Tetsuro Kuroo - Blog Posts

Meet-ups

a kuroo au :(( kuroo song au with ready yet by sasha sloan :((

Forgive In Time (Kuroo x Reader)

*GIF not mine*

Summary: Kuroo always teased you, joked with you during class. You couldn’t help but grow feelings for him. Evidently he didn’t return them. (Based on “Ready Yet” by Sasha Sloan.)

A/N: Sorry this is so late! Btw, you got some good taste in music, my friend. This song is just *chef’s kiss.* Anyways, I hope this is what you were looking for, and I hope you like it!

Word count: 1728

        “Hey YN.” Kuroo smiles at you and collapses into the desk next to yours. If only he knew how much that made your heart race. 

       “Hey Rooster Head.” He throws you a fake offended look that makes you giggle before he pokes your shoulder with a finger. 

       “Yeah, yeah, call me nicknames now, but soon you’ll be begging at my feet for help on the quiz tomorrow.” 

       “There’s a quiz tomorrow?!”

       The black-haired volleyball player lets out a cackle that grabs the attention of the entire room, but his gaze is still only on you. Having his attention and being able make him laugh like that made you feel… funny. Giddy, really. 

       You and Kuroo had only been friends for a few months, but within that span of time you always yearned for more. In reality, he had first spotted and identified you as a loner, one he wanted to add to his collection, evidently. 

       You didn’t mind that idea. Kuroo was kind and funny, and super hot. Somewhere, deep down inside you, you were almost sure he felt the same way. After all, he always latched onto you like white on rice ever since he first saw you in his third year class. 

       “A pretty girl like you should never have to sit alone.” Yeah, as if your panties weren’t already flying off at the sight of him. 

       Anyway, he followed those words like a devotion not unlike that of a blood oath, always claiming the desk beside yours and teasing you in any way he could. 

       God, you liked him so much. And come on, what kind of guy flirts with a girl every day without romantic intentions?

       With that thought locked in the spotlight of your mind, you glanced over at Kuroo several times throughout the school day, only getting caught about thirty percent of the time. It was okay, because each time he noticed, he threw you a wink that lit your cheeks aflame. He always chuckled at the sight, and you had to fend off any fuzzy feelings that almost made you pass out at the enticing sound. 

       Okay, seriously. It was time. 

                               ~~~

       You never really ate lunch with Kuroo, but you figured you could track him down during the time. 

       After about ten minutes of frantically scanning every nook and cranny of the school, you finally spotted him outside in the courtyard, munching on a sandwich next to a blond boy. His shorter companion was preoccupied with a game while Kuroo proceeded to chatter his ear off. 

       You weren’t surprised.

       With a deep breath of reassurance, you stepped outside into the cool breeze, hugging your school blazer tighter around yourself. 

       You got this, YN! You totally got this!

       Your heart thumped sporadically, barely making a comprehensible rhythm along with the wing flaps of your stomach’s butterflies. 

       Y-you got this, YN. Y-you… umm.

       Steps slowing, you began to realize the consequences of your actions. Kuroo still hadn't noticed you, instead digging around in his bag for the rest of his lunch. 

       Nope, you totally don’t got this. 

       Spinning on your heels, you marched back to the entrance of the school.

       What if he doesn’t actually mean it? 

       What if that’s just how he talks to people? 

       What if-

       “YN!”

       Oh fuck. 

       A hand grabs your arm and swivels you around. 

       “H-hey Kuroo, what’s up?”

       He gives you a confused smile. “What are you doin’ out here? Did you need something?” 

       Yeah, you. “Heh, umm, noooo,” you drag out the word while heavily avoiding his intense gaze. 

       Kuroo playfully jabs your side. “Oh come on, you can tell me. What’s up?” The distance between the two of you grows smaller and smaller the more he becomes more invested in the conversation, inching closer to you with every encouraging nudge. It’s too much and simultaneously not enough. Heart fluttering, you finally bat away his hand and sigh. 

       “Fine,” I can do this, “I’ll tell you.” 

       Kuroo only nods, allowing you to continue. 

       “So, here’s the thing….” 

       “Yeah?”

       Rip off the bandaid YN!

       “I like you.”

       A quick inhale, then silence. 

       “... Oh.” 

       The quiet almost kills you, leading you to scramble for something to say. 

       “I’m sor-”

       “I’m sor-”

       You both interrupt each other and pause, forcefully laughing at the awkwardness. 

       “Erm, you go first,” you gesture with a wave of your hand. Kuroo’s eyes grow pained and he looks away, rubbing the back of his neck. 

       “YN I’m really sorry, but I just don’t feel that way about you.” 

       See now, rejection was always a possibility. You knew and understood there was a chance that Kuroo wouldn’t reciprocate your feelings. 

       You just didn’t know it would suck this much. 

       For a moment, it felt like you couldn’t breathe. Your chest tightened and your throat closed up. Blood rushing through your ears, all you could do was nod numbly. 

       “Oh. Okay.”

                               ~~~

       Class was… painful. Kuroo had given you some space, as per your request, and in return your only friend in the class was now long gone. You never had anyone to talk to or ask about homework. You couldn’t giggle and make fun of the professor during class, or throw sticky notes at one another. 

       You just wish you had considered the consequences before you confessed. Not only had you gotten your heart broken, you had also lost your only companion to help make it through the school day. 

       Also, there was one other future consequence you had forgotten. 

       The school halls were empty, a sign that you had come way too early. Cursing your forgetfulness, you tightened the grip on your bag and huffed all the way to the classroom, only to be stopped by a heartbreaking sight. 

       “I’ll take you home after practice, all right baby?” 

       “Of course, see you then.” 

       Their lips clashed together in an intimate farewell, arms wrapped around each other as they swapped spit like tennis. Her hands dug into his dark hair, making it that much messier than it already was naturally. 

       And when Kuroo finally unlodged his tongue from the girl’s throat, he dragged his gaze up, up, up, just high enough to see-

       “YN?”

       In class, Kuroo always seemed just as uncomfortable and lonely as you after having to claim a new seat farther apart. Apparently that assumption was incorrect on your end. 

       A squeak escaped your lips and you froze in place. Really, what could you do? Run out of the school? Your mom would beat your ass for ditching. Just ignore it and walk into the classroom he had just made out in front of? Umm, no. You’d rather avoid that confrontation. Hide out in the bathroom? Pfft, yeah, like that would-

       Oh shit. I can hide out in the bathroom.

       Kuroo flinched at the sudden sight of you jumping into action. You pivoted and dashed down the hall in a mad sprint like a monster was after you. If anyone else was in the halls at that time, they would have seen the pure, unadulterated fear on your face and joined you in an instant, not even bothering to ask what you were escaping from. 

       It was a boy. Wasn’t it always? 

       Steps followed after you, more stretched out in the pattern of a longer stride. They only halted when you shouldered your way into the bathroom, scrambling to a stop and slamming the door in front of Kuroo’s face. 

       “YN! Hey, come on!” 

       “It’s occupied!” 

       You struggled to catch your breath as you sifted through your bag for your phone. Bingo.

       “YN please, let’s talk about this.” 

       “…”

       “YN, come on. You can’t avoid what just happened.” 

       “Watch me.” 

You: Hey mom, can you come pick me up? I’m not feeling well.

*Message sent*

                               ~~~

       Tons of calls. Hundreds of texts. Each one was adorned with a harmony of buzzes or the acoustic version of “Sexy and I Know It” —Kuroo’s choice of course. 

Tetsu😻: YN please.

Tetsu😻: Just respond.

Tetsu😻: I’m so sorry.

Tetsu😻: I didn’t want you to see that.

*Confirm name change?*

*Contact name successfully changed*

Kuroo: YN please forgive me. 

Kuroo: Just let me know how to fix this.

Kuroo: Please just say something. I’m so sorry, please just give me a chance to fix this.

       You were surprised at how much it hurt. Like a rock in the bottom of your stomach, you felt the worst emotion imaginable: complete and utter betrayal. Though you hadn’t been in a relationship with Kuroo, it still hurt to see him with another girl.

       You supposed it wasn’t really that itself. It was also the idea that he moved on so quickly. It almost felt like he had acknowledged how you felt and completely dismissed it. Watching him make out with another girl just a couple days after you confessed your feelings for him wasn’t like any other pain you had felt. 

       It wasn’t like a paper cut, but it also wasn’t like a loved one of yours had died. It just felt… achy. Like a dull gnawing in your heart. 

       Some parts of you even wanted to blame yourself. Why wasn’t I the girl he wanted? Were you not pretty enough? That girl certainly was. Not smart enough? He always had to help you with your homework, but that was when he teased you most. Or maybe-

Kuroo: I don’t want to lose your friendship. Please YN, I’m so sorry.

       ...Maybe it was because you were just that. A friend to him. Either way, you just weren’t ready to forgive him. Your heart was trampled and covered in dirt, and it could take a while before you recovered from this. 

Kuroo: Please.

       One day. One day you would forgive him. 

       You weren’t mad at him. You couldn’t be. Your feelings for him weren’t gone either. 

You: Just give me a little time please. 

       But you certainly weren’t ready to see him anytime soon. 

       Not yet. 

Kuroo: Okay.

What about an Alternate Ending to pumpkin eater reader where Kuroo sees Y/n dating someone else months or a year later (maybe she can end up with one of the other Haikyuu characters or something?) Cause I don’t forgive cheaters 😤

Pumpkin Eater (Kuroo x Reader) ~Part 2~ Never Again 

*GIF not mine*

Summary: Last night, your friend sent you pictures of Kuroo with some girl at a random club. Not only was he a liar, but he was also a cheater, and you couldn’t stand to be with him after this.

Part 1

Part 2 (Second Chance)

A/N: Uhhh, sooooo, ermmmm. Here you go…? I hope you like it…? Idk honestly. I mean, I totally agree with you on never forgiving a cheater, but also… my other fic was written so much better. Like I’m tired as hell dude. And I’m sorry it’s late, but I rly, rly hope you enjoy!

Word count: 3335

        Buzz. Buzz. 

        “Good God, is that him again?” 

        “...Maybe.” 

        Buzz. Buzz. 

        “Son of a bitch, YN! Just block him already.” 

        “All right, all right fine! I will.” 

        …

        Buzz. Buzz. 

        “OH COME ON!”

        Terushima throws his hands in the air, giving up. You flush and tuck your phone under your thigh, hoping it will silence the buzzing. 

        It was movie night with your new friend/roommate and he had been seriously invested in the film up until about ten o’ clock, or, as you called it, “Kuroo’s whine time.”

        “BLOCK THAT FUCKER!” 

        You knew he wasn’t wrong. In fact, you should have blocked him months ago. Six, to be exact. But deep down, you just weren’t ready to move on yet. 

        “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I turn it on silent.”

        Terushima shook his head and held out his hand, giving you a pointed look. “Gimme it.” 

        “... Nuh-uh.”

        “YN,” he dragged out your name, leering closer to you. “Give me the phone.”

        “I’m good, thank you.”

        “YN!” Terushima didn’t give you another chance. His home, his rules. 

        In an instant, your back is pushed down against the couch and you’re gasping for air as Terushima viciously attacks your sides with his long fingers. Giggle after giggle tumbles out of your mouth as you curl in like an armadillo. 

        “I yield, I yield!” You hold your hands after the pain in your abdomen grows to be too much. Terushima smiles at the win and he slows his hands, but keeps them on your sides. 

        His eyes glow with… something. Something you hadn’t seen since being with him. 

        But whatever. Maybe it was just the lighting.

        The blond squeezes your sides before slipping a hand under your thigh and locating the phone. Before pulling it away, he pinches your soft flesh, completely uncovered thanks to your night shorts, and chuckles at the squeal that leaves you. 

        “Yuuji!” 

        “What?” He gives you an innocent look while tossing your phone across the room. Thankfully, it lands on his armchair. 

        All you can do is sigh and straighten yourself back up, reclaiming your original position by Terushima’s side and returning your attention to the movie. His eyes stay locked on you, so close, for just a second longer before he copies your movements, focusing back in on the movie with a small quirk of his mouth. 

        You met Terushima a month after breaking things off with Kuroo. He was the only apartment renter who wasn’t a freakshow or a cult leader, and you decided it was high time to get your own place. Especially after your friend, who had hosted you for one angsty, miserable month, kicked you out. 

        “You need to get over it, YN,” she had hissed, shoving your suitcase back into your arms before slamming the door in your face. 

        And while you were still working on moving on, Terushima was a big help. He was now your guy friend, who had many guy friends that could potentially become your boyfriends. But every time you asked him about setting you up with one of them, you were instantly shut down. 

        “You’re too good for them, YN. I’ll help you find someone better, I promise.” 

        It’s been five months, and you’re still waiting for that “someone better” to come along. 

        Now, when you had first moved in with Terushima, he seemed to be a bit of a mess. Clothes, his or someone else's, were always strewn everywhere. Girls were common midnight visitors, always sneaking out with their heels in their hands and giving you bashful smiles before slipping out the door. You would only sigh and roll your eyes. 

        “Your new girlfriend overstayed her welcome this round. I think she stole our Netflix password.”

        Terushima would then purse his lips and avoid your gaze, gulping swiftly. “She’s not my girlfriend. I promise.” 

        “Sure sure. But your one-night stand still stole our password.” 

        Since then, he’s really cleaned up his act. You haven’t seen a girl come over in weeks. If you didn’t know any better, you’d say you were becoming a good influence on him, much like he was on you. Little by little, day by day, Terushima was beginning to help take your mind off Kuroo. 

        Since the day you broke down in the blond’s arms and admitted you were still stuck on him, he’s tried to help you. He even takes you on “dates” from time to time. Just yesterday you two had gone clubbing, and though you had gotten shitfaced, you figure something weird must have happened since Terushima’s been a tad awkward around you. But then he threw open your door an hour ago, scared the shit out of you, and reminded you that it was movie night. 

        You couldn’t help it. Your eyes were constantly drawn back and forth between the horror movie and the constantly-buzzing phone. 

