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bloomocha · 5 months ago

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❝ ARE WE STILL FRIENDS? (THIS CAN'T END) ❞

ೃ⁀➷ you and kuroo have liked been friends since forever (highschool), but unfortunately, you both are too stupid to realize your feelings for one another. Until you do.

ꨄ︎ paring(s)! kuroo tetsurou x vball player afab!reader , slight sakusa x reader , slight kuroo x oc

ꨄ︎ warnings/content! 18+ content , timeskip! characters , fluff , humor , mutual pinning but both are stupid , friends to lovers , kuroo blabs , semi slow build up , tension , lots of emotions , slight insecure!reader , porn with plot (plot kinda wack) , kinda dom!kuroo , big dick!kuroo , dirty talk , kuroo is kinda a tease , oral ( f&m receiving) , fingering , slight boob play , unprotected sex , multiple orgasms , missionary → mating press (i think that's what its called idk) , not proof read at all LMFAO

ꨄ︎ word count! 26k+ (whoops)

ꨄ︎ author's note! hiii first post to tumblr lol :3 , this def went on longer than I intended (i got carried away whoops) , semi first time writing smut so pls be nice , if any of my tags r wrong feel free to correct me!! the spacing is also a little weird since I uploaded this from computer but I might go back in and fix it laatter ! hope u enjoy and sorry for the wait lol , i ended up in the hospital and got evicted (double whammy) but ayyee its here now !!

11 years ago. April 13th, 2013.

You throw your bag over your shoulder after unloading everything from the trunk of Kuroo’s car. Once the space is clean, he closes the trunk with a gentle thud, breaking the silence of the cool morning, and turns to you to ask, “Is that everything?”

You nod looking down at your luggage and counting while trying to fix the twisted trap of your bag on your shoulder that apparently refuses to cooperate. You fumble with it, frustration building up as you mutter under your breath, “Ugh, why won’t you just…?”

Kuroo laughs as he watches you, he steps closer and reaches out, fixing the strap for you in a fluid motion. It slaps against the hoodie you’re wearing and his fingers graze your shoulder, sending a shiver down your spine.

‘There you go princess,” he says, a soft smile playing on his lips. His touch lingers for a moment longer than necessary before he removes them.

“Thanks, Kuroo,” you say, kicking your feet at the ground. The reality of your situation hasn’t settled in yet and now the moment feels a bit awkward. You pull at the drawstrings of Kuroo’s hoodie, seeking familiarity in it to try and tide your feelings. Your eyes glance over the car, he had only gotten it recently, a gift from his dad for making it into college yet it already held so many of your memories.

The time he spilled coffee on Bokuto during a road trip, when he almost crashed everybody arguing with Bokuto over directions, that one-time Kenma lost a Pokemon game disc resulting in three of you almost riping his car apart to look for it, him nearly running over Komori and Sakusa, Akaashi cursing him out silently for his interesting driving skills, the late night conversations and the silent drives where words weren’t needed, just his presence was enough.

You look back up at him again, everything you want to say gets caught up in your throat, so you have to settle. “I’m going to miss everyone,” you whisper, a lump forming in your throat. The stupid late-night convenience runs, group dinners, and weekend adventures ran through your mind, seeming like nothing but a distant memory. The thought of leaving all that behind weighs heavy on you and at this moment you wonder if you're making the right choice.

You’d been given an offer to join the u19 team, to represent Japan and play other girls around your age who were equally as talented as you were. An opportunity that anybody in your position would kill for, yet as you stand here right now, slight dread courses through you.

The team is leaving for Brazil today to train and practice, and you wonder if there's still time to change your mind. You love the sport, ever since Kuroo helped you find the joy in it again but leaving everything behind, even if just for a while, feels more daunting than ever.

Kuroo notices the look on your face. The way your eyes dart everywhere and the way you fold your lip underneath your teeth, something you always do when you're nervous. He playfully flicks your forehead, causing you to wince and frown at him, “Stop overthinking. You’re gonna do great, just like you always do. And after you win everything, you’ll be back before you know it.”

You give him another shake, trying to absorb all this faith he has in you and the reassurance, but the small piece of doubt still lingers. The entire tournament will only last a few months after the remainder of training and you know you’ll be back once everything is over, but those months seem too long.

He reaches out to take your hand, his thumb tracing comforting circles on the back of it. “I know you’re scared,” he says softly. “It’s okay to be scared. It means you care, and that’s what makes you, you. And I think that’s my favorite part of you.”

Water starts to build up in the corner of your eyes, you try to blink the tears away ultimately failing and ending up quickly wiping them off instead. Not wanting to cry in front of Kuroo again like you did this morning when he found you cuddled up in your bed, not packed at all. “It’s just… what if I can’t do it? What if I fail? I don’t want to be the reason we have to go home early.”

Kuroo pulls you closer, enveloping you in a hug, one that feels like he’s shielding you away from the world. His arms wrap around you tightly, inhaling deeply, like he’s committing the feel and scent of you to memory. “Listen to me,” he murmurs into your hair. “You’ve already accomplished so much to get here. This is just a small step, one that you’re more than prepared for. You aren’t going to be the reason the team gets sent home. And no matter what happens, you have people here that believe in you.”

The words settle into your soul, soothing the frayed edges of your nerves. You return the hug, squeezing him close like he might disappear if you don’t hold him hard enough, you want to remember this feeling and keep him close forever. The fear is still there, but it feels less like your impending doom and more simply like nerves.

“You’re going to be here when I come back right?” you ask him, pulling back slightly, looking up at him with glossy eyes. The sight makes Kuroo melt, he takes a hand that was wrapped around your waist to run a hair through your hair in another soothing manner.

“I would hope so,” you pinch his side and he yelps. “Ow!”

“Don’t tease me right now,” a scowl reaches your face and Kuroo lets out a throaty laugh. A warm smile spreads across his face, “I’ll be right here, waiting for you. Next time I’ll drag Kenma out of bed so he can come join. Oh, and I’ll even invite Bokuto and Akaashi too.”

“Please don’t. Bokuto said he was going to bring a cardboard cut out of my face if I invited him.”

“I know. I saw it.”

A chuckle escapes Kuroo’s lips as you pull back, there's a buzz in your pocket and you dig out your phone only to be met with a bunch of notifications from the team’s group chat. Almost everybody was there, only four players not including you hadn’t made it yet, tucking it back in you look at Kuroo, who’s smiling contently at you.

It was probably time for you to leave now, in case some huge rush comes in and you get stuck in a long line, but you have one more question for him, one that you’ve been itching to ask for no reason other than to test something.

“Hey, Kuroo?” you call, gathering his attention. “Yes?”

“What is it like to fall in love?” you ask, voice barely above a whisper. Heart beating with both anticipation and fear, with hope that he might just tell you what you’re hoping to hear.

The question pierces through him like an arrow, he freezes, confused about why you're asking him that. The question hangs in the air, so thick, that the two of you feel like you are suffocating. Kuroo takes a deep breath and looks away searching for an answer that will suffice. You notice a flicker in his eyes– something unreadable.“I don’t know.”

“Never experienced it.”

A wave of disappointment crashes over you. His answer is polite, almost feels like it’s been rehearsed, but you can sense something is off. His entire tone was off, it shifted to one you know he uses when he’s lying you think. Why does it feel like he's holding something back?

Does Kuroo like somebody? That you don’t know about yet?

The idea hurts, more than the idea of him not liking you back.

You force a smile, trying to mask your disappointment. “Never mind then,” you wave it off with a laugh that sounds hollow to your own ears. “I was just wondering. I wanted some advice that’s all.”

Now it’s his turn to furrow his brows, Kuroo wants to know what you meant? Seeking advice, for what? Is there someone he doesn’t know about?

You watch as something flickers in his eyes but it’s gone before you can truly grasp it. He opens his mouth as if to say something, but then closes it, the words seemingly lost.

The moment feels heavy, pregnant with unspoken emotions and missed connections. It’s as if you're both standing on the edge of an abyss, teetering but afraid of falling. “You should probably go catch your flight.”

He tells you and you realize that a silly amount of time has passed and that he was right, you do need to leave. A part of you wishes that he’d give you something more, more of who it was he’s thinking about, or even a tiny spark that he might like you, but that idea feels more distant now than ever and hope is a fragile thing, and right now, it feels too breakable to cradle.

“Take care, okay. Promise me,” you say, voice as steady as anybody’s who feels like her heart is hurting.

“I promise,” he replies, his eyes never leaving yours. “You take care as well okay? Text me when you land and if you need anything. And come back with stories to tell, for me– Bokuto.”

“I will,” you force a smile, grabbing onto the handles of your luggage, and gathering everything together. You turn to leave, and the path ahead is clear, more clear than ever now, except there's a tinge in your heart. Kuroo doesn’t like you, and that’s clear enough.

He watches you go, you turn around one last time to smile and wave and this time he can tell it’s not forced. He wishes the words didn’t get jumbled in his head, that he actually knew what he felt and Kuroo lets out a shaky breath watching you go. He wonders if things would be different if he knew, and maybe then you wouldn’t be asking him for advice for another guy.

Instead, he tells himself that love is patient, that he will wait for you, even if you never return to him.

As you enter the airport, all you can think is what a lucky girl she is.

And all he can think is how he’s going to murder this guy.

Today had to be perfect.

It was his first time being somewhat in charge of helping to host an event of this size, and god, is Kuroo thankful for his department. He doesn’t know if he could have pulled all this off by himself.

He moves through the expensive hall, eye-catching every detail he can. The venue was a hive of activity, the final touches had been put in place for what was shaping up to be an unforgettable night. This wasn't just any party; this was the prelude to the 2024 Olympics, and Kuroo was there to help, orchestrate an event that would celebrate Japan's proudest athletic traditions and its most promising future stars.

And also, several of the higher board members of the JVA would be making an appearance, so everything had to be proper and to exact perfection. The thought of it alone was making him jittery.

Guests were already pilling inside after taking photos with the paparazzi and posing at the venue's entrance, and Kuroo thought it would be a great idea to make one last round check of everything. It started with the tables, ensuring each one was adorned with elegant centerpieces and meticulously arranged name cards.

He recognized a few names from the other sports, and even vividly remembered that he had collaborated with this one specific lady from another sports department for that one. Each section was divided up randomly, and people from all different sports sat together, but the seating was also strategic, designed to foster conversations and networking among the sponsors, athletes, and other prominent guests. He paused at one table, adjusting a slightly crooked name card, and smiled at the sight of names he recognized.

His old classmates, old teammates, current friends, and the people he currently works with today– the monster generation. The volleyball prodigies, who have encaptured the nation since their high school days, were now the cornerstone of Japan’s Olympic volleyball team.

Kuroo thinks that they were the main selling point of the Olympics, with how popular they all were. He hadn’t even realized how increasingly popular volleyball was becoming, not only in Japan but worldwide until now and the feeling had him buzzing from the inside– it meant that his tactics of getting people interested and hooked on the sport were working.

Moving on, Kuroo hurriedly checked on the musicians who were starting to play up near the stage. Since the event was one of a more sophisticated background, some other member of the hosting community decided on a string quartet, hoping that their serene music would provide a calm atmosphere for the night. Kuroo exchanged a few words with the conductor, confirming the playlist and timing, but he was ushered off by the same lady who was his partner for the planning. Kobayashi Himari told him to go check on the other stuff, as she had told him she got the rest of this covered.

Kuroo laughed but agreed and headed to the bar. He inspected an array of drinks and cocktails that they were offering and specifically designed for tonight, a refreshing mix of sake and citrus, ensuring that they were up to standards. He chatted briefly with the head bartender, emphasizing the importance of swift service without compromising the quality of the drinks. The bar would be one of the evening's focal points, he knew how athletes liked to get when they were celebrated, and Kuroo needed it to be flawless.

The guest list was next on his agenda, He conferred with the team at the entrance as they were helping people, going over the names one last time. They checked and rechecked, but Kuroo’s attention to detail meant he wanted to be absolutely certain that no one was left out or improperly acknowledged. While he was out there, he greeted a few sponsors and celebrities who were heading inside.

His phone buzzed in his pocket, and he checked it to see a confirmation of everything else inside being ready for the night. Only then did he feel his heart rate go down a little. Finally, Kuroo mingled with the rest of the sponsors, thanking them personally for their support. Their contributions were the lifeblood of the event, and Kuroo ensured that they felt appreciated with some usual ego-boosting.

As the evening drew near, Kuroo took a moment to stand back and survey the scene. Everything was in place, every detail meticulously planned. The lights dimmed slightly, casting a warm, inviting glow over the room. The camera crews were set up, capturing every moment for the eager public. Now it was time to let the night unfold in front of him.

Kuroo has never noticed you like this before.

No, who is he kidding? His eyes were on you the moment he saw you step into the venue with your team, after the paparazzi photos. You looked drop-dead gorgeous, makeup done, extenuating your pretty features, your hair shinned and flowed effortlessly down your back, and don’t even get him started on your outfit.

The white champagne dress clings to your body nicely, the creamish color emits a slight glow due to the dim lights of the venue, and it hugs your curves in all the right areas, practically exposing you to all the guests in the room, he doesn’t like that but it’s not his place to say. After all, he’s just a friend.

His eyes move with your figure, and Kuroo watches how you interact with a few sponsors, all smiles, showing off your perfect teeth, and laughing at their jokes. He wonders if they’re as funny as you make them look, or if you’re just laughing to be courteous. He watches as you talk with your teammates, listening to one of them complain about whatever, you offer them a gleeful smile and pat her back reassuringly before heading off into the crowd once more.

His eyes follow just like before, you have this aura about you, one that’s been dragging him in since he met you in high school, one that causes him to notice all the little things about you. Just like how he notices how the dress might be a tad too long for you, the fabric getting caught in your sharp heels, how the bag that came with your outfit is bothering you, he sees how you look around for your nametag on one of the tables to put it down, and most importantly, he can see the way you limp.

He wonders how they even got you into those heels, you’d always complain about how they gave you blisters but maybe it was the nature of the event that had your manager forcing you into them. You would never wear them willingly, he bet you put up a fight. Kuroo can imagine the pout on your face, your bottom lip jutting out a little further as your manager lectures you on why the heels are an important part of your image this evening.

Kuroo wonders if you are limping because of the pain, was it the wrong size? Or was it because of the blisters? Maybe you weren’t used to how tall or how small the heel was. He should have brought extra shoes just in case, for you to wear—

“Kuro..” a voice calls out and the sports promoter remembers where he was and who he was currently talking to. He shifts back to the bar, staring at the drink that now looks slightly watered down, a sign that it’s been sitting there for a minute. Then he turns his head to face his friend, the reason he was at the bar, “Don’t ever invite me to events like this again.”

The dark brunette with fading blonde highlights slouched over the bar, a side of his face smushed into the cold expensive counter as he hosts a brooding look on his face. One Kuroo has seen a lifetime's worth of. “Hey, you need to keep up appearances as a sponsor and the CEO of Bouncing Ball Corp. Besides you were the one who asked to come. What was your excuse? Because you wanted to see a certain someone?”

Kuroo smiles, propping his chin up on his hand and nudging Kenma with the other one. The dark brunette frowns, pink tinting his cheeks–he knows he’s been caught, that he did come out tonight to see a certain someone, but that’s beside the point. “Shut up. I already went around greeting people and it was annoying and a pain in my ass. Besides she’s literally swarmed��can’t you see that?”

Kenma lifted his head up just a smidge, to check if what he was saying was true, and low and behold it was. You stood surrounded by a bunch of other volleyball players, mainly people he recognized like the msby players, Hinata, Kageyama, Komori, and Suna. The rest of them were spread out all around the room socializing with other athletes.

“Hm, haven’t noticed,” Kuroo lies through his teeth. He refuses to look over, trying to get you out of his mind seems impossible tonight. Not like it’s possible any other night. How strange, he thinks, to dream of you even when he is wide awake.

