#there were so many missed road trip opportunities :

[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 :))

[rootedinrevisions]

Rooster's Shadow

SUMMARY: When Carly Bradshaw, Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw’s younger sister, starts college near her brother’s TOP GUN base, she’s excited for a fresh start. A surprise night out with Rooster introduces her to Jake Seresin, the charming and cocky Navy pilot known as Hangman. As Jake’s attention shifts to Carly, their undeniable chemistry leads to a series of flirtatious encounters that challenge Carly’s feelings and Rooster’s protective instincts.

WORD COUNT: 5.4k(I may have got a little carried away with this one.)

Warnings: Alcohol Use.

PART 2: HERE

You stood at the curb outside your apartment building, shielding your eyes from the setting sun as you waited. It was one of those warm San Diego evenings, the kind where the heat clung to your skin but the ocean breeze kept things from becoming unbearable. You’d only been at San Diego State for a few weeks, but it already felt like home.

Soon enough, you heard the familiar rumble of an engine and looked up just in time to see your brother’s old Ford truck rounding the corner. The paint was faded, and the engine made a sound like it had seen better days, but to you, it was as much a part of your childhood as the Bradshaw name itself.

Bradley pulled up to the curb, one arm hanging casually out the window. His aviators reflected the buildings across the street as he leaned over to smile at you. “Hey, Carls.”

“Hey, Brad.” You grinned, throwing your backpack into the bed of the truck before hopping into the passenger seat. The familiar scent of sun-warmed leather and your brother’s cologne hit you instantly, bringing you back to summer road trips and late-night talks. He had on his usual–a white tank top under an open Hawaiian shirt, and jeans worn soft from too many flights and not enough time at home.

“Ready to be my wingman tonight?” he asked with a teasing glint in his eye as he shifted the truck into drive and pulled away from the curb.

You smirked, buckling your seatbelt. “As long as you don’t embarrass me, Lieutenant.”

He chuckled, rolling down the windows as the wind whipped through the cab. “No promises.”

The drive from your apartment just off campus to the bar was short, but it gave you and Bradley time to catch up. The conversation was light but familiar–family updates, your classes, his work. You could tell he was happy to have you so close by, though he’d never say it outright. His protective streak had always run deep, and being stationed just fifteen minutes from your dorm gave him more opportunities to check-in.

“So, how are the classes?” he asked, glancing over as the truck rumbled down the highway. “Making any friends yet?”

You shrugged. “A few. It’s only been a few weeks, so…I’m still getting used to it. A lot different from the online classes I’ve done the past three years, though.”

He nodded, his hand tapping the steering wheel. “You let me know if anyone gives you a hard time. I’ll come scare ‘em off.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help smiling. “What are you gonna do, march onto campus in your uniform?”

“If I have to,” he joked before his tone softened a bit. “But seriously, Carls, I’m glad you’re here. I missed you.”

You glanced at him, warmth spreading through your chest. “Missed you too, Brad.”

A comfortable silence fell between you two as the truck neared the bar. The lights of the base flickered in the distance, and you knew that while tonight was just for fun, something bigger was looming for your brother.

By the time you and Rooster walked into the bar, the place was starting to fill up. The music was loud, and the chatter of off-duty officers filled the air. You followed your brother through the crowd, the scent of beer and cheap cologne mixing with the ocean breeze still lingering in the air from outside.

Bradley’s eyes scanned the room, and you noticed the way his expression softened when he spotted a few familiar faces near the back. Before you could ask who they were, a voice called out, sharp and playful.

“Bradshaw!”

Your brother turned toward the sound, a smile already forming on his lips. A woman in a tan uniform, her hair pulled back into a tight bun, was leaning over a pool table, cue stick in hand. Her gaze flicked from your brother to you, eyebrows raised in surprise.

“This is how I find out you’re stateside?” she asked, her voice teasing but with an edge.

Bradley gave a sheepish grin, pulling off his aviators. “Yeah, I just thought I’d surprise you.”

Phoenix let out a small chuckle before bending over to take her shot. As she lined it up and brought her elbow back the end of the cue stick rammed into your brother’s lower abdomen, making him grunt and hunch over.

She glanced at him with a smirk, “I guess I surprised you back.”

Bradley straightened, rubbing his stomach as he chuckled. “It’s good to see you too.”

Phoenix gave him a grin and turned to you. “Who’s this?”

Your brother placed a hand on your shoulder. “Phoenix, this is my sister, Carly.”

Her handshake was firm, and the look she gave you was one of genuine curiosity. “Nice to meet you, Carly. You ever been to a place like this before?”

You shook your head with a smile. “Not exactly.”

Just then, another airman strode into view, catching your eye immediately. He wore the same tan uniform as many of the other in the bar, but the way he carried himself was different–more confident, almost too sure of himself. His dirty blonde hair was slicked back, and his hazel-green eyes were sharp, and calculating. But what really caught your attention was the smirk playing on his lips, like he was always on the verge of saying something cocky.

“Bradshaw, as I live and breathe,” he said, his voice dripping with that trademark arrogance.

Your brother’s expression tightened as he muttered, “Hangman. You look…good.” Hangman’s smirk widened.

The tension between them was almost tangible as Hangman sauntered up to the pool table, taking a cue stick from Bob, another airman you’d just met. Hangman leaned over to take his shot, and his gaze flicked toward your brother.

“Well, I am good, Rooster,” he said, his eyes gleaming as he sank a ball into the corner pocket with an impressive shot. He stood up, flashing that smile at you now. “In fact, I’m very good. Too good to be true.”

You rolled your eyes, resisting the butterflies that fluttered in your stomach. Sure, he was attractive–annoyingly so–but his cockiness was more than enough to keep you grounded.

Just as you were about to fire back a remark, another airman interrupted, asking something about the special detachment they had all been called in for. Hangman shrugged, eyes still on your brother. “A mission’s a mission. What I want to know is who’s gonna be team leader.”

Bradley scoffed. “Hangman, the only place you’ll lead anyone is an early grave.”

The crowd around the pool table erupted in playful jeers, but Hangman didn’t flinch. He just strolled over to your brother, a confident swagger in his step. “Rooster, aren’t you going to introduce me to your friend? Where are your manners?”

Your brother’s eyes narrowed, as he stepped slightly in front of you. “Hangman, this is my sister, Carly.”

Hangman’s smirk turned downright devilish as he extended his hand to you. “Carly,” he repeated, his voice softer now, more personal. He lifted your hand to his lips, pressing a quick kiss to the back of it. “A pleasure.”

You rolled your eyes again, but the warmth of his touch lingered longer than you wanted to admit.

“I love this song,” Hangman said, grinning as the jukebox blared louder. He turned away, strutting back toward the pool table like he owned the place.

Phoenix sidled up to you and Bradley, watching Hangman with a smirk of her own. “Well, he hasn’t changed.”

Bradley let out a long breath. “Nope. Sure hasn’t.”

As the pool game wrapped up and your brother wandered off to the piano, you noticed Hangman making his way back toward you. His grin was all charm and trouble as he approached, leaning casually on the edge of the table, his eyes scanning your face.

“So, Carly,” he drawled, his voice smooth and confident. “What’s a girl like you drinking tonight? Let me guess, something sweet? Or maybe you’ve got a stronger taste?”

You rolled your eyes, already anticipating where this was going. “I can handle my drinks just fine, thanks.”

“Now that I don’t doubt,” he said with a wink, standing up straight and gesturing toward the bar. “How about I get you something? On me.”

Before you could even consider your response, Bradley appeared, sliding smoothly between the two of you. His broad frame blocked Hangman’s view as he handed you a cold bottle of beer, his expression neutral but his intent clear.

“She’s already taken care of,” Bradley said, his tone casual but firm.

Hangman’s smirk didn’t falter. If anything, it grew wider, like he relished the challenge. He raised his hands in mock surrender. “Well, I see big brother’s got it all under control,” he teased, glancing between you and Rooster. “But if you change your mind, Carly, you know where to find me.”

Your brother didn’t bother with a reply, but you couldn’t help but notice the way Hangman’s gaze lingered on you just a little longer before he turned and strolled back toward the pool table, a mischievous glint still in his eyes.

Rooster took a swig of his beer, his eyes scanning the crowd for a moment before he turned to you. “You alright?”

You nodded, trying to suppress a smile. “You know, I can handle him, right?”

Bradley huffed softly, his lips quirking into a half-smile. “Oh, I know. But he’s Hangman. He’s a whole different level of annoying.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at that, taking a sip of your beer and glancing back at Hangman, who was already chatting up someone else, though his gaze flicked in your direction now and then. Something told you this wasn’t the last time he’d try.

The night had settled into a comfortable rhythm. You were sipping a drink and chatting with Phoenix while Rooster hovered nearby, keeping a watchful eye on you. Despite his relaxed exterior, you could tell he was in full “protective brother” mode. Every time a guy so much as glanced your way, he subtly moved closer.

You were about to tease him when you felt a presence behind you. Turning around, you found Hangman standing there, that familiar cocky grin plastered across his face.

“Enjoying yourself, Carly?” he asked, leaning casually against the bar, his hazel eyes gleaming with mischief.

“More than you’d think,” you replied, keeping your tone light but guarded. Something about Hangman’s smug confidence set you on edge, though you couldn’t deny the way your heart skipped when he was around.

 He twirled the pool cue in his hand before setting it aside. “How about you let me show you a good time on the dance floor?”

Before you could answer, your brother’s voice cut in from behind you. “She’s fine where she is, Hangman.”

Bradley stepped up next to you, folding his arms across his chest as he fixed Hangman with a pointed stare. The tension between them was palpable–old rivalries and new challenges seemed to swirl in the air, waiting for the right moment to strike.

Hangman’s grin only widened. “Easy there, Bradshaw. Just offering to be a gentleman.”

He straightened up and without missing a beat, grabbed a couple of the darts off the wall. “Tell you what, Rooster. Let’s settle this like men. A friendly game of darts–nothing too serious.” His eyes slid over to you for a second, then back to your brother. “Winner gets a dance with Carly.”

The challenge hung in the air for a moment, the weight of it thick between them. Bradley’s jaw clenched, and you could feel the tension rolling off him.

“I’m not letting you use my sister as a prize in your stupid games, Hangman,” Bradley shot back.

Hangman raised his hands in mock surrender. “Hey, it’s just for fun. Think of it as a little competition between friends.” His smirk never wavered. “Unless, of course, you’re afraid of losing.”

That did it.

Bradley’s eyes narrowed, and before you knew it, he was reaching for the darts in Hangman’s hand. “Fine. But when I win, you’re gonna drop this whole act and leave her alone.”

Hangman laughed, his voice low and smug. “You’re on, Bradshaw.”

The two of them moved to the dartboard, drawing the attention of everyone nearby. The crowd formed around them, cheers and laughter erupting as the stakes were set. You could feel the pit of anxiety in your stomach, torn between not wanting to be a part of this thing and being slightly curious about how it would all play out.

The game was fast-paced, with both men throwing with precision and confidence. Hangman’s throws were smooth and casual–he made it look effortless. Bradley, on the other hand, was more calculated, taking his time with each throw. The score stayed close, and by the time they reached the final round, it was almost neck and neck.

You could see the concentration on Bradley’s face as he took his last shot, hitting just off-center. Hangman smirked, stepping up for his final throw. With a flick of his wrist, the dart flew through the air, hitting dead center, giving him the two-point win.

The room erupted in cheers as Hangman turned to face Bradley, his grin smug and victorious. “Guess that means I get the dance.”

Bradley’s jaw clenched, and you could see the muscles in his neck tighten. He gave you a look–one that told you exactly how he felt about this. But you also knew there was no backing out now.

Hangman stepped over to you, offering his hand with an exaggerated bow. “Shall we, Carly?”

You hesitated for a split second before placing your hand in his. The crowd parted as he led you to the small dance floor near the jukebox, the music shifting to a slow, steady rhythm.

Hangman wasted no time, pulling you close as his hand rested lightly on your waist, his other hand intertwining with yours. His touch was firm and confident, and the way he moved made it clear he knew exactly how to command a dance floor.

“I’ve been waiting for this,” he murmured, his breath warm against your ear as he twirled you out and then back in, using the movement to subtly draw you closer. His body was solid against yours, and though you could feel Rooster’s eyes burning into your back from across the room, a small part of you couldn’t deny the strange excitement building inside you.

“You’re enjoying this way too much,” you said, trying to sound casual, but your voice came out quieter than you intended.

He chuckled, low and deep. “I can’t help it. There’s something about you, Carly Bradshaw. You know how to make a guy work for it.”

Before you could respond, he twirled you again, the spin making your heart race. This time when he pulled you back, his hand stayed on your waist, fingers pressing just a little harder. “You know,” he whispered, his lips brushing the shell of your ear, “your brother’s not gonna be able to keep me away from you forever.”

Your breath hitched, and you felt a mix of heat and frustration rise in your chest. You wanted to say something snarky, something that would put him back in his place, but the way his voice dropped to that smooth, confident tone made your thoughts scatter.

Hangman leaned in closer, his lips just inches from your neck. “Tell me, Carly, are you having fun yet?”

Before you could answer, your brother’s voice cut through the haze of the moment.

“That’s enough.”

Bradley stepped forward, his expression hard as he glared at Hangman. He reached for your hand, pulling you back toward the group.

Hangman released you, but not before giving you one last smirk. “Thanks for the dance, sweetheart.”

Rooster led you back to the bar, his hand still wrapped protectively around your wrist. He didn’t say anything, but you could feel the tension rolling off him in waves. Your head was spinning, caught between your brother’s overprotectiveness and the undeniable pull you’d felt toward Hangman during that dance.

You glanced back at the dance floor where Hangman stood, hands on his hips, that same infuriatingly cocky grin still playing on his lips. For the first time tonight, you found yourself wondering if there might be more to him than just the arrogance.

The bar had started to quiet down. The crowd thinned as people drifted toward the exits, some stumbling out in groups, others pairing off into couples. Your brother, now a little less tense after the confrontation with Hangman–or maybe just because of the beer and the brunette he was laughing with–had finally loosened his protective grip on you. For the first time tonight, you felt like you could breathe.

Needing some space, you slipped away from the crowd and stepped outside onto the bar’s patio. The night air was crisp, a welcome contrast to the warmth and noise inside. You inhaled deeply, letting the cool breeze calm your nerves. It felt good to be alone for a moment, without anyone watching over your shoulder.

You leaned against the railing, looking out at the lights in the distance, your mind wandering. You hadn’t expected the night to take so many twists, especially not with Hangman–and that dance. A small part of you was still processing what had just happened.

The creak of the door behind you caught your attention, and you turned to see Hangman stepping out onto the patio. His usual swagger seemed dialed back, the cocky grin replaced by something more subdued.

“Didn’t mean to interrupt,” he said, his voice quieter than before as he walked over and stood beside you. “Just needed some fresh air.”

You raised an eyebrow, half-expecting him to launch into another flirty remark, but he didn’t. Instead, he leaned against the railing next to you, his eyes scanning the view ahead, not pushing for your attention like he usually did. 

“You’re not interrupting,” you replied, surprised at how different he seemed out here, away from the bar and your brother’s watchful eye.

There was a beat of silence before he spoke again. “You’re not what I expected.”

You glanced at him, curiosity piqued. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

He smiled, but it wasn’t the usual cocky smirk. This time, it was softer, almost thoughtful. “I figured Rooster’s little sister would be a lot like him–, cocky, chip on your shoulder. But you…you’re different. Quieter. More thoughtful.”

You didn’t know how to respond to that, so you stayed quiet, letting him continue.

“I guess I’m just intrigued,” he said, his eyes now on you, serious for once. “You’re not like the girls I’m used to.”

You scoffed lightly, shaking your head. “I’m sure you say that to every girl you meet.”

He chuckled softly but shook his head. “Not this time.”

There was something in the way he said it that made you pause. You turned to face him fully, searching his expression for any hint of the arrogance you were used to. But it wasn’t there. Instead, he looked almost…genuine.

“Jake,” he said after a moment, holding out his hand. “My name’s Jake Seresin.”

You hesitated for just a second before placing your hand in his. “Carly.”

“I know,” he replied, his grin returning, but it was more playful than smug this time. “But I figured it was time we met properly.”

For a moment, you forgot about the dance, the challenge, the tension from earlier. Out here, in the quiet of the night, Jake felt different–less of the cocky, overconfident pilot, and more like just a guy who was trying to figure you out.

“So, is this the real you?” you asked, crossing your arms as you studied him. “The guy behind the callsign?”

He shrugged, his gaze thoughtful. “Maybe. Or maybe it’s just easier to drop the act when your brother’s not around to kill me.”

You laughed despite yourself, the tension in your chest easing a little more. “Bradley’s not that bad.”

“Right,” Jake said, smirking again. “Tell that to the look he gave me earlier.”

The two of you fell into a comfortable silence, the distant hum of the bar fading into the background. It was strange–how different things felt out here compared to inside. No loud music, no crowd, no watchful brother. Just you and Jake, standing side by side, and for the first time tonight, you weren’t entirely sure what to think of him.

“Thanks for the dance, by the way,” Jake said after a while, his voice softer again. “Even if your brother was ready to drag me off the floor.”

You smirked. “You’re lucky he didn't.”

“Yeah,” he agreed, “but it was worth it.”

There it was again–that strange shift in him, the one that made you wonder if there was more to Jake Seresin than just the swagger and the teasing. You found yourself wanting to know more, to see if this version of him, the quieter one, was the real deal.

As the minutes wore on, the cool breeze continued to swirl around you both, and the noise from inside seemed to grow more distant. Jake’s presence beside you was no longer overwhelming, no longer something you had to guard against. For the first time since you’d met him, you started to let your guard down just a little, wondering what might happen next.

The night air had cooled you off enough to shake off some of the tension, but the moment you stepped back into the bar, you were greeted by the buzz of conversation, the clinking of glasses, and the steady beat of the music. It wasn’t as crowded as before, but there were still enough people milling around that it took you a second to spot your brother.

Bradley was leaning against the bar, and the brunette from earlier was practically draped over his arm, laughing at something he’d said. He caught sight of you before you could make your way over, a knowing smirk already creeping onto his face.

“You alright, Carly?” he asked, the teasing tone in his voice impossible to miss. He shot a glance at the brunette, who hadn’t even noticed you’d walked up. “Looks like you got some fresh air.”

You nodded, giving him a small smile. “Yeah, I’m good. You look like you’re about to call it a night, though.”

Bradley laughed, his eyes gleaming with amusement. “Depends on what you mean by ‘call it a night.’” He gave the brunette a playful nudge, which she returned with an exaggerated giggle. You resisted the urge to roll your eyes.

“So I’m guessing you’re okay catching an Uber back to your place?” he asked, clearly banking on your answer so he could make his next move.

You waved him off. “Go. I’m a big girl, Bradley. I’ll be fine.”

He raised an eyebrow, giving you a once-over that told you he wasn’t totally convinced. His eyes scanned the room, almost as if trying to figure out if Hangman was still around. But the brunette tugged on his arm again, and his attention wavered.

“You sure?” He hesitated, but you could tell his focus was already drifting.

“I’m sure,” you reassured him. “Go have fun.”

Bradley flashed you a grateful smile, and with a quick, brotherly squeeze on your shoulder, he turned back to his date. You watched him leave, the brunette still glued to his side, before turning back toward the bar.

And that’s when you saw him. Jake–no, Hangman–was leaning casually against one of the high-top tables, the cocky grin firmly back in place. Gone was the serious, thoughtful version of him from outside. Now, the cocky swagger was back, all confidence and charm as he zeroed in on you, his eyes glinting with the same challenge from before.