        “YN look! A jumpscare’s coming!” 

        Just as you turned back to the TV, the serial killer flashed back into frame, leaving you to screech in terror and burrow into Terushima’s side. His arm wraps around your shoulders and rubs your arms for comfort. 

        “It’s okay, the killer’s gone now.” His voice is low and honeyed, accompanying a slight smile as he peers down at you with his affectionate gaze. 

        God how you missed being looked at like that. But you couldn’t get attached. Terushima was like Kuroo, but ten times worse. This was because he wasn’t secretive about his love life. Your very attractive roommate had a higher body count than a war general. 

        So you kept things platonic, no matter how much your body yearned for another route. 

        No. Terushima was your friend. Your best supporter at the moment. You couldn’t lose him like you had lost Kuroo. 

        So even though you cuddled deeper into his side with every heart-stopping scene, and hugged him whenever you were feeling down, and kissed his cheek as a thank you after he would massage your back and scratch your scalp after a long day at work, you would never throw any different labels on your relationship with Terushima. 

        You just couldn’t lose this one. And with him being a player, there was no point in making your feelings more than what they were. 

                                ~~~

        Kuroo missed you. God, he missed you so much. 

        He loved you, and he would never stop trying to get you back!

        That girl, she was a mistake. One Kuroo would never make again, because you were it for him. You were his one. 

        He will call you a million more times, text you, hell even track you down to the ends of the Earth just to have you back in his arms again. 

        He would give everything just to hear you say “I love you” one more time. He would die happy if he got to see those words fall from your soft lips, carefully quirked into a smile, just once. To have you back in his arms, wearing his clothes and kissing only him….

        Fuck. He had to get you back. 

        There was no sign of you at your friend’s apartment when he finally gathered the guts to visit. Only a slap in the face courtesy of one vengeful friend of yours. He knew he deserved it, too. 

        But then… God, five more months passed. Not a single woman had been in his bed, your bed, since you left. Every flirtation was turned down, every grabby hand pushed off. The only person he wanted was you. 

        So imagine his relief when he finally found you. 

                                ~~~

        “Yuuji, do you ever accidentally hurt someone with the piercing?” Your eyes were locked on the ball of metal sitting directly on his tongue while you took tentative sips of your hot chocolate. 

        Terushima sat across from you and smirked lazily, sticking his tongue out through his teeth as blatantly as he could. “Boy YN, you sure do ask a lot of questions about my piercing.” He sets his elbows on the small, circular table and leans closer to you. “It makes me wonder if you ever want to feel it for yourself.” 

        His cologne fills your nostrils, but you don’t mind. It’s become your favorite, most comforting scent. You lean closer and mock his smirk, lowering your voice just enough so only he can hear in the crowded cafe. 

        “I do.” 

        Terushima’s pupils widen in the slightest and he subconsciously leans closer. 

        You do the same, grin growing on your face before you swiftly reach out a thumb and forefinger and snag his tongue, giggling at the surprised yelp he lets out. 

        “YN!” he pouts with a lisp, smacking your hand away and hiding his mouth behind his own. “Why are you always like this?!”

        “I don’t know Yuuji, it must be your piercing or something,” you snicker, picking up your drink once more and taking another sip. You allow your eyes to wander around the cafe, only to lock on the worst sight imaginable just behind Terushima’s head. 

        It’s him. 

        He shoves the glass doors open and barges through the crowd. Your companion takes in your panicked gaze and glances over his shoulder, sneering at the person approaching quickly. 

        “YN,” Kuroo breathes out in disbelief, hazel eyes locked on your tense form. A relieved smile overtakes his face as he reaches out for your hand. “I found you-”

        You tear away from him and jump out of your chair, stepping away as your eyes begin to water. “Don’t touch me.” 

        “YN, I-” 

        “You heard her, dude. She said don’t touch her.” Terushima fixes an enraged glare on the black-haired man, standing out of his own chair and creating a barrier between your solemn form and him. 

        “And who are you,” Kuroo spits through clenched teeth, “her new boyfriend?”

        “It-...” the blond’s jaw irks before he glances back at you, “it doesn’t matter who I am. If she doesn’t want you around, then you need to leave.” 

        “You’re not her guard dog, or even her new boyfriend. You’re just a rebound.”

        “Guys…” 

        “YN doesn’t want you-”

        “GUYS! SHUT UP!” You breathe heavily after the shout before smiling at the other customers as an apology. “Let’s take this outside,” you snarl lowly.

        Like scolded children, the two men trail after you, almost fighting over who gets to squeeze through the door first until you throw them a warning look. 

        Kuroo pushes past the blond and strides towards you in an instant, capturing you in a hug that you don’t return. “God, you don’t know how much I’ve missed you.” 

        “Kuroo, I-”

        “Tetsurou.” He corrects, voice muffled against your neck. 

        “... I didn’t answer your calls for a reason. We broke up. I don’t-... we can’t be together anymore.” 

        Your ex leans back enough to look at your face and scans it for any sign of lying. “YN, I didn’t mean to hurt you. That girl,” he shakes his head, biting his lip, “she meant nothing to me. But you-”

        “Kuroo…”

        “-You mean everything to me!” A tear trails its way down his cheek, but you don’t care to wipe it away. Your face hardens at the words. 

        “Then why did you cheat?”

        “I was wasted. And she looked like you and I missed you and I miss you still! YN, you need to understand, I love you! And if you give me another chance, I won’t fuck it up.” Kuroo brushes a hair behind your cheek and your eyes widen at the contact. “I love you so much. Please don’t let this be the end of us.” 

        “...” 

        “YN, we’re meant to be. It can’t end here. Not for us.” 

        Kuroo was wrong, and so clearly mistaken. Months ago, you would have collapsed back into his arms. Months ago, you would have cried and muttered that you loved him too, that you still loved him. 

        But now…. 

        Your eyes drifted past Kuroo, locking on a silent, dejected-looking Terushima. 

        You just didn’t. 

        “Kuroo, I can’t forgive you for what you did. I just can’t.” He shakes his head and opens his mouth to respond, but you smoothly press a finger against his lips and continue. “Even if I did, I could never trust you again.” 

        “YN, if you still love me, then that’s the only reason you need to take me back. I will work every day to regain your trust, no matter how long it takes. I’ll never hurt you again. God, I love you so much, just please, please don’t let us end here.” 

        Your relationship with Kuroo ended months ago. You both were just struggling to accept that. 

        “No, Kuroo. No.” 

        His eyes close and his head hangs, allowing his remaining tears to dribble down his cheeks. “Okay,” he finally whispers, voice silent and cracking. Then he tips his head up and presses a long kiss to your forehead, his final goodbye. 

        “I love you, YN.” 

        “I know, Tetsurou.” 

        Somehow he finds it in himself to smile bitterly at you saying his name, and he nods in thankfulness. 

        With a deep sigh, he releases you and steps back, scanning over you one last time before turning away with tear-stained cheeks. 

        You had loved him for so long. He was your first everything, your high school sweetheart, and much like him, you thought Kuroo was it for you. Your happy ending. 

        You were wrong. And deep down, you were glad you were wrong. 

        Kuroo halts in his stance on the sidewalk, just barely passing Terushima before he slams his hand down on the blond’s shoulder and grips it tightly. 

        “Don’t-” he cuts himself off to purse his lips. “Don’t hurt her like I did. Don’t let this one go.” 

        The skin under Terushima’s eye twitches before he glances up at your face. “I won’t. I’m not stupid enough to make that mistake.” 

        Kuroo smiles bitterly and releases your roommate, walking away down the street and never looking back. 

                                ~~~

        A day passed, and you avoided Terushima like the plague. 

        After seeing Kuroo once again, it reminded you of why you hadn’t ever tried moving on since the breakup even once. 

        You had gotten so attached, fallen so deeply so quickly, only to be replaced for another woman for one night. You couldn’t handle that again. The pain of feeling so easily replaceable wasn’t worth the risk.

        At least, that’s what you used to think. 

        “YN.” 

        Terushima finally snagged your wrist just in time after hours of trying to stop you. You shivered in his grip, almost horrified with how eerily similar it was. 

        “Please stop avoiding me.” Terushima stared at your face with natural puppy dog eyes, and after much internal scolding, you just couldn’t resist. 

        “I’m sorry.” 

        “It’s okay. But can we at least talk about it?”

        “It” was a lot more complex than it sounded. “It” was a commitment. “It” was a major change in your life. “It” was… was…. 

        “Yeah.” “It” was accepting you might be hurt again, but trying it anyway for love.

        Terushima led you to the couch and sat you down to face him, even though your gaze was locked on everything else. 

        “YN.”

        “...”

        “YN.”

        “...” 

        “YN, please look at me,” Terushima pleaded, palming your cheek and urging you to make eye contact. When you did was when the walls broke down. 

        The sparks his touch left against your skin weren’t right. Because why did they feel so right? 

        You loved Kuroo. Some part of you always would, along with the memories you two shared. So surely falling for someone this soon, this hard was wrong, right?

        “Yuuji.” 

        “Just… let me speak first, okay?” Terushima dropped his hand to your criss-crossed lap, running his fingers along your kneecap nervously. Tingles erupted from the contact, and fuck, they felt so right. 

        You nod and his lips quirk up gently. “YN, I know you’re probably still stuck on… umm, y’know, that guy, but I also know you must be feeling something for me too.” 

        If he had said it any other way, you would have smacked him for the cockiness of the words. But the slight nervousness that tinged his tone made you love it all the more. 

        “A-and I know that you two were like,” he rolls his eyes, “perfect for each other, but I mean come on, there’s something between us too.” 

        There was. Even Kuroo had seen it, as blinded by love as he was. 

        “But I know why you’re reluctant too. And YN,” he shakes his head hopelessly and caresses your lower thigh, keeping his gaze locked on yours, “I don’t know how else to show you, but I’m not that guy anymore. Ever since you moved in, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you.” 

        “Yuuji….”

        “No other woman has made me feel the way you do,” he whispers. “And that thought kind of scares me. But I… I just can’t have anyone else. So I’m not gonna let you go.”

        You cup one side of his face with your hand and your heart stutters when he leans into the hold. Throughout all of his speech, a small grin had etched onto your face, which was nothing compared to the beaming you felt inside you. 

        Waves upon waves of adrenaline, elation, and anything akin to utter euphoria lit up your chest. A zoo stomped and trampled over the tiny butterflies in your stomach as you let out a small giggle. Terushima’s eyes widened at the sound and he instantly tried to pull away, but you swiftly smack your other hand on the other side of his face, effectively trapping him.  

        He looks down and drags his fingers away from your lap reluctantly. “Why are you laughing?” 

        You almost felt bad, but oh fuck you were so happy! You just couldn’t help it as you let out another chuckle, causing Terushima to struggle in your grip like a floppy fish. 

        “YN-”

        You finally shut him up with a kiss, pressing your smiling, giddy lips against his. So much joy bursts through your chest at the contact, and your heart flutters when the blond groans and tightly grabs at your hips. 

        He can feel your uncontrollable smiling and laughing against his mouth, and he can’t help but pull away with a confused-- but relieved-- chuckle. “Why are you laughing?” 

        “I just, hehe, I just can’t…” you trail off in snickers before yanking Terushima closer, wrapping your arms around his neck and hugging him while you attempt to stop your cackles against his collarbone. “FUCK!”

        Terushima scoffs in disbelief as he holds you against him tightly, baffled at your confusing actions. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

        “I don’t know,” you laugh into his skin, tickling him a bit. You creep your hands into his hair and tug on the strands in an attempt to focus yourself on something more serious. It doesn’t work, but Terushima lets out a surprised moan. 

        “YN!”

        “I’m sorry, I’m just,” you press an open-mouthed kiss against his neck, giggles finally slowing, “I’m really happy right now.” 

        A corner of the blond’s mouth lifts at the words and he presses you closer to his chest. “I’m happy too.” Then he tugs you far enough away that he can see your bright red face. “Now do you wanna feel my tongue piercing for real?”

        He licks his bottom lip, displaying the enticing metal bar that lights the pit of your stomach on fire. Well, at least you weren’t laughing anymore. 

        “Fuck yes.”

Just a Little Confession (Kuroo x Reader)

*GIF not mine*

Summary: A confession to Kenma doesn’t end as well as you thought it would, but luckily a tall, kind third-year is there to save the day. Still, confessions suck, and relationships are hard to read sometimes.

Author’s Note: I kinda love this one, so have fun and enjoy! (Edit: hehehe SO... this fanfic was... a little more personal than most, so if that’s why it seems a little... different, that’s why. I’m glad you guys have liked it tho!)

Word count: 4635

        Glancing around, you instantly noticed that none of your friends were in this class. It was your first year in high school, but you didn’t know a single soul around you. Hesitantly, you sat at the assigned desk the teacher had given you, and flushed in discomfort while you observed the groups of companions around you. You had never really been an extrovert, more often choosing to stay in your own personal bubble, so this was just a bad situation from the start. 

       Soon, your painful solitude was quickly demolished when the bell rang and a boy with chin-length black hair sat in front of you. You hadn't seen him before, but judging by the way his shoulders hunched over and his head tipped down, you assumed he didn’t have any friends in the class either. This was your chance to finally make a friend, you thought, reaching out your hand to tap his shoulder and introduce yourself, but the teacher swiftly interrupted your idea. 

       “Good morning and welcome to Nekoma, class. Today, we will start off slowly with an icebreaker.” The room broke out into a collective groan, hushed instantly with a small glare from the teacher. “It’s not that bad, I promise.” Now, she spoke with a forced smile, and you hid your small grin behind a hand. “All you need is a piece of paper and a partner.” Uh oh, that did it. After those words, everyone in the room performed the cliche “look to your bestie for project-partner safety” move, and now you were stuck in your lonesome, huffing and holding your chin in your hand as you waited for the teacher to notice your seclusion. Making eye contact, the teacher at once suggested, “Kozume, YLN, why don’t you two work together?” Raising your eyebrow, you watched as your original plan reformed itself, as the black-haired boy in front of you twisted in his chair to look back at you. Giving him a soft smile and introducing yourself, you observed as he quietly did the same while retrieving a piece of paper from his bag and setting it down on your desk. While making small talk, you could tell that you had finally found a friend, or at least someone to converse with, in the class, all thanks to the both of you being loners. Oh yeah, it’s all coming together, you thought to yourself victoriously.