Ever since you moved back to Japan to play in one of the Division 1 teams, you’ve constantly been on his mind. Kuroo hates to say it, but he missed you— and now that he gets to see you almost every day as a member of the JVA, his feelings just keep growing.

Every living moment with you makes his heart beat faster than usual. It reminds him of how he would act in high school, where he would wait for you after school to hang out, go visit your work to bother you, have you come to his school to practice with his team, and the small moments where he’d watch you play games with Kenma and beat him.

He loves reliving those memories because they’re all filled with you.

Quite possibly his favorite thing in the world.

If he had known you coming back would have excited this weird feeling in him again he would’ve stayed as far away from you as possible. Which ultimately wouldn’t be too far, since his job required him to work with your team and because how was he supposed to stay away?

“Seriously?” Kenma scoffs, looking at Kuroo with a knowing look. It’s not like the tall dark down haired man was any bit subtle, and besides, Kenma knows his best friend and he knows you (his other best friend but that’s beside the point). Unfortunately, you both are stupid and idiots.

Every time Kenma has to watch the two of you interact, it’s like he’s watching two people drowning and trying to save each other. It’s unfortunate that his two friends are oblivious and can’t see what’s directly in front of them.

Kuroo frowns at Kenma, taking a drink of whatever was in the cup in front of him. He doesn’t even remember what he ordered but it’s strong and leaves a taste in his mouth, “What do you mean seriously?”

Kenma shrugs, puffing air out of his lips and avoiding Kuroo’s eyes. He can’t help but feel sorry for how dense his friend is.

“Why don’t you go over there and talk to her? Talk to the people you represent, I don’t know,” Kenma suggests, holding his hand out in your path. Kuroo’s eyes follow it until they land on you, this time you're grimacing at something everybody else is laughing at besides Sakusa.

He thinks about it for a moment. Kuroo hasn’t talked to you all night, too busy talking to sponsers, organizing and discussing future collaborations and deals. The only time he engaged with you was a brief text beforehand when you asked him if you should bring a jacket.

“And leave you here all by yourself?” Kuroo turns his head to face his friend who is glaring. “I’m worried if I turn around for a moment you’ll pull out your stupid nintendo and stay stuck in a corner.”

“Sounds like my ideal kind of night. It sucks that I can’t even stream,” Kenma mutters to himself, ignoring the unamused look Kuroo was currently giving him. They both turn to stare at you, admiring how you look, some more than others. Soon enough, you must feel the two sets of eyes on you, because you turn their way, gaze briefing meeting Kuroo’s before switching over to Kenma.

You offer a sweet smile, holding up your hand to wave. Kenma’s nonchalant look changes into a slight smile, while Kuroo sends a sloppy smile your way and blows a kiss. His heart patters in his chest when your smile widens at his silly gesture. He waves you over to them, turns around, and chugs the rest of his drink, hoping to steady his nerves.

As you approached, Kuroo felt a surge of confidence. Maybe it was the success of the evening, maybe it was a couple of drinks he'd already had, but he somehow decided tonight might be the night to make a move on you. Just to test the waters.

But when he turned back, it wasn’t you who stood in front of him, it was Kobayashi Himari. His partner in hosting the event and the brilliant mind who helped him plan everything. She stood there with a light smile, her eyes sparking with mischief. “Hi Kuroo! Long time no see?” she says putting the drink in her hand onto the bar countertop.

“I saw you thirty minutes ago...” He raises an eyebrow, confused. Himari just shrugs, she leans in closer, purring into his ears. “Feels like forever ago. That suit looks amazing on you by the way. The color is… nice. It’s not quite what I had in mind for you though…”

Kuroo smiles, playing along. “Really? What color did you have in mind?” he asks, his tone a bit teasing. Off to the side, Kenma grimaces at the conversation.

Himari pouts playfully, “Something a bit more daring, perhaps? But you do still look good, I have to admit.” She twirls a lock of her hair around her finger, her eyes never leaving him. “And this dress? What do you think?”

“You look great,” Kuroo offers. He can’t lie, Himari has always been a bit of a looker. The dress is different compared to the normal business suits she wears, the ones with the glasses that she’s forfeited for tonight. She easily eases a strong sex appeal, the way she carries herself with extreme confidence. She knows she’s good-looking and uses it to her benefit. Kuroo thinks she is more of a mature and sexy type.

It’s not the answer Himari wants though, Kuroo is oblivious to this, but Kenma catches the slight drop of Himari’s smile. He doesn’t think it’s a pleasant smile, either. Too sharp for his liking. Himari instead of faltering, tries to redeem herself by leaning closer, bending down a bit, giving Kuroo an ‘unintentional’ view of her cleavage. She whispers in his ear, her breath warm against his skin. “You know, we should ditch this party. Go somewhere else maybe..?”

Kenma gags.

Kuroo blinks, taken aback. Why would they do that? He glances around the room, the very room they had both worked so hard to perfect. “Why?” he asks, genuinely confused. He did not stress several weeks of planning and stressing on the small details for it to go to waste. “We’ve put so much work into tonight..” he frowns.

Himari straightens up, her smile never faltering. "Sometimes, Kuroo, it's nice to enjoy the fruits of our labor in a different setting. Just think about it." She winked, then turned as someone called her name from across the room. "I'll be back," she promises, sauntering off to attend to the other guest.

“Please never flirt with her in front of me ever again,” Kenma says, causing Kuroo to look over at him. “That woman is terrifying and not in a good way.”

“Really? That’s just how Himari always is.”

“Yeah maybe if you're a tall, hot, sports promoter named Kuroo Tetsurou…”

“Did you just call me hot?” Kuroo laughs at Kenma rolling his eyes and leans back on the counter. He starts mumbling something incoherent and Kuroo was just about to ask what he was saying until something else entered his view.

Something worth his time.

Kuroo thinks his heart does several flips now that you're here, in front of him. Blessing his eyesight. Your hands are at your side, fidgeting with the silky smooth fabric of your dress, “Wow. Who was that?”

“Who?” Kuroo snaps out of his gaze to ask, following the tilt of your head when it lands on Himari, who is gleefully chatting it up with some sports athletes. “Oh her. That’s Kobayashi Himari– she's the sports promoter of the swim team. Also my partner for helping to host the event. She’s incredible–really helped pull this entire thing together. Don’t know what I would’ve done without her honestly,” he could go on about the woman's accomplishments, despite only working with her recently, she’s a big hot topic within the sports division due to her ability to bring in support to the swim team.

Kuroo hopes to have that type of effect on people one day. You listen carefully, not missing the way he talks about her, his voice full of admiration and your heart unreasonably aches with every word. Himari is beautiful, she excludes a level of maturity and elegance that you worry you’ll never possess. Even the way she walked away was sexy– you couldn’t help but wonder if that was Kuroo’s type. Tall, sexy, and not built like a linebacker.

You feel small in comparison, a stark contrast to Himari’s confident aura. There is even a sense of jealousy that runs through your veins, it’s not justified, Kuroo is not your man no matter how much you want him to be.

Kuroo’s about to add on when Kenma elbows him, signaling to stop. He honestly to God loves his best friend, but damn is Kuroo so stupid sometimes for the guy who graduated top of his entire class.

He takes the hint and switches the subject, focusing entirely on you. “Ah, anyways. I didn’t know you were going to wear white. I thought you said you were going to wear black?”

You shake your head, and your hands find your waist over the dress, smoothing it over, attempting to fix your already perfect appearance. “I originally was going too, but the team stylist said I would look better in brighter colors, so we settled on this dress.”

“I also sent you a message about it a few hours ago... but I think you were too busy setting up to respond,” you grin at him, throwing your hands up in a ridiculous pose, and Kuroo is able to take you in fully. He gives you a warm smile as he admires everything about you, “It looks gorgeous on you. Spin for me?”

Your face lights up at his little request and you do a little twirl, the fabric of your dress flaring out gracefully as you giggle. Kuroo swears his breath catches in his throat while watching you move, it's really tempting to hit Kenma and cover his eyes– so that Kuroo is the only one seeing you like this.

“You are breathtaking, as always of course,” Kuroo hums, reaching a hand out to pull you a bit closer. The hand settles on the lower side of your back, and the warmth it provides excites you, making you rub your thighs together underneath the flow of the dress.

Too busy geeking at how nice Kuroo’s hand feels on you, you almost forget that your other friend is also at the bar, staring at the two of you with a small smile, “Oh! Hi Kenma, almost didn’t recognize you with the suit you had on.”

“Hey pretty,” he greets, straightening up in the bar stool and turning his body towards where you stood in between the two men.

“Pretty?” Kuroo raises an eyebrow at his friend, who shrugs with a sly smirk–one that Kuroo decides he doesn’t like, especially not when it has you smiling like that.

“Didn’t know you owned anything like that in your closet.”

“Haha, very funny Kenma. That’s rich coming from the man who lives, eats, and breathes, in hoodies and sweats. Did you steal that suit?”

“Yes.”

“No, he did not,” Kuroo glares at Kenma, and he just shrugs in return. “I went out and bought that for him. I swear, believe he would’ve walked in here with a hoodie on if I didn’t”

“I probably would have. Dressing up is exhausting.” You nod in agreement, your stylist took around two hours just for the simple attire you were wearing. It was nothing like some of the other female athletes who went all out, you kind of wished you were dressed like them.

Kuroo catches your gaze slipping off him, he watches as you stare at the other women in the room and notices immediately what you’re thinking, you don’t need to express it for him. He knows you. “Stop that,” he says softly, pinching the skin on your back through the silk. “You look gorgeous.”

You stop and stare at him. How does he always know when you're up to something?

He gives you a certain look and you roll your eyes playfully. “So, do you like my new suit?” Kuroo asks, leaning back and showing off the black fitted suit.

“Yes! I see you took my advice!” you squeal, happy that he chose the color you said would look best on him. “It’s so much better than that gray suit you practically wear, every day.”

“My gray suit looks nice, excuse you.”

“I never said it didn’t!”

Your gaze travels all over him, enjoying the view he is giving you. Kuroo had taken off the suit jacket, it was draped over the back of the barstool, leaving him in just the white long-sleeved dress shirt, a black vest, and a red tie. The sleeves of his shirt were rolled up to his elbows, revealing a set of strong forearms, muscles, and several veins.

The sight of him like this sends a flutter down to your stomach.

Out of the corner of your eye, you notice the black ink that decorates his tan skin. It’s a date, in Roman numerals on the inside of his right arm. Something you’ve never seen before, you swear that Kuroo had once said he didn’t like tattoos because of the pain. So why did he have one that was dated so far back?

Was it a lover? It’s from 2012 when he was a senior in high school. Maybe a high school sweetheart? But you knew Kuroo from then and never saw him with any girls. Unless you count Kenma with long hair. Maybe it was that one girl he half mentioned when you left, You want to ask, but figured that if he hasn’t mentioned it– it’s not your place to ask.

Your hands move unconsciously, reaching out to touch the fabric of his vest while thinking about what that tattoo might mean. The action was casual, like a stylist who was making finishing touches to their work, but the way your fingers traced the material and brushed against his body sent a rush of heat through Kuroo. Though your hands weren’t directly on his skin, it still feels that way to him.

His pulse quickens as your touch lingers, your proximity making Kuroo oddly nervous. But of course, you seem to have no idea the actual effect you have on him by standing so close, lost in your own world, in between his legs that are spread on the barstool, lost in the gorgeous details of the vest. It has a slight design going on that nobody would notice unless they were sitting close.

He can smell your perfume, it’s a soft scent that hints on the border of floral but he can for sure confirm it’s strawberry– your signature scent. It envelops him, taking over his senses, the stupid perfume is mixed with something he thinks, it has to be infused, because every time you wear it he swears it overrides everything, everything is just you, you, you.

“So..?” he purrs.

Kuroo’s breath hitches when he looks up at you. Your makeup is flawless, and the colors match perfectly with your skin tone, accentuating your already pretty features. Your eyes sparkle with excitement and it makes his heart churn, you’re so beautiful to him. Your lips, perfectly painted, curve into a small smile.

“I think… You look sexy,” you tell him softly, a little bit too in your feels to care about how you sound. “Yeah? You think so, princess?” The question–or if he even asked a question gets lost on you, the need to just tell him how you feel honestly for once takes over. The adjective doesn’t get lost on him, you’ve never called him sexy and Kuroo isn’t going to lie, your compliment goes straight to his cock and he can feel himself straining in his pants.

He has to readjust himself in the seat to try and relieve the feeling.

God, Kuroo just wants to take you right here. Pick you up and set you firmly on his lap, maybe grind your hips into his until he can feel your pussy throbbing against his cock, make you beg for him to put it inside, he’d tease you, possibly take it slow until you can’t handle it anymore. Make up for lost time and then he’d pound that sweet cunt until all you can think about is his cock sliding in and out of you. Till he successfully fucks you dumb and your whining and begging with tears in your eyes, telling him how much you love the way he feels, and how you want more.

If the venue was empty, he would bend you over the bar, take you from behind with his hand wrapped firmly around your throat, he’d—

“Hey yn, we have to go. Speeches are about to start soon,” a voice snaps him out of his disgusting thoughts, ones he shouldn’t be having about his best friend. “Hm? Oh! Okay, coming,” you grin his way and then back out between Kuroo’s leg, you pat his hair, ruffling it a bit saying goodbye, and then you wave to Kenma who messes up your hair. “I’ll be back!” you whisper as if it’s some secret you're not allowed to share.

Kuroo hates Sakusa Kiyoomi– spoiler alert, no he doesn’t. Not when the guy brings in views due to his good looks and talents he doesn’t, but at this moment, watching how Sakusa pulls you away with a hand on your waist, he just might. He watches as the fucker pulls you closer to his body and how his grip on your waistline tightens.

Sakusa even has the audacity to lean down and whisper something into your ear. Something that has you tensing, your back muscles tightening up as you move uncomfortably and smack Sakusa’s back. The action makes Kuroo smile, but then you lean in to whisper something into the 6’4 Greek god’s ear his smile drops.

He can sense when Kenma is about to say something he’s not going to like, “Don’t,” his friend only snickers and shuts up.

“You both are stupid.”

“No idea what you’re talking about.”

Instead of fussing over the fact that no matter how hard Kuroo tries, he will never be enough for you, he turns to the bar and orders another drink. He sends quick curses to Sakusa until the fruity cocktail gets placed neatly in front of him. He's staring at it about to taste it when a hand settles on his shoulder.

It’s Hinata in his orange glorious self– No Kuroo is not kidding. His suit is literally orange, may somebody fire Hinata’s stylist, “Hey Bossman! Looking great! I just wanted to that that Atsumu and Bokuto broke the chocolate fountain and I had absolutely nothing to do with it.”

Kuroo’s face drops, and he blinks several times, hoping the next words out of Hinata’s mouth are ‘it’s a prank’ but they aren’t. The guy is dead serious, “Are you serious?? How does that happen??”

“No idea, like I said, wasn’t at all involved. Nothing to do with me. Suna is over there filming it–”

“This is why we can’t have nice things,” Kuroo mutters, taking the cocktail down the throat and getting up from his seat, he tells Kenma to watch his stuff. “Hey Kuroo?” Kenma’s voice rings out and he turns around to his friend, “You might want to take care of that before you go...”

Kenma gestures down below and Kuroo’s face falls. He doesn’t even have to look down to know what his friend was mentioning. His lips fall into a thin line and he sighs in defeat, his mood is ruined, his head is hurting at the thought of Atsumu and Bokuto breaking the fountain, and the worst of them all is that he’s still hard. “Right. Thanks.”

The event dreads on after that, one by one, sponsors, professional sports alumni, and various dignitaries took to the stage, their words teetering on the edge of boring and inspirational. Kuroo sat beside Himari, she attempted to talk to him the entire time but for some reason, her words weren’t registering in his ears. They sit near the back, as requested by Kuroo so that he can watch everything from afar to make sure nobody is acting up, it’s also a great opportunity to keep an eye on you.

The table you sit at isn’t too far from his and he thought that would help to relieve his worries but now all he can do is worry about how all these specific volleyball players ended up at the same table–because he doesn’t remember putting them all together like that. In fact, he distinctively remembers separating Bokuto and Hinata.