“Well, look who it is,” he drawled, sauntering over to you, the grin never leaving his face. “Didn’t think he’d ever leave.”

You raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms as you met his gaze. “Surprised you’re still here. Thought you’d be off chasing another challenge by now.”

He chuckled, stepping closer. “Oh, I’m not done with this one yet.”

You tilted your head, eyeing him with a mixture of amusement and skepticism. “You think you’ve got me figured out, don’t you?”

His smile widened, and he leaned in just enough for you to catch the hint of his cologne. “I know enough.”

There it was–the cocky, overconfident Hangman, back in full force. But this time, you weren’t about to make things easy for him. If he was going to make a pass, he’d have to work for it.

“Do you?” you asked, your voice teasing as you took a step back, letting him chase just a little. “Because I’m not as easy as you might think.”

He raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. “I never said you were easy. Just a challenge I’m more than willing to take on.”

You smirked, playing along. “You’re gonna have to do better than that, Lieutenant.”

“Oh, I plan to,” he said smoothly, his voice dropping just a bit, his eyes never leaving yours. “You just tell me where you want to go, and I’ll take you there.”

His confidence was palpable, but you weren’t about to let him get the upper hand so quickly. Not tonight.

“Where I want to go, huh?” you mused, your fingers brushing against the edge of the bar as you leaned casually against it. “And what makes you think I’m going anywhere with you?”

He stepped closer, closing the distance, his gaze flicking to your lips before meeting your eyes. “Because you want to,” he said, his voice low and sure.

And damn, he was right. You could feel the heat rising between you, the tension crackling in the air like electricity. There was no point in denying it–you did want to go home with him. But if he was going to play this game, you were going to make him earn it.

“Maybe I do,” you said, your voice softer, just enough to keep him guessing. “But I’m not just going to hand it to you, Hangman.”

His grin widened at the challenge, his eyes glinting with excitement. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

You could feel the pulse of the bar fading into the background as the two of you locked into this game. Jake’s presence was intoxicating, and the way he looked at you–like he knew exactly what he was doing–was enough to make your pulse quicken. But if he was going to get what he wanted, he was going to have to prove it.

He reached out, his fingers grazing yours in a way that made your breath catch. “So, what do you say? One more round of drinks? Or are we skipping straight to the good part?”

You smiled, tilting your head as you studied him. “I’ll take you up on that drink,” you said, your voice low and teasing. “But after that? You’ll just have to wait and see.”

His eyes darkened with intrigue, and for the first time, you felt like you had the upper hand. Jake may have been used to getting what he wanted, but tonight? Tonight, he was going to have to play by your rules.

The next song that filtered through the bar was slower, and sultry in its rhythm. You felt Jake’s hand on the small of your back before you could fully turn away, guiding you once more to the center of the room. But this time, the energy between you had shifted. Gone were the playful twirls from your last dance, replaced by something much more intimate.

He didn’t give you a chance to object–not that you were planning to. His chest pressed firmly against your back as his hands slid down your arms before coming to rest on your hips, directing your movement with the sway of the music. The air between you was thick with tension, his breath hot against your ear, close enough that you could feel the ghost of his lips hovering above your neck. 

You found yourself leaning into him, letting the warmth of his body seep through the thin fabric of your tank top. You could feel every muscle in his torso, taut and solid against you, as his fingers gripped your hips just tight enough to send a shiver down your spine.

“You’re trouble, aren’t you?” he whispered low into your ear, his voice sending a jolt of electricity down your spine.

Your lips curled into a teasing smile. “I think you’re the one looking for trouble.”

Jake chuckled softly, the sound vibrating through his chest and into your back. His hands tightened their grip for just a moment, grounding you in the moment, and making your pulse quicken. Your inhibitions, dulled by the alcohol and the charged atmosphere, slipped away as your hand slid up into his hair, fingers tangling in the soft, dirty blonde strands.

He let out a breath, his head tilting slightly into your touch, his body responding to your every move. The tension between you two was undeniable now, the room shrinking until all you could feel was him.

As the song played on, your confidence only grew. You pressed back against him, feeling the firmness of his body as he guided your movements, your hips rolling in sync with his. 

His lips brushed the shell of your ear, so close that you could almost feel the words he whispered. “Careful, Carly,” he murmured, the warning laced with just enough desire to make your skin flush. “I might not be able to hold back much longer.”

The intensity of his voice sent a surge of heat through you, but you weren’t about to let him off that easy. You glanced over your shoulder, catching the way his eyes darkened as they met yours. “Who said I want you to?”

The words hung in the air between you, daring him to take things a step further.

Jake’s eyes darkened further as your words hung in the air, an in a heartbeat, he’d made his decision. With a low growl of approval, he slid his hands from your hips and grabbed your hand, lacing his fingers through yours.

“I’m going to hold you to that,” he murmured, already tugging you toward the bar counter where Penny stood, casting the two of you a knowing look. Jake’s free hand reached for his wallet, pulling out a card to quickly close his tab. You noticed the way his thumb lightly brushed against your wrist, a subtle but constant reminder of the tension simmering between you.

Penny smirked as she handed him his receipt. “Take care of her, Hangman.”

Jake let out a breathless chuckle, his gaze flicking toward you as if to say, I plan on it. With one last look at Penny, he nodded. “Oh, I will.”

As soon as his tab was settled, Jake wasted no time guiding you out to the bar. Your arms slipped around his waist, your hands resting on the hard lines of his abdomen, feeling the heat of his body through his shirt. The cool night air was a welcome contrast to the heated atmosphere you’d just left, but it did nothing to calm the way your heart was racing. You found yourself nuzzling into the side of his neck, inhaling the faint scent of cologne, the mix of leather and woodsy undertones clinging to his skin. Without hesitation, you placed a soft kiss along his Adam’s apple.

Jake tensed beneath your touch, his breath hitching as you kissed along his throat, feeling the way his pulse quickened against your lips. He let out a deep, throaty laugh, the sound vibrating against your mouth.

“You’re gonna be the death of me, darlin,” he said in a husky voice, his arm wrapping around your waist, keeping you close as he led you toward his truck parked just outside.

But instead of stopping, you continued trailing kisses along his neck, your lips teasing the sensitive skin there. His hands tightened around you, his breath shallow as he opened the passenger door to his truck.

“Get in, Carly,” he said, his voice low and filled with promise.

[jazminrhode1]

What Went Wrong? Chris Sturniolo x Reader One Shot

Summary: Chris calls you on a dare to ask what went wrong.

Words: 763 words

“Hey, y/n” he said when you answered the phone. Chris was filming a video with his brothers and was dared to give you a call.

You hadn’t spoken to him since you broke up. No matter how much you wanted to call him, you never did.

“I got dared to call an ex and ask what went wrong…” he explained. A smile tugged at the corner of your lips. You could hear in his voice that he was a little uncomfortable.

“What went wrong?” you asked. “Basically, why did your relationship end,” Nick clarified.

You hadn’t thought about it in a while. No matter how amicable the split was, you loved him and you never really quite came to terms with it being over between you two.

“You don’t have to…” Chris said. You felt the sincerity in his voice.

“No, it’s ok,” you replied, thinking about what to say.

“I don’t think anything necessarily went wrong,” you began, “all good things come to an end.”

Chris was nodding on the other end of the phone. He didn’t realize how much he missed you until this very moment. Hearing your voice was bringing back so many memories for him and he felt a little overwhelmed.

“I think that even though it ended, that relationship wasn’t a failure. Not for me anyway,” you said.

“No,” Chris assured, “not for me either.”

“We were young, you know? And I still look back and consider myself so lucky to have spent all of my high school years with you,” you explained.

A smile tugged at the corner of Chris’ lips as he covered his eyes with his hat. He had loved you since pre-k and when you split, no matter how mutual the decision was, he still lost his best friend.

“All of my best memories from high school have you in them. And, they’re not ruined because we broke up… They’re 10 times better because they were with you,” you said, "I have no regrets about dating you."

You hadn’t told him that before. There were a lot of things that you regretted not saying and you were glad to have the opportunity to say them now.

You waited to hear if he was going to respond but, you pictured him on the other side of the phone hiding his face and trying to keep his shit together. He might have acted tough but, he wasn’t good at this kind of thing.

“I still remember that road trip we took to Portland with your family,” you started. “Oh my god, I forgot about that. Do you remember when Matt ran over the squirrel and cried for like, 2 hours?” Chris asked. "It was like 5 minutes," Matt argued.

You could hear Nick and Matt laughing in the background. Their voices were getting more and more distant. You figured that Chris was done with the video and was heading to his room.

The thought that their life in LA was so foreign to you made you kind of sad. Even when you broke up, you promised that you’d always be friends or, at least, you’d always stay in touch. You knew that you could have made more of an effort, and in the beginning, you both did, but it was hard to go back to being friends after a relationship like that.

You stayed on the phone for hours, reminiscing about young love. You talked about dancing in parking lots and making out in breakrooms at your high school jobs. You remembered picnics in your Dad’s pickup truck and Valentine's Day dates in minivans. You laughed about corny pickup lines and awful date ideas. But, mostly, you remembered how much you loved each other and laughed at yourselves for thinking that young love lasted forever.

“Hey… thanks for calling,” you said. It was 2 a.m. and you had to go. You wanted to stay and talk to him all night like you used to do when you were 16. You wanted to know that when you hung up, he’d be outside ready to pick you up for school. You wanted to go back in time and fall in love with him all over again. But, this good thing came to an end.

“I sometimes want to call you but, it never feels like the right time,” you said. “Call” he whispered, “whenever you want to. I’m here… I’m always going to be here,” Chris said.

Before you hung up, he paused just to say “I still love you, y/n”. “I still love you too”, you replied.

[sexhaver]

Boston driving tips:

if you're making an unprotected left at a stoplight and are the first one in line when the light turns green, your job is to gun it and make that left turn before any oncoming traffic has an opportunity to move. otherwise you will sit there throughout that entire fucking light, forcing everyone behind you who wants to go straight to merge to the right (which of course gums up both lanes), until it turns red again and you awkwardly finish up your turn while the entire intersection glares daggers at you. if you pull this shit on a one-lane road, then congratulations, you made it so you were the only one to make it through on that light cycle, and the drivers behind you are not only allowed but actively encouraged to pit manuever you off the road if they can catch up.

for optimal performance, you should be looking at the signal for the cross street + the walk signal. once you see the cross signal turn red, hold down your brake with your left foot to free up your right foot to hover over the gas pedal. that way, when your light turns green, you can simultaneously lift your left foot while dropping your right to instantly start moving. this maneuver has many names depending on where you learn it. i learned it as the "Worcester left" but ive also heard it referred to as a "Lexington left".

if you're in the left lane and one person passes you on your right, there's a 50/50 shot on which one of you is the asshole (you for driving too slow in the passing lane, or the passer for being a speed demon)

if two people pass you on your right, you are the asshole and need to merge right at the soonest opportunity to avoid further embarrassment

if THREE (or, god forbid, more) people pass you on your right, pull over to the nearest breakdown lane at your earliest convenience and commit seppuku with a tire iron

become intimately familiar with the exact size of your car and how close you can get to stuff without hitting it. this proprioception is helpful when parallel parking but is mostly for those times when someone is trying to turn left from a single-lane road, and they pull off as far to the left as they can without going into oncoming traffic to let people around them, and then the person behind them spends a few seconds trying to fit their 6-foot-wide car through a 9-foot-wide gap before concluding that this maneuver is sadly impossible. don't be that fucking guy

learn how to parallel park. yes i know it's stereotypically scary but there is a method you can learn and it will save your ass so many times. just line up your car's side mirror with the side mirror of the car in front of the spot you want, cut the wheel all the way towards the curb, move for a bit, stop, cut the wheel all the way the other way, resume, wham bam thank you ma'am

you can ignore like 80% of all "no parking" signs because they all say NO PARKING in huge bold letters and then under that in 8pt font they add "every second Tuesday of every month during lobster season on odd sides of the street only from 7-9pm". or it's "reserved" parking for an event that already happened or hasn't happened yet (they put the effective dates right there on the sign)

turning right on red is technically legal at a state level in MA, but most intersections in Boston will have a cheeky little "no turn on red" sign hidden somewhere as a fun Eye-Spy-type game for kids to play on road trips. if you don't see one of these signs, it's a coinflip whether you just missed it or if you can actually turn right

are you moving into Boston for college? you should definitely rent a moving van for your stuff and then follow your GPS directions that take you down Storrow Drive. nothing bad has ever happened to moving vans on Storrow Drive

[painted-flag]

OF FLOWERS AND DEATH - aemond targaryen

Chapter 13: Of Taverns and Bathhouses

☾⋆⁺₊✧ dark elf!Aemond Targaryen x f!human!reader series. ✧₊⁺⋆☾ series masterlist. ☾⋆⁺₊✧ word count: 4.1k ✧₊⁺⋆☾ series warnings: 18+ depictions of violence/gore, eventual smut, warfare, sickness/disease, some moments of misogyny, and mentions of alcohol consumption. ☾⋆⁺₊✧ An opportunity presents itself to run from the sting of recent heartbreak.

Travelling throughout the elder forest was far more exciting than you thought it would be. The first day you left the castle, it was relatively boring, but camp that night was rather enjoyable. It took an hour to set up camp and you got your own tent for privacy. Aemond had his own and the ten guards escorting you all shared one. That night, while Aemond ate in his tent, you joined the guards for dinner around the bonfire.

When they were off duty, the guards were very lively and unserious. They welcomed you with open arms and no prejudice due to your human form. This was, largely, like your experiences with other elves. Only a few ever admonished you for your humanity - primarily Cole. In your time in the elf kingdom, you have learned that the hate between your kind was mostly charged by your people; something that made you feel guilty inside.

That night passed swiftly and your group packed up with ease and continued on their way. You had spent the day riding. Despite not being able to tell what was day or not because of the elder trees, you could tell that it was nearing time to settle in for the night to rest. You were getting tired and you could tell the guards were as well.

Aemond was with another guard and they trailed ahead of the group. The road by then had gotten more narrow and less grand and you assumed you had left the capital and had entered the rest of the elven kingdom territory.

Your horse showed visible signs of growing exhaustion and you sighed with relief upon seeing a stone building in the distance. The windows flickered with candlelight and it was not as rowdy as other inns and taverns you had experienced in the past. You had stayed in many during your travel from the human kingdom’s capital to the village you had lived in. However, this one looked more clean and well-kept.

The group all reconvened at the front of the building. Aemond got off his horse and walked in with one of the guards while the others began directing the horses to the open stables off to the side of the building. The stone bricks looked old and weathered while vines and other plants crawled up the sides. It looked as though nature was slowly reclaiming this spot.

The guard that went in with Aemond emerged and walked to you, and you recalled his name being Elias. Just as you were going to dismount, he reached out and helped you down before speaking, “We have secured lodgings for the night. This place has natural hot springs, would you like to bathe while we unpack your things?”

“That sounds wonderful,” You knew this trip would be a week and you were already on the second day. You missed the more hygienic amenities back at the palace and knew the rest of this trip would be spent with brief moments of cleaning in passing streams. This was an opportunity you did not wish to miss.

You had retrieved the supplies you needed to clean yourself along with a new change of clothes, which was a more modest set of nightclothes. There were no other travellers, so your group had the inn to themselves. The hot spring was located right next to the main building. The waters flowed into a large poolroom. At the centre of the pool was a divider that spanned the whole room except for an area on the side which acted as a walkway, though there was a curtain that could be closed for complete privacy.

You had walked into the area and surveyed the room. You walked across and opened the curtain for the other room. There was a stone bench where you placed your things. As you moved to undress, another figure came into the bathhouse. Aemond had come in and froze when he saw you.

“The guards are setting up dinner in the main room. It should be ready soon,” He seemed almost awkward in his mannerisms, but it was likely due to wariness from travelling.

“Food sounds good,” You internally cringed at that response. It was like you had just learned to speak. The nerves you had felt around Aemond when you first met him had been out of fear, but now it morphed into a different origin that you could not place.

“I’m going to uh…” You pointed to the curtain to indicate you were going to bathe.

Aemond nodded, “Yes, that is uh, what I am here to do as well.”

You were unable to come up with more words and honestly believed if you said anything else it would make the situation more unbearable. You reached out and shut the curtain for privacy. However, you stood there, unable to undress. You could hear Aemond move on the other side of the thick fabric.

Heat rushed across your face as you realized he was undressing. Of course he would, as he told you he was there to bathe as well. Yet, the sound of it caused you to think of rather impure thoughts.

You could drown yourself in this large poolroom for even thinking of such a thing.

As you began to undress, all you could think about was the king next to you. It was not surprising, to be so bashful. Since Aemond had taken you to your home to visit and pack, you had noticed there had been unusual stirrings in your stomach when near him.

You put your foot in the water on the first step in and noticed how warm the water was. A thin mist rose from it and evaporated in the air. You moved slowly, step by step and adjusted to the water. Eventually, you had become fully immersed and soaked in heat.

The sound of moving water from the other room caught you from your trance. You could hear him moving in the water. There was a thin stone wall separating you two, but it felt as though there was nothing there at all. Time passed as you scrubbed yourself near raw, making sure that this wash would last as the next few ones are likely to be poor and hasty. There were a few oils you packed with you that came of use.

While cleaning yourself, you pretended not to care about what Aemond was doing, but you would be a liar. You could hear the water moving and after a while, Aemond got out. Your ears picked up on him getting into clothes and heard his steps as he left the bathhouse. A breath escaped your lips when he was gone and you felt your shoulders relax. You did not know why you were so tense but glad that it had left.

Your stomach rumbled with hunger and you decided it was best to get out and see what the guards prepared for dinner.

With a clean body and a belly full of food, you walked up the stairs of the inn to reach your room. The hall was dark, with few torches to light it up. You had drunk a fair amount of elf ale and discovered that it was a lot stronger than their wine. While not drunk, there was enough alcohol in your system to create a divide between your mind and mouth. Inside you were conscious, but your words would slip easily.

After exchanging many stories with the elf guards, you realized it would be better for you to go to bed and get as much sleep as you could. The night clothes you had changed into were more modest compared to elf clothing but still leaned on revealing in human terms. You had learned quickly that there was not a lot of shame among the elves when it came to their bodies. It was not something you had judged them for but found rather refreshing. If you were gifted with such natural beauty, you would not be ashamed to show it.

You turned down the hall and nearly ran into what you thought was a wall. You almost lost your balance but a pair of arms reached out to steady your figure. Their hands were warm and large, carrying a sense of familiarity. When you looked up, you saw that the person was Aemond. He was not dressed up in the finery and complex set of clothing. He adorned his regular boots and pants but only wore a black undershirt with some untied buttons at the neck and chest. While his clothes were more casual, his sword was still strapped to his side. You wondered why he always kept it so close like some kind of charm for luck.

Knowing it was Aemond, his hold burned against your skin. His hands were firmly holding your waist and it reminded you of that time he had hoisted you down from his horse after following you into the woods on that reckless mission you took. That was the first time he had touched you, but it did not burn then as it did now.

Aemond released you quickly but did not back away. He gave a curt nod and moved to pass you. However, you had consumed one too many drinks that night and all your inhibition and restraint to act more complacent around him left your mind.

“Why did you take me on this trip?” You questioned. Aemond had stopped and turned around.

His face was composed as he answered, “Like I said, to clear your mind. We can't have an important healer not cared for during such a pivotal moment in understanding the taint.” His answer was very political, shrouded with diplomacy and unattachment. It was easy to see that he was not forthcoming with the real reason.