                               ~~~

       To your own satisfaction, you and Kenma had become great friends, sharing an interest in video games and in dodging responsibilities. Most days, you needed a friend exactly like him. If you were panicking for a test, his lax attitude would calm you down. If you were happy for no reason, he would faintly return your wide grin, only for it to drop a second later as he would glance away and ask why you looked so weird. If you were miserable without a say, he would speak carefully and calmly with you, not truly showing an interest, but attempting to, and that was all that mattered to you. 

       One time, you vividly remember him indirectly complimenting you after you had spoken badly of yourself. Pouting like a child, you had crossed your arms to cover your body as you stated, “God, I look terrible today. I’m too fat.” 

       Kenma had rolled his eyes and replied, “Don’t say that about yourself, it’s not true. You shouldn’t be so mean to yourself, I think you’re cool.” He stated it without remorse, as though you could not prove him wrong, as if he believed it to be fact and nothing less. That’s when it began; that was when your crush on Kenma sprouted. No guy had ever complimented you before, so his words struck you like an arrow to the chest. 

       That night, after rambling about the day’s events in your diary, you slammed the book closed and stared up at the ceiling, replaying the scene in your head like a movie. Growing red at the memory, you hugged your journal to your chest as you thought to yourself, this is so not okay.

                               ~~~

       A year had passed, and Kenma was now in a different class as you, not that it truly got him off your mind. Sure, you didn’t think of him as often, but he still lingered there. You harbored feelings for him that could never be taken away, only because he was the first guy who had shown interest in you, and it felt good to be wanted. At this point, you still acknowledged the fact that last year, your relationship had been purely platonic and nothing more. But that never stopped you from believing it could evolve into something more romantic, and you held onto that slim chance like a lifeline. Until today. 

       The day had begun particularly terrible. First, you were on your period. Hormones were crazy and you felt like exploding on someone at any second. Second, you had just taken a test that you were not very confident in the result of, and just wanted to go to lunch and eat your sorrows away. Then one of the few acquaintances that you did have in your class this year, who had also been in the same class as you last year, decided that she could cheer you up with some delightful information about your old friend (and secret crush). 

       “Hey YN, did you hear that Kenma got a girlfriend.” Your heart stopped for a split second, and suddenly your throat decided to close up for no reason whatsoever. 

       Intaking a small breath, you replied, “Wow, that’s great for him.” But it hurt you, and you cursed yourself for being so affected by this little tidbit of information. You hadn’t talked to him in over a year, so you had no right to be… jealous? Or disappointed? One of the two. 

       “Yeah, she’s the daughter of the substitute in…” Her voice faded away as she rambled on about things you just didn’t need to hear right now. You gazed off into the distance, suddenly finding the chalkboard behind her very interesting. Looks like it could use a good cleaning, you thought to yourself, tilting your head slightly to view it from a different angle. What a magnificent piece of- you were cut off from your “lights on, but nobody’s home” moment when the lunch bell finally rang. Flinching at the clangor that suddenly occurred, you sped off to sweet, glorious foodland, i.e. the cafeteria, leaving your friend in the dust while simultaneously cutting her off mid sentence. Now that’s multitasking. 

                              ~~~

       At last, you arrived home for the day, and quickly made your way to your room. An urge to cry arose the instant you saw your diary. It was tempting you to write down what had happened today, but you really didn’t want evidence of this day forever. He has a girlfriend, he has a girlfriend, he has a girlfriend. Like a song with the worst chorus ever, that thought played on repeat in your head. Luckily, you decided to change the station, grabbing your earbuds from your nightstand and plugging in both ends of the cord accordingly, thankfully on the first try. As every normal teenager does, you instinctively choose a song that both forces you in your feels even worse and also makes you feel better, like you weren’t alone in this unjustified pain. We haven’t talked in months, so it’s understandable that he’s moved on. Especially since we weren’t in a relationship in the first place, you thought to yourself, feeling like a mature adult handling the situation rationally. But no matter how many times you whispered that in your head louder than the music in your ears, it never stopped you from hugging your childish, but necessary, stuffed animal tighter and allowing a few tears to slip. 

                              ~~~

       Thank goodness, your sport was finally in season, and you were ready to play. After working your butt off and inspiring yourself with more than a few videos on YouTube, you were totally ready to kick names and take ass, and no one would stop you. You had after-school practice today, and both you and your teammate chatted happily as you walked into the cafeteria to refill your water bottles. As soon as you reached your destination, however, you heard a familiar, monotonous voice greet you. 

       “Hey YN,” Kenma spoke, and you just about gave yourself whiplash while swinging around to see him give you a small smile and wave before continuing past with his tall, third year companion. You hadn’t uttered a word, but instead opted to give a meek wave as your voice caught in your throat. After watching him disappear into a crowd on his way to the gym for volleyball practice, your teammate cheekily elbowed you in the side and waggled her eyebrows at you suggestively with a sly smile. 

       “He totally likes you,” she teased while resealing her water bottle. You synthetically guffawed at the thought, frantically shaking your head at the thought, but your eyes, still wide from watching Kenma walk away, begged to differ. 

       “He doesn’t like me,” you refuted, but the butterflies in your stomach began swarming with hope at the thought.

       “He totally does!” She supported her opinion with an encouraging smile.

       “No he doesn’t, because he has a girlfriend, and I like him,” you confessed, and your mood took a swan dive at the memory. Oh right, he has a girlfriend. 

       “Oh,” was your teammate’s only response, and the subject was quickly dropped from conversation. And even though she seemed to give in to that fact quite instantly, you weren’t so sure anymore. Her words enlivened something inside you, gave you a bubble of hope that panged at your heart. Uh oh, I have an idea, you thought, and it was bad. Really bad. But you liked it. 

                               ~~~

       For the first time in your life, you decided to confess to a guy you liked. You had never done it before, but all your friends always talk about their less-than-ideal confessions, and now it was your turn. It’s a part of life everyone must experience: an action born of pure humility with just a sprinkle of hope that led to either a relationship or self-loathing. Either way, you believed you were ready for it. Sadly, no one’s ever really prepared, and you just kind of have to go for it. So that’s what you were doing. Maybe it was a bad idea, but it also felt like a rite of passage into becoming a true high schooler. The shame or pride coming from the other end, whichever you received, would contain a life-lesson for relationships. Plus, you had weighed the odds of whether he had broken up with his girlfriend, and felt pretty confident in your results. And so, there you were, restlessly shifting from foot-to-foot in the middle of the school cafeteria, waiting to intercept Kenma on his path to practice. Slightly lightheaded, you took a few deep breaths as you allowed your eyes to survey the bunch of students around you for the blond-and-black haired volleyball player. Finally, you spotted him, even though his shorter stature had made it difficult.

       “Kenma!” you called out victoriously, grabbing his attention in a flash. His gold eyes seeked out the voice, and a small smile grew on his face when he saw you approaching. Stopping in front of him, you felt the telltale signs of nervousness beginning to grow throughout your body, and you hurriedly hid your clammy hands behind your back. “H-hey umm,” you stopped yourself, gulping anxiously and thus swallowing the stutters escaping your lips. Your body, in exchange, gave you a propelling wave of confidence, which you allowed out of your mouth in the form of, “I just wanted to tell you that umm…” you trailed off, your mind going blank and your jaw slacking as you stared at him. Confused, Kenma’s brows furrowed while he watched you zone out in a matter of seconds. Oh f**k me this is embarrassing, you thought to yourself, quickly swallowing the fly you had caught before shaking your head. Thanking any deity that roamed in the sky for granting you a single moment of clarity, you took the chance and quickly blurted out, “I have a crush on you, and I’ve had it since last year, and… yeah.” While that didn’t last long, but at least you got the job done, right? Bouncing on your toes, you braced for impact while fighting the urge to run away and/or throw up from nervousness.

       “Oh, umm, wow YN, that’s really nice of you to say, I guess,” he mumbled, and your brow raised in confusion at his words. “But I have a girlfriend.” Oh, there it is. Slowly, your breath hitched, and your nerves began to calm from the blanket of disappointment that had been dropped onto your body like ice cold water from a bucket. Why do people do this again? Does it ever end well? ‘Cause right now, it’s kinda sucking major butthole. 

       “Oh, ok, so I’m gonna go now I’ll see you around,” you babbled, turning around without another word and making a beeline for the exit of the school. Not a soul had been around to witness the downfall of YN, not that it would have been any more mortifying than it already was. 

       You wanted to laugh. You wanted to make jokes until the pain faded away, and the tears evaporated. But your body denied the request, and instead you got a sniffle. Then another. Then another, until your whole face looked like a new, mucusy waterfall discovered right here in Tokyo. Disgusting, and it felt disgusting too. What a horrible feeling, plan, and experience, all wrapped into the world’s shittiest present. Nobody wants to cry in school, though, so you pushed open the exit doors and let them slam behind you without a care for the loud sound it made. You promptly slumped down the wall beside the doors and let loose. Surprisingly, you weren’t one to cry often, and when you did, it was normally an especially wretched occasion. Does this one count, because it sure as hell feels like it counts. Hugging your knees to your chest, you gladly welcomed the stars that floated behind your eyelids from clenching them shut so hard, and greeted the tingly sensation growing in your arms from clutching your legs tightly happily as well. The pain was a distraction, until it wasn’t the only distraction. 

       A presence crouched down in front of you, but you refused to look up. In this school, you had no image to maintain, but you sure as hell still didn’t want to flash your sniffling mug to whoever sat in front of you. So he took the first step. 

       “Hey, are you okay, YN?” The male voice was gruff and hesitant, but still compassionate enough to make you want to give in and take comfort in his arms. Right now, you didn’t want to ask how he knew your name. All you knew was you needed support. Hell, any source of sympathy you could be given right now you would accept gladly. Gradually, you raised your head and looked at the boy in front of you, almost bursting into tears for a second time at the sight. Although your eyes burned from the light around you, along with the sudden release of pressure thanks to opening your eyelids, you instantly recognized Kenma’s tall third year friend. Suddenly, you felt like you would be better off alone again, and lord how you wished that were true. But you weren’t superhuman, and you had emotions, and needed comfort. So when the guy noticed your original plan of burrowing back into yourself once more, he gave you an undeniable proposal, swiftly opening up his arms in offering of a hug. 

       To be clear, you weren’t the type of girl to enjoy being a damsel in distress. Generally, you would deny hugs from strangers, and you rarely felt comfortable even hugging your friends, but right now you needed someone, anyone who would listen, or even just hold you and let you cry on their shoulder. So you softened yourself up and acknowledged this fact, accepting the hug while slowly falling forward into his warm arms and weeping quietly. While trying to stop the fresh wave of tears loading up in your ducts, you attempted to distract yourself by thinking about your… shoulder-to-cry-on’s name. It started with a K, that much you knew. However, when he began to softly caress the back of your head, the new wave of tears unleashed without warning at his tender actions. Yes, it hurt to be rejected by Kenma, but this overwhelming need to cry in someone’s hold travelled deeper than that. Your diary no longer could contain all the emotions you felt trapped in your mind for the past few years now. Finally, you realize that pen and paper just won’t do it: you need someone else by your side to prevent you from truly exploding. In the third year’s arms, you felt cared for, for the first time in a long while, and it felt good. On the surface, you felt greedy and selfish. Who were you to take up this guy’s time with your tears? But then you remembered that he offered first, and yeah, maybe he wasn’t enjoying it so much right now, as surely you weren’t a great sight to see, but surely he could tell how much you needed it. And no one should deprive another from letting their guard down and just plain old crying. So for a few more minutes, you relished in his grasp, wondering how much time had truly passed while waiting for your tears to slow. What a stand-up guy this dude is, you thought, I hope he’s really happy in his life so he doesn’t have to feel an ache like this. Yes, you barely spent enough time with Kenma to truly blame all of the tears you had shed on him, but he had still been your first real crush, and your first confession and rejection, so it still tore a wound in your heart. Besides, it feels good to cry. 

       When your eyes and nose began to dry and all that was left of your blubbering was puffy, red cheeks, you pulled back away from the guy, laughing awkwardly and wiping at your face with the sleeve of your school uniform. “Thank you,” you mumbled gratefully, giving him a soft smile, “I really needed that.”

       “Of course,” he replied, smiling and nodding understandingly. 

       “So umm, what’s your name?”

       He cracked up at your question, and you giggled softly with him, cheeks burning at your own obliviousness. “Kuroo, my name’s Kuroo.”

       I knew it started with a K.

       “Well, thanks Kuroo, I’m sorry if I ruined your- Oh crap I ruined your shirt!” You gasped in surprise at the large splotch you had left behind, a damp mark circling the collarbone and shoulder of his blue blazer. Once more, he chuckled at your reaction and shrugged off the jacket, revealing the typical white and black shirts underneath. Folding it on his lap, he patted it down before leaning forward with his elbows on his knees.

       “It’s fine, don’t worry about it.” You purse your lips and huff slightly at his dismissive attitude. You wanted to repay him, and covering his blazer with your own snot and tears was not sufficient enough payment, no matter how much you wanted it to be. “It’s fine, I swear,” he insisted with a smirk, snickering at your panic. “Now tell me. What happened?”