A realization dawns on him that somebody over there, (Atsumu probably) has changed the place cards around and it has Kuroo wondering when the hell did he find the time to do that? Probably when he was hitting one off in the bathroom thinking of you.

Himari leaned over to Kuroo’s side, peering down at his arms, trying to make some small talk, “Hey, I’ve noticed the tattoo before... What’s the meaning of it?”

Kuroo’s fingers instinctively brushed over the tattoo, a small line of Roman numerals that read VII • XXII • MMXII. It was the same day he had met you at the Shinzen High School training camp and Kuroo remembers that day vividly.

If only you knew how much you’d change the rest of his high school experience and quite frankly his life. You took everything about him, his flaws, his terrible moments, his dramatic moments, his stupid moments, and you welcomed him home with open arms. Invading his heart without making a sound.

You had been so different back then— aloof, detached, seemingly over everything and everyone (it was high school so he couldn’t blame you). You stepped onto the court with an air of indifference, your sharp eyes scanning the room looking for the coach of Karasuno’s team, there was boredom in your eyes that for some reason he couldn’t stand. There was just something about you that drew him in, something beyond how pretty you were and the extreme talent you displayed for the sport.

A spark? Some sport of potential he couldn’t quite define at the time.

As a child, Kuroo had known what he wanted to do. He wanted to bridge the gap between the world and volleyball, making the sport accessible for everyone to enjoy and have fun playing–just as he did. He already knew this was what he wanted, but when you came along, you challenged him in ways no one else had, pushing him to improve his skills on the court and his outlook on life.

Then there had been that one day when you confessed to him that you played volleyball because you were good at it, that there was no enjoyment left in the sport for you, no passion remaining, and that you would probably quit after winning nationals. It was that day when he vowed to make volleyball fun for you, to help you find the joy in the sport that he loved so much, to help you discover yourself as he did.

From that day forward, he tried a bunch of different tactics and set up some really stupid stuff to help. Stuff that you had gotten annoyed at, that you yelled at him for, like that one time he had you–freshman you play with a bunch of college kids who were all men (yea he really regrets that one). But his favorite was when he tricked you into letting him teach you the basics, teaching you techniques that you already knew, and probably knew better than him, but in a way, he felt like he made them feel new and exciting to you. Like it was your first time ever touching a volleyball.

The two of you spent hours inside the gym of your school, on that court with the fading paint, going over drills and exercises that emphasized fun and creativity. Sometimes he would invite Kenma, other times he would invite Bokuto and Akaashi and you all would just play your hearts out until night came and the janitors kicked everybody out.

Kuroo still remembers, when you showed up to his house over the break, with such a beautiful smile he wishes he stared at it more, asking if he could set up those stupid drills and games for you, or if the two of you could just play together. When you asked him that, Kuroo thought his heart would have stopped in his chest. He realized that the way your eyes lit up in enjoyment, he was so deep in his feelings for you.

How he always wanted to see you happy and smiling like that.

Helping you find fun in the sport that you once saw as a requirement was a turning point for Kuroo. He saw how your attitude shifted, how you began to approach volleyball with a newfound enthusiasm. You started to play not because you were good at it but because you loved it.

Watching that transformation was one of the most rewarding experiences of his life, and that sealed the deal for him. Kuroo knew that he wanted to support you while you went pro and wanted to help others find that same joy in volleyball that you and he have discovered, to “lower the net” and make the sport accessible and enjoyable for everyone.

He will forever cherish those moments.

In many ways, your presence in his life was a blessing he never saw coming. You kept him grounded, where he belonged and supported him. His heart knew where he stood, welcoming you in, letting you get comfortable, letting you embrace him, steal his every thought, and make it yours.

Kuroo beams softly as he looks at the tattoo, feeling the weight of years and unspoken truths that it represented. Meeting you had been the beginning of everything for him. This is exactly why he is afraid to make a move, he refuses to let his feelings for you get in the way of your friendship.

With the way he’s looking down at it, Himari can’t help but find herself jealous of the person who’s caught his attention like this. She’s been trying to get with Kuroo for ages, with no advice.

“It’s a secret,” he replies, trying to keep his tone light. Himari raises a brow but laughs, her eyes sparkling with amusement. He gives her a soft smile before looking in your direction, where you sit next to Sakusa, arm on his shoulder, leaning slightly against him at the table.

And then it all bubbles down to moments like these where Kuroo questions his feelings. Not the fact that he likes you–loves you, but where he wonders if he should give up on you. The thought had crossed his mind more times than he cared to admit.

After all, you didn't seem to see him as anything more than a friend, and he wasn't getting any younger. With him being thirty the dating pool twinges as he goes and well— Himari was right here, interested and ready to move forward. She was beautiful, intelligent, and kind—everything he could ask for in a partner. But his heart wasn't in it.

Not only with Himari but with any woman he has tried to date. None of them can replicate the feelings you give him; none of them can and will ever come close to you.

“Ah, I love secrets,” Himari winks at him, and Kuroo thinks the gesture repulses him for a moment. They both wave goodbye when a member of the hosting community excuses himself for a moment, and then her face changes as if she just remembered something.

She leans closer and whispers, "There's an after-party happening later tonight. You should come. I'll send you the address."

Kuroo looks at her, surprised. "An after-party?"

"Yes," she says with a playful look. "It's going to be fun. A more relaxed vibe, just a few of us from the planning team and some of the athletes. You should come. It’ll be a good way to unwind after all of this."

Kuroo purses his lips, hesitating, glancing back over at you. Now you were pointing fingers at Atsumu from where you sat, most likely accusing him of something, and from the looks of it, the platinum blonde was guilty.

The thought of spending more time with Himari, away from the pressures of the event, was tempting. Maybe he really did just needed to give someone else a chance. Kuroo looked back at Himari, who was watching him with hopeful eyes.

"Alright," he agrees. "I'll come."

Himari’s smile widens, in shock. "Great! I'll text you the details."

She moved to mingle with other guests. Maybe tonight was the night to start letting go. If he could give Himari a chance, perhaps he could finally move on from the feelings that had held him captive for so long.

The speeches soon concluded, and the room erupted into applause. Kuroo clapped along, the speeches weren’t as bad as he originally thought. But the event still had a few more hours to go, filled with press talks, socializing, and dancing. After that Kuroo decided to make his rounds, checking in on everybody, the musicians, servers, the bar, and some sponsors.

He currently stands at a table, fixing an off-center centerpiece after talking to the JVA board members, who were very pleased with his performance tonight. He was observing the crowd with a relaxed expression when suddenly he felt a light pressure against his right shoulder.

Kuroo knew exactly who it was. “Hey you,” he says, turning his neck to look down at you and your pouty self. “You okay princess?”

You smile back at him, though your eyes show the fatigue you are trying desperately to hide. “I’m okay. Just tired from all the speeches. They were pretty boring. I think the guy in the blue suit had the best one,” you admitted, still resting your head on his shoulder. You take the opportunity to nuzzle him with your cheeks, accidentally smearing the makeup you had forgotten you were wearing.

The gesture is endearing and despite his white shirt getting messed up in the process, Kuroo finds it adorably cute. “Ah him.. What was that guy’s name? Gojo.. Satoru? I think he’s a big sponsor of your team actually.”

Kuroo remembers the man with the white hair and scary blue eyes, he had greeted him while speeches were starting because that was when he showed up… notoriously late. But when the guy looks like that Kuroo assumes a person can get away with anything. Not to mention but he’s also filthy rich.

“Hmm, he’s nice. Albeit too friendly, but very sweet,” you blinked in agreement. “I don’t know if I’ve mentioned it but Kuroo you did a really good job with tonight.”

“You think so, gorgeous?”

“Yes! I mean have you seen the place?” you point your hand out, gesturing to the big venue all around you.

“I don’t know if I can take credit for eeeeeeverything–”

“Shut up,” Wow. Kuroo thinks that one went straight down his pants. “I know you did most of the work, remember? You kept texting me about it? Either way, you did such an amazing job, everyone looks happy and again, the place is beautiful.”

“Hopefully the JVA people will stop underestimating you now.”

“They’d stop doing that if you’d let me–”

“Not a chance.”

“The idea–”

“Is terrible. Leave it alone,” Kuroo laughs, watching you wave your finger wave side to side in his face in a gesture that tells him no in all capital letters. He will get you to do it one day.

“At least think about it?” he asks.

“The idea was thought about and then thrown in the trash,” you tell him moving off his shoulder and leaning against the big round table. You were playing around with the flowers near the plates when Kuroo noticed that you were leaning on one foot. The right ankle is rested on the other one.

“Do you need to sit down? Your foot looks like it’s in pain,” he questions, stuffing his hands in his pants pockets and shifting in front of you just to look down on you with a tilted head. You shake your head and for once Kuroo has a hard time deciphering if you're lying to him or not. This is typical, you often hide your feelings from him–he doesn’t know why or how to get you to stop yet.

You shake your head. “I’m fine, really. But actually, I came over here for a reason. I was thinking maybe we could... leave? Just for a bit?”

Kuroo’s eyes light up at the suggestion. “We won’t be missed for a couple of hours. We could take advantage of that.” He offered her his arm, and they began to walk towards a back entrance where the staff entered from. It was the least monitored area, not that he or you would have to worry about getting into some sort of scandal. Everybody already knew you two were friends from the many interviews and appearances on Kenma’s stream. To the public, you two were just childhood best friends, nothing weird about it.

When Kuroo leaves the venue with you, entering the parking lot it takes a bit to find his car since the area is so full. The valay? workers aren’t there, either of you question it because it allows the two of you to get out unseen. Finding his car was easy, the black sleek exterior just appeared to stick out among all of the other fancy cars, it also helps that the sticker you stuck on the bumper once is still there.

“Nice ride, who did you rob?” you ask him when he opens the door for you to step in the passenger side. Kuroo lifts up your dress so that it doesn’t drag along the possible dirty outside. Once you were settled in the seat, Kuroo reached out, his fingers gently brushing strands of hair away from your face.

Your eyes flutter close at the touch, and he marvels at how serene you appear. With a tender smile, Kuroo closed the door and walked around to the driver’s side, his mind still lingering on the softness of your skin and the warmth in your eyes.

“Fuck off,” he snickers while climbing into the driver's seat. He noticed you watching him, your gaze steady a bit intense.

Kuroo smirked as he let go of the seat belt, letting it hit against the melt in his car, he leaned over the console, moving in close, his face just inches away from yours.

His eyes watch how yours widen momentarily and then close, the way your lips part slightly in anticipation is cute.

Instead of doing what you were expecting, Kuroo’s hand reached for the seatbelt next to your head, yanking on it till it crossed over your chest and buckling you in with a smooth click, and then he leaned back, chuckling at the look of surprise and slight annoyance on your face.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, his voice teasing.

You pout, crossing your arms. “Nothing,” you muttered, tone petulant.

Kuroo couldn’t help but laugh again, the sound warm and genuine, causing you to pout even more and shuffle into a slouched position in the leather seat, “You are impossible, you know that?”

Kuroo grinned, starting the engine and feeling a lightness in his chest. “So I’ve been told,” he replies. He uses one hand to maneuver his way out of the parking plot, he steals another glance at you, your profile illuminated by the city lights as the car enters the main road.

“How much to be my chauffeur?”

“You wouldn’t need to pay me to be your chauffeur, sweetheart. I would do it willingly. Unfortunately.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“Hm, come find out, sweetheart.”

You watch the surroundings of the area while Kuroo pulls into the parking lot. He’s brought you to Tokyo’s biggest fair which only happens around this time of year. Comedic timing huh? It stretches out before you like a vibrant assortment of colors, sounds, and scents. There are lights hooked up above, twinkling in the winding paths, with the window lowered you can hear the distant laughter and chatter from outside.

The car comes to a stop and Kuroo gets out first to help you. He opens the doors, his eyes meeting yours with a playful twinkle, “Do you need to tie up your dress?” he asks, staring down at the fabric meeting the dark concrete. The ground was definitely going to ruin the white color, but you could care less about that, servers your stylist right and when you return it you’ll stick your tongue out at her.

You smooth out the silk, shaking your head. “No I’ll be fine,” you tell him and Kuroo gives you a look, like he knows what you're planning. He probably does.

The two of you step away from the car, the night air carries hints of caramelized sugar and popcorn, ticking your nose with a delightful scent. Kuroo offers you his arm and you take it, the rhythm of your steps falling into harmony as you enter the fair.

“Do you remember this place? It was our first date,” Kuroo states, a little proud of himself for no reason in particular.

You hesitate, a furrow forming between your brows. “First date?” you echo, a touch of confusion in your voice. Yes, you recall the outing, it was one of the very few times you’d ever hung out with a guy before that weren’t your siblings, filled with laughter and no particular expectations.

“That was a date??” you gasp, asking again for clarification.

“You didn’t think it was a date?” Kuroo asks, his face falls in astonishment and you shake your head, confirming that you did not think it was a date. “No?! I thought we were just two friends hanging out!”

“You thought it was just… friends?” he questions, his voice laced with disbelief at what he was hearing. Kuroo stops, turning to face you fully, his dark eyes searching yours for any sort of sign that you were joking. “It was only the two of us. I had everything planned out because I thought it was a date.”

Your heart skips a beat at his candidness. You do remember the effort he put in, but at the time you had chalked it up to his liking to plan down to the smallest detail. During the time, he was sure the two of you hit all the booths he thought you’d like but wasn’t that just because he cared?

“I just assumed you were being you,” you say, your voice feeling smaller now, unsure of what else to offer him.

Kuroo gapes at you, the sudden vulnerability in his expression softening the air around you both. After a beat, he asks quietly, “Did you want it to be a date?”

The question hangs between you like a fragile thread, waiting to be snapped. You pause, the question making your head buzz. It was years ago, could acknowledging that yes, you wanted it to be a date change anything? “Does it even matter anymore?” you finally reply, evasively.

You feel your heart racing, unsure of how to navigate this conversation with him.

The words build an awkward silence that thickens the air. You feel his eyes on you, probing gently but insistently for a truth you aren’t ready to reveal. Your chest tightens with a mixture of fear and unspoken longing and it feels like you’re drinking vinegar out of the bottle.

To break the tension, you point towards a nearby stall, the vibrant colors familiar. “Hey, let’s go check that out,” you suggest, your voice light with forced enthusiasm. Anything to avoid this piercing moment.

Kuroo’s gaze lingers on you for a moment more, filled with questions you aren’t ready to answer. With a slight shake of his head, he relents, his arm guiding you towards the stall. That’s how the two of you find yourselves standing at the jewelry stall, the vendor has a plethora of tiny gem bracelets, necklaces, and even rings with stunning designs, it takes your mind away from the conversation.

Next to you, Kuroo picks up a delicate golden bracelet, its charm shaped like a heart, a perfect fit for you. Your heart flutters as he takes your wrist gently, his fingers brushing against your skin with a touch so soft it sends shivers down your spine. He carefully fastens the bracelet, the cool metal contrasting with the warmth of his touch. You can’t look away from his concentrated expression, and your pulse quickens at the intimacy of the moment.

With a wide grin, he places it around your wrist, his fingers brushing lightly against your skin, sending a cascade of warmth up your arm, leaving a trail of bumps. “It looks perfect on you,” Kuroo murmurs softly, making your heart flutter.

“Are you insinuating that I’m a gold girl and not a silver one?” you say faking offense. The question confuses Kuroo, it’s evident in his face, “Does– Does it matter? I think you look pretty in both..?”

“I can’t believe you don’t know about jewelry theory! How do you gift your girlfriends jewelry?”

“You are the only woman I’m gifting jewelry.”

“oh.”

Despite your protests, he buys you the bracelet anyway. You assume it’s expensive, nothing in Tokyo is cheap– but just the feel of it is what makes you assume so, it’s definitely some sort of authentic, and even if it wasn't– the thought of it has your heart beating faster. Maybe it’s the way Kuroo pulled his card out like it was nothing, waving you off about the price, acting like it was nothing. Perhaps you are crazy.