“So, I am only here to get better so my skills can be used?” Your buzzed brain was in no control of your words. His words confirmed a small fear – your value was tied only to your studies and not to who you were.

Aemond regarded you with what could have been perceived as reverence, but ultimately your concept of perception was skewed because of the ale. You knew it, and you could tell Aemond knew it as well. It was fairly obvious by the slight sway you had while standing and the drawl in your tone.

It was, with great surprise, that you could see the corners of his mouth lift ever so slightly. While not a smile or even a smirk, it was something to which you had never seen from him.

“You are worth more than your skills.” His words were whispered and you almost did not hear them. Were you meant to hear it or was it perhaps a moment of his own clarity?

There was no way you would remember this come the morrow, as the haze you had been in got stronger as more of the ale settled, “Then why are you so mean?” Your voice was light and carried a tone of hurt. Your arms were wrapped around your middle for comfort.

Aemond looked almost hurt by your words, but his face put on a front of sincerity, “Go to bed, little rūklon.” He turned away from you and down the corner. You were left standing in the dim hallway, more confused than you were at the start of the conversation.

Your feet shuffled across the hall and towards the door of your room. Your fingers gripped the cool handle but you paused. You looked back at the way Aemond went and almost begged for him to come back. There were more questions you wanted to ask, but it was hard to form them into words. You wanted to know why he had come on this trip, why he had done it in the first place and most of all why his presence managed to cause heat to claw from your stomach and across your body.

You shook your head and opened the door to get into the room. It was of substantial size, nothing too grand for an inn that was likely for weary travellers to board for the night. There was enough room for a single bed, desk, and wardrobe. There was a tiny fireplace, likely in each room, with a chair in front of it. When you sat down on the bed, you let out a loud sigh.

With each passing day, Aemond continued to subvert expectations and positively confound you.

It was the third day of travel, the same day your group was expected to reach Lake Rosemagne. You had left the inn early that morning and continued to trek on. Your legs were not used to riding for so long and they ached greatly. You chose to disregard the pain and distract yourself from looking at the scenery. However, the dark forest with elder trees had grown on you and your once-revered awe had dimmed slightly.

Thankfully, one of the elf guards, Elias, caught both your growing discomfort from riding and boredom and took it upon himself to cheer you up with stories of fun events from his lifetime. Occasionally some other guard would chime in with information, either to build off of it or counteract Elas' quips.

It easily distracted you from the monotony of travel and you even began sharing your own stories, albeit with less adventure than theirs. Elias questioned you on human customs, though your answers felt bland. Truthfully, your once appreciation for your kind had been skewed slightly. The haze of instilled-from-childhood superiority had vanished and you were left questioning if there even was one side better than the other.

It was during one story that you found yourself laughing uncontrollably. Elias continued to tell his story while you felt a stitch-like feeling on your sides. You leaned forward in the saddle and gripped the reins in an attempt to compose yourself. So caught up in laughter, it took you a moment to calm down and when you did, you looked forward to the front of the company.

Aemond had turned to watch you while he and another guard had gotten further away and stopped for the rest to catch up. His gaze was locked on your form and his mouth pursed as it panned to Elias and the other guards beside you. Once your group had caught up, Aemond turned forward and went back to guide the procession.

For some odd reason, his near condescending gaze rendered you silent for the next few hours. The company moved on and soon you noticed the area become brighter. The trees had begun to get smaller and thus the canopy opened ever so slowly. The light of firefly jars and lanterns strung on the horses changed to streaks of sun peeking through tree branches. You could feel the air gradually get hotter as you entered the sun-exposed environment.

You could see the road continuing, but the end of the tree line also came into view. Your horses passed into an open field. Ahead, were sprawling rocky mountains, jagged and snow-capped. At the bottom of these mountains, lay a lake fed by the melting ice caps and glaciers high above the ground nestled between peaks of the rocks.

The water shimmered and moved like melting glass, rolling over and over. A swift breeze flew by, blowing the smell of flowers that grew in the field. It was cool and caressed your skin with the same cold that you would find back in the deep elder-tree forest.

The group dismounted and began to set up camp. Despite your repeated insistence to help, the guards brushed you off. They insisted that you take a look around and begin your observations and work as you would only stay this night and the next before having to go back. It gave you one day to conduct whatever you needed to do, but truthfully you had no idea.

It was not your insistence that brought you here, but Aemond’s. It was to freshen your mind from Lyra’s passing so that you could continue to work on a cure, which seemed ever so near but also far away.

You began to make a careful walk of the field, jotting down various observations of the plants around you. The general environment was so calming and you relished the feeling of the sun kissing your skin. It warmed you to the bone.

You approached the water and put your notebook back into the side bag that was strung on your shoulder. For just a moment, you took in the expanse of the lake. Its emerald hue reminded you of Lyra’s eyes, so deep and pure, but not everlasting.

This was the last place your father was if his journal was correct. The last pieces of scenery he saw, the last breeze he felt. You wondered if he had thought of you when he likely died. For as long as he was gone, you adamantly defended the notion that he was alive. After coming so close to death, and truly allowing yourself to heal, you concluded that life was not that fortunate.

Before you had come to the kingdom, there were still underlying scars that denied you from moving on and growing. There was nothing to build off of for a new life in the capital, so you chose to live in a far-off village instead. It was in that isolation that the wound festered and you drowned yourself in work.

Now, after entering the elf kingdom and experiencing a world not of your own, you could finally see through the fog in your brain. Your father was likely dead and it crushed your soul.

It was as you stood, no more than a hundred metres from the elves making camp, that the sound of crunching grass could be heard behind you. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Aemond move to stand beside you with his arms crossed behind his back. He stood on your left, so you were able to see his one eye.

He looked as though he wished to speak, but the thought of your father had you asking a hard question, “What happens to humans who are found on your territory?”

You gave no indication of willingness to turn to him. You kept your gaze focused on the bright shimmers of the water. It was an attempt to hold back the tears that were brimming in your eyes. The question did not need to be asked. You knew the answer. While many of the stories surrounding Aemond had been fabricated or exaggerated, a lot of them were true.

The fate of humans who crossed into elven territory was short; a quick brutish death.

Aemond opened his mouth and spoke your name softy, but you could not deal with any deflection and interrupted, “Tell me,”

You could already feel him looking at you, a gaze that always erupted a heat within your stomach. He spoke with an almost defeated sigh, “I believe you already know.” He let you mull over his words and you conceded that it was true. You already knew, what good would it do to hear it in graphic detail? What could that accomplish for your already grief-stricken mind?

“This was the last place my father was, according to his journal.” Your voice trembled slightly.

“We keep a ledger of all trespassers which has been checked for your father’s name. Believe me, it would be noted.” Aemond tried to reassure you. His hand reached out as if to touch you, but pulled back, “There have been no humans in this area for well over a century.”

“What if he was stopped before he could get here?” Your brain had begun to spiral and list a myriad of possibilities. Either proving he was still alive or describing other possibilities of death. Your psyche was at war with itself.

Aemond remained adamant in his words, “He would have been noted down-”

“What if he wasn’t?” You had ignored all sense of propriety in this conversation. You had refused to address him as ‘your grace.’ Either an act of rebellion or a subtle way of telling him that you would never belong to the realm of elves and therefore felt no need to bow.

“Of course it would be noted.” Aemond turned to you, staring intently at the side of your face.

“Tell me, do you trust your guards?” You asked.

The question seemed to have given him a rude awakening. Aemond’s posture faulted and his arms fell down from being behind his back and rested at his sides. He was almost seething at the implication. You assumed it struck a chord. You had, without outright saying it, undermined his authority and capability as a king. Likely the first to do so by the way his body reacted.

Perhaps, men were not so different from male elves; stuck in their ways and sense of personal superiority. It was almost comedic.

“My guards are highly trained. They are reliable.” Aemond dismissed your concerns.

“Every single one of them?” You then turned to him to meet his fiery gaze with one equal to that. The two of you stood there, watching the other. The blue of his eye pulled you in. As much as you wanted to hate him, willed it, the urge to get lost in a sea of blue was what really stoked your anger.

In spite of it all, you wished to get lost in him.

You waited for some form of retaliation. Maybe this was when Aemond would lower whatever false persona he had put on during this trip. Get rid of the niceties and show you the depth of truth in his reputation for brutality.

It was with great shock that he did not, but rather he walked away from you and back towards the camp.

His feet trampled on the stalky grass. You watched him go, unsure of where the two of you stood. One minute, you could almost confuse the relationship for friends, but then something would happen – either you or his snapping attitude – and you two would go back to rivals. At the very least, some type of rivalry.

There was no logic to it, yet there was a synergy there that drew you in.

His shoulders swayed as he walked and you suddenly wished to join him. No destination in mind, no plans, just simply walk with him. There was insurmountable confusion. You battled with yourself over your feelings. You could not admit it, did not wish to, but there was no denying that you had grown a fondness for the king. He had a roughness to him that both frustrated and intrigued you more than ever.

You wanted to lash out, hit him, push him, or simply just yell at him. However, there was no reason to. He had given you none, which was the source of your anger. You wanted to hate him and wanted there to be a reason to. He had slaughtered your people in the Great War; burned towns and tortured them. However, the same could be said for your people those many centuries ago.

You wanted all of the stories to be true. You wanted him to be a monster so there could be a justified reason to hate him, but that was not possible. Even further, your own body had betrayed you and began to crave his presence.

The frustration in your mind made you stop watching Aemond walk away and turn back to the lake. You watched the gentle waves of water hit the bank, sputtering sounds caressing your ears.

Your hand reached down to your bag and felt around until finding what you wanted. From your bag rose the doll that Lyra had gifted you. Your fingers brushed over the fabric of the sewn dress. You turned the doll to face the view, hoping that this would give back on the promise you made to Lyra to take her on an adventure.

The winding lake, glowing with the light of the setting sun, was imposed in front of the sprawling mountains. The sun had begun to set behind you and the snow on top was illuminated with hues of orange and pink from the gossamer clouds that littered the sky. A breeze brushed over you, cool and refreshing. You breathed in slowly and held it for a moment then exhaled. Birds were chirping in the distance, dancing through the air in a playful waltz. Flowers grew in patches on the grass with some brushing your shoes.

You looked down at the doll in your hand with glossy eyes, “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”

And for the first time in days, you truly smiled. 

Chapter 14: The Saphire Preview

“You care.” Aemond seemed to have had an epiphany at that moment, his mouth slightly agape, “You care about my kind…” Anger flared in you at his comment. Had he not seen, the whole time you had been there, that caring was all you did? Your work with the cure, with the patients, connecting with other elves including his family. It was all because you did care, more than you ever have in your life.

“I care?” Your grip on the doll tightened as you finally looked at him. You met his soft gaze with hostility, “Do you still think so little of me after all this time? Have I not proven myself?”

☾⋆⁺₊✧ If you want to be added to the taglist, click here!

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[604to647]

Safest with You (The Epilogue)

3.2K / Modern AU Retired Mob Enforcer!Din Djarin x fem!reader

Summary: You and Din welcome a new member to your family.

Warnings: All fluff - just the way we started this series! Established relationship, nicknames as usual (Pretty bird, baby).

A/N: A cute little glimpse into the lives of our happy couple around two years after the series finale. 112 Carlota Galgos is a real Galgo rescue in Spain! I won't go into the circumstances that make the rescue work they do so important, but many of you know that I have a greyhound, and the plight of the Galgo is well known in the sighthound community. These dogs deserve the world!! If you have an opportunity to check out organizations that aid Spanish Galgos or even help - I promise these gentle giants deserve it. Lisette is a real galgo I knew! She passed last year and this epilogue is dedicated to her (cute pics included at the end!)

I’m posting this on the one year anniversary of Chapter 1!! I can’t believe it’s been a whole year of writing these bbs 🥹 Thank you thank you everyone who has supported and followed along with this series - you are all as dear to me as Pretty Bird's garlic knots are to Mayfeld 🥹🥰 (I still plan on publishing that recipe!)

Dividers by @saradika-graphics as always! 🥰 / Series Masterlist

Just before your finger is about to press down the call button on the outside of the closed metal gate, you retract your hand and look questioningly at Din.

“How many am I allowed to get again?”

Din stares at you for a second to ascertain if you’re kidding and when he sees you’re not, a little panic sets in on his face, “One, pretty bird.  Just one.”

“But…”

“We only made arrangements with the airline for one, baby.”

You pout a little, but know Din’s right, “Okay. Fine. One.”

Somewhat dejectedly you press the button, though the chorus of barks and yelps from the other side of the gate resulting from the chime of the bell perk you up immediately, and by the time the gate is buzzed open with a loud brrrrzzzt, you’re giddy with excitement again.

This is the last planned destination of the European trip you and Din have been on for the last three weeks, both of you looking forward to flying home in just a few days.

The vacation has been an absolute dream.  You and Din have eaten your way through Amsterdam (Stroopwafels! Bitterballen!), then Paris (Steak frites! Macarons! Croissants!  One, sometimes two baguettes a day!), followed by Rome (Gelato! Pasta until you exploded!), and then finally Barcelona (Paella! Bombas!) before ending up where you are now: Andalucia, Spain, outside the gates of the 112 Carlota Galgos dog rescue.

The happy and excited woofs from the still unseen pups remind you so much of Alfredo.  Gosh, you miss your best guy so much – although, if the daily photos and videos you’ve been receiving are to be believed, he might be hard pressed to leave Paz’s when you get back.  By now a minor celebrity in Din and Paz’s neighbourhood, you’re happy to see that Al’s been making the rounds at the local shops (and accepting generous samples everywhere he goes), enjoying fun road trips to nearby hiking trails, and most importantly, helping Paz cement his image as an attractive, eligible bachelor about town.  You’re sure if you were to peek at Paz’s dating app profile, you’d see it updated with copious pictures of him fawning over your dog. 

Originally, you had been hesitant to have Paz take Al to his place for three whole weeks, wondering if it was better if instead, Paz could come and dog-sit at your and Din’s place – but Al does seem to be adjusting to being away from home just fine.  Though Alfredo is generally super easy going and adaptable, you nevertheless recognized that it had been quite a year of transition and multiple upheavals for your pup and worried about how he might cope with yet another change in scenery. 

Nearly a year ago, you and Din moved in together and Al had been uprooted from the only home he’s ever known.  Though it wasn’t without some understandable disinclination that you left your beautiful and much-loved apartment, both of you agreed it made perfect sense for you to move into Din’s place above Mando’s.  Of course you loved your old place – you had poured so much of your heart and soul into making it your refuge and the perfect home for you and Al, but you couldn’t find it within yourself to regret leaving – Din is your home now, as you are his.   The only safe haven you need is the one with him, and though you’re sure he would have moved without hesitation if you had asked, the idea of Din leaving a residence right above his place of work, in a building he already owned, was too silly to even entertain.

To try and make the adjustment as smooth as possible for his pretty bird, Din had given you free reign to redecorate, bring in your furniture, and make whatever changes you wanted in order to make his, now your, apartment feel more like home.  The third floor of Mando’s would always hold his most cherished memories of his childhood and father – he didn’t need it to look a certain way or have it maintained as some kind of physical shrine in order for that to be true; Din was ready to make a home and new memories with you.  It was sweet and you appreciated the gesture prodigiously, but aside from adding your own bookshelves and swapping out a couch, the only thing you had asked for was a bigger kitchen.  Din had readily agreed and even suggested he build you an expanded closet and turn the second bedroom into a home office-dog den for you and Al.  Din’s enthusiasm and eagerness for the project was enough to have you agreeing to his considerate suggestions.

What had followed was seven months of renovation chaos, living out of and tripping over boxes as a slew of tradespeople and workmen paraded in and out of what was supposed to be your new sanctuary. 

You love Din with all your heart, and one of the things you love most and find endlessly attractive is just how good he is at the things he does: taking care of you and Al, supporting the community, running Mando’s – to say nothing of the skill and prowess he displays in his work in and out of the ring; just the sight of Din running drills with his boxers or deftly commanding the Mandos gets you weak in the knees. 

But elaborate home improvements and remodelling?  Unfortunately, not part of Din’s impressive skill set.  Nor any of the Mandos for that matter.  For two weeks, every Mando on payroll seemed to be over at your place “helping” with measurements and the demolition of the kitchen and the wall between the two bedrooms.  Only after a burst pipe and the subsequent three weeks of living with drying fans running 24/7, did Din concede it was time to call in professionals.  Then came a parade of contractors and their respective plumbers, cabinet guys, drywall, tile and marble contacts, electricians, etc. – who all seemed to owe some kind of “favour” to Boba.  The good thing about that was they were committed to doing a good job; the bad thing was that no one was particularly dedicated to doing a fast job.  For the next five months, you, Din and Al lived in a construction zone of various partially started and finished projects with different strangers coming in and out of your place at all hours of the day – it had stressed Al out endlessly.

A little over half a year after moving in with Din, you hit a breaking point and, with Din’s encouragement, packed a suitcase and took Al to stay at Bea’s until a firm completion deadline could be negotiated with the various contractors.  Din had insisted on staying behind to lead the "negotiations" and "supervise" the follow through; lo and behold, everything had been completed to perfection and cleaned up thoroughly two weeks after.  Upon seeing the beautiful finished space, you finally felt at home – though frustrated, you hadn’t ever been terribly mad about the whole situation, but it had been a very confusing time for your pup.

Din had felt awful – this wasn’t the symbolic big step and storybook start to your lives together that he had envisioned.  You either, if you were being honest, but it genuinely mattered very little in the grand scheme of things; you reminded Din, as the two of you christened every surface of your brand new kitchen, that your lives together had really started a year before moving in together, when he had taken his own big step and shown up outside of your office, making you the promise to be open and honest about everything.

And he had.  Din had forgiven himself and won you back, and these last two years have been the happiest of your lives, even with the renovations. 

In that time a lot’s happened.  Jimmy won another two division championships and moved up a weight class.  Cass announced that her and Rikard were expecting.  Rory’s bridal boutique expanded to a second even more successful location and to her chagrin, she was promoted to manager.  The second book in Bea’s series came out to amazing reviews and the anticipation and hype for the third (due out later this year) was through the roof.  Poe decided to pursue and then successfully obtained his pilot license.  You went up in his Cessna just once – the views had been unforgettable, Lisa getting sick in your lap no lesser so.  Katie guest starred on Law and Order – twice (two different characters).  You met the Mods.  And Al finally settled into his new home, overseeing his new kingdom from the plush and cozy dog den that his dad lovingly built for him.

And now you and Din are about to take another big step together.

Greeted enthusiastically by one of the women who runs the Spanish hunting dog haven with whom you’ve been conversing with over the past few months about adoption, you and Din take a tour of the facility before being led out back to meet the dogs.

Per Elenna’s guidance, you sit in a chair near the water bowls and let the galgos come to you on their own terms.  Some, understandably, are shy and timid, wary of strangers – tentatively, they come and investigate you with their snoots, eventually accepting your gentle pats and scritches once they feel comfortable enough.  Others have no such hesitation - tails wagging, curious and excited, they enthusiastically crowd you, nosing in for pets and try to sniff out the treats you have in your pocket.  Your chest expands, heart nearly tripling in size to see these dogs get to be dogs again, as you rub their little faces and coo endless words of deserved praise at them for their bravery.

Maybe the plane will have room for another crate, you think, or two?  You can’t stop giggling as your face is licked and poked with wet noses, or when those same noses goose your tummy and legs, competing for the attention of your busy hands – you’re in heaven, nearly overwhelmed by all this furry cuteness.  Surely Din cannot possibly expect you to limit yourself to one! Knowing the marshmallow squish that resides beneath his hard and steely frame, you’re willing to bet that Din has already softened his stance on taking home multiple pups.  You crane your neck to see over the dogs, looking around the property to see if you can locate your boyfriend.