                               ~~~

       Walking through the halls, you couldn’t seem to help the smile stuck on your face. Kuroo looked down at you and grinned back, tightening his arm around your shoulders and squeezing lightly. “Why are you so smiley today? Not that I’m complaining, but it’s kinda freaking me out, so feel free to explain,” he teased, poking the side of your cheek after you had stuck your tongue out at his comment. After that fateful day when your confession to Kenma had flopped, Kuroo had stuck by your side like a fly on a piece of crap. On the first day, when he spotted you in the halls, he came over and gave you a small side hug, wrapping his lanky arm around your shoulders and pulling you into his side. At first, you blushed and shyly pushed at his chest to move away, embarrassed like a daughter would be of her father. But now you began to cherish his hugs and clingy actions, almost missing them whenever you were in class or at home. The pair of you currently had a routine going: Kuroo would spot you in the halls and call out your name, and you would look up, approach him and wrap your arm around his waist as he pulled you into his side, his thumb caressing your collarbone. Slowly, Kuroo began to worm his way into your daily life, and you allowed it. On days where you were unhappy, he would walk you to class and even bring you a treat from a vending machine if he had the chance. On days where you seemed particularly upbeat, he would give you a grin back and poke your cheeks, commenting on how beautiful you looked when you wore a smile. Things were great, so much better than before that you easily forgot how spontaneous this change in your daily life had been. All because you were simply… happier.

       “I’m just thinking about how your hair looks like a chicken,” you laughed, squealing after he pokes you in the side as revenge.

       “Excuse me, it’s called a ‘Rooster head,’ look it up. Plus, you said you liked it,” he exclaimed, making a disappointed noise at your betrayal. 

       “Eh.” You shrugged.

       “Eh, EH! What does ‘eh’ mean?! Part of the reason I like you is because you don’t make fun of my hair, too, so don’t test me,” Kuroo shamelessly admitted, messing around with your own locks in revenge as you tried to wrestle away from his destructive hands. After finally escaping his grip, you both said your farewells as you stepped into your classroom, a pleasant, irresistible smile on your face. 

                               ~~~

       The day had turned gloomier for the rest of the school when it began to rain outside, but it just so happened to be your favorite weather, so you didn’t complain one bit. While sitting at a table in the cafeteria, you closely inspected your umbrella, hoping to see what had made it utterly useless. Losing yourself in the moment of trying to think of how an umbrella is constructed, you don’t realize a figure is approaching until it’s too late. Then you hear it: the squeaky steps of tennis shoes. Looking up to identify the student, you instantly tense up at the sight and forget your emergency exits. Good thing you’re not on a plane, ‘cause you would be fu-.

       “Hey YN,” Kenma speaks, interrupting your train of thought. His golden eyes are piercing straight through you, making you feel paralyzed and helpless. 

       “H-hey Kenma, long time no see huh,” you laugh nervously. “So how’s your girlf-” 

       “So you and Kuroo, now, huh?” How many times is this motherf****r gonna cut me off- wait what? His tone was sharp as a knife, and even though he had only uttered those words, you already wondered what you had done wrong. You felt like you were trapped in a boiling pot of water, the temperature slowly rising as you sat there, stuck. 

       “Huh?” was the only response that escaped your lips questioningly. 

       “YN, I really do care for you, so let me just warn you now. Kuroo has had a lot of girlfriends, and they come and go real quick, so be careful. I just don’t want you to get hurt.”

       Kenma’s voice had turned soft along with his eyes, but all you could reply was “Huh?” Neglecting your confused look, the volleyball player walked away without another word, leaving you alone with your umbrella. “What the hell was that?” you looked down and asked the object. Sadly, it didn’t respond, nor did it work, so you stood up and accepted your fate, leaving Nekoma and trekking through the rain to your house. As the droplets soaked through your school-issued blazer while you sauntered, your mind never strayed from wondering what the hell Kenma had been talking about. 

                               ~~~

       Laying down on your bed and contemplating your encounter with Kenma did wonders on your habit of overthinking things, but at least you finally think you’ve figured it out. Did Kenma think you and Kuroo were dating? Well duh, obviously. But was he jealous of Kuroo, or was he just looking out for his old friend? The part of you that still harbored feelings for him, because if you didn’t know, that shit doesn’t fade away even after a few weeks, desperately wanted to believe that he was jealous. Plus, every girl loves to hear how a guy is jealous over her. However, you knew Kenma, and you knew his only two emotions were slight excitement and boredom. So you had to throw that idea out the window, which left you with the other half of contemplations about whether Kuroo and you appeared to be a couple. You supposed the hugging made it seem that way. That, and the fact that the day you had confessed to Kenma, you had told all your friends before that you were going to confess to “someone.” Also, all those times your friends had said you and Kuroo were a cute pair. And that one time you kissed him on his cheek because he had given you chocolate on a bad day. And whenever he kisses you on the side of the head before dropping you off at class. And that one time when- Holy crap! Do you like Kuroo? Are you two dating and you didn’t even notice? Moving on to the most important questions: did you like Kuroo, and did he return those feelings? Your hand twitched towards your phone, and you blinked down in surprise. At this point, your heart was beating rapidly as you stared into the black screen at your own reflection. Should you call him? Are you tired of asking questions and ready to get some fucking answers? Dear God yes. Swiftly, you snatched up your phone and looked at Kuroo’s contact. When he had placed his number in your phone, he had also added multiple heart emojis around his name as well. Huh, never realized those were there. When contemplating between the call and text button, your finger had accidentally skimmed so close that you hit ‘call.’ 

       “Shit, shit, shit, shii...take mushrooms, hey Kuroo.” You were interrupted in the midst of your nervous cussing when a voicemail started recording after your cheek had accidentally pressed the one button. “Um, so I just wanted to know if you like me and if we’re dating. Talk to you later, okay byeeeee.” You hit end call and groaned while running your hands down your face, shoving your phone as far away from your lap as possible. The stress from… whatever the hell you wanna call what you just did, was starting to get to your head, so much so that you decided to take a nap to sleep off the embarrassment. 

                               ~~~

*Two missed calls from 😻TETSUROU😻*

*Three notifications from 😻TETSUROU😻*

😻TETSUROU😻: Hey, are you serious?

😻TETSUROU😻: Did you really just call and ask that?! Seriously???

😻TETSUROU😻: Ofc I like you, we’re dating, dumbass, so I kinda have to 🙄 <3

could you do the haikyuu captains with a vtuber bf who's an asmr artist? sorry if this is too specific lmao </3

Oo! Of course. And no worries, it’s perfectly fine to be specific! ∩^ω^∩

———————

Haikyū!! captains with a M! S/O who's a vtuber asmr artist:

Sawamura Daichi:

- Daichi is definitely supportive of his s/o, whether it’s something they do as a hobby or something professionally. Although, part of him honestly has a little bit of a hard time getting his head wrapped around all of the different content that his boyfriend puts out.

- Secretly thinks that their Vtube model [If it looks similar to s/o] looks really cute. Probably has a couple pieces of fanatics of them saved on his phone if he ever sees some of it online.

- Will always come with water, tea or something for him to drink when he is editing videos. Although, if it’s too late into the night, then you better be prepared to be met with Daichi's pout and him dragging you back into bed, complaining about how editing in the middle of night was bad regardless of the video ending up coming a bit later out during the day than it usually would.

- In his mind, his s/o's health comes first. Which is why he’s started carrying around extra water and cough drops, just in case I’d there should ever be any issues of his boyfriend staying up too late or being horse next day from recording.

- Can’t really watch the more sensual videos out in the open, but he may or may not do so in private. Sometimes when he can’t sleep though, he will watch those compilations of him '[Name/Stage-name] being adorable for 12 minutes' and just can’t help but smile over it.

- If he got asked if he wanted to feature in a video, he might have to think over it for a bit. But, if it was something more chill, like just sitting down and chatting on a live-stream perhaps, that could probably more be his style.

Kurō Tetsuro:

- While there may have been teasing involved about it when the cat was out of the bag, there is no denying that he is immensely proud of his boyfriend, whether there is just a small fan following or not. Something about someone with a passion, whether it’d be similar to his own or something completely different, just couldn’t help but make him feel attracted to someone.

- Since he is used to people staying up later than was probably healthy, I don’t think he will be too mad about it. All that work that gets put into the videos takes time, after all. But, if he sees him on the edge to fall asleep or get too stressed about it, then it’s break time. He’d even offer to massage his boyfriend's tense shoulders and sore back, if it could help them relax more.

- Talks to Kenna a whole lot about it. Kuroo just can’t help but find it so cool that his best friend is kind of getting a bit tired of hearing about it as often as he does. Even on his phone, it’s kinda evident; with all the screenshots, fanart and even having his Vtuber avatar as a background picture, since they are so cute.

- Prefers to listen to their videos when he’s alone, like doing homework or heading home on his own. Part of Kuroo just can’t help but smile as he feels the tingles travel over his body from the sound of that adorable, quiet voice that he hears through his headphones.

- [Kinda spoiler-y but nothing explicit?] Would without question buy what could be needed for a setup if they move in together. Need a new mic because the other broke? He’s on it. Expect a new one to come in for the next few days. Need someone to

- Always willing to listen to a new video if his boyfriend wants some feedback or to check on it all. He'll try to give his best opinion on it and give back feedback, as well as if he picks up on any audio issues. Would even try and learn how to edit if there needed extra hands.

Oikawa Tōru:

- THIS BOY RIGHT HERE– Look, you’re not ever going to feel any sense of embarrassment or of the like when you’re together with Oikawa. He'll shower all the love and appreciation over him if there’s ever a day that he’s feeling down, stressed from all of the video and sound editing or the posting schedule.

- Tōru makes sure to keep cough drops on him for his boyfriend in case he was recording too much the night over. He also often makes sure to, whenever he’s over, to get some tea for them to enjoy together. When you use your voice as much as you do, it’s important to not overuse it, right?

- His lover's videos are probably the only thing that can rival how long he spends on seeing volleyball tapes in the middle of the night. There’s even times where they’re so calming that he ends up falling asleep from it with a small smile on his lips.

- If you ever invite him to join you for a video q&a or anything of the like, he will be ecstatic! It would definitely become one of the most viewed posts on the channel, due to just how cute that the two of them are together and with how Oikawa is. He would definitely also like to be an anime Vtuber in it so that the two could look really cute together.

- The other third years have definitely heard enough stories of them in their lifetime with how long he can go on about him. There’s just no helping when it comes to that. Though, it’s only really around his team– He doesn’t want his fans to bother them about it and their relationship. And if it were to happen, he would definitely tell them off.

- All in all, Tōru is above supportive when it comes to what his boyfriend wants to do, especially when it comes to something to do with what he’s passionated about. He really couldn’t be more proud to see someone he loves so dearly enjoying their interest in such a way.

Bokuto Kōtarō:

- Oh, Bokuto is excited, alright? His lovable, handsome boyfriend is a Vtuber? He just couldn’t be more proud! You’ve earned yourself your biggest hype man. It definitely calls for big hugs and kisses everyday, including whenever a major achievement has happened in his career and on his channel.

- Sometimes he has to remember that there needs to be quiet when his s/o is filming. A few accidents have happened where he walked in on him talking quietly into the mic or making a sound effect, happily calling him in a loud voice before it became clear what he was doing. But don’t worry, all is forgiven and Kō will always apologize, watching from the bed or a nearby chair if needed.

- He loves the Vtuber model! He definitely thinks it’s really cute, especially if it looks like his s/o. He would probably save a whole lot of fanart and screenshots of them, that it would be almost all there was on the album on his phone.

- Like Kuroo, he has definitely talked to both the captain and Akāshi about his boyfriend. He just can’t help himself when it comes to him, unless it’s something that they’ve agreed not to go over. The two may get a bit tired of hearing about it so does the team, but, they can see just how happy that the two make each other, so they can’t be too mad.

- Has no shame about where he’s listening to it. Whether it’d be out in public other his headphones on, in his breaks or at home. He's practically listened to them all, but has sometimes just ended up falling asleep from how peaceful some of them are.

- If asked if he wanted to appear, the biggest smile will be on his face. Kōtarō would love nothing more to get to be apart of something so cool and something that his boyfriend cared about so dearly.

Ushijima Wakatoshi:

- For Ushijima to understand what it was, you’d definitely have to sit him down and explain it to him, because otherwise he honestly wouldn’t even be sure about to make of it. He may be a genius when it comes to volleyball, but there are still a lot of things that he doesn’t fully get on the level that some others might.

- Though, once understanding it, he would definitely be supportive of it. That was, even if he didn’t really get the full appeal of what his boyfriend posted. He might get a few jokes in good fun thrown at him from his teammates Tendō because of it, but he is genuinely interested in getting to know about it because of it being his s/o's passion.

- Would listen to the videos without thinking all that much about it in the start, mostly just at home where he can really just sit and watch them for to their fullest. Often after a new video has been posted, he’ll go watch it and let [Name] know that he did a good job as always, like the sweetheart that he is.

- If his boyfriend wanted to do a q&a or something similar, Wakatoshi wouldn’t have too much against it. Mostly, it might just be a worry if him and his fans would enjoy him being there, or if his s/o would even want to let their relationship be known to anyone.

- Will help carry equipment if it’s ever needed. There’s even times where he will buy or get certain things that could become useful for a video. Some may not end up being used, but Ushijima is just glad to see that there gets taken such good care of what gets put up and not. Though, whenever he does hear/see something he got was used, it does make his heart beat a bit faster, with a smile on his lips.

- Most of the time, he usually doesn’t bring it up in public. It’s both of what his s/o would prefer, but also because he can’t see why it matter. [Name] is his boyfriend, who happens to do asmr content as a cute/handsome anime boy, and he loves him more than anything there could ever be express in words.

Kita Shinsuke:

- This definitely brings out the mother hen part of Kita, especially if his boyfriend is the type to sit up late and work. Whether that goes for recording or editing– He will definitely want to know how long you’ve been going for and if it’s too late, he will have you get some sleep or rest.

- Another boy who will get something for him to snack on. Though, unlike the others, the food is more on the healthy side; like fruit, vegetables and sometimes something bigger like an onigiri. There will also always be a bottle of water or a hot drink waiting at the desk when Kita knew that the other had things to do.

- While it’s not something that he usually watch, Shinsuke does watch his boyfriend's videos when he has time. They are rather relaxing to listen to, especially if he’s cleaning, cooking or doing something else while doing so. The ones that’s more relaxing are his favorite.