Thanking him, your voice catches slightly, and you hope he doesn’t hear the tremor of your accelerating heartbeat. After you thank him a hundred times and even offer him the opportunity to take it back and he declines, the two of you continue walking, the evening air turning crisper as the sky darkens. The breeze picks up, lifting strands of your hair and sending chills down your spine.

“Are you cold?” Kuroo asks, concern threading through his voice. It just now dawns on him that you’ve only been walking around with your dress and no cover— he doesn't even recall you having a jacket to begin with. He might have to have a word with your stylist when the night is over.

“No, I’m fine,” you reply quickly, rubbing your arms in a futile attempt to generate warmth. The lie is evident, even to you, but you don’t want to admit your discomfort. It doesn’t bother you to much if you don’t think about it.

Kuroo frowns, watching your movements carefully. “Are you sure?”

Smiling, you shake your head. “Really, Kuroo, I’m not cold.”

With a resigned sigh, he steps behind you. The warmth of his large hands meets your chilled shoulders, making you shiver involuntarily. Your arms are freezing.

“Your shoulders say otherwise,” he murmurs, his voice closer now. The sound of something rustling fills your ears and you turn your head to find Kuroo removing his suit jacket.

Before you can protest, he drapes it over you with careful tenderness, ensuring it covers you fully. The weight and warmth of the coat are immediate, enveloping you like a shield against the night’s chill. Your body reacts on its own, melting into the fabric and letting it engulf your body. He steps in front, his eyes meeting yours with a focused intensity. You feel your cheeks heat up, the closeness of his presence making your heart race more fiercely.

He adjusts the coat, smoothing it over your shoulders and pulling it tight around you. Kuroo buttons up a few of the buttons, leaving the top part of your dress showing, to allow some cool air in. He doesn’t want you to overheat. His fingers brush your skin as he tucks stray strands of hair behind your ear, each touch lingering and deliberate. You realize how close you are, his breath mingling with yours in the cool night air. His eyes, so intently watching you, make it seem like you're the only two people in the bustling fair.

Kuroo smiles softly, his hand squeezing your shoulders, as he steps back reluctantly. “Can’t have you freezing before your big game,” he says, his eyes still holding yours.

“Wow, so you only like me so I can bring in views?” you ask, trying to tease him.

“That and because you play well,” he plays along, making you grin and nudge his shoulder.

The suit jacket settles on your shoulders, the warmth of it feels like an embrace. You knew the suit was going to be good when you picked it out for him and now you get to see it up close. The fabric has a nice smooth texture and not a single string is out of place. It falls past your hands, so much so that your fingers aren’t visible anymore.

The scent of it surrounds you, your favorite scent. A blend of something expensive, understated, and undeniably Kuroo. You take a deep breath, comforted and a little giddy at how it feels and smells.

“You know you’re going to freeze without this,” you tell him, half concerned, half happy he gave it to you.

For some reason, you want to read more into why he gave it to you, why he took the time to make sure you were comfortable and that it fit nicely, but you know Kuroo, and you know this is how he always acts.

Always the gentleman, he’s always making sure everybody is okay, checking in all the time, ensuring that they are comfortable and cared for. He’s always giving his jacket away, so maybe that’s why a part of you doesn’t feel like the gesture can count as anything, whenever somebody wears something too short or forgets to bring something warm, he’s there, giving what he can away to help them.

You're not the exception, you doubt you’ll ever be. He just noticed because that’s who is he, Kuroo Tetsurou who pays attention to the smallest details.

Kuroo Tetsurou who will drop what he’s doing to come to your aid whenever you need it.

The genuine care in his voice sends a warm cascade of feelings through you, even warmer than the coat enveloping your frame.

the two of you continue walking through the thickening crowd.

While Kuroo points out stuff that reminds him of your date, you can’t help but notice the occasional lingering glances people throw his way. It doesn’t surprise you–they’re likely drawn to his tall, striking figure (the words of a magazine, definitely not something to describe you), his suit that highlights his broad shoulders, and your impeccable taste that went along with choosing the suit. .

Kuroo always manages to stand out effortlessly, among the sea of curious and admiring faces, you feel a pang of self-consciousness. Like everyone that looks at him has to look at you, their eyes tearing you apart, judging and inspecting every little thing about you as if you weren’t good enough to be next to him.

Your gaze lifts to him, searching for comfort, and in an instant, you feel like you belong. Kuroo probably feels the harsh grip you have on him because he takes your hand off his sleeve and entertwines it with his own and squeezes, giving you a quick smile before focusing back on the crowd. You feel secure, wrapped in a blanket of warmth yet it was only his hand holding you.

You’ve known Kuroo since high school and thought of him as a pain with how insistent he was with everything. Back then you kept to yourself, played the damn sport because you promised you would, hating every moment of it– until he showed up at your school unexpectedly, demanding that you let him show you the fun in volleyball.

That day in an instant, your heart knew something your mind couldn’t comprehend. He had been nothing more than another face in the back of your mind that you would see at tournaments, on the bus, on the train, at work but now he’s the only face that you seek to see. He’s your anchor whenever the world around you spins out of control.

You never expected to get so attached. He slipped into your life like sunlight streaming through a window, slow and warming, until one day, you realized you couldn’t imagine existing without him. Kuroo gave you something no one else ever had, the feeling of love, of pure, unconditional, affection that made your heart feel both lighter and fuller. He taught you what it was like to be cherished, to be seen for who you were, and loved even more for it. When he looked at you, he didn’t see the struggling girl, he saw you in ways that you hadn’t seen yourself in years— strong, capable, worthy. He gave you peace in a world that constantly demanded more.

Kuroo was the first person to make you feel like you were enough, that you deserved to be loved and wanted. The self-doubt that had built up over the years always seemed to dissipate whenever he held your hand when he would whisper, yell, and shout words of encouragement when he simply stood by your side. The uninterrupted conversations, the silent understanding that needed no words.

Growing up, friends were a fleeting concept, an abstract idea that never solidified into reality for you. Perhaps that’s why the line between liking and loving Kuroo blurred so effortlessly. Your heart, thirsty for genuine connection, latched onto him, mistaking friendship for something deeper, until it was too late. You were already hopelessly, irrevocably in love with him. Entrenched in a love so deep it scared you.

You don’t know if you could ever love someone else the way you love him, with a passion so pure and a devotion so absolute. Your feelings for him are woven into the very fabric of your being. The very thought of anyone else fills you with an emptiness no one could possibly fill. When you glance back at him, Kuroo is already staring back at you with inquisitive eyes as if he’s trying to read what you're thinking.

“What? Is there something on my face?” Kuroo asks, raising an eyebrow.

You shake your head, trying to come up with a response to explain the unwanted and unreasonable staring. “No you’re just ugly,” you tell him and pat his back, providing comfort. Kuroo gives you an invidious look and you have to fight back a smile.

You continue to walk hand in hand with Kuroo past the bustling array of games, it catches you by surprise how each game is the same from all those years ago, and your eyes catch sight of a ballon game. The brightly colored balloons are blown up in a star formation set up in several rows so several people can play at once. Your attention is immediately drawn toward a pink giant stuffed teddy bear displayed among the smaller prizes. There is a pink one and a purple one and it looks like they are holding hands.

“Look at that bear,” you muse, pointing. “It’s so cute! Reminds me of the one you won me when we first came here.”

“You still have that one?” Kuroo chuckles, his eyes following your pointer finger to the bear.

“Duh, of course, I still have it.”

He nods, bringing you over to the vendor, who has already noticed your interest and is looking for an attempted cash grab. “Care for a go?” he asks, a knowing smile tugging it the corners of his lips, thinking he’s gotten another set of victims.

Without hesitating, Kuroo nods. He turns to you with a playful glint in his eyes, his hands tugging up the sleeves of his shirt that had started to fall. You admire his hands as he does it, they’re so big and the action is so casual that it has your mind wondering, “Do you think I’ve still got it?”

You fold your arms and raise an eyebrow, pretending to appraise his biceps. “Probably. With all those muscles you have, you better.”

The vendor hands him a few darts, and you watch from farther back as he effortlessly lines up his first throw. To win, he has to pop the entire thing and can only miss three times, you think it’s a rip-off but won’t say anything since Kuroo is so determined to win.

You might console him if he fails rather than laughing in his face.

The first dart he throws slices through the air and pops a ballon with a precise, satisfying burst. People nearby who were walking started to take notice, almost as if they were cheering him on. One by one, each remaining dart finds it’s target, every ballon popping in quick succession. It was so perfect that even the vendor was taken a back, he couldn’t even rig the game with how impressed he was.

“Don’t miss!” you shout, offering him some support and Kuroo flips you off.

The last ballon bursts before you know it, Kuroo turns to you with a smuggest grin on his face before turning back to tell the vendor which bear he wants. Of course, he gets you the pink one, and he holds it out for you to take. “For you sweetheart,” he says softly.

You take the bear, the fur is soft against your skin and it’s huge, almost as tall as your waist and up. “Thank you,” you whisper, clutching the plush toy to your chest, feeling a warmth spread to your cheeks and through your chest. It reminds you of the way you felt all those years ago when he had first won you a bear, a giddy excitement bubbles up as if you were a school girl all over again.

Clutching the bear tightly, an idea pops into your head, and you find yourself turning to Kuroo with a mischievous grin. “Do you want one too?” you ask, your eyes sparkling.

Surprised, he tilts his head, looking between you and the bear you’ve nestled securely in your arms. “Do you think you can do it?” he asks, amusement laced in his tone. “Last time I checked, you were terrible at darts.”

You gasp, taken aback by his accusation. “How dare you! Playing beer darts does not count. You hit all of them and just left me drunk! That’s why I miss,” you retort, frowning and pressing the bear he just won you against his chest. You step towards the vendor, determined to prove him wrong.

“I wanna have a go,” you announce confidently, too confidently, making Kuroo laugh.

The vendor nods and starts to collect the darts that Kuroo has used. Mimicking Kuroo, you roll up your imaginary sleeves, your eyes have fire in them and you breath in and out. “Stand back,” you tell Kuroo, tossing a glance over your shoulder at him. “Watch me work my magic.”

Kuroo chuckles, the sound filled with affection and amusement, his gaze softening as he watches you. The vendor hands you the darts, their weight unfamiliar in your palm. Trying to recall any tips or techniques, you take a deep breath, aiming carefully at the colorful balloons.

To your astonishment, the first dart flies through, popping a ballon. You blink momentarily stunned, but you quickly regain your composure. You hadn’t expected to hit it, you were actually thinking you were going to miss it.

You channel an inner confidence you didn’t know you had, lining up each dart with a sort of clumsy precision, tossing each of them with your thoughts and prayers and hoping for the best. When the last balloon bursts, you can hardly believe it and neither can Kuroo. He was secretly hoping you’d miss and he’d look cooler.

Your mouth drops open, and you can barely contain your excitement. Suddenly, you're jumping up and down, your excitement bubbling over. “I did it! Look, Kuroo, I fucking did it!” you exclaim, turning towards him with an expression of pure joy and fist bumping the sky. He chuckles at your reaction, loving how wide your smile and the excitement in you.

The vendor hands you the other large bear and you clap your hands happily. Beaming, you swap bears with Kuroo, checking which one is cuter before trading off of course. “I’m actually impressed,” he says, a singular brow raised and the corner of his lip curved upwards as he watches you giggle over the bears. “Have you been playing beer darts without me?”

You shake your head even though you know he’s just joking, “Beginners luck, what can I say? You just suck.” You tell him, lifting your arm up to flex your muscles in his face, “Oh my god. Get away from me,” he shudders, shoving you away with one hand to your face.

Kuroo had led you to an ice cream vendor after you both had looked at almost everything the fair had to offer, just like you did the first time the two of you came together all those years ago. There’s still a family in front of you by the time you get in line, so you take the opportunity to look at the menu, trying to find a flavor you’d like.

“Two cones please,” Kuroo asks, taking out his wallet. “I can pay!” you say eagerly, hoping to pay him back for the bracelet, the ticket, the darts, and everything else he bought you today.

He shoots you a look, one that deflates your happiness and you tuck the wallet back from where it came from. “Forgive me for offering jeez. Can’t a girl pay you back?”

“No, you can’t. Stop trying,” he says while paying for the ice cream. The vendor nods along while you tell him your order and immediately starts scoping.

While you wait Kuroo puts a hand on your shoulder, tugging you closer to him as some people walk by, “Are you excited for the Olympics?”

Your eyes light up. “Yes! I cannot wait to play in Paris. The city of looooove!” you say drawing out the last word as if it alone holds all the romance in the world.

“Is that your only reason?” he asks with a chuckle, admiring the way your eyes widen and twinkle at the mention.

“Of course not! I get to compete and crush the other teams. I actually have high hopes for both the women's and the male teams this year,” you nudge him.

You don’t get to say anything else as the vendor hands you and Kuroo your ice cream cones. He had gotten Chocolate Fudge, a classic. Kuroo likes anything if it has some sort of chocolate in it, he refuses to try any other flavor. On the other hand, you had gotten cookie dough.

“Thank you,” the two of you tell the man before leaving to find a seat.

You make your way through the crowd, following along behind Kuroo’s tall imposing figure. There’s a group of tables nearby that have a beautiful view of the whole fair. The horizon is awash with the twinkling lights of the fair and all its displays.

“Are you not excited to go to the Olympics?” you ask Kuroo, standing next to him as he cleans the seat for you not to ruin your dress. Only once it’s clean to what he thinks is perfection does he allow you to sit, but not before he fixes his suit jacket so that you aren’t at all touching the seat.

He’d hate to see the dress ruined.

Kuroo glances back up at you, “I am excited. I have the team's schedule lined up already. A few sponsor commercials, magazine shoots, video takes, and lots and lots of interviews–”

“Stop right there. I don’t want to hear it,” you groan. The least memorable part of being a celebrity athlete has to be the interviews. You hate them, your team hates them, and you don't know anybody who likes them besides maybe Bokuto, Hinata, and Atsumu, but that's self-explanatory.

The last interview you did left a distasteful feeling in your stomach. The guy was a total jerk, interviewing women just to stroke his ego. He would only ask more personal questions, most of them were about your body and your looks, leaving you uncomfortable the entire time. You didn’t even get to finish it because Kuroo interrupted the interview to yell at the dude and tell him off for wasting everybody's time. You’d never seen him so angry before, he was more angry than you were.

“You asked, princess,” he says, taking a bite out of his ice cream, a habit of his that you hate.

“I’m unasking. Stop telling me.” Kuroo chuckles and you watch him fetch his phone from his pocket, your eyes glance over the name that appears on his screen and your heart hurts.

You’ve been itching to know about his relationship with that woman. If it meant something, Kuroo would have said so, or if he didn’t tell you, he would at least tell Kenma something who then would relay the information to you, but there has been nothing but silence.

The only way you knew about the two of them was from the stupid insider articles that had mentioned the chemistry between them too. Himari was popular in her division, a strong leader with a mature attitude and a gorgeous face.

Kuroo was in a similar predicament. His popularity started in high school and rose when he was featured in one of Kenna’s streams, the fans loved him and people loved him even more when he brought together all the players from your generation, the monster generation in a big group match-up. It was a pro that he was also extremely attractive and charming.

“Do you think we’ll have some off time? In Between games and interviews?” you ask, trying to get his attention again. Hoping you’ll be able to distract him from the fact that the two of you should be returning to the gala any time soon now. You don’t want to leave just yet, just a few more minutes with him alone will suffice.

Kuroo hums, swiping left on the message from Himari and shutting his phone off “Pretty sure you would. Why?”

“Sakusa invited me to hang out with him, but we haven’t decided on a date yet–”

“Sakusa? Wants you to hang out with him?” Kuroo repeats, with a scowl. He fucking knew it. Knew that motherfucker would have made his move soon if he didn’t already, and this was his confirmation. Kenma had warned him about the two of you, but he didn’t believe it.