To your surprise, you find him not being surrounded by enthusiastic, bounding galgos, but alone - crouching near the ground and gently scratching a smaller fawn coloured dog who’s laying on her side, her slender head lifted just slightly off the ground to lean into Din’s hand.

“That’s Lisette,” Elenna says when she notices you looking at Din and the fawn girl, “she’s just come to us after this last hunting season - we found her in the street with a broken leg.  She’s all healed up now but is still quite skittish, especially around men.  This is actually the first time I’ve ever seen her let a man touch her, never mind a stranger.  Your husband must have a very calming touch.”

“Oh, he’s not my husb-” your voice trails off as you watch Lisette continue to happily receive Din’s attention.  Walking over, you hear him speaking quietly to her in Spanish.

“What are you telling her, Din?”

Din looks up, eyes soft and shiny, “Just telling her what a good girl she is.  That’s she so brave and sweet.  And that she doesn’t have anything to be afraid of anymore.  She’s safe now.”

There is no question as to which (one) dog you’ll be adopting today.

Lisette settles in quickly when you and Din get her back home, especially with Al immediately taking up his role as big brother.  Lisette falls into the easy comfort of following his lead, regularly looking to Alfredo for guidance – he never leads her astray and the two of them become inseparable.  With growing pride, you watch Lisette tentatively explore her new environment and slowly over the next few months, becomes more and more comfortable in her forever home: first your and Din’s apartment, then the gym, whose enthusiastic occupants always greet her like the princess she is, and eventually the entire neighbourhood where she’s never without her protective brother by her side.  When she’s ready, you and Din take her and Al out on further away adventures: to your and Din’s favourite farmers’ market, Poe and Lisa’s (where you learn in their pool that Lisette can swim!) or to Boba and Fennec’s where she can run and play with Mochi and the other Daimyo Dogs.  Your heart positively kvells as Lisette’s confidence grows and she becomes the happy pup she deserves to be, putting her less than ideal start to life behind her.

The only thing you wish you could change, though you would never push, is that Lisette won’t cuddle with you - she only ever cuddles with Din.  You know she loves you, but she’s very much a daddy’s girl and he’s the only one with whom she feels safe enough to have in such close proximity while sleeping or relaxing.  You don’t begrudge Lisette at all for feeling this way; Din is her protector, she trusts him to keep her safe - you understand the comfort of that feeling better than anyone.

And in truth, you love watching them together – seeing your sweet girl so at ease and your strong, formidable warrior melt into a puddle of goo when she burrows into the warmth of his lap.  Din talks to Lisette in Spanish all the time, repeating what he told her back in Andalucia: she’s safe now, she doesn’t have to be scared anymore - this is her home.

Your home feels complete now – there’s nowhere you would rather be than cuddled up on the couch with Din, each respectively loving on the pups that have curled up against you: you, Al and Din, Lisette.

Then one day, you’re on the couch tapping away on your laptop when Lisette saunters up to you.  You rub her little head and give her a little smooch on her snoot as she walks by, fully expecting her to wander away but she surprises you to no end when she hops up on the couch and curls up by your feet.  Terribly delighted but not wanting to spook her, you pretend like it’s no big deal – your heart, however, is doing jumping jacks; looking up with a big smile you see Din nodding encouragingly at the both of you.

And then she does it again.  And again.  At first still staying arms length from you, she inches closer and closer, little by little.  Though your chest is exploding and you want to shout with joy, you always remain calm and give Lisette copious amounts of quiet praise after she’s settled.  To celebrate this progress, Din will eventually come over to shower Lisette with additional treats and Spanish words of adulation that she happily accepts.  Sometimes you even catch him encouraging her before she comes over to you or see her looking back at him for reassurance before she climbs onto the bed or couch to sit with you.  Always her protector, her safe space.

It's slow going, but worth it.

Today, you’re on the couch having just finished a book, funnily enough it’s the most recent in the fantasy series that Din had bought you and your friends on that first day you met nearly four years ago, when you see Lisette moseying on over to you.  You swing your legs off the couch and pat the spot next to you, and to your delight, she hops up and starts to do her little nesting circles, prepping for her laydown spot.  When she finally settles, she lays her little head in your lap and you think your heart might burst.  You look up and see Din, handsome and relaxed, leaning against one of the bookshelves looking at the both of you with an adoring expression on his face.  You beam back - yep, the two of you are his girls.  The ones he takes care of.  Looks after.  Loves.

Lisette nuzzles her furry little face deeper into your thigh and you can’t help but giggle at the sensation.  “Okay, okay,” you chuckle, as if you needed any invitation to pet and love on her.  Dispensing gentle scritches all over her head and little ear rubs, you notice that your sweet girl has an extra collar on.  Normally Lisette wears just a martingale and sometimes nothing at all when she’s at home, but today, she’s got a thin rope collar encircling her neck as well.  Rubbing it between your fingers, you say to Din, “This is pretty!  When did she get this house collar?”

“Got it for her a while ago, but thought I’d wait for the right moment to put it on.  Do you like it?”

Lisette lifts her head and you take the opportunity to take a closer look at the pretty pink collar; admiring the delicate metalware and the luxurious feeling fibres of the rope, you run your fingers over the collar until you get to the small clasp in the front and feel something you don’t expect.  Rotating the collar around Lisette’s slender neck so you can get a better look at the thin object, you gasp when it comes into view.

A diamond ring.

Din, with Al by his side, starts to walk towards you, the look in his eyes clear and so easy to read: Devotion.  Adoration.  Love.

“Pretty bird…” he starts.  Din has an entire speech planned.  He needs to thank you for coming into his life and showing him what true strength and power is.  Grace, honesty, and compassion have been your gifts to him, and he’s a better man, a stronger man, for your kindness and generosity.  He wants to promise you that your faith in him will never be misplace – that he will cherish you and your heart to the very last beat of his own and beyond.  He loves you, admires you, trusts you, is in awe of you, and remains forever grateful for you.  Grateful for every smile you throw his way, every laugh you pull from him and allow him to draw from you, thankful for all the ways you’ve woven yourself into his life and made it better.  And above all, grateful for your acceptance and love for him and all that he is, was, and ever will be.  He needs to ask you if you will allow him the honour of spending the remainder of his days showing you his gratitude and loving you the way you deserve.

Din’s heart is overflowing and he has so much he wishes to express; he’s not entirely sure he’s going to be able to make any sense.  But Din’s not nervous - the radiant smile on your beautiful face as he approaches already telling him everything he needs to know.

Real life Lisette!! 🥰🥰

Very last tag for this series!! Thank you all forever for your support 🥹😘

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@syd-djarin @moonlessnight14 @lucienofthelakes

[joshleyson]

THIS IS: SIARGAO ✨

December film dump 🎞️

Growing up in Mindanao for almost 2 decades and never actually being able to traverse the picturesque landscapes in the eastern part of the island is something that I know I have to break before the year ends. So I did.

I flew from Manila to Cebu so early in the morning to catch a connecting flight to Siargao by noon. Traveling to Siargao was a lot of firsts for me. Not having to go to every detail but when the plane was about to take off to Siargao, we were all offloaded due to the bad weather on the island. Fortunately, instead of having to fly back to Manila, the airline was kind enough to take me to a nearby hotel in Cebu, all expenses paid including food, transportation, and next-day ticket. It was an unexpected staycation which surprisingly I enjoyed.

Coming from a very tiring day at work and then going to the airport, I felt like I really needed this quiet time, and I was able to check in to this lavish hotel all by myself while waiting for my flight the next day. Also, I had a great night as well in Cebu catching up with one of my long-time friends and her beaux. I went back to my hotel around 3 in the morning because there’s just so many things to catch up and I really missed my homie so much. Keyword: low-maintenance friendships.

So the day finally came, and I was able to land safely on the island of Siargao. Right off the bat on my first night, I had a lovely dinner with my travel friends slash buddies at work and we went to a bar, and danced the night away which to me serves as a prelude to the great experience this vibrant community had in stored for me as a Mindanaoan that have never set foot beyond the confines of Zamboanga and western Mindanao.

We spent our days being on the road which to me was such a release. Being able to smell the fresh ocean breeze while blasting our favorite Y2K songs in the car and relying on Waze or Google Maps for our next destination, to me, makes the trip so much fun because of the spontaneity and unpredictability that it brings. We went island hopping, danced in the boat, swam on open waters, ate our hearts out, moved from one accommodation to another, and I tried surfing for the first time! I never thought I would enjoy the experience because it was raining lightly at that time and the waves were so big it could easily engulf me, but man, best day ever!!!! I fell on the surfing board and slammed my body on the rushing waves several times but being able to stand on the surfboard for the first time was such a liberating experience. A little bit of a stretch, but it was and I will try it again once I go back to Siargao.

☾

I flew back to Cebu and then to Manila to catch one of my friend’s wedding and luckily I made it with no delay. Looking at the pictures that I got to develop from a Fuji film camera that I brought with me on the island, I am reminded again of the incredible healing power of what it’s like to try new things, be with nature, and just breathe. Knowing that the year is about to end in a couple of weeks, I felt so blessed to have that opportunity to break the complicated rhythm of corporate life and to disconnect for a moment. 

After 3 weeks, I get to fly back to Boracay to celebrate New Year’s Eve. So many epic moments that I am also grateful for which I may save for the future but nevertheless, my last month of 2023 was such a banger and I hope it always feels that way.

By the way, I’m writing all these on my iPhone because I’m too tired to get up and open my MacBook, so I appreciate you for hanging with me this far. So that’s it for 2023!

Simply put, I just want to say Happy Holidays to you and your loved ones, and may 2024 be as effervescent as your hopes and dreams for the future.

J.

(December, 2023)

(Photos were shot using Fujifilm Simpleace 35 mm camera + iPhone 15 Pro Max)

FOLLOW ME: Instagram/TikTok/Twitter: joshleyson

(Music by Grammy nominee, Victoria Monét. All rights belong to her and her publishers. For personal and non-commercial use only. Stream her great catalogue on Spotify and Apple Music.)

[yurucamp]

hi io!! i wanted to ask because i see you travel a lot!! Do you usually travel by yourself? Have you ever felt fear about traveling/being alone outside in foreign places? I'm recovering from agoraphobia and your photos really inspire me to get to know the world esp because I'm very intrigued about all of the smaller underrepresented cultures that exist everywhere! Sorry if it sounds invasive, i hope you have a nice day ^_^

hi! thank you for the question :- ) please don't apologize for anything, it's not invasive at all- i'm cheering you on in your journey towards recovery, there's a world of strange and beautiful things out there and you'll have so many opportunities- your whole life- to see them.

i go on shorter trips by myself but for extended periods i usually travel with other people! it's hard for me to think of times i've felt unsafe while traveling (and i think i often feel more unsafe where i grew up).

the scariest thing that happened to me recently was that when i was in tbilisi in july i took a bus an hour out of the city to see some ruins and i missed my bus back so i had to walk a few miles in the rain and this random dog followed me for a good 45 minutes. the roads were really narrow and she kept on running out in front of cars, the drivers of which would honk and yell at *me* thinking i was walking *my* dog but it was purely her decision to implicate me in her actions.

but that is the kind of little adventure that could have been avoided with a little foresight, like looking at the weather forecast... or just waiting for the next bus...

[mc-lukanette]

Luka stopped his walk down the street as the pleasant scent of baked goods hit his nose. He tended to go all over Paris depending on his mood, simply to see if inspiration would strike, and while he'd only taken a trip down this particular road a few times, he knew that he'd never smelled any baked goods there before.

He looked up at the source, noting that there was a new bakery he hadn't seen before. He caught himself smiling at the cursive writing on the awning, reminded of how Marinette would always write that way when she wanted to be "fancy," even to the point of trying to learn how to write cursive back when they were little kids.

Of course, that naturally led him to want to buy something for her. If the bakery didn't have anything she liked then Juleka and Rose would never say "no" to sweets.

He approached and pushed the door open, hearing the bell above announce his presence. There wasn't anyone behind the counter, but he could see an oven open and someone partway inside, probably reaching for something.

"J-just a minute!"

Luka stiffened. The voice sounded off from inside the oven, but was no less recognizable to him. "Marinette?"

"Luka?! AH—!" She rose up quickly in her shock, hitting her head off the ceiling of the oven and letting out a pained hiss.

He rushed over immediately, pulling her out and touching the back of her head to check it. Luckily, it didn't seem serious and he couldn't feel any heat from the oven itself, so she hadn't just rammed her head directly into a hot surface.

"I-I was just checking to make sure there was enough room," she whined, peering up at him while he rubbed the spot that'd gotten hurt. "What are you doing here?"

"I was walking by," he replied. Frowning, he added, "I didn't know you worked in a bakery."

She averted her gaze, ashamed. It puzzled him, wondering why she would be so shy about this when they'd shared and done everything together growing up.

"Mmnn." Marinette toyed with her light blue apron, twisting the fabric in her hands. "I-I...I mean, I just bought it, and I wasn't sure if it would even work out, so—"

"You bought it?" Luka interrupted. Something occurring to him now that she'd said that, he started to scan the room, listening close to see if he could hear anyone else. Looking around the space he could see, there wasn't any sign of another employee working there. "Have you been doing this alone?"

She didn't answer at first, pouting and fidgeting with her apron further. Worrying that she might ruin the apron she'd clearly made herself, Luka reached out and took her hands, letting her fidget with him instead.

She sighed, gripping his hands back and running her thumbs across his fingers. "I didn't know anyone else I could trust? And you already have a job."

"I can quit," he said without missing a beat.

"N-no!" She threw her hands up in front of her, flailing. "I've always been dragging you along for whatever since the day we met! I didn't want to do it again!"

"Dragging me along for..." He trailed off, trying to summon any memories of such a thing. "Wasn't that what I was doing to you?"

"What?" She shook her head. "No. I love doing things with you."

"It's the same for me."

That had simply been their dynamic to him. Fashion was her favorite hobby, as music was for him, but neither were truly interested in making said passions a job. Whenever a new thing or opportunity arose for them to try something new, it was always together. It didn't matter what it was, one of them would bring it up and the other would follow along without a word.

Marinette, unsure of how else to take the admission from him, blushed and played with her bangs. "I...I didn't know what I could do for work, but then I started thinking about when we were kids. Since Papa and Maman had so many ingredients because of the bakery, we always snuck away with some so we could bake too."

Luka chuckled at the memory. His fondest was undoubtedly the time when they'd tried to make croissants; the edges of two of them had baked themselves together. They'd tried to be clever (as clever as kids could be) and called it a "ringssant," but pulling them apart to eat them had felt bittersweet. "We had to cover for each other and make sure we didn't have flour in our hair so we wouldn't get caught."

She giggled. "Yeah." She let out a breath, eyes softening in her reminiscence. "And I thought... if I got my own bakery, then at least I'd be doing something with a lot of good memories attached."

So she wanted to have a bakery because of him; because of their relationship. He started blushing himself, shoving his hands into his pockets while he thought that over. It wasn't just a whim or something she chose on the fly like all of their other temporary interests, but rather a job that she wanted to do that she associated with him.

He'd be kicking himself forever if he wasn't able to become a part of it.

"Do you have another apron?" When she simply blinked at him, he clarified, "I want to work here."

"But—!"She tightened her hands into fists, pouting. "You don't even know if you'd like it! It was just something we did when we were growing up!"

She made a fair enough point, but wasn't considering the bigger picture. Luka supposed that he'd never said it outright, so it was technically his own fault for not being clear.

He bent down to be level with her face, Marinette not moving a centimeter as he leaned in to place a familiar kiss on her cheek. She'd given her own to show affection, but he tended to use his to prove he was serious. Perhaps it was cheating, but he didn't care.

"It was never about what we did, Marinette," he told her as he straightened up again, "but I can wait if you don't have another apron ready."

She pursed her lips, blushing the cute shade of pink she always did when he kissed her cheek, then relented and turned away to head into the back of the bakery. He grinned in victory, walking a few steps away to lean against the counter while he waited.

To his complete lack of surprise, Marinette returned with another apron, this one pink with blue accents to complement her own. Luka had known her for more than long enough to know that she rarely made anything without giving it "a friend," as she used to say when they were younger. Her work often came in pairs because of it and they tended to have matching accessories - despite their differences in style - for the same reason.

He took a step away from the counter, then turned his back to her and raised his arms to get them away from his sides. He could hear the occasional mumble from her about how he might still regret this, but she didn't hesitate to lift the neck strap above his head and slip it onto him. Her hands brushed his sides as she took the waist ties and knotted them together at his back, but he was careful to hold still. It was casual enough for them that he didn't feel any need to be shy about it.

He wanted to spin around afterward to ask her how it looked on him, but two arms went around his waist before he could, Marinette's face pressing into his back as she hugged him from behind. The scent of pastries suddenly became unknown to him as her perfume overpowered his senses.

"Sorry," she whispered. "I felt awful not telling you, but after you got your own job I thought it was a sign that maybe we shouldn't do everything together anymore..."

Ah. So that was it. He wondered if it would be too much to admit that he did it because he wanted to be able to buy her gifts.

Almost unconsciously, he brought a hand up to rest on one of hers. While he couldn't see her well from his current position, he turned his head anyway to make sure she heard him as clearly as possible, assuring, "You don't have to worry about that. I'm not going anywhere."

She squeezed him tighter, as if ensuring that he couldn't even try to go back on the promise. He was fine with that, content to stand there in her arms until she felt at ease again.

She'd see soon enough, he was sure, that he wanted to stay with her just as much as she did with him.

[fangirlingfromdownunder]

Comfort in a Home-Cooked Meal

Summary - Part 50 in the Comfort series

Pairing - Dean Winchester x Reader, Reader x Sam (platonic), Reader x Bobby (father-figure), Andre (OG Character) x Reader (best friends), Garth x Bess

Series Masterlist | Masterlist

A/N: Happy New Year! I hope you all had some great celebrations with family and friends. 

Over the few days without Sam and Dean, you and Destiny do face masks, makeup, manicures, pedicures, and watch many movies. You both enjoy the freedom and relaxation of it all. You and Dean text as much as possible, assuring the other that you’re safe. You Google the property from the newspaper and peruse the photos for hours, imagining what it could look like with your few belongings inside and with your and Dean’s touch. You almost send him the link to the advertisement, but stop yourself. He always takes things better in person, and so many changes have already occurred recently. You don’t know how he’ll take another massive life change so soon. 

He texted you this morning saying they were hitting the road and coming home today. The hunt had been more difficult than they had hoped. But that’s not unusual. There’s always some turn that drags them out. You know the territory well, so you didn’t complain or make him feel worse. You just offered help from the Bunker; completing research late into the night while Destiny slept. 

Now knowing he’ll be home for dinner you set off working hard in the kitchen, Destiny at your side. Despite not liking the smell or taste of any of the ingredients, she helps eagerly. With her help, you manage to cook a decent-looking three-course meal. You have cheesy garlic bread and tomato soup to start, a mixed roast with chicken and veggies for the main and a large apple pie for dessert. You feel bad that Destiny won’t enjoy eating anything she helped create, but her happiness shows you that she just enjoyed the process and being able to do something nice for Dean especially. Once you’re done cooking, Destiny even helps you with the mountain of dirty dishes, not wanting to create or leave any extra work for the boys when they get home after the rough hunt and long trip. You want to just snuggle up with your husband after dinner and not worry about anything. 