- If he’s ever asked to join for a video, he would probably have his doubts. But, if it’s something more low-key, then he could be up for it. He doesn’t exactly want to have his boyfriend's fans/subscribers to only want to be interested in their relationship rather than what gets put out.

- [Slight manga spoilers? Nothing specific] If you move in together, then he’ll definitely help set up a room for him to record in, as well as help get some specific stuff that might be needed for videos. Kita isn’t an expert in the field, but he’s willing to help out.

- When it comes to his friends around him that brings it up, though, Kita will without hesitating to show how happy he is of his s/o. It’s not everyone that makes it and to see you go that far? Incredible. And even if you’re not that big and just doing it more for fun? Just as proud. He will always be there if his lover ever would need him and love him no matter what.

Office hook up with kuroo 🤤

Hi Anon!! Thank you so much for sending in this request — it was genuinely so much fun to write! 😭

Enjoy<333

--

Anon Ask: Kuroo (NSFW)

The office was eerily quiet, save for the low, steady hum of the fluorescent lights overhead. Rows of desks stretched out in neat, darkened lines, papers stacked, chairs pushed in, computer monitors black and still. The occasional ticking sound from the wall clock echoed faintly in the wide, open space, amplifying just how empty it really was.

You pushed open the door to Kuroo’s private office, balancing two takeout bags in your hands like a peace offering.

"Dinner's here, workaholic," you called, voice cutting through the stillness.

Inside, Kuroo looked up from behind his desk. He was hunched over some paperwork, hair even messier than usual—wild tufts sticking up from where he'd clearly dragged his fingers through it. His tie hung loose around his neck, the top two buttons of his shirt undone. Dark shadows smudged under his golden eyes, but when he spotted you standing there, his whole face shifted.

The tension in his shoulders eased. The corner of his mouth curved into a slow, lazy smile.

You made your way inside, carefully setting the bags down on the edge of his desk, nudging aside a stack of folders to make room. The rich, savory scent of your order wafted up between you, warm and inviting.

He leaned back in his chair, stretching out long legs under the desk, lacing his fingers behind his head with a low, satisfied groan. His eyes never left you—watching you with a smoldering kind of patience.

"Wow, must be my lucky night," he said, voice a rough, playful rumble.

You rolled your eyes as you started unpacking the food. "Yes, bask in my generosity. You owe me dinner and maybe dessert."

He chuckled under his breath, pushing up from his chair with a heavy, purposeful kind of movement. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, veins prominent along his forearms. He looked both exhausted and predatory—and somehow, devastatingly good.

He walked around the desk slowly, almost leisurely, but there was a weight to it. A coil of energy you could feel tightening between you with each step.

"You bringing me dinner... wearing that?" His gaze skimmed shamelessly over you, lingering at your legs, the snug fit of your jacket. "Dangerous."

You huffed, smoothing down your coat self-consciously. "Calm down, corporate Romeo. It’s just jeans and a jacket."

He smirked, dipping his head slightly as he stepped closer, voice dropping to a rough whisper. "Still dangerous."

You shook your head, scoffing lightly, but your pulse betrayed you, skipping when he closed the last of the distance. His presence was overwhelming—the subtle scent of his cologne, the heat radiating off his skin.

He stopped just short of touching you, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. His fingers flexed slightly at his sides, like he was barely holding himself back.

"You know what I've always wanted to do?" he said, voice low and rough.

You raised an eyebrow, shooting him a dry look as you finished unpacking the containers. "Please don't say ‘work overtime,’ because I'm not into that."

Kuroo chuckled, the sound rumbling from deep in his chest. He leaned down slightly, close enough that you felt his breath against your ear.

"Always thought about bending you over my desk," he murmured. "Right here. After hours. When no one's around to hear you."

You blinked at him, deadpan. "You're disgusting."

But your body—traitorous as ever—leaned in, just a little. Your pulse kicked up, a warmth blooming low in your stomach.

"You love it," he teased, fingers brushing lightly against your waist, the touch barely there but searing.

You scoffed, stepping back half a pace, bumping lightly into the desk. "And here I thought you were a professional, Kuroo-san."

"I am professional. I'm professionally fantasizing about you," he quipped, tilting his head, that lazy grin deepening.

You fought the smile tugging at your lips, trying to maintain the upper hand, but it was useless. Especially when he stepped closer again, boxing you in, the edge of the desk biting into the backs of your thighs.

"Tetsu, seriously," you said, palms flattening against his chest when he closed the distance, feeling the steady thump of his heart under your touch. "I literally just brought you food."

"Exactly," he said simply, hands skimming up your sides, slow and coaxing. His thumb traced lazy, hypnotic circles against your hipbone. "And now I'm starving for something else."

"You're impossible," you muttered, even as your hands fisted weakly in his shirt.

"And you're stalling," he murmured back, his voice thick, heated.

You opened your mouth—but nothing came out.

Instead, you grabbed a handful of his loosened tie and yanked him down into a kiss, slow and burning, full of everything you hadn't said.

The takeout bags hit the floor with a muffled thud.

Kuroo groaned low in his throat, one hand sliding up your thigh, hitching your leg around his waist as he walked you back, pressing you flush against the edge of the desk.

You parted your lips under his without hesitation now, tugging him impossibly closer, deepening the kiss until your heads spun.

"Fuck, look at you," he rasped, breaking the kiss just long enough to tug your coat down your arms and toss it somewhere unseen. "So fucking pretty for me."

You whined when his hands found the hem of your jeans, pushing it down your hips with slow, deliberate pressure.

He lifted you onto the desk, scattering papers and pens with zero care. Your legs wrapped around him instinctively, your body already humming in anticipation.

The kiss broke again when he mouthed down your throat, rough and reverent all at once. Your head fell back with a soft, shuddering breath, heart hammering so hard it echoed in your ears.

"Still think I'm disgusting?" he teased against your skin, voice dark and amused.

"Absolutely," you managed, breathless. *"Now shut up and fuck me, Kuroo."

His answering growl vibrated against your throat.

And then he was undoing his belt with one hand, the other keeping you pinned exactly where he wanted you—laid out across his desk, messy, panting, and entirely his.

The desk beneath you creaked softly as Kuroo pressed your front down against the cool surface, one hand splayed firmly between your shoulder blades, keeping you there. His body loomed behind you, solid and hot, while he dragged his other hand down the curve of your spine, slow and possessive.

Your jeans were tugged halfway down your thighs, tangled around your knees. His fingers brushed teasingly over the waistband of your underwear, snapping it lightly before hooking them and sliding them down too, baring you completely to him.

You squirmed under his touch, hips canting back instinctively, seeking more.

“You're still overdressed,” he muttered, voice rough as he leaned over you, his breath hot against the shell of your ear.

You barely managed a breathless huff before his fingers slid between your thighs, finding you slick and ready. He groaned low in his chest.

“Fuck, look at you,” he rasped. “Already so fucking wet.”

You whimpered when he teased your entrance with two fingers, circling lazily but never giving you the pressure you craved.

“Tetsu,” you gasped, writhing under him.

He finally pushed in—one thick finger first, curling expertly, then another, scissoring them slowly to open you up. The stretch was delicious, just shy of overwhelming.

Your forehead rested against the cool desk, your fingers curling against the smooth surface.

Kuroo’s free hand stroked down your back, soothing, grounding you as he worked you open, coaxing soft, broken sounds from your lips.

When he withdrew his fingers, you whimpered at the loss—but then you heard the sound of his belt unfastening, the metallic clink sharp in the heavy silence of the office.

You twisted your head slightly, just enough to catch a glimpse of him out of the corner of your eye—his flushed face, the way he pumped himself slowly, slicking his cock with your wetness still clinging to his fingers.

He lined himself up behind you, the head of his cock dragging through your folds in a slow, maddening tease.

“Say you want it,” he murmured.

“I want it- I want it please,” you choked out, voice shaky with need.

He didn’t make you wait.

With one steady thrust, he pushed into you, the stretch stealing the air from your lungs. He filled you completely, bottoming out with a low, wrecked groan.

He stilled for a moment, both hands braced on your hips, thumbs pressing into your skin.

“You feel…” he muttered, voice ragged. “You feel so fucking good.”

You nodded weakly, pushing back against him, desperate for him to move.

He took the hint.

He pulled back slowly, almost all the way out, before thrusting back in with enough force to jolt your body forward on the desk. Papers fluttered to the floor, but neither of you cared.

Kuroo found a brutal rhythm, each snap of his hips making the desk creak under the force of it. His tie swung loose from his collar, occasionally brushing against your lower back with each rough thrust.

The sounds—skin slapping, your broken gasps, his low, breathless curses—echoed obscenely in the otherwise empty office.

“Mine,” he growled, fucking into you harder now, faster, one hand sliding up your back to fist gently in your hair, tugging your head back so he could kiss the nape of your neck, teeth grazing your skin.

“Yours,” you gasped, knuckles white where you gripped the desk.

The coil in your stomach tightened impossibly fast, your orgasm building with every relentless drive of his hips.

“Come for me,” he panted against your ear. “Let me feel you.”

A few more thrusts and you shattered—clenching around him, crying out his name in a broken, wrecked moan. Your body trembled under him, your release washing over you in thick, hot waves.

He fucked you through it, groaning low in his throat at the way you squeezed him so tight it bordered on painful.

With a final, stuttering thrust, he came hard, spilling inside you with a rough curse, his forehead dropping to your shoulder as he rode out the aftershocks.

For a long moment, the only sounds were your mingled breathing, the soft rustle of clothes, and the distant rain tapping against the windows.

Kuroo pressed a lazy kiss between your shoulder blades, hands smoothing down your sides in a rare, tender gesture.

“Best… dinner pickup… ever,” he panted against your skin.

You let out a breathless laugh, still half folded over the desk, utterly wrecked.

“You’re… buying dessert,” you managed, voice hoarse.

He chuckled, pulling your jeans up slowly, helping you dress with lingering touches.

“Anything you want, babe,” he said, kissing the back of your neck again, utterly unbothered by the mess around you—completely consumed by you, and only you.

Confessions: Kuroo

You knew the day was going to be shit when your coffee spilled on your white blouse before 9 a.m.

The rest unfolded like a cruel joke—back-to-back meetings that ran long, a snippy email from your supervisor that didn’t even pretend to be polite, and a presentation you’d poured hours into that got brushed aside for a 'more time-sensitive matter.' By 5 p.m., your jaw ached from how tightly you’d been clenching it all day.

So when your phone buzzed, and you saw Kuroo’s name flash across the screen, your thumb hovered over the green icon. You didn’t want to talk. You didn’t want to pretend you were fine. But you answered anyway.

“Hey,” he said, voice low and familiar. There was a pause, like he was listening for something in the silence between you. "You sound like you had a day."

You scoffed. “That obvious?”

“You get all quiet when you’re brooding.”

You didn’t reply. The lump in your throat had nothing to do with him, and everything to do with the way he could read you like this—without even seeing your face.

He waited a beat, then said, “Come out. First round’s on me.”

You started to decline—already in your sweats, already half curled on the couch—but his voice came again, coaxing.

“C’mon, I’ll even let you rant about corporate dysfunction without rolling my eyes this time.”

That got the faintest laugh out of you. And somehow, twenty minutes later, you were walking into the bar you both loved, the one tucked between a bookstore and a stationery shop, dim and warm and a little too familiar.

He was already at your usual table—second from the back, under the shelf with the crooked leg that made drinks tilt if you weren’t careful. Two pints sat on the table, and Kuroo raised one as you approached.

“Still drinkin’ like a college student?” you teased, sliding into the booth across from him.

He grinned. “Nostalgia’s a powerful thing.”

You took the glass, took a long sip, and finally sighed. It hit your system like a balm.

For the next half hour, you vented. About your boss. About the way the office printer hated you. About how you were so close to throwing your laptop out the window, and how nobody respected boundaries anymore.

Kuroo listened, as always. Interjected only when you needed him to. Smiled over the rim of his beer like he could do this for hours.

Eventually, when the flush of alcohol had softened the edges of your irritation, he leaned forward on his elbows.

“You ever think you’re just lonely?”

You blinked. “Excuse me?”

He didn’t flinch. “I mean—you work hard, you don’t really date, you haven’t mentioned anyone in a while. Maybe it’s not just the job. Maybe it’s... everything else, too.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Is this your way of telling me I'm a spinster?”

He laughed, but it sounded slightly forced. “Nah. Just saying, you deserve someone good. Thought about setting you up with a friend.”

You shrugged, looked down into your drink. “I’m not interested in someone else.”

And that was the truth. You hadn’t been, not for a long time. Not since your second year of college, when Kuroo Tetsurou sauntered into your world like he owned the place—with messy hair, too much sarcasm, and the kind of quiet loyalty that wrecked you. He was all sharp teeth and soft heart, and you’d fallen harder than you wanted to admit. But you’d also accepted, long ago, that he probably didn’t see you that way. So you tucked it down. Smiled when he dated other people. Never said a word.

Until tonight.

You hadn’t meant to get drunk. Not really. You’d planned to drink just enough to take the edge off, to let the tension bleed from your muscles after a long, miserable day. But when the bartender mentioned it was two-for-one night, and Kuroo had raised an eyebrow with that stupid, charming grin, it was all too easy to shrug and say yes.

The drinks hit harder than you expected—smoother, easier, and paired with Kuroo’s low voice and quiet laughter, it was easy to lose track. What was supposed to be one drink became two, then three, and suddenly you were warm in all the soft ways that made the world a little blurrier around the edges.

Your limbs felt too light, your thoughts too soft, and every time he said your name, it rang a little louder in your chest. At some point, you’d slumped further into the booth, propping your chin in your hand and blinking slower with each refill.

“Alright,” he said finally, his voice still light but laced with concern as he reached for your nearly empty glass. “You’re cut off.”

You pouted, dragging your eyes up to meet his, but your grin stayed lazy. "Tetsu," you said, drawing out the syllables, “you’re so bossy.”

“Someone’s gotta keep your chaotic ass alive,” he muttered, even as he flagged down the bartender and handed over his card. He didn’t even look at the receipt when it came.