“Why’d you say it like that?” you respond, raising an eyebrow in surprise that he cut you off.

“Because it’s Sakusa Kiyoomi. He hates doing, I don’t know, everything,” he tried to downplay his concern with a half-heated smile that tugged at the corner of his lips. But jealousy, an unfamiliar yet persistent feeling, was creeping in.

It’s weird for Kuroo. He’s never been jealous of you hanging out with other guys before. The feeling is more of a sad ache in his heart, rather than the raging feeling that is bubbling up inside of him. Maybe it’s the fact that you and Sakusa go way back like your relationship with his was. The two of you went to the same school, you probably spent hours upon hours with him back then. Kuroo took up a lot of your time outside of school, but he will never know what happened during school hours. Or at those training camps, where the two of you were always selected to go together.

For no reason at all, Kuroo feels beyond frustrated.

You laugh, your hair falling over your shoulder softly, it’s halfway accurate. “Those are just rumors. He’s actually really active, Sakusa just likes doing stuff at home. Like last week me, him, Atsumu, Suna, and Osamu had a party at his house. It was really fun.”

So that was why you brushed him and Kenma off that one time. He bites into the cone of his ice cream in frustration at the realization.

“So are you going out with him?” Kuroo asks, his words are quick, almost impatient waiting for an answer. For the first time in Kuroo’s life, he’s felt at a loss for something.

“Huh?” confusion was written all over your face. Where did he even get that idea from.“Going out?”

“Are you two together?”

“Uh no, We’re just friends. You would know if I was going out with anybody.” you narrow your eyes, scrutinizing him, trying to decipher the sudden shift in Kuroo’s demeanor. Confused on why he was asking you this and what he’d hope to get out of it.

“Good, don’t go out with him,” Kuroo tells you, finishing the rest of his cone. It comes off more forcefully than he intended, but he wants you away from Sakusa, as fast as possible. Suddenly the idea of letting you go and move on is no longer an option in his mind.

“What..? Why not?”

“Do you need a reason?” He huffs, looking away from you.

“No… I won’t go out with him if you tell me not to,” you nudge his shoulder with your free hand. “But I would like a reason,” you retort.

His throat tightened. “You’ve listened to me before with other guys. Why not now?”

“Because Sakusa is different,” your voice was steady. Almost defiant.

“If you keep hanging out with him, more articles are going to come out about the two of you,” Kuroo says, trying to keep his tone calm, but the urgency seeped through. A pit was forming in his stomach, and Kuroo couldn’t believe he was actually jealous at the thought of you getting with Sakusa. A sense of dread lingered, one that he couldn’t shale. It felt like he was losing you, piece by piece, with each passing moment and he didn’t know what to do with himself.

“I don’t understand why it’s such a big deal for Sakusa and me to hang out. The articles have always existed, I get shipped with almost everybody else like Hinata, Kenma, and even you. So if the media says Kenma and I are together, would you believe that? See? Maybe—“

And Kuroo feels like if he doesn’t say something now, he might explode. He knows love is patient. He’s been waiting all his life, but if he doesn’t say something now, he feels like he might live the rest of his life in regret.

Fuck what he said about moving on because he simply cannot do it.

It needs to be you.

Kuroo needs you in his life.

He doesn’t want just to be your friend or bestfriend, not an old teammate nor classmate. Not a fleeting memory in the background but as the person she could always turn to without question. The thought of a future where you aren’t by his side, nitpicking at him, complaining, yelling at him for not knowing how to cut fruit, laughing by his side, clinging to him, is one he doesn’t want—a void he couldn’t comprehend.

You're his constant, a lighthouse guiding him through the crashing waves of life. Kuroo can’t imagine navigating life without your light, your laugh, and your endless support. You aren’t just the women he loves; you are his soulmate, the missing piece that’s always been there, what he’s been searching for.

He swallows hard, gathering his thoughts and pushing away any negative thoughts.

“Because I like you. No, no, no, not even that. I’m in love with you.”

“What?”

Your ice cream almost falls out of your hand, and all you can do is turn to Kuroo, looking at him with extreme confusion and utter shock. It feels as if someone has thrown cold water on you.

“I have loved you from the moment you walked into the school gym looking for Karasuno’s coach, from the moment you told me how you felt about volleyball, from the moment you let me into your heart and let me see the side of you that nobody else had seen before.

“It’s always been you. Whenever I see you, my heart speeds up. When we touch, I get this warmth that I can’t explain. My heart feels full whenever I’m in your presence, like it’s about to burst.”

You remain silent, the ice cream in your hand melting and forgotten. Your lips are slightly parted in shock.

“I–”

He continued, not wanting to hear your response regardless of whether you reciprocated his feelings or not. The words just started spilling out like a dam that had finally burst. “I want to live the rest of my with you. I want to wake up next to you and share every tiny moment, every laugh, every tear, every failure with out. I’ve never been more certain about anything in my entire life. “You bring out the best in me, you make me want to be a better man.”

Frozen, you were frozen, body, mind, and everything else. Your heart pounded in your chest a you tried to formulate words, anything, something to tell Kuroo how you felt. The pulse in your body was so loud, drowning out almost everything at the fair.

“Kuroo–”

“Do you remember that one day when you asked me what it feels like to fall in love?” Kuroo asks you, and your eyes drift from the ice cream to him, he meets your gaze instantly only because he is already looking. Looking as if you were the only thing in the world, the only thing worth looking at.

You nod, the day at the airport flooding back in, when you asked that ridiculous question, hoping and praying to make something more out of your friendship. Except you never thought that it would ever come to this.

“I couldn’t answer you back then. I told you it was because I had never experienced love, but it was such a lie,” he huffs. Reaching a hand out to brush your hair from your face so he could see all of you, the person he loved so much that at times his heart felt like it was overflowing.

“Back then, I thought it was normal to feel this way. I thought that friends would make you feel this warm inside, make your heart speed up, make you wish you were always in their presence, make my every living moment seem so significant.”

“But it wasn’t normal. It’s anything but normal actually— this isn’t normal, princess. Nobody jokes around with their friends like we do, the silent glances, secret touches, the compliments, princess.” Kuroo runs a hand through his already messed-up hair, biting his lip softly before continuing.

“You had me going crazy, because nothing we’ve ever done was normal, and you know that, I know you do.”

“I told you I didn’t know what love feels like because all I’ve ever felt was it. I didn’t know what it felt like without it because I’ve always had you,” he confessed, his voice breaking slightly. Kuroo took hold of your hand, squeezing it softly for reassurance that he was doing the right thing. You squeezed back and allowed him to continue, still somewhat in shock that this was happening. “You were always there, and so was my love for you. I didn’t need anything else.”

“I’ve been so afraid of losing you,” he admitted, saying words that the both of you felt. “I thought that admitting how I felt would ruin everything. That I would never be enough for you, that I would hold you back, and the thought of not having you in my life was just too much to bear.”

His hand tightens around yours, “Every single day, I told myself I could live with being just your friend, that it was better to have you close than to risk everything. Every moment with you has been both a blessing and such fucking torment because all I could think about was how much—”

His words were cut off abruptly as you leaned towards him, your lips finding him in a tender kiss. At that moment the world seemed to fade away, and there was only the soft, intoxicating warmth of Kuroo against your skin. It was a soft, tentative kiss– an innocent gesture, like the delicate brush of a butterfly’s wings. Large hands settle themselves firmly on your waist, squeezing softly.

When you finally pull back, your breaths mingled in the scant space between you. Kuroo searched your face for any sign of regret, but only found a reflection of the same emotions that had torn him open. “Thank you,” you smile tenderly, emotions bundling up that it’s hard to speak properly.

“I’m never going to doubt myself ever again,” Kuroo smiles, and it’s so beautiful. Your favorite thing in the world, causing you to giggle at his sentence, silently agreeing with it. “You deserve everything in the world, and I promise I’ll spend the rest of my life showing you that you meant everything to me.”

Tears welled up in your eyes, threatening to spill over. Your lips quivered as you tried to formulate the rush of worlds and feelings swirling inside of you. “I think,” you pause, swallowing hard, struggling to keep your voice steady, “I’ve been waiting to hear you say that since forever. I dreamt about it, thought about it, hoped for it, and now that it’s happened, it seems so unreal.”

You took in a shuddering breath, the reality of the moment hitting you in waves and before you knew it, the tears you were trying to hold but came like a flood. Each one is evidence of the feelings you had tried to keep hidden, to push back, to the unnamed hope you dared to harbor in your heart.

He gently lifts your chin with his fingers, bringing your faces closer until your foreheads touch, the warmth of his skin melting the icy shook that had gripped her. His hands gently wipe away the tears, the touch so light and tender. “It’s very much real, sweetheart,” he murmurs.

Kuroo places his hand behind your head, his fingers threading through your hair, pulling you closer with a soft but insistent pressure. Your lips met again, but this time it wasn’t timid. It was a reaffirmation, a promise sealed by the eagerness in the kiss. Your hands instinctively wrap around the back of his neck, pulling him closer still as if you feared the moment might have been a fleeting dream. He was so real, here, with you. The solidity of him reassured you, grounding you here in this moment. Your heart was pounding, so hard it almost hurt. The realization that your hearts have always gravitated towards each other, just waiting for the right moment.

When you finally broke the kiss again, the two of you were breathing heavily, unable to let go of one another, uncaring of what the people around you were thinking or doing. “I love you, Kuroo Tetsurou,” you whispered. The words felt so right, so perfect coming out of your tongue. The words you’ve been waiting to say forever now but were so afraid to do it.

“I love you too,” he replies, nudging your nose with his as he presses his lips to the corner of your eyes, kissing your tears away. “So much.”

You're practically buzzing. Walking hand in hand with Kuroo, except it feels different now. Your head is resting on his arm, while you're wrapped snugly in his suit coat, feeling like you're on cloud nine as the two of you head out of the fair and towards his car.

Despite having to head back to the gala, you were happier than ever. So overwhelmingly happy that any minor inconvenience paled in comparison to your joy. That’s maybe why you didn’t feel the ache in your foot until now, it was bearable before, but it was starting to get too much to the point where you had to stop and stare down at your feet.

“I think I actually did something to my ankle with those heels,” you whine, staring down at your poor feet in the funky shoes. Your ankle feels like it’s been rubbed raw, and every sudden moment hurts like a bitch.

Kuroo halts immediately, concern etching itself on his face as he rubs at his eyebrows. “Gosh, I knew I should have brought an extra pair for you,” he sighs, frustration in his voice, not at you, but at himself for being so careless. Without wasting another second, he bent down to inspect your foot. One hand lifts the helm of the white dress a little so that the other one can wrap around your foot to inspect it.

You rest one hand on his shoulder to steady yourself, slightly wincing as he feels around the tender skin and when he presses on a certain spot you let out a sharp hiss of pain. “Did that hurt?” he asked but already knew the answer.

“What do you think numbskull?!” you shot back with a pinch to his shoulder. Your retort made him chuckle, the soft laughter vibrating through her fingers and easing some of the tension from the pain.

“Alright, come here,” he says, an affectionate smile lighting up his face. In one smooth motion, he stood up and swept you off your feet carrying you bridal style in his arms. The action was effortless, Kuroo didn’t struggle at all to pick you up. Your heart swelled even more at the gesture.

You looped your arms around his neck, your head resting against the curve of his throat. The closeness was maddening, the gentle sway as he walked, the beating of his heart– the overwhelming feeling was coming back again.

By the time you reached his car, the throbbing had lessened, only due to the lack of usage on your legs. Kuroo eased you into the passenger seat, making sure that your foot was elevated on his dashboard and making sure you were comfortable. Before closing the door, he leaned in, pressing a kiss to your forehead and then to your lips.

Kuroo opens the back door to stuff your matching teddy bears inside, buckling the two of them in together. Once he’s fixed himself in the driver's seat, Kuroo glances over to you with a half smile, “We need to get you home so you can ice it.” He insists, turning the key in the ignition, allowing the car to hum to life.

“But what about the event?” you hop up to ask, face scrunching up when your ankle shifts slightly. Kuroo places a hand on your chest, settling you back down.

You already felt bad for making him ditch earlier to come to the fair, and now you weren’t going back at all? You feel guilty like you're ruining his moment for him to take care of you.

“Could care less. Your injury is more important to me,” he states, like a matter of fact. His eyes meet you briefly before he turns his head back to reverse the car out of the parking spot with one hand.

“But you spent so much time planning–”

“Sweetheart,” he interrupted, his hand gently cupping her cheek. The touch was soothing, a warm wave washing over your troubled heart, making your nerves calm down while also causing your heart to beat faster. You practically melted into his touch, pressing your cheek more firmly against his palm.“You are more important to me than any event or gala. I’d rather spend my time, here, taking care of you, than anywhere else.”

There's no room for any argument after that, he shuts it down with a quick kiss on your lips before he focuses up back on the road. You settle down in the seat eyes watching both Kuroo and the street lights outside as he drives. One hand is settled on your thigh, his fingers subconsciously

“Kuroo I don’t know if you know this. But this is not the way to my place." “I know sweetheart. We are going to mine.”

Arriving at the building, Kuroo parks in his private section, getting out quickly so that he can help you out. He carries you in his arms despite your meek protests, you burry your face in his chest to hide from the people at the desk that Kuroo passes by and greets— even chats with for a second and she greets you in recognition before heading to the elevator and telling the worker his floor number.

It was so embarrassing to be carried up like this, but Kuroo seemed to care less, not finding it troublesome at all.

Once off the elevator Kuroo takes you to his massive door, he puts you down for a moment to pull out his keycard for the door. You're already shoving past him and entering the place, “Home sweet home!”

One step inside and you’ve already forgotten about your injured ankle which is why you almost trip and fall. Luckily Kuroo reaches out, catching you with a firm arm around your waist. “Careful,” he mutters softly into your ear, his voice is a little breathy, probably from having you pressed up against him. Kuroo places a quick kiss on the shell of your ear, causing you to giggle before steadying yourself while he lets you go to lock the door behind him.

You enter the open space more carefully now, as per Kuroo’s request. The open living room space is dark due to the lights being off, but the lights from the city lighten it up and paint a beautiful view through his windows. His place was so sophisticated though currently a little messy, which you bet is due to his consistent planning recently.

Without missing another beat, you made your way to his bedroom and flipped down on Kuroo’s bed with a squeal. You’ve spent countless nights here, when your bed didn’t feel comfy enough or whenever you had gotten lonely in your own home. His was like an escape, probably more of a home than your own.

Kuroo watches you from the doorway, his bigger frame leaning up against the trim watching you sprawl out, his eyes soften at how comfortable you look in his home. It makes his heart swell.

“Your bed is so much more comfier than mine,” you sigh dreamily into his sheet.

“So you’ve said.”

He strides inside his room, heading straight to you, making you sit up with curiosity. Bending down in front of you, his fingers find the straps of your heels, unbuckling them in a gentle manner and sliding them off of your feet.

His warm hands, gently examine your foot now that he has a better view and has you situated in a comfy position.

“That hurts! Are you trying to reinjure me?” you whine and squirm when Kuroo continues to press down on a certain spot, checking to see if your injury is bruised or inflamed or if you hurt it worse by wearing those ridiculous hills today. The complaints leave your lips one by one and Kuroo pays no mind to them, semi-lost in the sight of your lips forming into a pout.

He thinks you're so so adorable.

You look perfect, bathed in the soft light of his penthouse. He’s too distracted, that’s probably why the words leave his mouth before he can register it. “You’re being all cute and sweet, it makes me really want to kiss you.”

The words hang in the air between you two, you seem frozen by them but Kuroo is less fazed and you realize how awestruck he really looks. Your cheeks flush, the heat is evident and your eyes widen in surprise.

That’s why your lips meet again, it’s a soft kiss at first, with an innocent intent behind it. One that becomes ravishing fast, Kuroo tilts his head to get a better angle, his hand sliding up your thigh, your dress, all the way up until it reaches your chest.