While they’ve been away, you even had Destiny sleeping alone in her room. You would stay with her and chat until she fell asleep and then wait a while after but then you’d sneak out to the library to do research for the boys. And for the first time, last night she finally stayed the whole night in her own bed. She didn’t wake up crying or crawl into your bed. You’re not sure if it’s all the relaxation techniques you’ve been trying or if she’s just finally adapting, or a mix of both, but you’re glad all the same; for her sake and yours. You just hope she’ll do it again tonight so you can finally have a quiet night – or even an eventful one – with your husband alone. 

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

The boys finally arrive home around 6 pm. You and Destiny are snuggling on your bed watching another anime when Dean walks in. He instantly dumps his bag on the floor and dives onto the bed with you both, wrapping you both up in his arms. 

“I’ve missed you guys,” he says as he kisses Destiny’s head and then pulls you in for a soft kiss.

“We’ve missed you too. But we had a fun girl’s week too.” You pause the movie causing Destiny to pout. “But you must be hungry. Dinner’s ready and waiting.” Dean looks at you mischievously and you instantly know what he’s thinking. You give him a stern look and shake your head. “It’s in the kitchen.”

“Can I tell Sam?” Destiny asks, surprising you both.

“Sure, go ahead,” you say encouragingly. You smile as she crawls off the bed excitedly and scurries down the hall. 

Dean takes the opportunity to pull you closer to his chest and kiss you passionately. He starts to get carried away, pushing you down into the soft memory foam mattress as he crawls over you. “I’m sure you cooked a delicious meal, but the only dinner I want is right here.” he kisses down your neck as you fight to contain yourself.

“As amazing as that sounds…the door’s open and that little girl will have a lot of questions if we don’t go out there or if she sees this. And I’m not ready to answer those questions. Are you?” you ask as you push him to sit up.

He sighs. “No. Why did I agree to this again?”

“Because you love me. And she’s growing on you. You’re great with kids, I know you wanted one. Anyway, you’ve lasted longer celibate.”

“Yeah, but I only just got to give that up and get you back again. I miss you. I miss feeling you and making love to you.”

“She slept all night in her own bed last night.”

“Really?”

“Yep. No nightmares. No waking up.”

Dean kisses you deeply with a big smirk. “Let’s go eat. The sooner we eat, the sooner it can be bedtime,” he says excitedly when he pulls away.

“You’re such a dork,” you say laughing as he climbs off the bed and pulls you with him.

“But I’m your dork.”

“That you are. For ever and ever.”

With a spring in his step, he leads you to the kitchen where he finds the feast laid out on the small table, complete with the best cutlery and crockery you could find in the dusty old cupboards. Sam and Destiny are already sitting down. Sam has a plate full of food in front of him while Destiny has the cow heart you put aside earlier; it’s a stark contrast to the vision the rest of the meal creates but you accept it. While researching their case, you also looked through the library for a cure for lycanthropy but the only thing you could find was for newly turned werewolves and only if they hadn’t fed on human hearts. Destiny being born a werewolf and also the fact that her father was feeding her human hearts exclude her from that option. But you and Dean agreed to take her on as she is in that park, so you accept her, cow hearts and all. You smile as you sit down beside her and start to fill your own plate. Dean sits beside Sam, across from you, and starts to fill his plate too. 

“This is delicious. Thanks Y/N. Much better than diner food,” Sam says. “I could get used to you staying here and us coming home to this.”

You smile at him and nod, but you feel guilty. The photos of the house on the hill filter through your mind. Could you really be happy here, like this? Raising a little girl in a Bunker? Will Dean ever really get out if you stay? He promised. He said he wanted to get out. He’s finally ready. But if we stay here… 

Dean notices the small frown as your mind wanders and nudges your leg under the table, bringing you back to the present. He catches your eyes, silently asking if you’re okay. You nod and focus on eating the meal you put so much time, effort and passion into cooking. Of course, he’s not convinced but he lets it go for now. He knows you’ll talk when you’re ready. 

After dinner and dessert, everyone helps to tidy up from the meal and do the dishes. Sam then retreats to his room while you start on the nightly routine you established over the last week. You make sure Destiny showers and brushes her teeth before you tuck her into her bed. You then sit on the end of the bed and go through some of the meditation exercises you found online that are meant to help with nightmares and insomnia. You have a feeling these exercises would be beneficial for your husband too, but you know it will be a push to get him to try them. Maybe in time, you can make them a family thing, but for now, you’re content with doing them with Destiny. When she starts to yawn and curl up in the blankets you place a kiss on her head and turn out the main light, leaving just the little dog-shaped nightlight on. You thought it was a little on the nose at first, but she chose it and wouldn’t put it down in the store so you happily bought it for her. You sit in a comfy chair by the door and wait for her breathing to even out. As you wait you start to drift off, but Dean peaks his head in and kisses your head.

“She asleep?” he asks quietly.

You watch the steady rise and fall of her body as she breathes for a moment and then nod. He offers you his hand which you take and he leads you to your room. He’s dressed in a pair of loose sweats and an old T-shirt, indicating he already showered while waiting for you. You frown as he climbs into bed, beckoning you to join him.

“I haven’t showered yet.”

“Sorry, did you want me to wait for you? I can always shower again if you want me to join…” You shake your head. “Come on, you look like you’re about to fall asleep standing up. Shower later. Come cuddle your husband. He’s so very cold and lonely. And misses having his sexy wife in his arms.”

“Only if he stops talking about himself in the third person.”

“Just come here, Sweetheart.” He opens his arms wide, inviting you to lay on his chest. You don’t make him wait, you crawl onto the bed and into his waiting arms. He tightens his grip around you as you get comfortable.

Despite, falling asleep not minutes earlier and the comfort of Dean's embrace and steady breathing you couldn’t be more awake. The thoughts of what Sam said earlier along with your own concerns and the images of the house swirl around your mind. 

“You still awake?” you ask quietly, not wanting to wake him if he is.

“You wanna talk about what was on your mind at dinner?” he asks as he rubs your back.

You nod, and then say, “Are we still planning to get out?”

You feel him tense a little as his hand stops moving on your back. After a moment he nods. “We’re not gonna raise Destiny in the Bunker forever are we?”

“Are we gonna stop answering each other's questions with more questions?”

“Yes.”

“Yes? To what? We’re not answering with questions or?”

He chuckles lowly. “Both. I meant it when I said I was ready. We’re married now, we have a daughter (essentially), you cook delicious three-course-meals…I think we can manage.”

“Hey!” you say mocking offence. “I kinda enjoy the housewife, stay-at-home-mom thing. I think I’d want to do something eventually, especially when or if Destiny goes to school full-time. But for now, I’m happy for the break. I know you’d need to stay busy though…”

“Maybe I could follow in Bobby’s footsteps. I am pretty good with cars. We just need the house in the suburbs with the white picket fence.”

“Or maybe we don’t…” you reach over onto your bedside table for your phone and bring up the ad as he looks at you confused. “It’s not in the suburbs and it doesn’t have a fence, let alone a white picket one, but I think it’s perfect.” You bite your lip as you hand him your phone and he scrolls through the photos.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Tag list: (Leave a like or comment on this post or let me know below if you want to be added to the tag list for this series)

@bitchwitch1981, @muhahaha303, @justrealizedimmascifygurl, @mcdowell-123, @leigh70, @marvelsmarauder, @losa12308, @tapedeck-hearts, @luvjaida, @peachtxa, @ambearsstuff, @shadow-of-a-cloud, @slut-for-buck, @iprobablyshipit91, @sassy-pelican, @fallenlilangel99, @heavenlyhopeful0, @nelachu2423, @ladysparkles78, @canyouimaginethatstory, @mrlonelycat, @roseblue373, @staley83

[ashisgreedy]

Professor Garreth Weasley x Female!MC

"A Potion Of You"

Tags|Contains: SFW | Fluff | Aged-up Adult chars like 21+ish | Old crushes die hard | Mutual Pining |

Word Count: 3,500 |Ch 2|

Chapter 1

The Three Broomsticks was more crowded than ever. She made her way into the bar, dodging and weaving people as she did. Her eyes scanned the patrons and landed on a familiar face.

“It’s been a while.” Sirona greeted her with a warm smile.

Her shoulders relaxed at the welcome sight. “Yes, it has.” She returned the smile, pulling Sirona into a friendly hug. 

It was warmer inside than it had been out in the cool night air. She welcomed the change of atmosphere, feeling the tip of her nose begin to thaw. 

“I didn’t think I’d see so many old faces in one night.” Sirona walked around the bar and waved her wand at the keg. “First round of butterbeer is on me.”

“Thank you.” She took a seat on the closest empty stool. “You said you saw other familiar faces here already. Do you know where they’ve gone? I’m supposed to be meeting up with some old friends but I’m a bit late.” 

She glanced around again but didn’t see anyone she immediately recognized. She figured everyone she used to know may all look much different anyway. They were older and more mature-looking now that they were proper adults and not children going through a slew of puberty symptoms. Regretfully, it had been years since she had last seen any of her Hogwarts friends. It’s not that she didn’t want to keep in touch. She did. But, her desire for adventure took her farther from the castle than she’d ever imagined. 

Her whole trip to Hogsmeade was a desperate attempt at seeking new opportunities. She wasn’t strapped for cash, but she was growing crazed for something new. The adventures she had as an adult were much less fun than when she was a teen. She grew bored of the humdrum and wondered if it would always be like that. 

When Amit saw her walking around town earlier in the day, she was promptly invited to the bar for drinks. Amit said a few others were in town for the weekend as well and that they should all meet up again for old-time's sake. It piqued her interest, of course. She wondered what everyone else was doing with their lives. She thought she could take some inspiration and find something she was passionate about like Amit had done.

She took a big swig of her butterbeer but she stopped when she felt a tap on her shoulder.

“Hey, stranger!” Amit greeted. He patted her on the back a couple of times boasting a huge grin. “I’ve been keeping an eye on the door to make sure I didn’t miss your entrance!” He shouted over the growing volume of the crowd.

“It’s good to see you again, Amit! Sorry, I am late. I got caught up chatting with the vendor up the road.” 

Chatting was one way of putting it. Truthfully, she was prying to see if there were any odd jobs she could take. A missing item? A recent troll attack? A possible kidnapping of a precious family pet?? Even if the task was small she was willing to pounce on it, as pathetic as she thought that might be. 

“Not to worry!” He laughed. “Oh! Can we get another round please?” He gestured to Sirona.

Sirona nodded, pointing her wand toward the keg. Amit pointed up the stairs. “Want to come join us? We’re just up the stairs on the first landing!” He swayed as he pointed. 

“Amit, are you sure you don’t need a glass of water or something instead?” She teased, grabbing her things as she stood. 

“OH! Come on! When do you think I will get to celebrate like this again so soon?! It’s good to see some old friends!” 

She followed closely behind him as he ventured back up the stairs. She wasn’t too sure who exactly would be joining them and found herself quite curious suddenly. 

“I want you to know that I had full confidence you would be joining us tonight! Unlike some people...” Amit squinted at Leander in acquisition. 

When he stepped out of the way she was able to see the ragtag group Amit had managed to wrangle. Her eyes scanned left to right waving and smiling at everyone. Her gaze stopped on another familiar face and she froze. 

“H-hey!” He stood, flame-red hair a bit longer than she remembered. His shoulders were broader and his face was more defined, angular. “You made it!” Garreth walked over to her and stood in disbelief. She wondered if he was going to hug her, but he remained at a respectful distance.  

“Hello, Garreth! It’s been a while since I last saw you. I don’t remember you being so…” handsome “...tall.” 

“Ah, yeah” he laughed, foregoing the idea of hugging her after all. “That tends to happen when you get older.” He looked over at Leander. “For some of us.” 

“Hey! I’m average height!” Leander balked. 

“Please, sit with us!” A brown-haired woman gestured. She recognized her face but couldn’t put a name to it.

“Yes, thank you… uh.” 

“Violet!” 

“Thank you, Violet.” 

Garreth ran his fingers through his hair and pulled out the nearest chair. “Yes, please have a seat.” He waited until she sat before he moved back to sit across from her. 

She settled in while he took a huge swig of his drink, banging the empty mug down onto the table when he was done. Garreth’s maroon tie was already loose and the top button of his cream shirt was undone. She drank in the sight of him, noting all the subtle changes since she last saw him. It was much warmer on the second floor of the bar. Everyone else's coat was already hanging off the backs of their chairs and their scarfs were removed. 

“Here you are.” Sirona came up behind them. She began to set fresh mugs in the center of their table. 

There were five of them now, all sitting together around a large rectangular table. Amit set to her right while Garreth and Leander sat directly in front of her. Leander was seated between Garreth and Violet. 

“What round are you guys on?” She asked, realizing just how flushed everyone looked. Amit was giggling at something Leander whispered. 

“What does it matter!” He threw his hands into the air. 

“One too many.” Garreth teased, pulling Amit’s new mug away. 

“Hey! Give that back!” He stood and reached after his butterbeer. 

Leander stood, held out his hand, and made sure Amit didn’t fall forward onto the table. “Maybe some peanuts for the table?” He suggested to Violet. 

“Yes, let me go see if there’s a bowl nearby.” She stood, smiling at the guy's antics. 

Everyone already seemed to be in such a good mood. She hoped it would rub off on her. She couldn’t shake the antsy feeling. Even now, back at her old stomping grounds, she was restless. Years ago, this place would have been a respite from all the activities she was always doing. Now, it WAS the adventure. 

Garreth leaned toward her and spoke in a low tone. “I think he was here for a while before we got here.” Angling his eyes to Amit. 

Leander nodded. “Much earlier.” He joined in a low tone. “He’s on the verge of getting tossed out of here.” He jested.

Amit settled back into his chair when Violet brought over the bowl of nuts. “So!” Amit began, slurring a bit. “What have YOU been up to these past few years.” He clapped his hands together, narrowly knocking over the bowl. Violet caught it just in time. 

She cleared her throat. “Me? Um,” She scoured her mind for anything in her life that sounded even remotely interesting. 

“Yes! What have you been up to?” Garreth added. “I feel like I haven’t seen you in ages.” 

“Your hair is longer.” Leander pointed out. 

“I keep it shorter now than how I had it in school.” 

Leander squinted. “Then you style it differently… or something?” He guessed, tossing back a handful of peanuts.

Garreth shook his head with a sigh. His smile was contagious and she found herself grinning too. 

“Do you work at the ministry? Or do you have your own shop?” Garreth pressed eagerly. 

“Well, no. I mean, I did work at the ministry briefly.” Very briefly… barely 3 days. She wondered how many of her jobs she should raddle off. “And, I helped out at a shop near where I live for a bit.” One time. “But, right now I mostly do odd jobs here and there.” She rubbed her hands on her legs. Her palms had begun to sweat. 

Garreth nodded thoughtfully. “You haven’t found anything you want to stick with yet?”

“Not yet.” She pressed her lips together. She took a large sip of her butterbeer and used her finger to wipe away any foam. “What do you do?”

Garreth smiled and began “Well, I-”

“He's a big shot professor now!” Amit blurted out.

“Oh?” She looked back at him with an impressed look. 

“Yep!” Leander clapped Garreth on the back. “He’s the potions professor now.” His eyes held a prideful glint for his friend. “I know, shocker.”

“That’s impressive, Garreth! How do you like it?” She asked, leaning in with interest.  

Garreth shook off Leander's hand from his shoulder and grabbed a fresh mug from the center. 

“I love it!” His leg hit hers under the table and he sat up straight. “Sorry,”

“It’s alright.” She smiled, waving him off. “Tell us how you landed that position.” She sat back and took another drink of her beer. 

“Connections!” Leander blurted. “Luck! Possibly even liquid luck!” 

“Shut it, Leander.” Violet quipped, tossing a peanut at him. “Just because you needed liquid luck to get your job at the ministry doesn’t mean everyone else needs it.” 

Leander fished for the nut Violet had tossed at him and ate it straight away. 

“Connections or not, Garreth is a very talented potions master now!” Amit spoke up. He had begun to sink into his chair while his eyes drooped. 

“Oh really?” She met Garreth’s emerald eyes. 

“If you can believe it.” He smiled kindly and held her stare. She could swear she saw his face redden a bit. 

Garreth was always chipper in school no matter the circumstances. Now was no different. It seemed like he’d always have a cheerful air. That was why she always gravitated toward him during their school years. Even on the hardest days, she knew he would lighten the mood and her spirits. 

“I believe it. I am so happy for you.” She leaned forward toward him and Garreth mirrored her. 

“I could give you a tour of my classroom sometime. If, I mean, If you are going to stick around for another day.” Garreth’s eyes glittered as he smiled.

“Oh.” She pushed her hair behind her ear. “I’m not sure how long I’ll be here.”

“Of course.” He sat back up. “I didn’t mean to impose or-”

“No, no! You didn’t. I would love to see your classroom. I just hadn’t thought about where I’d stay.”

Garreth leaned back in, smiling brightly again. “I’m sure Sirona could set you up with a room tonight.”

“This is so cute.” Amit sighed. “I still ship it.” 

“What?” She snapped her head toward Amit and pinched her brows in confusion.

“Amit.” Garreth spoke his name sternly. She wondered if he used the same tone with his students when they acted out in his class. 

“Bah!” He waved his hand. “It was years ago!” 

“What was?” She inquired. 

“Nothing- Amit!” Garreth spoke over Amit as he began to ramble.

“Garreth used to be so hopelessly in love with you.” Amit sighed, clutching at his heart. “It was so cute listening to him go on and on about if he should ask you out or confess to you. He had so many plans to ask you on a date and not one time did he follow through.” Amit laughed. 

Leander nodded in agreement.

“Amit that's enough.” Garreth glared at Amit, desperation in his tone. 

“I had… no idea.” She kept her gaze down and readjusted in her seat. Her foot hit Garreth’s knee as she tried to cross her legs. 

“We always begged him to just ask you out already,” Leander added. “He was so annoying about it.”

“Please.” Garreth’s voice was quiet.  

“I think that's enough, you two.” Violet pushed the bowl of peanuts toward Amit. 

“Yes yes, sorry. But that was ages ago” Amit began. “I just thought it had been long enough that we could talk about it openly.” Amit gestured widely at the table. 

There was a beat of silence. 

“If you don’t mind, I am going to get some fresh air.” She stood, smoothing her skirt down. 

Garreth buried his face in his hands. 

“I’ll go with you,” Violet added. 

“No, no. it's okay. It’s just getting a bit stuffy in here.” She turned toward the stairs. Her steps picked up speed the farther she went. 

The night air blasted her face and she could feel the hot blush that had been crawling up to her ears. Despite it being Garreth that everyone teased, she felt just as flustered. 

She took deep breaths, allowing the cool air to fill her lungs all the way before she exhaled. 

It had been so long since she thought about how she felt back then. She and Garreth were inseparable their last few years at Hogwarts. She always suspected that he might have a thing for her, especially when he always had some kind of gift to give her. But, when he never pursued her, she let it go. She chalked it up to it just being a personality trait of his, being flirty and kind. Even if he was just that way toward her and no one else. 

She crossed her arms and moved out of the way of the door to let people pass. A pang of regret radiated through her. Maybe she should have been the one to speak up while they were in school. Maybe then she wouldn’t have had to go stag to the yule ball. Her eyes began to sting as she stared up at the starry sky.

“Can I join you out here?” Garreth’s voice came from behind her. 

She tore her eyes from the sky to where the voice came from. He had fixed his tie and put his coat back on. 

“Of course, you can join me.” She shot him a small smile. 

“I hope that wasn’t too uncomfortable…” He rubbed his hands together. “I’m sorry for… all that.” 

“No, it’s fine, Gar.” His years-old nickname felt so natural rolling off her tongue despite it not being used in quite some time. 