You watched the way his brows knit together slightly, the way he pressed his tongue against his cheek, like he was both irritated and fond at the same time. Familiar. Comforting.

He slid out of the booth and looped your bag over one shoulder, then turned to offer you his hand.

“Let’s go, before you start snoring in public.”

The air outside was crisp. Night had fallen while you were inside, and the chill that hit your cheeks brought a bit of clarity—but not much. You shivered, and Kuroo automatically shrugged off his jacket and draped it over your shoulders.

You didn’t argue. You leaned into his side, let his arm steady you as you walked together down the quiet street. His touch was careful, guiding. You kept catching faint traces of his cologne—clean and woodsy, something subtle but undeniably him.

“You smell good,” you mumbled into the fabric of his shirt.

He let out a soft snort. “Thanks.”

The cab ride was even quieter. Your head lolled gently onto his shoulder. You felt warm, and his shirt was soft, and you couldn’t stop your lips from parting with sleepy little compliments.

“I like your voice,” you whispered.

He glanced down at you, mouth twitching. “You’re gonna regret this tomorrow.”

“Am not,” you slurred. “You're very kissable. Did you know that?”

Kuroo closed his eyes for a second, breathing in through his nose like he was trying very hard not to react. Under his breath, barely audible over the hum of the city outside the cab, he whispered, "God, it's me again. Let her remember this so I can see the look on her face tomorrow."

When you arrived at his apartment, he paid the driver with one hand and guided you out with the other, keeping his hold steady on your waist. You stumbled once on the sidewalk and clutched at his hoodie.

“Easy,” he murmured, his fingers tightening just a little.

His apartment was dark and quiet when you entered. He didn’t bother with the lights—just led you toward the couch by memory, his hand never leaving yours. You swayed a little as you collapsed onto the cushions, blinking up at him.

“Always takin’ care of me,” you said, voice soft and blurred at the edges. “You’re good at that.”

Kuroo crouched to untie your shoes, brows drawn. “Well, someone’s gotta keep you upright.”

You leaned forward, still gripping the front of his hoodie, and he didn’t pull away. Your eyes met his, blurry but intent, and your lips quirked upward.

“I love you, you know.”

Kuroo froze.

The words were slurred but clear enough to punch the breath out of him.

Your voice dropped lower, more sincere. “I love you. Since the moment I saw you.”

He stopped breathing.

His hands hovered mid-motion over your shoes, his fingers curled like they forgot what they were doing. Slowly, carefully, he lifted his head to look at you.

“What?”

But your head tipped back onto the couch, your eyes fluttering shut.

“I love you,” you repeated, softer this time. “I’ve always loved you.”

“Wait—” he tried again, voice sharper now, a tremor hidden underneath.

But your breathing was already evening out, lips slightly parted, lashes resting against your cheeks. You were out cold.

Kuroo knelt there for a long moment, just staring. The words still rang in his ears, ricocheting through his ribs like they didn’t quite belong to reality.

He sat back slowly, knees folding underneath him, and pressed the heels of his hands to his eyes. Then he dragged his fingers through his hair and stood up, walking into the kitchen without really seeing.

The quiet of the apartment wrapped around him like a weight.

“…Whoa.”

--

The morning comes slowly, dragging a dull headache and a dry mouth with it.

You blink against the sunlight bleeding through unfamiliar curtains, your body heavy, brain sluggish. There’s the faint hum of a coffee machine somewhere nearby. The smell is strong and bitter and achingly welcome.

It takes you a minute to remember where you are. The couch. Kuroo’s apartment. The drinks. Your stomach twists as snippets of the night flicker back—his arm around your waist, the way he guided you up the stairs, the sound of his laugh.

You sit up with a groan, head pounding as the room spins for a second. Your clothes are wrinkled, your mouth tastes awful, and your memories are slippery at best. But when you swing your legs off the couch and catch sight of him—Kuroo, in the kitchen, hair messy, hoodie sleeves shoved up as he stirs something in a mug—you feel it.

That deep, crawling dread.

He looks over as you shuffle in, blinking groggily. “Morning, sunshine.”

You grunt, dragging yourself to the counter as he slides a mug across to you without a word. You catch it with both hands, the warmth seeping into your skin. It’s blessedly hot. And quiet.

You sip slowly, staring into the cup, your head still throbbing. The silence stretches. He doesn’t speak. Just leans against the counter and sips from his own mug like this is normal. Like you didn’t say something earth-shattering last night.

Eventually, he breaks it. “You remember anything from last night?”

You blink, then close your eyes for a second, willing your sluggish brain to scroll back through the hazy reel of the evening. “We went to the bar,” you murmur slowly. “You were already there when I came in. There was a drink waiting. A pint—of course. I think I complained about work for forty-five minutes straight.”

You pause to take a sip of coffee, your eyes still narrowed in concentration.

“I had the first two drinks faster than I should have. You were teasing me about my tolerance—"

You stop.

The cab. His jacket. His arm around your waist. The stairs.

“Oh my god,” you whisper, a spike of panic hitting your chest. “And you helped me back to your pla—OH MY GOD.”

Kuroo raises a brow, trying—failing—to hide the smirk that curls onto his face.

You set the mug down a little too hard. "I didn't mean it," you blurt, voice too high. "I mean—I was drunk. Very drunk. You know how I get, right? I say stupid things, I—"

You wave a hand vaguely in the air, flushing deeper. "It didn’t mean anything. I mean, obviously I care about you, we’ve always been really good friends, and I didn’t—"

Your words trip over themselves like dominoes, spiraling into panic as you try to claw your way out of whatever you admitted the night before. Your face is on fire, your fingers drumming anxiously against the side of your mug.

And Kuroo just watches you, quietly amused. Something fond in his eyes. Like he’s letting you run your mouth on purpose.

Then he sets down his cup, crosses the space between you, and gently cups your face in his hands.

You freeze.

“And here I was thinking I’d break first,” he says, voice low and warm.

You stare at him, mouth parted, utterly lost.

“…But you wanted to set me up…?” you whisper, your voice cracking mid-sentence.

He huffs a laugh, brushing his thumb over your cheek. “Oh, screw that. You’re mine now.”

You blink up at him, blinking hard like your brain is trying to keep up. “Wait, you mean that?”

He nods slowly, his hands still cradling your face. “I do. I meant it last night, too. You passed out before I could say anything, but I meant to.”

There’s a pause, the kind that’s too soft to be awkward—just full of all the things that didn’t have time to be said. “I’ve loved you for a long time,” he adds quietly, voice going a little rough at the edges. “Guess I just needed you to drunkenly beat me to it.”

The laugh that slips out of you is half a breath and half a sob, surprised and stunned and disbelieving. “Oh my god.”

He grins, leaning his forehead against yours for a second, and the two of you just stand there, smiling quietly into each other like the world finally makes sense.

Then you squeeze his hands once, step back with a wince, and say, “I’m going to go throw up.”

He lets go of you immediately, one eyebrow lifting. “From excitement?”

You’re already wobbling toward the bathroom, one hand raised in defeat. “Alcohol poisoning.”

He leans against the counter, grinning to himself. “Yeah, that too.”

Pregnancy: Kuroo (NSFW)

You’re not sure when it started. Maybe sometime last week, maybe even before that—but the switch flipped quietly, without warning. One minute you were just a little tired, a little bloated, trying to get comfortable with the weird limbo that is second trimester pregnancy. And the next?

You were staring at your husband like he was carved from marble. Like every movement of his arms under that damn fitted black t-shirt was offensive. Like the way his voice dipped when he answered a work call should be punishable by law.

You hadn’t touched him in days—partly because you were tired, partly because the two of you were still adjusting to the wave of appointments and vitamins and new routines. But now, now your skin feels too tight for your body. You can’t stop thinking about his hands. His stupid smirk. The stretch of muscle across his stomach when he reaches for the top shelf. You keep shifting in your chair at the kitchen table, thighs pressed together as you half-watch him move around the apartment, trying not to combust every time he bends to grab something or stretches his arms over his head like a personal attack.

You're four months pregnant, and your hormones are holding you hostage.

But how the hell are you supposed to say that? Hey honey, I want you so bad it’s making me delusional? You’re turning me on just by walking?

You'd rather burst into flames.

So instead, you sit quietly, pretending to scroll through your phone while your eyes flicker up to him every ten seconds like a heat-seeking missile. You’re trying to be subtle. You really are.

Unfortunately for you, Kuroo Tetsurou has known you long enough to spot a mood shift from fifty paces away—and he’s been watching. Smugly. Patiently. Waiting.

The first hint that you’ve been caught comes when he strolls by with a bowl of chopped strawberries, casually plucks one from the bowl, and leans over to offer it to you without a word. You’re caught off guard, lips parting automatically as he feeds it to you. Your teeth graze the tip of his fingers, just barely, and his lips twitch.

He doesn’t move. Just watches you chew. Slow. Calm.

Then, in a voice dipped in dry amusement: “You’ve been staring at me for twenty minutes.”

You blink, swallow. “I haven’t.”

“Mm,” he hums, straightening up. “Sure you haven’t.”

You grit your teeth. Heat burns your cheeks. You can already feel the spiral beginning.

He doesn’t press. Just walks around the kitchen like he didn’t just call you out for mentally undressing him on the spot. His movements are so casual it’s infuriating. He grabs a dish towel, wipes down the counter, opens the fridge, all while your brain is on fire.

You stare down at your phone, eyes unfocused, and will yourself to get it together. You just need to act normal. You’re not gonna combust. It’s fine. It’s just hormones.

“You okay?” he asks, voice far too neutral. You glance up. He’s leaning against the counter now, arms crossed over that broad chest, eyebrow lifted in feigned innocence.

“Yeah. Why?”

“You’re flushed.” His head tilts. “You hot?”

“I’m fine.”

“You sure?”

You shift in your seat, pressing your knees together. “Yes.”

Another pause. Then:

“You hungry?”

Your eyes shoot to him instinctively—and that’s when you realize he knows. Not just suspects. Not maybe. Knows.

And worse: he’s enjoying it.

Your mouth opens, but no sound comes out. You look away again, hands gripping your phone like it might save you from yourself.

When he crosses the room, you don’t even notice until he’s crouching beside your chair, resting one arm on the armrest, the other hand brushing lightly over your thigh. You freeze.

“Sweetheart,” he says, voice dipped in syrup, eyes glinting with something dangerous, “you’ve been lookin’ at me like you want to climb me.”

You blink rapidly. “That’s not—”

“You sigh every time I stretch.” His fingers trace up to your knee. “You squirm when I talk. You’ve eaten, slept, and had your iron supplements. So unless there’s a sudden new strawberry emergency—”

“Tetsuro.”

“—I think,” he murmurs, leaning closer, “there’s something you’re not saying.”

You bury your face in your hands, groaning into your palms. “This is so embarrassing.”

He laughs softly, warm breath fanning over your shoulder as he presses a kiss to your temple. “It’s adorable.”

“It’s feral, Tetsu. I feel like a monster.”

“Monsters don’t look at me like that,” he says, voice low against your skin. “They don’t whimper every time I bend over.”

You groan louder, but your body leans into him on instinct.

“Say it,” he teases. “C’mon. Say you want me.”

“I hate you.”

“You want me.”

“I’m four months pregnant and deranged, don’t flatter yourself.”

“Oh, baby,” he grins, pulling you gently into his lap, “you’re carrying my kid and horny for me? I’m the luckiest bastard alive.”

Mortified beyond recovery, you squirm your way out of his lap, muttering something unintelligible as you bolt from the kitchen. It’s half an attempt to escape, half a desperate grab for your dignity. You make it three steps into the hallway before you hear him laugh—low and knowing—and then feel his hands at your hips.

“Where d’you think you’re going?” he murmurs, lips brushing the curve of your ear as he tugs you back against him. “You’re not getting away from me after saying all that.”

You fumble for a response, but it vanishes the second his hands find the hem of your shirt, fingertips grazing your skin with unbearable slowness. You tilt your head back without thinking, breath catching.

“Tetsurou—”

“Yeah?” he answers, already kissing down your neck, voice infuriatingly calm. “Say the word, and I’ll stop.”

You don’t. You can’t.

Instead, your hands find his wrists and guide them higher. You melt into him like wax to flame.

“Good girl,” he breathes against your jaw. “That’s more like it.”

Before you can catch your breath, he has you gently turned, your back pressing against the hallway wall. His hands settle firmly on your hips, then slide lower, fingers working with a confidence that has your knees buckling. You gasp when he pops the button of your pants, the sound deafening in the quiet space between your bodies.

“Tetsurou—”

“Shh,” he murmurs, his lips brushing over your collarbone with the lightest graze, voice so low and deliberate it sends a pulse through your spine. His hand dips beneath the waistband of your underwear with a languid slowness, his knuckles dragging along your skin like he wants you to feel everything.

“Let me take care of you, yeah? You’ve been trying so hard to hold it together.”

You inhale sharply as his fingers slide deeper, seeking out the ache you’ve been trying to ignore for days. When he finds it—you—it’s like your body short-circuits. Your breath stutters, hips jolting forward as if your body’s been waiting for this exact moment, this exact touch.

His fingers move with maddening precision—expert and unhurried—stroking you in a rhythm that melts the strength from your knees. He presses you harder into the wall, not with force but weight, anchoring you there while your body twists and trembles under his control. His mouth trails along your neck, slow kisses blooming across your pulse point as you gasp, the sound catching in your throat.

"Just relax, sweetheart," he murmurs, his breath hot against your skin, "Let me make it better."

Your hands cling to his arms, fingers digging into his sleeves as your body arches into him. The tension coils tighter and tighter, strung high by weeks of restrained want, the heat of your own embarrassment fueling the need. He murmurs low praise into your skin—good girl, so soft, so perfect, so fucking sweet like this—and the words alone nearly undo you.

And when you do come, it’s a quiet, raw thing—your body trembling in his hold, face tucked against his shoulder, a muffled cry of Tetsurou slipping from your lips like confession. He holds you steady through it, one arm around your waist, the other still curled low, fingers easing you through every last tremor.