You pull back first, out of breath, foreheads touching one another, his cheeks are flushed and you imagine yours are too. “I—” his lips find yours again, tongue sliding against your lower lip then he bites down on the bottom lip, forcing a squeal out of you, that he swallows right up.

He takes the chance and slips his tongue inside your mouth, exploring every crevice he can. The kiss is intense, and passionate, lacking urgency but the fire between you two is there and apparent.The kiss was dizzying and so were the following ones after.

Breaking apart, he places a chaste kiss on your nose and then on your lips. “Tetsurou—” you start but are cut off by Kuroo kissing you, a slow lingering touch. It’s like he is insensible, drunk on the taste of you.

It keeps going like that, the kisses become sloppy and more hungry, Kuroo is grabbing at you and your arm is wrapped around his neck while the other one is tangled into his hair.

He leans into you, slowly pushing you down onto the mattress but when you whimper into a kiss, he recollects himself, trying to tug away but your wrapped arm brings him back every time. “We,” kiss. “Should,” kiss. “Fuck sweetheart—,” kiss. “Stop,” kiss.

“No,” you whisper to him, lips ghosting his. You can practically feel the smirk on his mouth as he urges yours open again. He licks the inside, tongue sliding against yours as he words. “You’re injured.”

“Make me feel better than,” you mumble, allowing your mouths to connect again. Your lips move fluidly on each other, and Kuroo’s fingers trace your jaw. Kuroo chuckles against your lips, a sound you messily suck up, he pulls off to press kisses onto your face, allowing your heart to flutter within your chest.

You look gorgeous like this, swollen lips from all the kissing, hazy doe eyes, waiting for his next move, and your chest heaving so heavily. Such a sight. You’re his sight. A messy one too Kuroo thinks to himself as he wipes a bit of spit from your lips.

He moves to kiss along your jawline, grabbing your chin to keep you in place despite your whines and whimpers. He gets lower and lower until he’s able to lick a stripe up your neck that has you trembling in his gasp. “Tetsurou—”

“Nu uh, sweetheart. You wanted me to make you feel better, yeah?” he responds, continuing to kiss and nibble at your chest.

With Kuroo on top of you like this, you took the opportunity to let your hand wander over his body, touching and squeezing what you could as he proceeded to leave open mouth kisses everywhere on you.

You fiddle with the buttons of his suit jacket, unbuttoning them as you reach down further and further, yanking the vest off and then helping him toss his dress shirt over his head.

From underneath Kuroo, you admire the view. Hands sliding up his stomach, tracing the outlines of his abs, perfect and surprisingly intact, his gorgeous tan skin— his stomach tenses under your touch. Kuroo pants heavily from on top of you, from all the kisses, his hair a mess due to your hands finding their way there, and his face is decorated with red lipstick.

Bringing your lips closer to his face, you press a quick kiss to the cheek, his mouth finding yours, as one of your hands lowers until it comes into contact with his belt. You trace a finger down from his happy trail all the way down to his crotch, cupping the bulge that had formed there.

“Aaah, fuck.” Kuroo hisses when your palm presses up on him. "Feel that? It's just for you, sweetheart.”

Without a second thought, Kuroo gets up and off of you, standing by the edge of the bed before gently dragging you over to him. You giggle in response, liking the view you have of him like this.

“Can I?” you purr, already unbuckling his belt, not waiting for another word. Kuroo chuckles at your eagerness, “Ah— slow down princess.” But you don’t listen to him, already tugging his slacks down after tossing the belt out of your sight.

When you get Kuroo’s boxers down (not very far) you’re too busy marveling at him to do anything. Now, you knew Kuroo was huge, he was already massive in general, and you’ve heard rumors from other girls in his department (he also had a scandal about it) but seeing it in person is so different.

His cock hangs heavy, long and wide, twitching and throbbing, with pearly white precum seeping out of his flush pink tip. There are several veins run up his cock, stopping when they reach the end, Kuroo is leaking so much that you’re afraid it might start dripping onto the floor.

To be frank, his size is intimidating. You haven’t taken anyone near his size, and you haven’t slept with anybody in a while. He was going to rip you apart.

“You gonna stare at it all night sweetheart?” Kuroo asks, a hand finding its way to your head, patting you yet guiding you closer to his cock at the same time.

You swallow the lump in your throat and take a grab at his cock, wrapping your hand around his base, not even covering most of it, and for sure your fingers can’t close around it. Kuroo lets out a low hiss when you squeeze him attentively.

It twitches, more precum leaking out when you start to stroke your fingers in a teasing motion. A laugh escapes your throat at his expression, eyes slant glaring down at you, you can tell he’s about to say something but you shut him up with a kiss to his tip.

You start to pepper tender kisses along his cock, enjoying how it twitches in your smaller grasp, how Kuroo wants to say something so badly, but he knows, he knows he’s huge, so he allows you to take your time to do whatever you want with him. Whatever makes you satisfied he’s happy with, even if he has to put his own pleasure aside.

“Fuuuuck princess,” he groans when you lick a stripe up his length back to the tip, wrapping your mouth around the flushed pink, and slimming your cheeks down in a sucking motion. You take the opportunity to grasp both hands around him, starting up in a stroking motion, twisting and turning gently, causing Kuroo to let out a loud moan and throw his head back.

This must be what heaven is like, Kuroo thinks when you start to take him even further down your throat, inch by inch, flattening your tongue and running it on the underside 0f his cock. He can tell you are struggling, tears are already pricking in your eyes.

“You look so cute struggling on my cock like this sweetheart.”

You're able to get a few more inches of him in your mouth before he hits the back of your throat, forcing you to gag, but not enough for you to pull off. "Oh, you like that?"

A whine escaped from your stuffed mouth, the vibrations moving on Kuroo’s cock made him moan slightly. A bit flustered from his words, you hollow your cheeks and start to bob your head up and down.

The movement is addicting, watching you suck so carefully, Kuroo can tell that you're trying your uttermost best to keep your teeth away from his cock. Though he wouldn’t mind a bit of pain— but that’s for next time. His cheeks are flushed, a dark red hue, that he’s sure looks terribly unflattering on him, but it’s hard to focus when your working magic on his cock like this.

Kuroo fills your mouth so deliciously, cock hogging up every bit of space inside, accidentally hitting the back of your throat every time, you try and push deeper on him. He’s so warm, hot, and heavy on your tongue, and each one of his moans only spurs you on further. “Gosh, princess.”

“F-fuck,” he mumbles softly as you continue to bob your head, the action allows you to feel every bit of him while you suck down on him as hard as possible that your cheeks start to hurt. There’s saliva starting to drip down from your lips, some of it meets with the tears that have started to fall, running your makeup in the process.

Hips softly buck into your mouth, not trying to make you gag, but the pace you’ve set for yourself and him is spurring him on, making him reach his high sooner. The bedroom is filled with dirty, wet sounds, Kuroo’s soft, rough moans combined with the squelching of your mouth on him. “haaahh, you’re doing so well for me, sweetheart.”

You grin up at Kuroo when his hand finds its way to the back of your head, slightly shoving you closer. You don’t allow him to, instead pulling off until your mouth is enclosed around his tip again and swirling it this time, teasing him just to drive him further to insanity and closer to his high.

Kuroo lets out a deep moan when you lick along a specific vein of his before taking him all down your throat in one go, the action has him letting out a plethora of curses, some of which you’ve never heard before. The hand that was gently placed on the back of your head moved again, smoothing away the flyaway hair on your forehead. Through strained eyes and an agape mouth, Kuroo manages to catch sight of you struggling to fit the rest of his cock in your throat.

Such a sight to see. He feels like he’s getting impossibly harder while watching you.

“That’s it, fuck, that’s a good girl.”

You’re forced to settle on the several inches already in your mouth, continuing to bob your head on his length, you find out that Kuroo’s veins are more sensitive than you could have imagined. Every stroke of your tongue or fingers against them has him groaning and bucking his hips into your mouth— just how you want it.

You pick up the pace once you notice him getting closer, an obvious sign due to the high-pitched moans that are dropping from his lips and the way his abdomen clenches and unclenches, it’s a sight to behold to you, as you watch Kuroo’s body shudder and tense. “Fucking hell–” he shudders, throwing his head back and shoving you further down on him.

He works your mouth like that for a little while longer, your throat constricting around him as his warm cum spills down your throat without warning. “Fuck–shit. Sorry about that, sweetheart,” Kuroo says, allowing you to pull your mouth off him. You swallow up every last drop that he gives you, a bit salty. You hum to yourself while wiping off any access and licking it off.

“You’re way too good at that,” Kuroo comments, smiling when you reach up to kiss him. Your lips move rhymaticially and you bite him while pulling off. He helps you off of your knees just to press a few kisses over your messy face, grinning ear to ear at the damage he’s done. “Just for you,” you giggle, kissing him again and allowing him to tilt your head so that he can deepen the kiss that you moan into.

“You want to keep going, princess?”

You nod eagerly, just wanting him to touch you already. So desperate for anything he’d give you.

You allow Kuroo to help you out of your dress, he turns you around, a warm palm coming to gently massage the exposed skin of your back. He works his way up to the straps of your dress, lowering them off your shoulders, pressing sweet kisses to the area where they hindered on your skin, he follows a trail down your back making you shift and arch slightly at the feeling.

Kuroo’s fingers tease your skin softly as he unzips the back portion, allowing the dress to fall down your body, leaving you in your lingerie and exposing you to him. The feeling of being so exposed in front of him is nerve-racking and Kuroo doesn’t help when he’s just looking at you– not saying anything.

Without realizing it, you pressed your thighs together almost instinctively.

“Huh, all pretty up and dolled underneath there,” He says, tracing a pattern up your exposed leg all the way to your underwear. The soft fabric feels nice against his fingertips–definitely something expensive, Kuroo hooks a finger underneath it and tugs a little just to let it slap against your skin, causing you to yelp. “Tetsu–”

He cuts you off, stepping closer to you. Your eyes follow as he towers over you, blocking the already dimmed light from his bedroom, “Who’s this for huh?”

“Sakusa maybe?” His hands start roaming up and down your skin, each touch feels like fire, leaving a shimmering path against your skin. Your eyes shoot open at the mention of your friend, only so that you can glare at him.

“It might–” He continued to move his hand up your inner thigh until it was a few inches from your wet panties without taking his eyes off you.

Kuroo smacks your ass and you let out a loud whimper. He gropes the tender skin with such fervor you start to wonder who is more affected here.

“Who’s it for sweetheart? Who has you wearing such a cute fucking set underneath that sinful dress?”

“You–!” you choke out. “You, Tetsurou. I wore it for you...”

“Good girl,” He smirks at your response before picking you up to gently set you down on the bed, being mindful of your ankle. He positions you so that you are lying on your back, head laid out in between his pillows and your leg resting on his hip.

Your breath hitches as you watch him. The want in your eyes is so abundantly clear to him, that he can practically see the anticipation building withith them every second. His hand moves down to your panties again, the warmth of his fingers ghosting over your sensitive area had your body twitching already.

He sucks in his teeth when his fingers finally touch you– even if it’s only over the fabric.

“You're wet. So fucking wet. I knew it…” His hands, ever so slowly, rub your covered slit, soaking through and you gush even more at the touch. It’s embarrassing how he hasn’t done anything yet, and you're already acting like this. The rough pads of his fingers press at your hole, almost swallowing him inside if not for the barrier of your panties.

He doesn’t stop teasing your entrance, even as his thumb brushes against your fabric-covered clit, Kuroo watches with a predatory gleam in his eyes, closely as you whine and twitch again, your eyes flutter shut at the sweet sensation.

Kuroo must be testing your patience because he refuses to actually touch you. All he does is tease you through your underwear, toying with your entrance as if he wanted to drive you mad off of a few touches. His eyes are completely focused on how you twitch each him he touches you, his teasing, slow touches might just be the death of you. He wants to wait, and savor the moment but you want nothing but for him to stuff you full right now.

“Kuroo fucking Tetsurou if you don’t shove your fingers in my pussy right now I will shove mine up your a—” His smirk grows, and the way your brows furrow in frustration was cute. So cute. It almost made him want to continue to mess around, but for your sake and yours only he seems to oblige.

"Hmm, you're not very patient, are you?" He chuckles, shifting down to press a kiss against your stomach, he keeps kissing your skin until he reaches the skin right before your underwear, and he bites, causing you to yelp and kick at the unexpected touch. His teeth hook on your underwear, lifting up your legs so that he can pull them off of you in one swift go.

You watch him intensely as he goes, the sight is so erotic you can feel yourself tingling.

Kuroo tosses your panties to the side, they get lost in the darkness of the room and he concentrates his attention back to you. You clench around nothing when he whistles at the sight of your exposed glistening area, “Prettiest pussy I’ve ever seen sweetheart.”

“Tetsurou–” you start but are unable to finish when Kuroo spreads you, getting a look at your swollen clit and sopping folds. Kuroo runs a finger up your leaking slit, gathering the wetness and smearing at all over, a soft sigh of relief leaves your throat when he finally starts to touch you.

His thumb catches your clit, he draws small circles around your pulsing nub. The feeling sends a surge of heat up your body, he adds a slight pressure on your hood, dragging it up and down in small but deep movements. “Don’t tease me like that,” you tell him, your bottom lip jutting out.

“Like what?” He purrs, leaning down to press a quick kiss to your lips as if that would satisfy any of your needs. Kuroo starts to pull back when you grip onto his chin, yanking him back down for a sloppy kiss, one that leaves the two of you breathless.

“What do you want sweetheart?” He asks, tilting his head while he looks down on you. When you don’t respond he pinches your clit, exciting a moan out of you.

“Tell me or I can’t do anything.”

“Teturou please please please just touch me. I want your fingers inside, pretty please!” you whine, eyes starting to get glassy while you beg, waiting impatiently for him to do something, “That’s it, princess.”

You grip onto the sheets when he prods at your entrance with his middle finger, he applies a bit of pressure then pulls back, it feels so different when he’s touching you without your panties in the way. That and the fact that you haven’t been fucked in several years, so every touch ignites something in you.

Slowly, his finger sunk into you and a quiet moan escaped your lips. “Fuck, your tight.”

“How are you going to take me like this? Hmm?” Your right thigh closes in, trying to close tha gap in between your legs but you're unable to when Kuroo stops the action with his other hand. “Keep them open,” he warns.

Kuroo sets a slow steady rhythm, watching your face for any discomfort at the stretch. His bottom lip gets caught up in his teeth as he watches your squirm, hips bucking up against his hand, he takes that as a sign to add another finger, the thick digit sinks into you easily.

“Fuck—” you hiss, back arching off the bed in pleasure. His fingers pull out slowly only to push back in with the same speed as before.

The sounds of your moans fill the room easily, they sound pathetic, a bunch of whimpers and barely understandable babbles of “more” and “please”, it has Kuroo chuckling against your heated skin. Every thrust of his fingers has something clenching in the pits of your stomach.

“I’m going to add another one, okay sweetheart?” Kuroo asks for confirmation and you nod eagerly, a string a breathy moans leaving your lips. “Mmmmppffhf—” is all you can get out for him, head thrown back into the pillows he presses another finger inside you and curls them immediately in a way that has you seeing stars.

You don’t even register when his hand slips underneath your back to unclasp your bra, the material quickly gets flung somewhere, probably in the same corner of the room where your panties went. You could care less about it when Kuroo latches his mouth onto your boob, tongue swirling and sucking on your nipple.

It adds to your heightened senses, you gasp when his teeth find their way to your bud, capturing it between them and biting down softly. You let out a loud moan at the feeling. Kuroo’s looking at you from his spot at your boob, enjoying the heavenly view you’ve decided to bless him with. Scrunched up face with your mouth slightly agape as your moans spill out. The sight makes the blood rush to his dick.

There's a euphoric burn in your stomach as Kuroo picks up the pace, continuing until he finds that spot that had you kicking, trying to escape from his grip and the intense feeling overcoming you. It was all so overwhelming — you were right there ... !