“I want to make sure you are okay…” 

She nodded. “Thank you. I’m okay.”

“You got out of there pretty fast.” His smile faltered. “I felt the same. I’ve never wished for an invisibility potion more in my life.” His laugh sounded strained. 

“Oh? The new potion master doesn’t have every potion on him at all times?” She quipped, finding a bench to sit on. She looked over at him thoughtfully and then pat the seat next to her. Garreth quickly obliged. 

“That’s a great idea. I'll keep a bottomless bag of all my potions from now on. You never know when you might need them.”

She smiled as she looked down, digging her toes into the gravel. “Was it true?”

Garreth was silent. 

“Was any of it true?” She pressed again. “Did you really like me all those years?” 

He didn’t answer right away. He blew warm air into his cupped hands then fished through his pockets. “Is it okay if it is?”

“Garreth.”

He sighed, slipping gloves onto his hands. “It’s true… I’m sorry if that makes you uncomfortable. I never wanted you to feel that way around me.” 

“All those years? You liked me all those years and you said nothing?” 

His head dropped. Garreth licked his lips and nodded.  “I didn’t want to lose you… you were my best friend. I-”

The alcohol she’d downed earlier began to tingle in her head. She willed the butterbeer to help her calm down. She didn’t think she could handle her heart hammering any faster than it already was. 

“I had the biggest crush on you.” She rubbed her temples. Getting everything out in the air would be best. If this went south, It’s not like she lived here and she was going to bump into him again. She would get it out of her system at least. It was only fair since his dirty laundry was already aired. 

Garreth’s face lit up. “You did?!”

“I did. And, I always wondered if you felt the same way…” She clasped her hands together. “I mean I thought you felt the same… sometimes. But then you’d pull away again and I would be left confused.” 

A smile crossed Garreth’s face. 

“Did you doodle my name in your notebook?” He teased, relaxing more in his seat.

“Shut up.” She laughed, pushing his arm. “No, I didn’t.” 

“Liar.” He smiled so wide, his whole face lit up. “Well, that's too bad then.” 

“What is?” 

“It’s too little, too late. Right?” He put his hands behind his head and stretched.

“No... No. It’s not. Is it?” 

“It’s not?”

She shook her head. 

Garreth leaned closer to her. “So, if I asked you on a date tomorrow night, you would say yes?” 

“A date?” She searched his face to see if he was being serious. 

She studied him for a moment, bathed in the yellow glow of the lantern street light. Her eyes followed the curve of his ginger lashes as they curled upward, pointing to his well-kept brows. She noticed how the freckles closest to the center of his face were slightly bigger than the ones on the outskirts.

“Would you like to go on a date with me tomorrow night?” He spoke in a low tone. Not a hint of mischief in his words.

When she realized he was being serious, she nodded affirmatively. “I would love that.” 

Garreth returned her smile as a blush rushed across his cheeks. “I am so happy right now, wow.” He laughed. 

“Where are we going on our date?”

“Hmm,” He tapped his chin. ”May I keep it as a surprise?” 

“Sure. I’m fine with it being a surprise. Just let me know what kind of outfit I need to wear. I don’t want to wear heels if you’re taking me on a hike.” 

“Deal!” He agreed. “I’ll send you an owl first thing in the morning.” 

They sat for a moment in comfortable silence, gazing at each other. 

“This feels like a dream.” He reached over for her hand. 

She reached out, palm up, and accepted the gesture. 

“I can’t believe you liked me for so long and didn’t say anything.” She teasingly shook her head in disbelief. 

“I know. I was so stupid.” Garreth laughed. “I mean, if I knew what I know now, I would have asked you out ages ago. But…”

Her brows perked up as he fell silent. “But, what?” 

“I’m kind of glad we didn’t get together in school.” He rubbed his gloved fingers over the back of her hand.

“Why’s that?” 

“Because statistically speaking… we might not have still been together.”

“I see.” She leaned in closer to him, watching him trace the lines of her hand. The buzz from the beer had spread throughout her body. She felt warm under her winter coat.

Patrons continued to walk into the three broomsticks despite how late it was getting. 

“This place is pretty lively nowadays, huh?” She wondered out loud. 

“It really is. I think the population in the area has gone up a lot since we were in school. A lot more houses have been built.” Garreth bit his lip and dropped his gaze. Another group walked past them, laughing as they entered the building. “Would you like to go back inside with me?” Garreth asked. “Despite what happened at the end there, I was really enjoying catching up with everyone.” 

“Me too.” She nodded. “Yeah, I’ll go back in with you.” 

“Awesome! We will just make sure Amit and Leander are cut off for the rest of the night.” Garreth stood and offered her his arm. 

She laughed with him, linking her arm with his. “Deal.” 

—-------

A|N: I saw lil-grem-draws post about Professor Garreth and was obsessed with the concept!

Also, HI I'm AshWren! This is my first fic in almost 4 years. I forgot how much fun it is to write!

Thank you for reading!

Read Ch 2 here.

[thatbanditqueen]

I Was The Best Husband

An Elvis Presley One-Shot

A response to the writing prompt "‘are you always this shy?"

Many thanks to my lovely compatriots @whositmcwhatsit @be-my-ally @vintageshanny @ellie-24 @missmaywemeetagain @from-memphis-with-love @powerofelvis for talking me off the ledge every time and holding my hand and reminding me why I love Elvis and how fun this can be.

Summary: It is March 1972, a month after Priscilla officially told Elvis about her affair with Mike Stone and her decision to leave him and request a divorce. He is in LA, getting ready to go back on tour and his entourage have invited some women over to help cheer him up.

Warnings: Some mild soft core make-out stuff. I think my smut generator is broken. Please send help. Oh, I wrote this today and there are a lot of typos. And some of it or all of it may not make sense. I'd honestly skip it.

Word Count: 4.2K

I Was the Best Husband

Friday, March 31, 1972, 8:30 p.m.

La Fortuna Apartment Complex

Just off Pico Blvd in West Los Angeles, CA

Her first response had been a firm no when Caroline stuck her head around Maureen’s bedroom door and asked if she wanted to come to a party in the hills at Elvis Presley’s house.

“Please, please PLEASE, Mo, I need you there to make sure I don’t drink too much or do anything stupid. 'Sides, Joe told me to bring some friends.”

“Who’s Joe?”

Caroline walked into Maureen’s room and sat on her vanity stool, wiping the corners of her mouth.

“I met him at the Whiskey last summer, when I was in the cage. He’s works for Elvis, took me out to Palm Springs for Labor Day, ‘member?” Carolyn's long, golden hair glistened in the bedroom lamp light.

“Right, how many girls were there? Twenty? Didn’t you say the trip was a bust?”

“I go to sit on Elvis’ lap for a whole gospel song, and then he asked me and another girl to make out in front of him. That’s a story I’ll be telling my grandchildren one day. Don’t you want to be able to do that?”

Maureen shook her head. “Hmmm, I think I’d probably leave out the second part. I don’t know, Cari, I -”

“Ah ha! You’re thinking about it. Get dressed, we gotta pick up Teresa. You don’t want to miss your opportunity to meet Elvis!”

“Right, maybe if I’m lucky I’ll get to watch the two of you make out on his lap. I don’t know why you need me to come if Teresa is, she makes since, you' 're both waitresses at Bootlegger’s. I’m not sure this Joe was thinking of me when he told you to bring some friends.”

Maureen looked down, smoothing her tee over her small bust while Caroline jumped up and spritzed Maureen’s perfume over her wrists.

“You’re cute, you’re funny, and you have a car, so shake a tail feather and let’s go.”

**************************

Carolyn turned up the radio and “Maggie May” resounded through the car as Maureen guided her Volkswagen bug up the steep incline into the Hollywood Hills. The road twisted and got narrower as they went along and she had to lean forward to feel steady shifting the gears.

Maureen found herself staring at Teresa’s beautiful brown skin as it gleaming in the streetlights while they walked up to the front of the large, white Tudor-style house. Maureen felt like an ugly duckling about to wander into lake full of swans, and hastened her gait, jogging up to link her arm between the other two taller, dazzling women as she balanced herself on her wooden clogs.

Knocking a few times, the door was finally opened by a tall white guy whose name was either Dick, Rick or Nick, and the women made their way into the foyer and down the split level steps towards an large open living room where guests were milling around talking, dancing, drinking. 

Carolyn leaned into whisper, “Joe says they’re trying to cheer Elvis up, his wife just asked for a divorce and moved out.”

Maureen only had a moment to reflect on this when Carolyn’s wrist was grabbed by a stout, short balding guy wearing black sunglasses inside at 10 p.m. at night. This, apparently, was Joe. He reminded Maureen of a a think, fat ground hog with no neck and a big, friendly expression that hid rows of sharp teeth. Joe smiled as he kissed Carolyn’s cheeks and checked out Teresa, then nodded politely at Maureen, as he took Carolyn in hand and led them to go meet “the boss.”

They could hear Elvis’ voice echoing through the air before they saw him as they walked out to the pool patio.

“Man, I don’t know how she could do this to me, I was the best husband a woman could ask for. Ain't no one in my family ever been divorced, 'cept my mean-ass, desertin' no good sonofabitch grandaddy. Unnatural for a woman to wanna break up a family like that. After everything I gave her, too. Provided everything a woman could ask for. And what thanks do I get? She steals my baby away and breaks up our fucking family .”

Elvis stood there at the side of the pool, his arms around two beautiful women as he spoke to a short young white guy, maybe in his late twenties or early thirties, with long greasy dark hair and bushy eyebrows. Elvis paused his diatribe to kiss one of the woman’s cheeks and ask what her name was again, before his eyes met Joe’s and he made a half grin.

“Hey, EP, you remember Cari from Palm Springs, huh?”

Elvis let go of the women he was with and drew Carolyn into his side,  kissing her cheek and saying of course he remembered her. He hummed a few bars of a gospel song, which made Carolyn giggle, and then asked her to introduce him to her friends as he took Teresa and then Maureen’s hands, kissing them one at a time. Maureen shivered when Elvis took her hand, his eyes narrowed as his mouth turned upward into a crooked grin and he winked at her. She forgot how to talk as his nose grazed the top of her hand and he squeezed it to his mouth for light, warm kiss.

“This here is Arty Shiskee, he’s workin’ on this picture we’re makin’ with MGM, been filming our tour rehearsals all day.”

The short, dark haired man smiled anxiously, and uncrossed his arms to shake their hands. Carolyn leaned into Elvis, and Joe took Maureen by the waist to “show you around, maybe get you a drink, babe?”

Maureen felt as Joe was moving her out to pasture with the other guests not selected for Elvis’ harem, so she tilting her head toward the bar inside and said thanks.

Waiting for three white wine spritzers, Maureen turned to see Arty.

“Hey, Art, is it?”

“Actually, it’s Marty. I don’t have the guts to correct him, he’s Elvis, ya know? I guess I’m a coward. Also, how can I give the guy a hard time? He’s wife just left him.”

“Yeah, he seems real broken up about, huh? How will he ever find another companion?”

Marty chuckled, and pulled his hair behind his ear as Maureen carried on, she always talked more when she felt nervous.

“I guess it’s good he feels comfortable talking about it.”

“Um, yeah, ‘comfortable,’ that’s one way to put it.”

Before Maureen could ask him what he meant, her drinks were ready, and she enlisted Marty’s help carrying them back to the others. This was not easy, Elvis and the girls had disappeared from the patio, and Marty diligently followed Maureen through the mansion until they spotted the back of his shag hairdo on a couch in a large den. Maureen handed her friends their drinks and settled onto the floor, leaning back against the side of a brown velour couch and resting her shoes on the fur rug that extended out from the coffee table. Carolyn seemed at home sitting atop Elvis’ lap, buffeted by two other women sitting on either side all listening attentively as Elvis spoke.

“I am telling ya what, man, I gave her everything a wife could ask for, she wanted a horse, I got her a horse. She wanted ranch we drove by in Mississippi,  by god, I got her the damn ranch. And I bought everyone a truck for the ranch. She wanted a bigger house in Los Angle -lesss, why, I bought this huge goddamn house. Gave her unlimited budget to decorate this place to her heart’s desire. New car every time she blinked. Jewelry boxes filled with diamonds. A closet full of new designer clothes.”

Elvis rubbed Carolyns waist and extended his other arm around the redhead next to him, looking at one, then the other, as he asked. “Now, wouldn’t you like that, honey? Would that have made you happy?”

“Uh huh, daddy. That wouldda made me the happiest.”

Elvis kissed Carolyn’s cheek as she said this. “Right? Thank ya, baby. That’s cuz you’re sweet, normal, nice girl, ain’t got anti-freeze running through your veins.”

He kissed the redhead’s cheek too, and then her lips as she turned toward him and put her hands around his neck.

“I would have been so happy, Elvis, I wouldda let you know, twenty five hours a day, eight days a week.”

The loud smacks of their sloppy kisses echoed through the room, and Maureen suddenly felt very self conscious, as if she was watching something she ought not to. She didn’t go to these Hollywood people parties very often, although perhaps it wasn’t soo weird, she reasoned, for a handsome, wealthy, star like Elvis to make out with good looking women in his own house.

Surrounded by other good looking people.

Who were mostly 20-something females.

Maureen looked around and clocked at least another ten girls just in their area alone, with only three other men hanging out among the guests. Two after Marty waved a small goodbye and slipped out through the side door onto the patio.

Maureen returned her gaze to Elvis, who had paused his kisses with the sympathetic redhead in order to continue talking. Every few moments, Maureen thought she caught Elvis glance at her out of the corner of his eye, but she told herself it was nothing.

“Ya see, honey, now, that’s what I told her, I said any other woman would fuckin’ kill to be where you are, to have what you have, to have a husband like me. Uh huh, but not my wife. Nah, that bitch has a heart of stone. What thanks do I get for everything I’ve done? Come home to find all that swag I bought, gone, man, gone.”

He snapped his fingers. “She packed it all up, gave up on a ten year relationship, over ten years, and and left me for another man.” Elvis shook his head, his squeezing Carolyn’s knee.

A smile came over Elvis’ face as he looked from Carolyn to the redhead, and Maureen thought maybe he was going to try and get the two  to make out. Instead, he asked them, “Hey, want to see something out of sight?”

As they nodded, he jumped up, and looked around, his eyes settling on Maureen as reached out his hand to draw her up from the floor.

“Check this out honey, Imma show you how a real man protects his family. ’Git up here, woman, I need ya.”  Maureen stumbled up as Elvis pulled her to the middle of the room and positioned her arms out. “Alright, baby, now stand still and Do. Not. Move. Do you trust me?”

Maureen nodded hesitantly, her eyes wide with what could probably be best described as the opposite of trust. Elvis face lit up, and then he took a deep breath, his hands together in prayer as he centered them in front of his face and down to his chest. Then he proceeded to thrust his leg up, extending the knee forward in a swift karate kick out at her side.

Maureen froze in terror as Elvis grunted loudly and proceeded to demonstrate a rash of karate chops on either side of her face, followed by a few more high thrusting kicks, his black hair flounced in the air from his movements and “hiyas!” echoing around the room.  He chuckled as he caught his breath, rubbing her shoulder.

“Whoa, hey there, you can breath darlin, it’s ok. I’m a black belt.”

He turned to the little crowd that had formed around the room as they clapped and he took a bow.

 “See y’all? That’s how karate can be, if ya know what ya doin’ like I do. I can control my movements precisely and protect my family. I could kill a man with my bare hands if I wanted to.”

Then his face erupted into a grin as Maureen chuckled nervously.

 “Course, I wouldn’t. A true master only uses deadly force as a last resort. Against those who mean him or his family harm.” Elvis growled, and Maureen quickly ducked under his arm, about to sit, or flee, an option she was seriously considering until she felt his grip on her wrist.

“You did great, darlin, I could tell you liked it, saw it in your eyes. Watch out, once it gets you, there's no going back,’” he murmured, and kissed her on her lips, his hands on the sides if her face. Then he held out her hand for her to take a bow before he released her.

“Didn’t she seem fearless? Give it up for Colleen, everyone, bravest little gal in here. Probably the craziest too. Could see it in her eyes.”

He winked as Maureen joined people standing at the edge of the room, before sneaking off to use the bathroom and grateful she hadn’t peed her pants during Elvis’ karate demonstration. It had been terrifying, exhilarating, and mesmerizing. The violence and intensity of Elvis might even have turned her on a bit, but this sensation was almost certainly overwhelmed by the mortal fear that he was going to kill or seriously injure her.

***************************

It was past one when Maureen made a concerted effort to find her friends and persuade them to go home. She had been enjoying the free drinks and picking at some fried chicken as she made small talk with  other guests, avoiding the areas where she heard the loud refrain of the best husband in all of Memphis, Hollywood and the goddamn world. But now she would have to face him, and found Elvis in the living room where she made her way to the corner and scanned the area for Carolyn and Teresa. She was distracted by Elvis' direct glances at her every few minutes. Realizing her friends weren’t with him or in the room, Maureen turned to leave but was stopped by Joe's hand on her shoulder.

"Hey, boss man wants you to come join us," his arm snaked around her as he led her over to the few people still hanging out.

“Hey there, it’s my karate partner. Where’s the fire, honey? Come on,  take a load off.”

Maureen’s eyes widened but she found herself stuttering and unable to talk in the glow of Elvis full attention.

“I’m, uh, I’m sorry, I have to find my friends, Carolyn and Teresa, I think they may have actually been on your lap, at one point.”

Elvis’ lips curled up, and he bit his bottom one as he muttered. “Oh yes, Careful Carolyn, mmhmmm, yeah, I think she and that purty Black girl went home with Jerry, huh Joe?"

The ground hog nodded.

Elvis winked, and then his eyebrows creased as he saw Maureen’s face fall. “Oh it’s ok, baby,  did your friends leave you behind? It’s ok, I, uh, I think they was lookin’ for ya, actually, yeah, they said to tell you not ta worry.”

Elvis squeezed her hand and nodded to the others as he turned and guided Maureen away from the living through a hall.

“C’mon, I know something that will make ya feel better. It’s my cure all for when life gets me down.”

Elvis’ hand slipped around Maureen’s waist, and she let her head dip into his side, more from exhaustion than anything else. The feeling of Elvis tall, sturdy body as he held her to him and kissed the top of her head was comforting, she made the decision not to think about how he seemed to be instantly intimate with every woman he met. She definitely decided not to question whether this quality had been appreciated by his soon-to-be ex-wife.

Elvis pushed them into a large country style kitchen, with a wide, wooden island in the middle. Loosening his grip, Elvis went to the fridge while Maureen determined she would be more comfortable sitting down and settled on the nearest and therefore most logical option: the island’s yellow tiled counter. This is where she sat swinging her legs as Elvis returned with a gallon of vanilla ice cream and a bottle of chocolate syrup.

“Well, now, ya hardly said a word all night, sweetheart, are you always this shy?”

“Um, only with people I don’t know.” Maureen murmured, looking down and pulling the strap of her black jersey dress back up from her shoulder.

“You sayin’ you don’t know me?”

Maureen looked up into Elvis’s eyes, and her heart fluttered as he stepped closer. Now his long arms pushed over her lap to settled alongside her body on the counter as he moved between her legs. She wasn’t wearing a bra, and felt the movements of his chest acutely against her nipples as he leaned closer and hovered in front of her. Exhaling through her nose, she tried not to gasp as she tapped out her fingers nervously and looked down. A lone, nervous giggle escaped her mouth.

“Um, not really. Not who you really are.” Maureen whispered to her lap, which now included Elvis’ hands, rubbing her waist.