When your breathing slows, when the fog begins to lift, his hand gently slips free and he cradles your face, brushing back damp strands of hair with the same fingers that just unraveled you.

“God, you’re perfect,” he whispers, his forehead resting against yours. “My gorgeous, needy wife. All mine.”

Your breath comes out in short, shaky bursts, still reeling, still trembling in his hands. “I can’t believe I—” you start, but the words collapse in your throat, too breathless, too flustered to finish.

Tetsurou chuckles softly, and before you can even think about collecting yourself, he’s hooking one arm under your knees and the other behind your back, lifting you with effortless strength.

You yelp, arms flying around his neck as he princess carries you down the hallway, your face burning hot against his shoulder. “Tetsu—! What are you doing?!”

He glances down at you, grin smug, eyes molten. “You didn’t think we were done, did you?” he murmurs, already walking with you in his arms toward the bedroom. His voice is velvet and heat, wrapped around every word, promising more. “I’ve got you all night, baby. You’re not going anywhere.”

Husbandry: Kuroo (NSFW)

Kuroo’s grandparents’ house was packed. The warm hum of conversation filled every corner, blending with the occasional burst of laughter and the distant sound of kids squealing as they ran through the hallways. His entire family had gathered for his grandfather’s birthday, a rare full-family event that happened maybe once a year.

The kitchen was a flurry of activity, aunts swapping recipes and gossip over steaming dishes while his uncles gathered around the dining table, engaged in heated debates over sports. Kuroo’s grandmother had you both cornered earlier, asking—no, demanding—when you two planned on giving her great-grandchildren, and before you could even attempt an answer, Kuroo had expertly steered the conversation to something else, saving you from the relentless interrogation.

You had smiled, nodded, played your role as the perfect daughter-in-law, but after hours of dodging prying questions and smiling at distant relatives whose names you barely remembered, you were in desperate need of a break. The stuffy warmth of the crowded living room and the persistent hum of voices pressing in from all sides made escape your only option.

So, you slipped into the bathroom, shutting the door behind you with a quiet sigh, pressing your hands against the sink. A deep breath, a few moments to yourself—that was all you needed. A little peace, a little space, a moment where you weren’t being eyed like a future baby-making machine.

Then, a few minutes later, the door clicked open again.

You barely had time to turn before Kuroo slipped in, shutting it behind him.

Your eyes widened. "What are you—"

"Let’s fuck."

You blinked. "Wow. How romantic. You really know how to set the mood, Tetsurō. Maybe light a candle next time? Play some soft jazz?"

His smirk was slow, lazy, dangerous. "Oh, I’d play something, alright. But I don’t think you’d be able to focus on the music."

You scoffed, folding your arms. "Tetsurō, we’re at your grandparent’s house. At a family event. With people literally roaming the halls. But sure, let’s add public indecency to our marriage résumé. That'll really impress your grandma."

He leaned in, pressing his hands against the sink behind you, caging you in. “And?”

Your heart pounded. “And it’s a terrible idea.”

Kuroo tilted his head, eyes gleaming. “You remember that bet we made a few weeks ago?”

Your stomach dropped.

Of course, you remembered. Some stupid, petty argument over who could name more world capitals or something equally dumb. You lost.

And Kuroo? He said he’d save his favor for the right moment.

This was apparently it.

“Tetsurō.” You crossed your arms, trying to look firm despite the way your pulse hammered in your throat. “Absolutely not.”

He grinned. “You agreed to the deal.”

“I didn’t think you’d cash it in like this!”

He hummed, tilting his head. “Well, it’s the perfect time. No one even notices we’re gone.”

You opened your mouth to protest, but the second his hands slid down to your waist, his fingers pressing into your hips, his body heat radiating against yours—

Your resolve crumbled.

“You wouldn’t.”

Kuroo leaned in, lips brushing your ear. “Oh, I would.”

And with the way he was pressing into you, his hands gripping you like he’d already won— you weren’t entirely sure you wanted to stop him.

His fingers trailed lower, teasing, playful, pressing into the fabric of your dress just enough to make you gasp. “You know, I was gonna save this for something special, but…” he exhaled against your neck, his voice dark, teasing. “I think you’d rather pay up right now, wouldn’t you?”

Your breath hitched, hands coming up to push against his chest—half-heartedly. “Your Mother is outside.”

His smirk deepened. “And? No one’s paying attention.”

“Tetsurō—”

“Shhh,” he murmured, fingers curling beneath your chin, tilting your face up. His lips hovered over yours, barely brushing, mocking. “You’re acting like you don’t want this.”

Your skin burned, and you cursed how easily he could unravel you. The worst part? He knew it. He knew you’d fold for him, knew exactly how to make your body betray you.

“Tell me you don’t want me,” he murmured, lips pressing just beneath your ear, his breath hot and slow.

You swallowed hard. “Tetsu—”

His hands slid further down, gripping your hips, pulling you against him. “Say it, baby. Say you don’t want me to touch you.”

You couldn’t.

Your fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt, your resolve slipping further with every second.

Kuroo chuckled, the sound low and full of satisfaction. “That’s what I thought.”

His hands slipped beneath the hem of your dress, slow and deliberate, fingers tracing along the sensitive skin of your thighs. “You’re already getting warm, baby,” he whispered. “You sure you wanna keep resisting me?”

You clenched your jaw, trying to fight the way your body shuddered under his touch.

You parted your lips, ready to say something—anything—but the moment his fingers pressed just a little higher, your breath hitched, and you knew you were done for.

Kuroo’s smirk widened. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

And then, he kissed you.

Deep, slow, devouring.

Your back hit the bathroom counter, your arms winding around his neck as he took his time, teasing you, making you fall apart without even trying.

“We have to be quiet,” he whispered against your lips.

And with the way he was dragging you under, drowning you in heat, in want, in him— you knew that was going to be impossible.

But instead of answering, you simply nodded, your breath uneven, your body already melting against him. His eyes darkened at your silent surrender, and before you could process it, you were kissing him again—deeper, more desperate, all hesitation gone.

His hands moved instantly, slipping further beneath your skirt, his fingers tracing the sensitive skin of your inner thigh, teasing, waiting. "That's my girl," he murmured against your lips, his grip tightening as he pressed you harder against the counter. "Now, let's see how well you can keep quiet."

His fingers slid between your thighs, parting them just enough before slipping under your underwear, skimming over your warmth with a featherlight touch. You sucked in a sharp breath, your hands gripping the sink behind you as he chuckled low against your lips. "Already so warm for me, baby."

You bit down on your lip as his fingers pressed in, slow but firm, stretching you just enough to make your legs shake. He worked you open with practiced ease, his other hand wrapping around your hip to hold you still as your body responded to every precise curl of his fingers.

A whimper nearly escaped your lips, but you slapped a hand over your mouth, eyes widening as you remembered where you were.

Kuroo smirked, dark and wicked, his fingers moving faster, his thumb circling that sensitive spot that had your stomach tightening. "That’s it," he whispered, nipping at your jaw. "Keep quiet for me. You don’t want anyone to hear, do you?"

You shook your head, muffled sounds slipping between your fingers as your thighs trembled around his hand. He was relentless, teasing, playing, knowing exactly how to push you to the edge without letting you go over.

Then, just as your breath hitched, just as your body started to tighten around his fingers, he withdrew.

You let out a desperate, choked sound, but before you could protest, you felt the unmistakable press of him against you. Hot. Hard. Teasing.

He groaned as he rubbed himself against your entrance, just barely pushing the tip inside before pulling away.

"Shit—you're shaking, baby," he whispered, his voice rough, strained with control. "You want it that bad, huh?"

Before you could answer, he grabbed your thighs, lifting you effortlessly onto the sink. The cool porcelain against your skin sent a shiver up your spine, but it was nothing compared to the way he slotted himself between your legs, teasing you further as he lined himself up.

"Hold on to me," he muttered, voice thick with hunger.

Your arms wrapped around his neck just as he pushed inside, slow but deliberate, stretching you inch by inch. A strangled moan built in your throat, but you barely bit it back, eyes fluttering shut as he bottomed out, filling you completely.

His fingers dug into your hips, holding you in place as he started to move, deep and steady at first, but quickly growing more desperate. His breath was hot against your neck, each groan rumbling through his chest as he thrust into you, the wet sound of skin against skin mixing with your ragged breathing.

Your legs tightened around his waist, pulling him in deeper, chasing the edge that was already creeping up on you. His hand snuck between your bodies, fingers finding that sensitive spot, circling, pressing, sending white-hot pleasure straight to your core.

"T-Tetsu—" you gasped, one hand flying to your mouth as your body trembled around him.

"That’s it," he groaned, fucking into you harder, faster. "Come for me, baby. Let me feel it."

You were right there, so close, when—

Knock. Knock.

Your eyes shot open, panic freezing you in place.

"Tetsurō?" came the unmistakable voice of his older sister from the other side of the door. "Are you in there?"

Kuroo barely faltered, grinning like the devil as he stilled inside you, pressing his forehead against yours.

"Yeah, be out in a sec," he called back easily, voice steady despite the fact that he was currently buried inside you.

His sister huffed. "Hurry up, it's time for cake. Also, where’s your wife?"

Your breath caught, but Kuroo? Unbothered.

"Dunno," he lied smoothly, thrusting into you just once, slow and teasing. "Maybe she got lost."

You bit your lip, glaring at him, nails digging into his shoulders.

His sister sighed. "Whatever. Just get your ass out here."

The second her footsteps faded down the hall, you swatted his arm, chest heaving.

"You are unbelievable."

Kuroo grinned, pulling back only to slam into you again, harder this time, forcing a muffled cry from your lips. Your arms tightened around his shoulders, nails pressing into his skin as your entire body clenched around him.

"That’s right," he whispered against your ear, his pace unrelenting, each thrust sharp and punishing. "You're shaking so much—gonna act like you don’t love this? Like you don’t get off on almost getting caught?"

You tried to glare at him, but with the way his cock was hitting that perfect spot inside you, all you could do was shudder, mouth parting in helpless gasps.

"Yeah, that’s what I thought," he taunted, watching the way your body twitched under him, the way you clung to him like you needed him to keep you from falling apart.

His fingers slid back between your legs, finding your swollen, desperate clit, rubbing it in slow, teasing circles. The sudden sensation sent a jolt of pleasure up your spine, and you bit down hard on your own hand to keep from crying out.

"That close already?" he murmured, feeling the way your walls fluttered around him, the way your legs trembled around his waist. "Bet you love this, don’t you? Letting me fuck you like this when anyone could walk in."

You tried to protest, but all that came out was a broken moan, breathless and wrecked.

Kuroo chuckled, breath hot against your cheek. "No snarky comeback? No sarcasm? Baby, you’re too far gone to even argue, huh?"

His words only pushed you further, the tension inside you winding impossibly tight. His thrusts grew sharper, his fingers working you relentlessly until you finally shattered, your entire body convulsing as pleasure crashed over you.

Your orgasm triggered his, his rhythm stuttering as he groaned low against your skin, spilling deep inside you.

For a long moment, the only sound in the bathroom was your combined heavy breathing, the weight of what just happened settling between you.

Then, Kuroo smirked, pressing one last slow kiss to your jaw. "See? That wasn’t so bad, was it?"

You barely had the strength to lift your head, your breath still coming in heavy, uneven pants. Swallowing hard, you managed to rasp, "Never again."

Kuroo only chuckled, brushing his lips against your temple before pulling back. "Come on, there's cake."

You groaned, still trying to reassemble your thoughts, your body tingling with the aftershocks of pleasure. With shaky hands, you reached down, pulling up your panties—now soaked with his release—and quickly adjusted your dress, trying to look at least somewhat composed before stepping back out into the party.

Kuroo, the smug bastard, was already fixing his shirt, completely unbothered, his smirk not fading for even a second as he reached for the door handle. "Think Grandma will notice how wrecked you look?"

You swatted at him, glaring. "Shut up, Tetsurō."

But as you stepped out, legs still wobbly, Kuroo just shot you a knowing grin. "Too late. You already look guilty."

Rivals: Kuroo Pt. 2

The office buzzed with the sounds of people wrapping up their day—chairs rolling back, papers shuffling, conversations turning light and easy as employees grabbed their things and made for the exit. The hum of voices filled the space as groups gathered near the doors, excitedly chatting about after-work drinks, dinner plans, or simply the bliss of heading home.

You forced a tight smile as you exchanged goodbyes, nodding along as a coworker clapped you on the shoulder, laughing about how you were always working too hard. If only they knew. If only they realized that, while they were off unwinding at some izakaya, you were about to be trapped in a nightmare.

The moment the last of them walked out, the heavy glass doors swinging shut behind them, your smile dropped. You exhaled sharply, shutting your office door with more force than necessary before leaning against it, letting your frustration take full hold. The walls muffled the distant chatter of people heading to the elevators, but all you could hear was the pounding of your own irritation.

This is ridiculous.

This is so, so ridiculous.

You should have been out there with them. Should have been free from all this nonsense. But no—because of him, you were stuck here, hunched over a campaign that never should have made it past a brainstorming session.

There was no way in hell you were about to march down to Kuroo’s office and work beside him like some cooperative pair. If you had to see his face right now, you might actually punch him, and that would be hard to explain to HR.

So, you settled for the only tolerable option: virtual communication.

You pulled up the campaign document and began typing out edits, slashing through the legal landmines Kuroo had casually placed like a menace. Your comments were pointed, efficient, and—fine—maybe a little passive-aggressive.

“You can’t claim this product ‘enhances’ anything without direct, proven research. I assume you don’t have a scientific study hidden somewhere? No? Then take it out.”

“This violates four separate consumer protection laws. FOUR, Kuroo. Are you collecting them like trophies?”

“You know full well we can’t guarantee these results. Unless you have psychic abilities, this has to go.”

It didn’t take long before Kuroo’s own comments started popping up.

“Trophies? I was thinking of making a bingo card.”

“No psychic abilities, but I do predict you’re going to keep glaring at your screen like that for another ten minutes before you take a break.”