Kuroo lets go of your nipple with a final tug, the way you clench around his fingers is a telling sign that you're about to let go all over him. “Wanna cum sweet thing? Yeeahh? Fuck, cum for me, then. Cum all over my fingers like a good fucking girl,” and you do, with a loud moan that Kuro enjoys very much, every part of you lets go and you cum hard. The body-shaking orgasm hits you and leaves you breathless, chest heaving up and down as you twitch and come down from the high.

He brings his fingers out of your cunt and the loss makes you clench around nothing and whimper. A grin makes its way onto his face as he admires the clear sticky material that’s draped on his fingers and he slides two digits into his mouth, sucking your fluid straight off.

“Think you can give me another one?” He asks, bending down and pressing a kiss to your lips. It’s a sweet and gentle one, that doesn’t last long before he’s pulling back, awaiting your answer. “Another one?” you repeat back to him a little breathlessly, allowing your head to move to the side on his pillow.

This man just gave you a groundbreaking orgasm, and he wants to go again? Fuck, he might just be the death of you. “C’mon, I’ll treat you real nice. I just want a taste,” he reasons and you give in, nodding to him.

“Is this ok?” He asks, staring up at you from between your legs. He’s face to face with your pussy and you subconsciously clench at the the fact. “Yes, Tetsu,” you tell him, clenching over nothing but the way he’s staring up at you like you’re his first meal in a while.

Once you give him the green light, Kuroo dives right in. He starts with soft kisses and nibbles up your thigh, tantalizingly close to where you want him that has you squirming. He places a quick kiss on your swollen clit before sucking on it gently. You shudder and let out a breathy moan, heaven to Kuroo’s ears, he lets out a grumble of satisfaction at the sound.

The vibration on your cunt makes you gasp. “You taste like heaven,” Kuroo tells you with his lips wrapped around your sensitive bud. His tongue flattens out, licking several stripes up your slit and then starting to prod at your hole just as his fingers once did, tasting your wetness, humming against you with an eagerness. The vibrations have you squirming around already.

He’s just as much of a messy eater as you expected, tonguing and biting at you like a man in heat, one that’s been starved and deprived of his favorite meal. “Ffff–uck. Mmpffh,” you stuttered as Kuroo sucked and twirled around your pearl before tugging at it gently, leaving sweet kisses all around, lapping up at your arousal, anything he can quite frankly get his hands on.

His arms wrap around your thighs to keep your hips steady and legs open as he works. His tongue flattens against you before the muscle flicks up, tasting you each time. He has your body jerking, hands trying to grab onto his sheets when he swirls his tongue. “T–Tetsurou!”

“Be good, and I'll fuck you.” Kuroo’s tongue dances between your folds, and your hips buck up onto his mouth even as you try to ground yourself to his bed. Hips grinding faster when you feel his tongue nudge at your opening again. You moan loudly, back arching off the bed again, Kuroo hums at the sound, his upper lip fluttering by your clit while the tension inside you starts to build up again.

His movements urge small vocals out of you, tongue delving deeper inside, shoving his nose right up into your folds, the tip of it nudging at your sensitive skin, has you blanking out as you let out an airy moan. He’s upping his efforts now, sucking your clit as his tongue torments it, flicking over the sensitive bud. The sensations from his tongue are proving almost too much for you, and you can feel the tension worsening from your stomach to your toes as your orgasm grows closer.

“You're fucking gorgeous like this,” his voice is muffled, busy by his antics, but you make out the words clearly. “spread out like such a good girl. All for me.”

Hooked on your pleasure, he starts to fuck his tongue into your hole, pressing his face into your pussy. Kuroo’s lost in the taste of you, practically drowning in the feeling and sensation. He wants to bury himself so deep inside of you that Kuroo forgets where he ends and you begin.

It’s obvious with the lewd sounds from his tongue on your cunt and the shudders, gasps, and moans that drop from your mouth. You clunch around his tongue as he continues to fuck inside of you. The feeling so exotic and pleasurable, that you doubt you're going to last long like this. “Wanna cum for me again?”

“Yes yes yes yes yes– please, please. Tetsurou, please,” you shudder and gasp while Kuroo shamelessly eats you out. Dragging his tongue out for a mere second to lick another stripe up your cunt, teasing your nub again, then going straight back into fucking his tongue into you, he curls it up skillfully. The feeling was enough to send you over the edge.

You were a squirming, sticky mess. Your ankles were crossed behind his back, and your only moans grew louder, your body bucking against his mouth, your movements becoming more erratic. Kuroo’s grip on your thighs tightened, making sure to keep you near him as his tongue worked in and out of your dripping hole.

“That’s it sweet thing. Gonna cum for me? All over my tongue? C’mon then.”

And that's all it took for you. Head thrown back, withering and moaning in pleasure as your orgasm hits you like a lightning bolt. Toes curled as your whole body shook, arching off the bed impossibly high, your body tensing and un-tensing under Kuroo’s harsh grip. Your body was contorting before it relaxed, and your breathing returned slowly to normal.

Kuroo watched as you rode out your orgasms, the second one taking more out of you than the first one did. He could tell you were sensitive. “Hmmm, how was that sweetheart?”

“Still feel up to it?” Kuroo asks you while licking the remains of your orgasm off his face. You nod weakly, your body tired from both orgasms he just gave you. A chuckle falls from his lips and then he’s getting up from in between your legs, large hands lifting the bottom half of your body so that your legs are around his waist and you can feel his hard cock up against your thigh. You gasp, hips twitching involuntarily.

A shiver ran through you, and you looked up at him, wide-eyed. Flushed and panting when he asks, “Are you sure about this?” You nod trembling in both nervousness and anticipation. “I’ve never been more sure about anything in my life.”

Kuroo laughs at your sentence, finding it cute and he couldn’t agree more. He bends down to place a smooth kiss on your lips, tilting your head to give him more access. “Just let me know if it’s too much for your ankle or you.”

Even as you sprayed on his bed naked, he’s still worrying about your injury. So sweet, but that’s not what you care about right now. Kuroo takes hold of his cock, lining himself up with your entrance, he taps the tip against your pretty slit a few times before rubbing the head up along your folds, collecting your wetness. “Fuuckk,” he groans watching how it glistens along his dick.

“Stop teasing,” you pout, smacking his arm. “Hurry up and put it in.”

“Jeez, a man can’t enjoy a bit before?”

“No. Put it in.” you hiss at him.

Rolling his eyes Kuroo places the tip of his cock at your weeping hole, he would just have to teach you manners at a later time. You shiver at the sensation of him nudging inside and pulling back, and you felt it immediately when he started to feed you his cock, the stretch extremely overbearing, causing you to girth your teeth and grab onto his buff arms.

He let out a deep groan at how warm and tight you were, gaze flickering back to yours–watching you he felt like he would cum on the spot with that pretty look on your face. Mouth formed into an “o” as your eyes flickered shut and your eyebrows were scrunched.

He should’ve felt bad knowing that he was causing you pain, but you were just so beautiful like this and it seriously felt like you were going to cut off the circulation around his dick with how tight you were. “God– sweetheart you have to relax. Fuck.”

“I’m trying jackass. You wouldn’t like it if I shoved a cock your same size up your ass would you–?” you choke out as he pushes in another inch or two, a soft moan fell from your lips, a mix of pain and a bit of pleasure. Kuroo chuckled, his deep laugh vibrating and causing your pussy to flutter around him, “I wouldn’t but lucky that’s not happening.”

“Don’t fucking temp me Kuroo Tetsurou,” Inch by inch he eased his way inside, pulling back and then pushing a little further. The sensation had your nail digging into his skin as you whimpered at the stretch. You were more than prepared, yet the stretch was still a lot. The sting was nice yet antagonizing. He was truly stretching you out in ways you’ve never experienced before in your life, and you loved it.

“I think you might just clamp my dick off…” Kuroo mumbles off, folding his bottom lip under his teeth. His face fully concentrated on you and your sweet reactions and making sure he didn’t hurt you. Your feet flex and point as you squirm at the feeling of Kuroo sinking in. It almost feels like it’s never-ending, inch by inch he continues to sink inside of your warm cunt and you continue to clench down on him like your life depends on it.“So fucking tight princess.”

“Sucking me in like a vice. You wanted this badly huh?” he hisses when you clench around him again. Kuroo was just so big, too big, but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t like it.

He kept going until he was up to the tilt, your hips meeting together, pausing at being inside you entirely. You huffed, the feeling of being so full unusual for you, you felt like you had just gotten impaled on his cock, stuffed to the brim of no return– and it felt so fucking good. The two of you stayed like that, waiting for you to adjust properly while he peppered tender kisses across your skin.

His cock was throbbing inside of you, hips threatening to pull back and slam into you as hard as possible, but Kuroo knew he had to hold back for his own sake and yours. Not wanting to cum too early and because he wanted to savor the moment as long as possible.

When you grant him the okay, Kuroo pulls out only a bit before pushing back inside with a tentative thrust. “Testu! Fuck–” you whimper, legs shivering again at the pleasure that just shot through your body.

“Want me to keep going?” He asks, only to laugh at how quickly you nod. Your grip on his arms has loosened now– not entirely but not enough to leave a mark on him. Kuroo’s hips move inside you again, his thrusts are slow but harsh as he works you up, his patience holding on by a fine thread.

You let out an airy gasp every time his hips meet yours, the skin slapping against one another filling up the room effortlessly. His groans and low-pitched moans are just as audible as yours. Every stroke of his cock sends both of you over the edge nearing blissfulness. “Too big–” you shudder, trying to hide your face in the crook of his neck when he leans down to be closer to you.

“Wasn’t too big when you–Ah fuck– were trying to stuff my cock–shit, down your throat huh?” he argues, hands running up your sides as he picks up the pace of his thrusts, hitting every single point in your body, causing you to clench tightly around him, forcing a couple of curses out.

Your face quickly morphed into one of pleasure, a look he did not want to miss, not even in a million years. His grip on your waist tightened, he uses his hands to lift the bottom half up so your hips meet his thrusts as he begins to speed up again, finding a steady rhythm this time. “Nngh– Tetsuoru–” your moans only grow louder and louder and that familiar tension starts to build up rapidly.

Kuroo pulls you in, hand gripping your chin lightly and connecting his lips to yours, kissing you with a feverly touch. The head of his cock kisses up against your cervix each time he pushes back in, starting a new pace where he pulls almost all the way out before hitting the tilt again, the contact has your toes curling, coaxing more pretty moans out of your mouth, moans that you don’t even recognize yourself for making. “Mmmmh, so good for me sweetheart. Fuck–”

The edges of his cock rub against your fluttering walls, gushing inside of you, the wet sounds of your hips slapping fills your ears and there’s no hiding anymore, not that you have the energy to do that anyways, all you can do is moan and whine around him. Crumbling to his touch and thrusts.

The pace he’s set is perfect, allowing you to feel and enjoy every single drag of his cock as it goes in and out. The pleasure is almost oppressive, everything feels so good that your having a hard time focusing on anything else but his cock. Kuroo’s grip on your waist is so tight that you’re sure it will leave bruises, not that you mind at all.

“You fit so nicely around my cock, huh? So sweet for letting me take care of you like this," He purrs, enjoying the way your body responds to each stroke he makes, effortlessly hitting all your spots, exploring your body as if it were a reward.

It’s unexpected when Kuroo reaches down, his lips finding your sensitive neck and starting to leave kisses all over it, adding to your heightened senses. Sweet innocent kisses turn into small nibbles being left everywhere, and those small nibbles turn into full-on love bites. Sharp teeth digging into your skin as he sucks harshly, you don’t know if his intent is to leave marks on your body but at the rate Kuroo is going at he surely will leave more than just a few marks.

The tension in your stomach is on the brink of snapping, and you can tell that Kuroo knows, not as if it’s a secret with how you try to hide your face from him, whimpering and chanting his name like it’s a prayer of some sort. “It’s too much–” you cry out, wrapping your arms around his neck and yanking him closer to you. His lips on your neck and the delicious drag of his cock inside your gummy walls– all too overwhelming that it’s hard to even form sentences.

“You can take it—” and the tension that had built up again in your lower stomach snapped, simple, just like that. You clench around him tightly, a high-pitched wail leaving your lips as pleasure overtakes your body for the third time tonight. You are oversensitive, trembling, and gasping as Kuroo continues to thrust inside of you, with absolutely no intention of stopping.

“Haaah– did you just cum? Fuck, that’s so– shit– cute, sweetheart,” a low chuckle leaves his lips.

Without warning, he bends your legs, pressing them to your collarbone and hooking them over his broad shoulders, practically folding you like a pretzel, and Kuroo just loses it. His grip on your thighs gets tighter than you thought was possible as he starts to piston his hips against yours.

“Tetsuoru–!” you yelp at the sudden fast pace. Whines and moans spilling out of your lips like a waterfall. You attempt to slow him down by placing your hands on his pecs, but Kuroo growls at you to take them off and yanks them your hands off himself. “Try that again, and I'll tie them up.”

His gaze drifts to where your cute pussy engulfs his cock every time, and he’s mesmerized at how you can take so much of him. It’s ruthless, the way you swallow his entire cock, Kuroo feels his resolve cracking and his own orgasm approaching, steady and fast. He fucks you thoroughly, giving the both of you pleasure in places neither of you knew existed.

Being pressed directly against him while he thrusts into you feels like a dream. He spreads your legs and little wider, shoving them impossibly closer to your body, and somehow, it feels like it’s going impossibly deeper at this angle, and that’s when he hits it.

“You feel so fucking good. So tight— you’re going to milk me dry like this,” Kuroo murmurs, he squeezes your thighs in reassurance. Giving you a mocking smile while he rolled his hips into you again, the head of his cock brushing against that one spot that had you seeing stars.

He starts to pick up his pace, thrusting harder, eager for you to come again.

Eyes rolled over your body, taking in the obscene image of you. Mascara messed up from your tears, the dark color hindering underneath your eyes, your lipstick was practically gone, Kuroo having kissed it off you and smudging it around your face– He doesn’t think you can get any more beautiful.

He rolls his hips upward, drawing out another whiney moan from a pleasure point that you didn’t even know was there. He begins to pound into it with every thrust he makes, Kuroo bends down, capturing your lips in his mouth. With the sweet moan you make he tugs at your bottom lip, before letting his tongue back into your mouth, swirling your tongues together, gently sucking as he explores the inside of your mouth again.

You shudder and yelp, coil in your stomach nearing its peak again, eyes finding Kuroo’s sly gaze. The eye contact is unwavering, he smirks down at you, sticking his tongue out to wet his bottom lip before tucking it back in.

Sweat drips down his body, giving him a shiny look, his hair is wild, strands stuck to his forehead and you watch as his muscles flex while he hits you with deep, languid strokes. “Doing so good for me baby. You take my cock so well. Almost as if you were fucking made for me,” he coos when you clench and clamp down around his cock, it leaves him groaning lowly, your tight and warm cunt sending him into a damn near frenzy. “Shit, I’m close,”

“Please come in me. I want you to fill me up,” you cry, prying your eyes open to admire the sculpted man above you, taking you as his. Everything felt so good, your eyes started to water, body trembled underneath him. Little did you know how much those words spurred him on, Kuroo was fully ready to pull out of you and cum on your stomach, yet with the permission you just granted him— he was going to make use of it.

He didn’t waste any time, continuing to slam into your cunt, hard and fast. “Yeah? Want me to fill you up? Fuck– you're gonna take my cum like a good girl? Hmm, that’s it, sweetheart,” your body judders with each thrust. Tight walls spasm around his cock, and you cry out at the delicious feeling of him rummaging through you. “Answer me.”

“Hmmmpffhh–” The answer never leaves your mouth when Kuroo grinds his hips against yours, pulling back to slam into you again.

“I’m going to cum,” you whine when Kuroo’s cock brushes up against your sweet spot, every stroke sending electrifying waves through your body. Your insides clench, the coil threatening to snap at any given moment, and your abdomen starts to twitch, tremors leaving your body in the form of sweet cute tears that start to roll down your cheek.