He lifted her chin, speaking softly as he looked into her eyes. “S’ok baby, I don’t bite. Much.”

Then Elvis chomped his teeth together loudly into Maureen's face and she jerked back with a giggling gasp.

Elvis laughed, straightening his yellow tinted sunglasses. “Well, I’m Elvis, Elvis Presley. Nice ta meet ya, Colleen.”

“Maureen. It’s Maureen, though my friends all call me Mo.”

Elvis’ finger’s trailed up the side of Maureen’s outer thigh, and she swallowed as he widened her legs around him.

“Alright then, see, I didn’t really know who you were.”  He murmured into her cheek. “Nice ta meet ya, Mo.”

Elvis seemed to recognize the effect he had on her, as her breath hitched in her throat and she found her self incapable of talking. He stepped back with a chuckle, and dragged the ice cream over the counter next to Maureen’s hip, pulling off the container top and flipping the chocolate syrup lid with his teeth and a dramatic exaggerated “humpf."

Maureen and guffawed watching Elvis poured the chocolate sauce directly into the ice cream container.

"What are you doing? No one else'll be able to eat that."

“Honey, do you see anyone else here? S’my house, now, dammit, and I’ll do what I want. Ain’t got no wife to nag at me. If I wanna eating ice cream outta the box, then I'll get it out of the box." He said, slurping a messy spoonful into his open mouth.

Elvis brought a second helping to Maureen’s lips. “Now, open wide, like a good lil gal.” He chuckled as she let him push the spoon into her mouth slowly, moaning in delight as she swallowed the sweet, cold, sugary goodness.

“MMhmmm. See, now, do I know how to make women happy or what? You wouldn’t have left me, would ya, Mo Mo?”

“No, but I'm pretty easy to win over. I'd forgive almost anything if a man feeds me ice cream.”

Maureen winked at him and wiped her mouth just in time for another spoon of chocolate swirled ice cream, which Elvis followed with a soft, grateful kiss. He threw the spoon down and leaned into her, his hands moving up her body until they were cupping the back of her head and his lips settled again over hers.

Slow, soft, tender movements turned needier as they rocked back and forth. Maureen’s hands stroked the top of Elvis' shoulders, pulling him in by the lapel as she opened her mouth to meet his tongue. Her wooden platforms hit against each other as she notched her legs around Elvis, gripping him to her, as close as as she could bring him. Elvis stepped back, panting as he wiped his mouth, his lips contorted in a dopey grin.

She could hear the front door slam as people left the party, but they weren't going back to that way when he drew her off the counter and left the ice cream melting where it sat. She could see it in his eyes, a hungry wolfish glare, and his arm pulled her the other way, away from the people, the music, and the main part of the house.

“C’mon, baby, let me give you the VIP tour.” Elvis announced as they walked through the other side of the kitchen to a narrow stair case.

“These are some stupid, expensive-ass refurbished stairs.”

He bounced into the second floor, and turned to draw Maureen into him once more, his hand at the back of her neck and her body thrummed with need as his fingers played with the scruff of her hair. Then he was pressing her to the wall, pressing all her thoughts and misgivings away with his lips, while his hands blindly felt their way over her hips.

Minutes passed by measured by the metronome of air popping softly between their lips. Elvis fingers began to migrate lower, tugging at the hem of her dress. He smiled at the arousal in Maureen’s wide, brown eyes, leading her through a door at the end of the hall.

“Oh loook, huh, I think,” he paused as he walked to turn on one solitary lamp on top of a dresser on. “I think we found, the, uh, bedroom.” He looked down, almost shy, as he grinned.

Maureen swished from side to side playfully, anxiously, hesitantly in place where she stood across the room from him. Suddenly self-conscious, her desire faltered as she thought about where she was and who she was with, and became profoundly insecure about her sexual prowess.

“MMhmmmm. There is a bed.” She murmured, her arm up behind her neck, twisting her long, brown hair aside. “And, it is a room. So I guess it fits the definition.” 

Elvis eyes narrowed in recognition as he strode back to her and took her hand, his lips kissing the top lightly and his nose nuzzling into Maureen’s knuckles. “Hey baby, we don’t gotta do nothin’, ok? You’re the boss.”

Maureen felt a blistering heat grow between her legs, and she let out a breathy exhale as Elvis moved his lips up her arm, kissing his way to the nape of her neck.

“We aint’t gotta do nothin’ you don't wanna do, nothin' at all, ok honey? Don’t shake, sshhhh, s’ok.”

Maureen put her hands around Elvis’ neck, willing away her trembling nerves as the knot in her belly propelled her to be as close to him as possible. She felt ashamed of how much she wanted to do the opposite of nothing, right now, all at once as soon as possible.

“I, um, I’m not one for, I mean, I don’t usually do one night stands.”

He took her hand, and led her over to the bed and pulling her onto his lap. “There, we don’t have ta stand at all.”

Maureen exhaled with a chuckle as Elvis rubbed his hand up and down her thigh slowly, suddenly sheepish and uncertain. He let out a hesitant exhale. For some inexplicable reason, Elvis’ sudden nervousness made Maureen relax a little, and she lifted her fingers to caress his cheek before stranding to take off her dress.

He stopped her, and lifted her right foot to his lap, and then her left, chuckling at her cries as he throw her shoes across the room. Then he pulled her up in front of him, instructing her to lift her dress slowly. Very slowly.

Maureen’s breath escaped her nose in long gasps as she lifted her black dress, drawing it over her head, inch by inch, encouraged by the short gasps Elvis' throat made as his eyes locked into hers. He groaned loudly and bit his lip when she revealed the light, yellow flowered panties with a little yellow bow at the middle. Lifting her dress like a curtain, revealing her belly inch-by-inch, then her breasts, then her nipples, the feel of the fabric brushing over her skin was titillating. Naked, except for her panties, she moved her arms over her tummy and did an awkward little wiggle as she hurriedly sought out the warm of Elvis’ embrace.

His movements were slow and purposeful, trailing his over her as he removed her arms from her tummy and just soaked in the sight of her body, biting his lip and breathing. He met her eyes, and gather her body on top of his, planting kisses along her clavicle, each breath made Maureen’s pulse quicken and she ran her hands through Elvis’ soft hair. He laid her back on to the bed, on his knees between her legs as he slid her underwear off, watching as he revealed her wooly, warm labia, sucking in air as he shook his head with reverence and whispered a low goddamn, goddamn.

Maureen let out a breathy chuckle. “What? What is it?”

“Just beautiful, honey, I just like looking at it.”

“I’m, uh. I think I’ve probably done this less than you.” She let out another nervous chuckle, every cell in her body was telling her to shut up but when Maureen got nervous, she started talking more. “I don’t know how I’ll compare to Vegas showgirls or or even —”

Elvis put his finger her to her lips, then he calmly stood up and kicked off his shoes, hanging up his sports coat and printed dress shirt over a chair.

“S’ok, honey, don’t get all up in your head like that. Shhh, just remember to breath and  uh, follow my lead.”

Elvis returned to hoover above Maureen and kissed her gently. He winked, and Maureen felt him tremble as he moved to unzipped his pants.

“I really was the best husband, ya know? I never expected anything from my wife. Ever. Knew it was my job to provide. And, uh, when it cimes to making love." He blushed. " I, uh, know, well, that its the man’s job to make it good. You’ll see.”

[ginsengkitten]

༺Beautiful Dangerous༻

a slashxreader fanfiction

༺☆༻

Chapter Eight

Gods & Monsters

A/N: This chapter contains smut and upsetting drug related themes. This chapter particularly insinuates one Steven Adler in a negative light. I adore Steven but couldn’t have the main love interest be the sole proprietor of the main characters drug habit. Thus I utilized Steven. Just wanted to clarify.

After that night, you and Slash were inseparable. The next month. the routine followed sneaking out after everyone fell asleep and then hitching rides from Dave to go meet up with slash. The two of you would peruse the streets with the band or run off together and terrorize the city. On occasion, slash would borrow a friends car and you would drive to the beach and sit around one of the dingy barrel fires and share stories of your lives til dawn. An intimate intertwining of your two very different upbringings. Swapping past loves and losses. Many more kisses and touches exchanged. The two of you would find the sneakiest and not so sneaky spots to get a risky quickie in. Stifling moans and giggles behind concert bathroom stalls, a spare room at a party. Slash was thrilled to find someone with the same sex drive as his. He was admittedly a fiend for the right girl, but especially you.

Occasionally, driving up to the abandoned house up the canyon off Laurel and taking refuge together in the concrete ruins as you watched the sunset and sunrise hues bleed over the city below. The band would play a gig, and you would be front and center, and Slash never played without staring you down the entire show. Giving you cheeky smirks and showing off. He had this confident arrogance about him when he played. He was good and he knew it. The whole band was, and you couldn't get enough.

Over the course of this time, you also got to witness the fiery evolution that was the Guns n Roses career. During the day when you weren’t with Slash, he was in and out of label meetings with the manager and other aristocratic rock n roll slum lords.

In the past two week in particular, you noticed a swift upbeat in the tune of not only Slash but the whole band collectively. You knew things were on the up and up with the label and record deal so you figured it made sense, however intensely excited they all were all the time. They always had energy for a party. The best days of your life were now passing in rapid motion and though your heart begged to continue, your body was often clamoring to keep up with the pace. You could feel the opportunities for memories slip through your fingers and it scared you. How did they do it? The possibility of missing out on anything made you anxious with desperation.

One night was especially difficult. The band had all shared their typical bottles of liquor which you were becoming  accustomed to. However, between the booze, coffee and joints, you still found yourself once again falling behind in the activities of the evening. This weekend particularly was important as the guys were taking a short road trip upstate to play a show. With the beefed up excuse of going to a charity retreat, you were set to ride along with the guys all weekend without fuss. Sitting on slashes lap for a bumpy 2 hour drive spelled for little haste when the two of you got alone again once the venue was reached. With some time surprisingly to spare before the show, the car had pulled up and the two of you practically launched out of the car into the dressing room.

The sex had become more and more depraved and frantic. Slashes sexual energy was easy to match for you. Finally meeting his match, he still couldn't take his hands off of you. Sliding his fingers up your thighs or blatantly grabbing your ass at any given chance, slash satisfied his intense hungers on your body every chance he got. And every chance you got, you took to entice him further with teases and touches slight of hand.

Barely slamming the door behind you before propping you up on the dressing room counter, slash lines his way up in front of you as you wrapped your legs around his waist. As his hands did their now familiar dance over your body, caressing and gripping every curve on the way down to your ass were he would hike up your skirt for easy access. You leaned back as he slid in. He blew out a plume of smoke as he casually puffed a cigarette in between thrusts and grunts. All the while giving you his signature devilish smirk as he broke his way through you in wet tight motions. He guided you as you threw your shirt up over your head and off to the floor. Still grinding into you, he took his cigarette and placed it in your mouth, as he looked down at your naked chest, and greedily began sucking and kissing your breasts. You let out gasps of pleasure. His favorite. He’d do anything just to entice a moan out of you. “Yes Foxey girl you love when I do that huh” he cooed out as he pressed his wet lips across your breast, giving a sensual and almost too painful bite of your nipple. You yelp out in pain and he smiles against your skin. “Sorry doll, you’re just so good. I want to eat you up.” He chuckles a false apology, still encompassing his palms full of your curvatures.

-

After 2 rounds of quickies before and after the show, a plethora of liquor and cigarettes, you began to feel that familiar lull of dwindling excitement and sleepiness crawl through you. The group was still early into the night and you were already checking out. You began considering the idea of putting down a quick line. Contact with Joel had fizzled out quickly over the prior incidents with you. With the primary coke dealer cut off from the group, coke was in low supply.

“You checked out already Foxey?” Steven notices from across the room as you laid your head back on the couch in exhaust. Slash turns to look at you himself and notices this as well. “Only a little..” You admit. Steven looks over to Slash and gives him an interesting look. “I dunno man..I mean I might I don’t know if she can handle that..” slash muttered to him with apprehension. “I can handle it!l you protest, sitting up quickly. “Handle what? I can handle whatever. What is it? Coke?” You investigate. Slash glares at Steven as Steven perks up at your interest. “No Foxey it’s just stevens smack. Which is interesting as he never seems to share…” slash half seriously jabs at him, still glaring him down. Steven holds his hands up in arrest. “Hey man I’m just trying to be gracious here. “ he defends. “Hey don’t do that. Don’t hold out on me just because you think I’m weak or some shit.” You get defensive. Slash looks at your look of desperation. He grinds on the silence thick in the air as if contemplating something. “I don’t need permission you know.” You remind slash. Slash gives you an annoyed look but gives up at not to offend. “Just don’t go fucking crazy dude. And I get first hit.” He wagers with Steven and Steven abides. You follow Steven and Slash into a bathroom, where Steven whips out a syringe and pulls up his sleeve to reveal multiple stab scars. “Oh shit-“ You blurt out. “Not coke.” Slash affirms to you begrudgingly. You nod slowly and can hardly bear to witness. That is until you witness the almost immediate euphoria that lights up both Steven and Slash. This is the key to their energy. This is what the band has been riding on for their pursuits. You see how blissful and energetic it makes them and decide right away that this was what needed to happen for you to feel awake again. ‘Just like a cup of coffee’ you preach to yourself to ease the idea of shooting up.

Almost instantly you feel a wall of pure elation. You can’t help but smile at your newfound energy and joy. This was like sex and rock n roll got put in a blender and injected straight into your soul.

Pure. Happiness.

[quil12]

Souyo + coming out? If you're still taking requests

So, you're saying that it's been 7 months... Yep... Sounds about right. I did write it though! So there is good news now!

"Yu, I don't know about this," Yosuke said from where he was sitting on their bed. 

"You were the one who was all gung-ho about it yesterday."

He leaned back, sighing. "I know, but that was yesterday."

Yu came over, sitting down next to him, placing a hand on his leg. "We don't have to if you don't want to."

"We don't have to, but we probably should, right?"

"They're all people who care about us."

He nodded, sitting back up. "Yeah, it's just kinda terrifying."

"I know it is. Are you almost ready to go?"

"Yeah, let's do this."

The both of them stood up from the bed, heading to the door of the apartment. They were about to drive down to Inaba to go see their friends and family. It was summer break so they had time off of university classes. 

They had been talking about it a lot in the past month or so and had come to an agreement. 

They were going to tell everyone that they were dating. 

The mere thought of that terrified him to no end. A large part of him wanted to keep this as a secret for the rest of his life, but, at the same time, he knew that that wasn't what Yu wanted. He wanted the people close to them to know that they were together. He understood that to some extent, but that didn't mean that he wasn't still terrified. 

The two of them made it out to the car, getting in. They could have easily taken the train, but they were staying there for a week, so it would be nice to be able to have a way to get around the countryside if they wanted. 

Yosuke insisted on driving - it calmed him down to be able to focus on doing that - and then they were on their way. 

It was only about a two hour drive, but it was nice the entire time. He really loved just spending time with Yu, talking to him about whatever crossed his mind. It would be fun to go on a road trip with him at some point. Maybe to go a lot further than Inaba. 

Before long, they got to the small town. He really loved living in the city, but he had also missed Inaba. There were so many memories associated with it - some bad, but the majority good. He didn't think that he'd want to move back there anytime soon, but he was glad to have the opportunity to visit. 

The first place they went to was the Dojima residence. He was just going to drop Yu off there, then head to his parent's house. That was another reason why it would be nice to have everyone know they were a couple. It would be weird if they were to stay in the same room as just friends, especially when they both had a place to stay in town. 

He pulled up in front of the house. "All right. I'll see you in a bit then?"

Yu nodded, reaching over, and taking hold of his hand, squeezing it. "And if you decide that you don't want to do it, we don't have to."

He took a deep breath. "Right."

"Just let me know, okay?"

"Yeah."

He gave him a small smile. "Text me when you start heading over."

"Okay, I will."

With that, Yu got out of the car, grabbing his things, before heading to the door. He waited until he got inside before heading toward his parent's house. 

They were having a get-together with everyone at the Dojima Residence that evening, but he wanted to go drop off his things and get settled first. He was also going to be bringing Teddie with him and he was genuinely looking forward to seeing him. 

He quickly reached the house - it wasn't that far - and pulled into the driveway. 

As soon as he parked, the front door swung open, and Teddie came barreling out toward him.

"Yosuke!" His voice was muffled through the car.

He unbuckled his seat belt, then opened the door, quickly stepping out. "Hey, Ted."

Immediately, he crashed into him, wrapping his arms tightly around him.

He couldn't help the smile that tugged at his lips as he hugged him back.

"You were gone for so long. I thought I was never gonna see you again."

"It's been like two months."

"That's basically an eternity."

"Whatever you say." He pushed on his shoulder. "C'mon. I wanna go put my stuff inside and then we can go to see Yu."

Teddie immediately pulled away, a glint in his eye as he went to open the car door, pulling out his bag. "Hurry up. I want to go see Sensei."

Yosuke went and grabbed the rest of his things and they went inside, greeting his parents. Right. He was going to have to tell them too. That wasn't going to be fun. He was going to save it until Yu was there with him though. 

He followed Teddie up to his old room - it was really Teddie's room now. He had told him to do what he wanted with it once he left for college. 

He set everything down and then Teddie was pulling on his arm, telling him that they needed to get going. 

He put up a small bit of resistance - going there meant everything was all the closer - but eventually let in, texting Yu that they were coming, then starting the walk over. 

It wasn't that long of a walk and Teddie was chatting to him the entire time, telling him about everything that had happened over the past few months. Despite everything, he really had missed him. 

It wasn't long before they were walking up to the Dojima Residence, knocking on the door. 

After a few seconds, it opened, Yu standing there, immediately getting leaped on by Teddie. 

"Sensei! You're here."

"Hey, Teddie."

"It's no fair that Yosuke gets to see you all the time."

Yu let out a small laugh. "Well, maybe you can come and visit us sometime."

Yosuke groaned. Why had he offered that? Now that the idea was in his head, he might decide to just come and show up unannounced like he had done on the school trip.

"What? You don't want him to come?"

Teddie let out an over dramatic gasp. "Yosuke?"

"You can come, you just have to let us know beforehand."

Teddie hummed. "All right."

With that, they headed inside. No one else was there yet except for Nanako and Dojima. They exchanged greetings before going over and sitting around the low table in the living room. 

There was a lot of talking as everyone got caught up with everyone else. Nanako, in particular, seemed excited to tell them all about everything she was doing.

Before long though, everyone else started filtering in until the room was full of their friends.

Now that everyone was here in the room, his stomach was turning. What was going to happen if they found out? Would they hate them? He hoped not, but part of him never wanted to actually find out. 

He was lost in those thoughts when, all of a sudden, Chie touched his shoulder, her brow furrowed in concern. “Hey, Yosuke? Are you okay?”

He blinked. “What? I’m fine. Never better.”

She frowned. “O-kay. You just seemed distracted.”

“Oh, uh, I guess I’m just tired.”

She didn’t seem fully convinced, but luckily, she didn’t push him on it. 

He took a deep breath.

Yu caught his attention from across the room. He was giving him a questioning look, his head slightly tilted to the side.

He bit his lip. He really didn’t know if he wanted to do this or not. The anxiety was churning in his stomach, a sense of dread hanging over him. 

Yu stood. “Yosuke, can I talk to you?”

He took a sharp breath, standing as well. “Oh, yeah.”

Luckily, no one seemed too concerned as he followed him up the stairs and into his old room. It was slightly better in there. In the relative privacy where the thoughts of coming out to everyone seemed further away.

“Are you okay?” Yu asked, laying his hand on his cheek.