You clenched your jaw, fingers hovering over the keyboard as his infuriatingly smug tone bled through even in text form.

But at least this way, you didn’t have to hear his voice. Didn’t have to see that lazy grin or the way he leaned against desks like he was permanently comfortable in any given space.

The two of you went back and forth like that for a while—your frustrations fueling your edits, his infuriating commentary punctuating them like some editorial nightmare.

Then, suddenly—

He stopped responding.

You frowned, staring at the document, watching the cursor blink mockingly. Five minutes passed. Then ten.

Was he ignoring you? Giving up?

You tapped your pen against your desk, debating whether you cared enough to message him first, when—

A knock sounded at your door.

Before you could even react, it swung open, and there he was—Kuroo Tetsurou, in the flesh.

His lean frame filled the doorway, one hand resting against the frame like he owned the place. He had his signature smirk in place, but there was something else in his expression too—something entertained, something knowing.

"Miss me?" he drawled, eyes flickering over your stiff posture, your clenched jaw. "You looked like you were having so much fun talking to me virtually, I figured you’d want the full experience."

You inhaled through your nose, already feeling the blood pressure spike.

You exhaled sharply, leveling him with a flat stare. "I figured there’d be less opportunity for violence."

And honestly, that wasn’t even a joke. The amount of restraint it had taken not to march down to his office and rip that smirk off his face with sheer force was immeasurable. You had chosen the safer option—the one where you didn’t have to look at him, hear him, or risk throwing a stapler at his head. And yet, here he was, standing in your doorway like he had been summoned from hell itself to personally test your patience.

He was insufferable. Smug, self-assured, a walking headache in human form. And if there was one thing you knew about Kuroo Tetsurou, it was that he never did anything without a reason. If he was here, standing in your office when you had both agreed to keep this virtual, then that meant—

Oh god. He had something planned.

Your fingers twitched, already anticipating whatever bullshit he was about to pull.

Kuroo chuckled, raising his hands in surrender. "I come in peace. And—" he paused, reaching into his bag, and before you could stop yourself, your eyes followed the movement.

Your breath caught when he pulled out an expensive-looking bottle of liquor. Not the cheap stuff you’d grab from a convenience store, but something premium, something that had been picked out with actual effort.

"—with a peace offering," he finished, his smirk tilting just enough to make your stomach twist.

You narrowed your eyes, suspicion lacing your thoughts as you stared at the bottle.

Was this a trick? Some underhanded play? He was good, you had to admit that—good at worming his way under your skin, good at making you react, good at playing you like a game he had already won.

Your pride warred with your exhaustion. The righteous fury you had been carrying all day was begging you to tell him to take his bottle and shove it where the sun didn’t shine. But then reality settled in.

You were going to be here for hours.

With him.

Your head throbbed at the thought, and suddenly, the idea of a drink didn’t seem so bad.

You sighed, rubbing your temple before muttering, "Let me get glasses."

As you turned toward the office cabinet where you kept miscellaneous supplies, including the occasional emergency stash of glassware, you heard the unmistakable sound of Kuroo grinning. Smug. Bastard.

"Well, that was easy," he mused, leaning lazily against the doorframe. "Didn’t think you indulged while working."

You shot him a sharp glare as you pulled out two glasses. "Well, I would've been at the bar by now, so consider yourself lucky."

Kuroo snorted, shaking his head. "Hey, blame the boss, not me."

You narrowed your eyes. "If you hadn’t pissed him off with that ridiculous campaign, he wouldn’t have cracked down on us."

Kuroo just grinned, pouring the drinks. "Technicalities, technicalities."

You huffed, shaking your head as you took a sip, feeling the warmth of the alcohol seep into your system. "Focus, Kuroo. We actually need to get this done."

"I am focused," he said, swirling his glass with lazy amusement. "Multitasking. Drinking and working—very efficient."

Rolling your eyes, you dragged your laptop closer, forcing the conversation back on track. Despite his insufferable presence, the two of you made progress, fine-tuning the proposal, fixing the compliance issues, and actually making something presentable.

And, unfortunately, the drinks didn’t stop at just one.

At first, it was just a sip to take the edge off. Then another when Kuroo cracked a joke so unexpectedly funny that even you couldn't suppress a snort. Then another after you argued over phrasing in a particularly stubborn section of the document, only to realize you were both right in different ways. Somewhere along the way, the line between tolerating Kuroo and actually enjoying the banter blurred.

Your body felt warm, pleasantly buzzed as the stress of the day melted away. You stopped feeling the sharp edge of frustration every time he spoke, and—maybe it was the alcohol—but the way he leaned back in his chair, shirt sleeves rolled up, smirk easy and lazy, didn’t seem quite as aggravating as before.

Another drink. Another laugh. Another sidetracked conversation.

Until—

Darkness.

When you blinked your eyes open, you weren’t in your office.

You weren’t even in your apartment.

A sharp, groggy awareness hit you all at once as you registered the unfamiliar ceiling above you, the soft sheets against your skin, the distinct lack of a work desk or legal documents anywhere in sight. And then—

The realization slammed into you like a freight train.

You were naked.

Your body stiffened, the cool air against your bare skin making it impossible to ignore the fact that you had absolutely nothing on beneath the sheets. Panic surged through you in waves, your mind scrambling to piece together what the hell had happened last night.

Then came the real kicker—the slow, steady sound of breathing beside you.

Heart hammering, you turned your head—and there, lying next to you, Kuroo Tetsurou.

Still asleep. Still shirtless. Still in his bed.

Oh, hell no.

Your breath caught in your throat as fragmented flashes of the night before flickered through your mind—hazy, disjointed, but unmistakable.

Your hands gripping his shirt, pulling him closer as your lips crashed against his. The low groan in his throat as he deepened the kiss, his hands gripping your waist, his touch feverish, desperate. The feeling of his fingers dragging down your spine, his mouth trailing along your neck, leaving marks you probably still had.

Your voice—breathless, needy—whispering his first name like a secret. "Tetsurou..."

The way he murmured your name against your skin, his breath hot and ragged. His body pressing against yours, strong, unrelenting, claiming every inch of you. The undeniable fire between you, building, burning, until there was nothing left but the desperate need to consume each other.

Another flash—

Your head tilting back, a gasp leaving your lips as his mouth devoured the sensitive skin of your throat. The way his voice turned hoarse, possessive, when he whispered in your ear, "You drive me insane."

Your body arching into him, nails raking down his back, every touch sending electric heat through your veins. The sound of the sheets rustling, the deep gravel of his moan, the feeling of being completely, utterly unraveled beneath him.

And then—

Your legs wrapped around his waist, his gritted teeth against your shoulder, his grip bruising as he held you still, his body pressing into yours with a hunger that felt like it would break you apart. The way he cursed under his breath, muttering something too low to fully remember, but you knew it was about you—about how good you felt, how much he wanted you.

Your own voice, breaking on a whimper, a moan, pleading—

"Tetsurou—"

You sucked in a sharp breath, your eyes wide as your pulse pounded violently in your ears. No. No, no, no.

Your entire body tensed, your fingers gripping the sheets as if that alone could ground you. You felt too warm, too aware, heat crawling up your spine as your skin tingled with the ghosts of his touch.

What the hell had you done?

A fresh wave of panic surged through you as you peeked beneath the sheets, confirming what you already knew. Your clothes were nowhere in sight.

You squeezed your eyes shut for half a second, willing yourself to wake up from whatever twisted fever dream this was—but when you reopened them, Kuroo was still there, breathing evenly, looking far too comfortable in his sleep.

Your stomach twisted as your brain scrambled for something—anything—that could explain how this had happened. You had been working. You had been arguing. And then there had been drinks, and—

Your fingers pressed against your temples.

You weren’t an idiot. You knew exactly how this had happened.

You had slept with Kuroo Tetsurou.

And the worst part? The way your body still thrummed with the memory of it.

Shit. Shit, shit, shit.

This wasn’t just some nightmare. This was real.

And you were absolutely screwed.

Heart pounding, you slowly—carefully—peeled the sheets away, trying to move as silently as possible. You needed to find your clothes. Now. Every fiber of your being screamed at you to get out before Kuroo woke up and made this entire situation even more unbearable.

Your eyes darted around the room, scanning for any sign of your belongings. You spotted your shirt draped over the back of a chair, your underwear crumpled on the floor near the bed. No sign of your pants.

Biting your lip, you held your breath and gingerly slid out of the bed, wincing as the mattress shifted beneath you. You crept forward, grabbing your shirt first, hurriedly clutching it to your chest as you crouched down to retrieve your underwear.

Just as you were about to reach for them—

"Mornin', sunshine."

You yelped, stumbling back against the nightstand, your grip tightening around your shirt as you clutched it against your bare chest. Your wide, panicked eyes shot toward the bed where Kuroo was now very much awake, watching you with groggy amusement. His voice was still thick with sleep, deep and gravelly in a way that sent an unwanted shiver down your spine.

"God, you scared the shit out of me!" you snapped, still holding your shirt up like a makeshift shield.

Kuroo’s lips twitched, clearly enjoying this far too much. He stretched, arms reaching over his head, the sheets slipping just enough to reveal more bare skin than you needed to see this early in the morning. His messy hair somehow looked even worse than usual, and yet—

You shook your head violently, banishing whatever treacherous thought had just formed.

"Trying to sneak out?" he mused, his golden eyes glinting with amusement as he propped himself up on one elbow. "Rude."

You opened your mouth, then shut it, feeling heat creep up your neck. "I don't—I mean—did we—?"

Kuroo chuckled, the sound deep and lazy, sending a fresh wave of mortification through you. "Oh yeah. Several times." He tilted his head slightly, watching as your grip on your shirt tightened. "You were quite eager."

Your face burned, the words hitting you like a wrecking ball to the soul. "Oh my god," you muttered, squeezing your eyes shut for a second, as if that would make the entire situation disappear.

Kuroo smirked wider, clearly relishing your reaction. "I gotta say, I didn’t know you had it in you."

You snapped your eyes open, glaring daggers at him, your heart still pounding a million miles an hour. "Shut up, Kuroo. Just—shut up."

"Oh, but you weren’t saying that last night," he teased, stretching lazily, the motion making his muscles flex in an unfairly distracting way. "In fact, if I recall correctly, you were saying—"

"Don’t. You. Dare."

His grin widened. "Tetsurou—please—" he mimicked in a high-pitched voice, clearly enjoying this too much.

You grabbed the nearest pillow and launched it at his face. "I hate you."

He caught it with ease, laughing. "Hate me? That's funny, 'cause last night, you were—"

You groaned, pressing your palm against your face, praying for the ground to swallow you whole.

"I'm leaving." You turned sharply, spotting your pants halfway across the damn room, and cursed under your breath.

Kuroo only hummed, watching you scramble with amusement. "Sure you don’t wanna stay for round…what was it? Five?"

You threw another pillow at him. "I swear to god, Kuroo—"

His laughter followed you as you yanked your pants on, still red-faced, still mortified beyond belief.

You snatched up the rest of your belongings—your shoes, your bag, even the stray hair tie that had somehow ended up on his nightstand—moving so quickly you nearly tripped in your haste. Every second in this room was a second too long, every moment spent within Kuroo’s amused, knowing gaze only fueling the burning humiliation in your chest.

As you shoved your arms through your sleeves, pulling your shirt over your head, Kuroo propped himself up on one elbow, watching you with the kind of infuriating satisfaction that made you want to launch something heavier than a pillow at him.

"See you Monday," he drawled, voice thick with teasing amusement.

You shot him a withering glare, but it only made his smirk widen. Without another word, you turned on your heel and stormed out, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a response.

You could still hear his low chuckle as you slammed the door behind you.

Favourite Positions: Kuroo

Of all the ways Kuroo liked to fuck you, reverse cowgirl had to be his favorite.

Not just because of the way your body looked—though, fuck, he could watch you like this forever. The curve of your spine, the dip of your waist, the way your ass bounced each time you dropped down onto his cock. It was hypnotic, the way you moved, rolling your hips slow and deliberate at first, teasing yourself as much as him.

No, what really did it for him was the control. Or, more accurately, the moment you lost it.

"You always start off so cocky," Kuroo mused, voice dark with amusement. His fingers pressed into the flesh of your thighs, stroking, teasing. "Think you’re in charge just ‘cause you’re on top, huh?"

You shot him a look over your shoulder, lips parted, eyes hazy with pleasure. A challenge.

His smirk sharpened.

"Alright, baby, let’s see how long that lasts."

Before you could brace yourself, Kuroo’s hands slid up, gripping your waist, and slammed you down onto his cock. The sudden force had you gasping, your balance breaking as pleasure shot through you like lightning. His grip tightened, holding you still, making you take him deep, making you feel him.

"You good?" he asked, voice low, teasing.

You nodded, already breathless. Already wrecked.

Kuroo chuckled, slow and satisfied. And then he started thrusting up into you.

Hard.

Your hands scrambled for support, nails digging into his knees, a choked cry falling from your lips as he fucked up into you with purpose. There was no rhythm to it, just rough, fast, needy. The sound of skin meeting skin filled the air, your moans turning high-pitched and desperate.

"Yeah, that’s it," he groaned, eyes locked onto the way you shuddered. "Not so cocky now, huh? Feels too fucking good, doesn’t it?"

You tried to say something—tried to hold onto whatever control you thought you had—but all that came out was a whimper, a broken moan of his name.

Kuroo grinned, loving every second of it. Loving the way you completely fell apart for him.

And when he reached between your legs, fingers finding your clit, rubbing quick, tight circles—

You shattered.

Your whole body tensed, a cry ripping from your throat as you clenched down around him, dragging him right over the edge with you. He groaned, deep and guttural, burying himself inside you, grinding up as he came.

For a moment, all that was left was heavy breathing, the rise and fall of your bodies pressed together, the warmth between you both.

Then, Kuroo let out a breathless chuckle, trailing lazy fingers up your spine before giving your ass a playful slap.

"See? Told you I’d win."

"Shut up."

kuroo.bby