He looked down at the ground. “I just… I don’t know if I can do this.”

Yu gently ran his thumb beneath his cheekbone. “We don’t have to. I don’t want to do it if you’re not comfortable.”

He frowned, biting his lip. “But you want this, right? You want everyone to know.”

Yu hesitated. “I do, but-”

Yosuke turned away from him, taking a deep breath. Yu wanted this. He deserved to have it. He deserved to have something that he wanted. 

He opened the door, stepping out into the hallway.

“Yosuke? What are you doing?” Yu called from his room.

He was right behind him as he walked down the stairs, stopping in the entrance to the living room.

He opened his mouth before he could think about it. “Yu and I are dating.”

The once upbeat din of conversation pittered out, everyone turning to look at him. 

His face was on fire. “Just wanted to tell everyone.”

Nanako was the first one to speak, a look of excitement on her face. “Does that mean that you’re going to get married?”

“That’s not fair!” Teddie said. “I wanna marry Sensei.”

Yu took a step forward, laying a comforting hand on his shoulder. “No one’s getting married, but, like Yosuke said, we are dating. You’re all people that we care about so we decided that we wanted to let everyone know.”

“Congratulations, Senpai!” Rise said from her spot on the couch, a wide smile on her face.

There was a similar sentiment from everyone around the room. 

Everyone was being so supportive. Even though he had been kind of expecting it, relief swept through his body.

He didn’t even realize he had started crying until a teardrop dripped down off of his cheek.

He immediately brought his hand up, wiping at his eyes with his sleeve.

Teddie let out a concerned sounding noise. “Yosuke, why are you crying?”

He took a deep breath. “I’m not crying, stupid bear.”

Yu wrapped an arm around his shoulders, leading him over to the couch. 

As they were sitting down, Chie let out a wolf whistle, smiling.

His face felt hot. “Hey!”

She laughed.

The rest of the day passed by much the same. Talking and laughing without any fear and uncertainty hanging over them. 

He still had to tell his parents, but somehow, now, that idea didn’t seem so bad.

[hollywoodsargeant]

Pretty random question, but what are your favourite things about Logan? Like some cute facts/things about him that you like and feel like people should know

I think a lot of people judge him too quickly, he deserves more love and appreciation :((

this is an excellent question anon... clearly i have a lot of things i like about logan. i really like logan. in case if this blog was not enough. BUT. i will yell about a few random things since you asked (+ i agree people are very quick to judge him. give my boy a chance. i cannot tell you how many times i've seen people say stuff like "i wrote him off at first but he actually seems sweet" STOP WRITING HIM OFF THEN!) anyways. Favorite Things

there's a lot of insanity going on here i love logan so much did you know

first and foremost. i love how much he loves his friends... and just how outwardly he loves in general... the "heart on his sleeve" thing does come from somewhere. given really any opportunity he Will talk about his friends and his family and every time it Kills me like :( whenever someone mentions how long he's been racing oscar he talks about it and there's one where it's mentioned he was teammates with oscar back in f4 and he's like "well actually before that too!" idk. surely you know how i feel about logan and oscar but logan has emphasized their friendship more than once and always stresses how they've gotten along so well forever and even being title rivals in f3 never came between them... my little loscar heart...

and still on that. him and kyle. i love kyle kirkwood (indycar driver + friend of logan) if you were not aware and he does the same thing where someone will bring him up and he's like "yeah kyle's my boy!" it makes me so...... put him in his indy 500 top 3 prediction bc he's his buddy and knows he's good was asked Just about key lime pie and had to say "well my friend kyle makes a really good key lime pie" even after he just said he never really eats pie? idk man. he just loves his friends <3

AND HE LOVES WHERE HE'S FROMMM like yes a bit in a patriotic american way and maybe i only like that because i'm american but he is such a hometown guy he clearly loves and misses florida and all the people he still knows who live there. have you seen his 10 things i can't live without interview that video is basically just 8 minutes of logan sargeant loving florida. and he's so cute in that video i love that video but he can and he will talk about being from florida at any given opportunity (+ very much harps on how much he enjoys being out on the water) and i'm sure some people think it's annoying but personally i find it very endearing... and putting the flag on his helmet he is just a proud guy. i care him. he's said he wants to race the indy 500 too which also gets the indycar fan in me but he wants to race it bc it's iconic and idk most f1 drivers don't want to do the 500 bc oval scary (real of them) but logan is like. no i'm Going to do it one day. it's the biggest motorsport event and i will do it. I WILL NOT REST UNTIL HE DOES.

this one is a bit more stupid but i am forever amused by just how much of a younger brother he is. maybe i just relate to him bc i'm also the youngest of two (and my sister and i have pretty much the same gap he has to dalton) but he is so little sibling energy, especially with alex. he's a little menace. particularly evident in the monaco road trip video where alex tells him to lie and he goes along with it while also trying to make alex do it for him (he's so me) and the sandwich challenge where he whines every time alex gets in his way. i know benny's kid calls him his older brother but he is so little brother it's unreal. on the brother note this fucking idiot cracked his rib karting with dalton and that's also hilarious

I DON'T KNOW MAN. i love listening to him talk. i love all his weird little quirks like how much shoulder he puts into his walk and how much he fiddles around and can't sit still and the way he almost seems to make himself smaller?? this guy is nearly six feet tall but he carries himself like a much shorter man i think it's endearing. i'm really endeared to his smile and his smiling habits (see my thesis it's a whole thing) and also all his other weird mouth ticks he has several i love that he always seems to want to be close to people (he's very touchy. if you pay attention) i love how weirdly shy he is (likes sunglasses bc you can hide behind them) i love his incessant need to have perfect hair all of the time like see the monaco video i linked earlier where he's riding in a convertible trying to fix his hair DUDE IT'S NOT GOING TO HAPPEN i love. Him.

man. i just think. that i love logan. he is my favorite for a reason. and even if he is a bit of a rah rah american (i lit listed his americanisms as one of my favorite things i enjoy them) i am slightly tired of him getting written off as just being The American or not having a personality like he's definitely more private about certain parts of his life compared to other drivers but that doesn't mean he lacks personality. maybe he is a little more softspoken too which might not help but it is there!!! he is not a piece of cardboard you just aren't giving him the time of day!!! giving him enough time of day to say he's boring but not enough to actually realize he's not

[blacklister214]

Honesty and Codology: Chapter 2 (Shenanigans)

This is the second chapter of my Scarnash fanfiction. This one is set just prior to 3x03 as Patrick is journeying to the Hotel St. Marc. As ever, sorry for any typos! Enjoy!

__________________________________________________________

Dear Lord, he hated the countryside. Traveling in a drafty carriage during the winter months was bad enough, without having to contend with the ruts in the dirt roads. 

As if on cue the carriage jolted again, causing Patrick’s head to smack hard into the side of the conveyance. Damnation. He rubbed the sore point and tried to focus on the prize that waited for him at the end of this God-forsaken trip. 

“There are better ways, you know.” 

Slowly Patrick’s gaze slid to the left, half hoping and half dreading about what he might see there. His prayers and fears were answered in the form of a lean bearded man, far more plainly dressed than Patrick. Even if Michael had survived long enough to enjoy the profits of their business, Patrick suspected he would have continued to dress simply. He’d never had much of a taste for showmanship. Their complementary skills had been what had made them such a pair. 

“To travel the French Countryside? I’m afraid not.” A glib reply, but he had none better. Months had passed since his odd experience in the hospital. The hallucination had faded to the back of his mind. He’d been shot, and tired, and taking a drug containing opium. It had been easy to dismiss as unimportant. To see Michael again though was something else entirely. 

He touched the small lump hidden by his hair. Precisely how hard had he hit his head? Perhaps he should visit a doctor when he returned to London. 

“Better ways to get a girl’s attention then by pulling on her braid.” 

Patrick ceased probing his injury. Whatever the reason for Michael's presence, he might as well take advantage. How many people were lucky enough to chat with a belated loved one?  Patrick was nothing if not an opportunist, and this was a unique opportunity.

“I haven’t the slightest notion of what you mean.” 

Michael's derisive snort told Patrick what he thought of that bald-faced lie. 

“You have cases. Many cases. So many in fact that you couldn’t spare a single one of your men to help you.” 

Patrick waved his hand dismissively. He’d been a one-man band after Michael passed, and he’d handled himself just fine. Managing thirty men hadn’t made him so soft that he couldn’t survive on his own. 

“He’s a non-violent fugitive. I'll be fine.”

Michael rolled his eyes to the heavens, as if praying for patience. 

“The point I was trying to make was that you don’t NEED to do this.” 

Patrick furrowed his brows.

“Do what? Capture a criminal twelve years on the run? Why shouldn’t I?” His successful apprehension of Charles Percival would bring Nash & Sons acclaim on multiple continents. It would launch his Paris branch in spectacular fashion. In a few times he might even expand to the United States.  

“Whatever the benefit to Nash & Sons, it would be relatively minor, compared to the benefit to Miss Scarlet’s business.” Patrick deflated a bit. That fact did slightly sting his conscience. 

“True.” He had no reason to feel guilty. They were competing agencies. He had no moral obligation to help her.

“Then why are you so determined to steal her victory out from under her?”

When Michael put it that way, it made him sound like a cad. The fact was, he hadn’t seen Eliza in months. Their last encounter had been friendly enough, especially considering she had been the reason he’d been shot. He’d been gracious about the whole thing. He even let her keep the fee after she’d offered to return it. Was it too much to ask in return that she’d drop by? They had an agreement after all. 

“Steal is such an ugly word. I went to her office to propose we track down the conman together.”

He’d been perfectly willing to share his information and in turn he’d hoped she could help him find some new leads. That was, in a way, precisely what transpired. 

“You broke in!”

Patrick held up hand to fend off further objections.

“She didn’t answer when I knocked. I was concerned. Was it my fault the whole case was pinned up to her wall for anyone to see?” This wasn’t a complete lie. For Eliza not to be in her office at 9 am was unusual for her. Their business was a dangerous one, and as far he knew, Eliza hadn’t yet acquired a weapon for her personal protection. Well, outside poison, with which he knew she was quite handy. 

“Anyone committing criminal trespass, you mean.” 

Patrick shrugged in what he hoped to be a careless manner.  

“She should learn to be more circumspect when it comes to her protecting her leads.” What Eliza needed was some hidden safes. They were quite handy when it came to storing sensitive information. Patrick himself had a multitude both in his office and in his residence. 

“Planning on telling her that when you see her at the hotel?” Patrick grimaced. Ordinarily he was quite happy to share his knowledge and experience with Eliza, but in this case it would be counterproductive. 

“No.” Eliza would react poorly if he revealed how he’d come to be at the hotel. Best if kept that nugget of advice to himself. 

“I thought you wanted to be more “fair and honest”, when it came to Miss Scarlet.”

Patrick frowned, not liking his words being used against him. 

“Ideally yes, but this is a necessary step.” Rules had to have exceptions. He fully intended to be fair and honest with Eliza, once she joined Nash & Sons. However, she never would come to work for him unless he could prove he had something to offer. 

“Toward what?”

“Toward earning her respect.” It wasn’t that he terribly minded losing to Eliza. She was an absolutely brilliant detective. It would be like a painter being upset they weren’t quite as good as Winslow Homer. What he minded was ALWAYS losing to Eliza. If he couldn’t beat her, not even once, then he didn’t deserve having her as his employee. 

“I don’t see how taking advantage of her hard work will help you achieve that goal.”

Patrick's stomach churned uncomfortably, but he ignored it. A few lies of omission were nothing in the grand scheme of things. He’d done far worse without losing a moment’s rest over it.   

“There is no reason for her to know about that part.”

The ends did justify the means in this case. On her own it would take Eliza years to build the requisite reputation for a thriving business. Working for him would ensure she got the prestige and pay she so richly deserved now. It was a mutually beneficial outcome.

Michael wiped his hands over his eyes, seeming less than impressed by Patrick’s response.

“Patrick, you lie so much, I think it might be a medical condition.” 

Patrick stiffened at the old reproof. It wasn’t as though he’d made no progress on the case before he’d…stumbled upon Eliza’s notes. 

“It’s not all a lie. I found the house on my own. I found the IDs on my own.” Well, with the help of his men, but it still counted. He wasn’t a fraud, at least not a complete one. He also had information Eliza did not. He’d scoured her evidence wall and there was neither the name “Sebastian Baron” nor his likeness. 

“Just so I have this straight: Your plan is to apprehend the fugitive, then gloat to Miss Scarlett about your success? You feel this will raise you in her esteem?” 

Michael’s tone was rather dubious, but Patrick was undeterred.  

“I’m not sure ‘gloat’ is the word I would use, but essentially yes. Once she realizes I beat her to the prize, she will be forced to acknowledge my investigative skills.” He only too clearly remembered the sneer in her voice when she spoke of his firm’s reputation. Ordinarily he didn’t care if people turned their noses up at his methods, but with Eliza it was different. He wanted her to think well of him. 

“Yes, theft is quite the step up.” 

Patrick banged fist against the seat cushion. He’d forgotten that Michael was as insistent as a pounding hammer if he thought that Patrick was making a poor choice.

“For the last time I’m not stealing from her! I fully intend to share credit and payment in exchange for her assistance transporting the man back to London.” 

He’d made his plans there in Eliza’s office, once he realized she had already left for France. Alone, neither of them could safely transport the conman to London. Between the two and the private boat he’d hired, however, they could manage it. He wondered if she’d brought any of her poisons with her. Did she intend to drug Percival and then shove him into a large trunk?

“And if she refuses? How do you plan on transporting the prisoner on your own?” Patrick blinked, thoughts diverted from wondering if Eliza had remembered to add air holes. 

“She won’t refuse.” Eliza was a survivor, like him. She may not like sharing credit, but she surely understood the opportunity this bounty represented. The trick would be to present the offer in a way that didn’t smack of condescension. Better still, if she believed it was her idea.   

“Patrick, I urge you to reconsider this course of action. You’ve already had the girl thrown in jail and attempted to poach her case. It did not end well for you.” 

“I know what I’m doing.” He’d invent a team of his men searching the countryside. They were to meet him at the hotel, but then they’d hit a snag. They’d send a message by telegram. Their carriage broke and they will be unable to assist him. If he received this note in Eliza’s presence, she might suggest a collaboration without him having to say a word. Yes, that would work splendidly.   

“What is your ultimate goal with Miss Scarlett?” Patrick focused once again on his brother. Was he back dropping hints about Patrick’s having a more than professional interest in Eliza?

“I want her to come work for me.” It was even more true today, than it had been the day they’d met. Until that day “The Lady Detective” had been a file. A case. An asset to be acquired and put to good use. She was more than that now. A person who interested him. A person he liked. Despite the genial persona that he put on like a suit, there weren’t too many of those in the world.

“Anything else?” Michael’s eyes bore into Patrick’s as though waiting for him to blink. He shifted uncomfortably under the scrutiny. 

“I suppose I wouldn’t mind it terribly, if we became friends.” He had employees aplenty, but none that he would choose to socialize with. The truth was that most people bored him. Eliza never did.

“That’s very generous of you.” Patrick did not miss the sarcasm in Michael's response and wasn’t sure he appreciated it. He pointed an accusing finger at his brother. 

“I know what you're thinking. You’re thinking I’m not good enough for her. You’re wrong.” Or so Patrick told himself. With enough repetition, he was bound to believe it, eventually.

Michael leaned forward in his seat, his hand hovering above Patrick’s knee, before withdrawing it. He sighed heavily.

“Patrick, the only person who has ever thought you're not good enough is you.” 

That comment pierced through the wall of ego that Patrick had erected to protect his heart. What stung was how very incorrect Michael was. Anyone who’d ever known the both Nash brothers had found Patrick wanting. The Irish Constabulary, their school master, their neighbors. Even their parents, though they loved both of them, knew Michael was the good son, and Patrick the bad. Jealousy might have eaten Patrick alive, if he hadn’t been so damn proud of Michael. If Michael hadn’t been so loving a brother. Besides, it hadn't been Michael’s fault. Patrick was frequently found inferior by those who didn’t even know he’d had a brother. Case and point Eliza.     

“Eliza has said, to my face, that I'm a liar and a criminal.” Having someone he admired so much consider him lesser was intolerable. He was determined to change her mind, by whatever means necessary.  

“You have a strange way of proving her wrong.” Perhaps there was some irony in his trying to swindle his way out of her original perception of him, but he didn’t care. He was who he was. His methods were his methods.

“I told you, she won’t find out about my…shenanigans. I need her to witness me win, just once. Then she might actually see me as someone worth working with.”

“Don’t you mean ‘working for’?” Patrick tilted his head to the side. Michael was right. He’d said “working with.” Strangely that prospect seemed almost more appealing than the idea of having her under his command. It was more personal. He’d get to watch her work up close. Still, that was impossible, at least on a regular basis. He was the boss. He jumped from case to case whenever he felt his expertise was needed, or for the grand reveal at the end, but he didn’t have partners.  

“Yes, of course that’s what I mean.” He felt strangely let down at the prospect. It wasn’t all bad news though. When she came to work for Nash & Sons, he would see her far more frequently than he did now. Long hours working meant shared meals, friendly banter, and getting to know each other better.

“I understand why you think you have to do this, Patrick. I do. But I think there’s one thing you haven’t considered. You want Miss Scarlet to trust you. That is the biggest obstacle standing between you and your objectives.”

Patrick nodded slowly, unable to find a fault in Michael’s logic. He was unsure where his brother was going with this line of thought.  

“Agreed.” 

“Trust is difficult to earn, but it is nearly impossible to repair. If your plan works, and then later she finds out about your deception, you’ll be far lower in her esteem than you are right now, possibly irretrievably so.” 

A sudden sense of foreboding filled Patrick. Michael was right, he was making a risky gamble. Eliza had armor similar to his own. If he breached it, even a little, and then she discovered he’d bamboozled her, she’d be beyond furious. 

When they’d last spoken, her eyes had lacked the contempt and wariness they’d held the day they’d met. Incrediment progress was still progress.The trouble was there was no other path forward that he could see, gradual or otherwise. Waiting patiently had never gotten him anywhere before, and he doubted that would change now.  He’d have to risk it.

“She won’t find out.” He’d been careful not to disturb anything in Eliza’s office. The only way he’d be caught was if he confessed. He knew how to keep a secret. 

Michael regarded Patrick, his lips pressed into a thin line as though to prevent further reproaches from escaping. He settled for shaking his head sadly.

“Good luck Patrick. You’ll need it.” 

In the blink of an eye Michael vanished as if he’d never been, leaving Patrick alone once more in the rocking carriage. 

Most unsettling, this hallucination business, but perhaps more so was the message this visit seemed to bring. A part of him clearly thought he was about to make a mistake. 

He reached into his coat and retrieved the two sketches he’d hidden there. The first was of “Sebastion Baron” which he glanced at before moving to his trouser pocket. The second was of Eliza Scarlet. He’d commissioned it when he’d first put her under investigation. He had several photographs as well, including one from her most recent arrest, but the drawing was his favorite. It captured the directness and intelligence of her stare, and well as the defiant tilt of her chin.

Patrick had brought the picture with him to show to the bellhops. They were everyone in hotels, and generally quite susceptible to bribery. He would use them to track Eliza’s arrival and movements until he was ready to greet her personally. 

He could do this. He was Patrick Nash. In less than a decade he had turned a struggling two-man PI firm into the most successful agency in London. His exploits had been written about in no less than three countries. He was about to open a second office in Paris and had plans for a third in the United States all before he turned 40. Winning the approval of one woman, albeit an extraordinary one, was well within his capabilities. It had to be.