"Almost, pretty girl," His grip tightened on your suspended leg to hold you in place.

Your cries only grew louder as your orgasm approached, body so sensitive, you hiccup as you try to form coherent sentences, trying to tell Kuroo that you really can’t hold on any longer, but all that comes out are clumpy tears, airey moans and silly babbles. Nothing makes sense anymore besides your overbearing need to cum on his cock.

Your thighs twitch, your body trying to pull away from Kuroo as your toes curl at the pleasure, “Testuoruoooooo– please please please— plea–” he thrusts into your sweet spot again, leaving you to blank out on his cock, seeing stars in your vision.

He pulled out nearly all the way before sliding back inside of you, over and over again. There's a white ring of arousal at the base of his hips, he continues his relentless thrusts, the pleasure, the want, the need to cum inside you taking over. Waves of ecstasy crash over the both of you. You can hardly hold yourself back especially when he looks at you like that, talks to you like that, and soon, you’re falling off the edge, crying into his neck, nails raking down his chest, breathlessly chanting Kuroo’s name like a prayer.

“Nnngh– please please! Tetsurou– Ah! Too much–”

His thrusts become more frantic, the sound of your bodies slapping together filling the room once more. One of Kuroo’s hands lets go of your thigh, allowing it to fall back onto his shoulder, only for the hand to find yours and intertwine them together against the soft sheets of his mattress. Leaning down, Kuroo kept up his relentless pace and pressed his soft lips against yours. His lips brush against your ear, his hot breath fanning over the skin. “Just like that. Fuck, you're so perfect. Such a good fucking girl for me.”

You only whimper at his words, you can barely see from the tears in your eyes, you try to turn away from him, but he doesn’t allow it.“Nu-uh, don’t hide from me, princess. I wanna see your cute little face as you cum all over my cock again.”

A strangled cry leaves your throat as your final orgasm rips through you. You pant, tongue lolling out of your mouth, toes curled from the oversensitivity that was taking over. Your mind goes blank as you revel in the pure bliss of cumming around his cock, and with a low groan, Kuroo buries himself deep inside of you before letting go himself.

You milk Kuroo dry. Taking all the cum from his body, there's so much of it and not enough space inside of you that when you clench around him, you can feel it oozing out making your body shiver. “Fuck,” you mumbled, allowing your body to finally rest against the bed. Limbs almost numb, from being held down most of the time and your jaw was a bit sore, not to mention the intense throbbing from between your legs. You didn’t feel like moving at all. You just wanted to lay in his arms.

Kuroo pulls out of you, allowing his own body to relax from above you. “You did so good for me. look how much you came,” he coos, removing your legs from his shoulders and settling them down at his waist. He admires you like him, all fucked out and exhausted. You only grumble out something incoherent when Kuroo’s fingers slip down to your hole, playing with his cum that’s seeped out already.

The two of you sit like that for a second longer before you speak up, breaking the silence. “Are we still friends?” you ask, staring up at him.

Kuroo chuckles, a deep rumbly sound that fills your chest with warmth. “I dunno, I don’t necessarily fuck the shit out of my friends,” he brushes a few strands of hair out of your face, staring at the dried tear streaks and ruined mascara.

You thin your lips, a splash of nervousness overcoming you at his vague answer. “Does this mean we are girlfriend and boyfriend then?”

“No,” he responds flatly, and you almost headbutt him with how fast you attempt to sit up. “What???” you ask him, slapping his arm, a mix of confusion and frustration building up in you quickly. There is no way, Kuroo must be pranking you. He was the one who confessed first, not you.

He grins, his eyes twinkling with mischief as he presses a gentle kiss to your cheek, “I have to take you out. On a proper date.” he explains, a cheeky smile playing on his lips as he watches your reaction.

You roll your eyes, smacking his arm and fighting the urge to pinch his nipple. “You're so cheesy.”

Kuroo’s laughter fills the room again, a deep comforting sound that makes your heart flutter. “Can’t have you settling or less kay? Now come here” he says, kissing you and pulling you close to him, lifting you up and turning the two of you over so that he’s laying against the bed with you on his chest. You can already feel his cock getting hard again and you knew one thing for sure, that you were in for a night of your own.

Bzzt! Bzzt! Bzzt!

Bzzt! Bzzt!

Bzzt!

The loud, incessant noise is what bothers you out of your sleep. You reach your arm out, trying to locate where your phone is on the nightstand while fighting the urge to flip the entire thing over. There’s a soft golden glow that filters through Kuroo’s apartment, that only light in the room which your eyes struggle to adjust to. Before you could grasp at your phone, a hand gently intercepted yours.

“I’ll check it,” Kuroo murmurs, his voice a deep, gravelly rumble, still thick with sleep. He brings your intertwined hand to his mouth, leaving a few kisses then letting go to place a tender kiss on your forehead. You let out a small hum of agreement, obviously, you weren’t going to argue against a few extra moments of sleep, your body relaxed back into his embrace while your eyes fluttered shut once more.

Propping himself up on one elbow, careful not to disturb you again, Kuroo reaches over to the nightstand grabbing his phone. His other hand rakes through your hair, in a soft soothing rhyme, trying to lull you back into your slumber while he tries to figure out why both of your phones are going off. Kuroo’s brows furrow at the myriad of notifications lighting up his screen, a cursory glance at your phone showed the same thing. Messages from his co-workers, news apps, the JVA Outlook email, from Kenma, and even…. Atsumu?

Kenma: www.kyodonews.com

He clicked on the text from Kenma that came with a link and a photo. With a single tap, the link opened to a bustling news website. Headlines blazed across the top of the page, displaying an array of articles centered around them. Images from the previous night were plastered everywhere, capturing them leaving together in a flurry of camera flashes.

Snatches of headlines like “Gala Afterparty Surprise”, “We Knew it” , “Nobody was Fooled” and “New Couple Alert?” filled the feed, accompanied by countless comments and speculation. Kuroo’s lips curled into a bemused smile as he skimmed through the content.

Kuroo chuckled softly, careful not to wake you up, and continued to scroll until he found the comment section. He continued to read through some of them, laughing a bit at the usernames and the contents of the comments. Each comment ranged from the supportive to the wildly speculative and even some heartbroken ones, adding a surreal layer to his reality.

Kuroo: thanks for the articles Kenma: rude that I wasn’t invited. Hope u know that Kuroo: uh huh, next time buddy Kenma: bet.

Taking a deep breath, Kuroo put the phone back onto the nightstand and tightened his embrace around you, savoring the peaceful and calm morning before the rush of the outside world intruded once more.

Back then, you wouldn’t have been able to get Kuroo to say why he had become so fond of you, why you mattered so much to him, your success, and everything else about you. But now, as you lay, laughing in his arms, in his bed— he could tell you that it was a feeling that was so foreign to him but so close and unforgettable.

Kuroo Tetsurou has loved you since the day he saw you.

Getting to know you was never enough.

And he’d choose you in a hundred lifetimes, in a hundred words, in any version of reality, he would find you and choose you. Over and over again. Without a pause, without a doubt, and in a heartbeat. He would choose you.

And in every other universe, he will search for you because one lifetime with you is just not enough for him.

an: omg I'm so happy that i was finally able to publish this. i hope this was up to everyones standards and i didn't like anybody down with my writing , ignore the comments from the websites lol its just a bunch of inside jokes from me and my friends about this fic hehe :))

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chuuyasheaven · 1 year ago

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bsd men as tits ass or thighs pls :3?? (specifically meursault boys)

“Tits, Ass or Thighs— What do they prefer?”

“—Everybody’s got certain preferences, don’t they? So, what are theirs?”

Tags: Dazai Osamu, Fyodor Dostoevsky, Nikolai Gogol, Chuuya Nakahara, Sigma / afab! Reader, Nipple play?, ooc! Sigma, praising kink, degrading kink, overstimulation, pet names?, hdc format ig, thigh riding?, hickeys, mentioned lingerie?, spanking, mild brat taming, atp everyone may be ooc, face sitting, oral sex (afab! and m! recieving), titty job, messes of their milk, might contain grammar errors, this is a lot holy shit, etc.

Notes: Maybe u just meant Dazai, Fyodor and Chuuya but I added Nikolai and Sigma for funsies— hope this is okay tho!! And I never wrote for Sigma before so sorry if he’s so ooc. . Maybe he’s gonna be added to my list lol.

Dazai Osamu ;

💙 Thighs 💙

💙 I just know that he loves your thighs!! In my opinion, DAZAI lives for seeing you in thigh highs, especially if you have thick thighs. What do you mean you don’t wanna crush him with them??? What else are they made for then— oh, right, hickeys. It’s obvious that he’ll leave some marks here and there for fun, but another thing he lives about them is face sitting. This is literally the best way to die?!!? But also he lives to grab your thighs when he eats you out!!!

💙 Scenario;

He’s been at it for too long, you don’t even remember how many times you came already. . “Dazai, p–please. . S–sensitive!”, you tried to beg, but Dazai was way into this— Once you sit on this mans face, he won’t let go until your too sensitive, Dazai also always leave hickeys while he’s at it. Chanting how he would love to die this way, being crushed by your massive thighs. “—Why should I? You’re still talking properly, I won’t stop until you’re only able to moan my name. Now be a good girl, alright, ‘donna?”

Fyodor Dostoevsky ;

💙 Thighs 💙

💙 In all honesty, this man is a mystery for me– but if I would have to chose, thighs. FYODOR is kinda religious and stuff, meaning he’s definitely gonna be kinda traditional. (i do not know wtf I’m talking abt.) Fyodor doesn’t know what it is, but something about you in white lingerie and white thigh highs sets him off completely. Looking all innocent but being the complete opposite? Yes, absolute approval from him. But being the busy man he is, he’ll let you sit on his lap while he caresses your thighs!! :3

💙 Scenario ;

Seriously, how desperate are you? Walking up to Fyodor in white lingerie and white thigh highs while he’s obviously working? He finds it quite amusing how you think he’ll stop immediately to fuck you, no he won’t, yet. Fyodor just commands you to sit on his lap, now you’re getting off on his own thighs. But you’re still wearing panties, though he doesn’t care, you wanted this, didn’t you? As you keep grinding against it, he slapped your pussy through the fabric multiple times before. The small whines and whimpers are cute, but won’t change his mind to take you right now. “—I don’t really know what you expected me to do. . Well, actually, i did. It’s quite adorable how you think just because you’re desperate I’ll feed into your desires. Anyway, you seem to be getting off pretty easily, slut.”

Nikolai Gogol ;

💙 Tits 💙

Come on, this is so NIKOLAI, seriously. He's so silly, he would literally call them his personal stressballs. (Do not even try to deny it, it's canon.) Nonetheless, he likes to cum on them, Nikolai will make a mess out of them every time whenever you're giving him head. Another thing their useful for, in his opinion, is tit fucking!! It's a nice feeling for him when his dick's inside of your tits. Not to forget, your nipples are pretty fun to play with, but there's one last thing about them. .

💙 Scenario ;

There are many reasons why Nikolai adores you riding him! He loves how he barely has to do anything, hearing the adorable sounds leaving your mouth while you get off on his cock and most importantly, the way your tits bounce with you. All he's doing is laying back and enjoying the view of your tits almost bouncing out of your bra, he would love if they were to actually jump out. “—Hm, would you look at that! Your tits are seconds away to spill out of your bra, dove. I wouldn't mind if they did, maybe you just need to ride my dick faster. . Just like the needy whore you are.”

Sigma ;

💙 Tits 💙

I’m not really sure if it’s accurate, but running an casino ain’t easy. So what’s better than having you and your comfort. .—able tits? SIGMA would never admit it, but he loves them, dearly at that. If he ever needs an break, his head would probably rest on them. On the spicy side, he loves a good tit job. You mentioned this once and Sigma wasn’t against it, sure he was blushing over your suggestion but after he tried it, he loved it!!!

💙 Scenario ;

It felt good, really, Sigma loved your suggestion! He never thought of something like this, he never thought about recieving a tit job, but it felt heavenly. Just the way your tits were rubbing against his cock so good, it felt unreal. . The most beautiful whimpers left his lips, with his flushed expression on his face too, you assumed Sigma was enjoying himself, very. Soon he reached his climax, letting his cum leak on your tits. “—F–fuck. . You did s–so good, darling. Now, lay back and let me return the favor, yeah?”

Chuuya Nakahara ;

💙 Ass 💙

Ah, yes. CHUUYA is, in my opinion, an ass man. I saw a few people say that, and I agree. Like, he’s literally proud of that. He would slap your ass unexpected, respectfully though. He wouldn’t care if you’re carrying a bakery or not, he still slapping it!! Chuuya loves to spend money on matching bras and panties for you, but on your in general. Sometimes it gets to your head or something and you start to act out, which our ginger won’t let slide.

💙 Scenario ;

Lately, you’ve gotten on Chuuya’s nerves. Yeah, he loves to spend money on you and you, but he won’t stand you being bratty. As to right now, he’s ‘punishing’ you for it. The reference for ‘punishing’ is quite just fucking you until it’s stuck in your pretty little brain not to act out again. This time though, Chuuya added something to your punishment. . “Ch–chuuya. . ‘m sorry, I–i didn’t mean to—”, you tried to apologize, only to be silenced by another spank. “—Really? Too bad, you’re gonna take this if you want me to fuck you, baby. Just keep on taking f’me and I’ll fuck you soon enough, m‘kay?”

OH EM GEE YOU GUYS IT TOOK ME THREE DAYS TO FINISH

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etanow · 6 months ago

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MASTER POST

The Experimental Monster Laboratory, or Monster Labs, is a TADC AU where the cast is in the physical world! Sorta..

C&A Research Facilities is one of the cornerstones of the science and medical worlds! They do everything; funding research, manufacturing equipment, and research into the known and unknown in an effort to understand everything. To the public, that is.

They experiment heavily in everything, from hiring literal Gods on earth to manage the more ..sensitive divisions; mixing machine and magic, technology and the supernatural, genetic experimentation, you name it, they’ve probably done it! The world outside may not know anything of the advancements they’re researching but there is little C&A Labs won’t allow in the name of progress in understanding and cataloging everything in their universe. Our story takes place in one of the more private residencies deep in C&A, belonging to Caine; a minor God with mysterious origins, unknown limitations, and boundless enthusiasm for learning everything he can about his little science friends.

╰┈➤ Content

╚═ Unnamed fic (Coming soon...) ╚═ Bubble can cook?? .

╰┈➤ Asks

╚═ Does Pomni act like a zombie? ╚═ Is Zooble's Demon Snake Leg happy? ╚═ Gangle is in a Situation.png ╚═ Gangle's temperament ╚═ Has Ragatha ever shocked anyone? ╚═ Gangle love RAAAH ╚═ Do Caine and Ragatha fight over Pomni? ╚═ Why did Gangle summon a demon? ╚═ Why does Pomni wear a bell collar? ╚═ Kinger's eye ╚═ What if there was a baby crying? ╚═ Death trauma [Gangle and Pomni] ╚═ Kinger has ONE hobby outside of Bugs ╚═ Is Zooble protective of Gangle? ╚═ What happens when you touch Pomni's brain? ╚═ JAX DATED SOMEONE?? ╚═ What does Jax do? .

╰┈➤ References

╚═ Intro Cards ╚═ Height Chart Lineup ╚═ Zooble Demon Snake Leg Intro Card /j ╚═ Queenie ╚═ Gummigoo ╚═ The Sun Room ╚═ Logo .

╰┈➤ Arts

╚═ First ML AU Post ╚═ Second, exploring outfits ╚═ Design sketches part 2 ╚═ Pomni + flower language ╚═ Showtime + Ragapom doodles ╚═ Jax not practicing lab safety ╚═ Abstragedy cuddles ╚═ Raga doodle ╚═ Ragapom doodle ╚═ Jax and Meadowsweet ╚═ Pomni staring out a fake window.png ╚═ [Gives pomni flowers] ╚═ more doodles ig

╰┈➤ Misc.

╚═ Caine Lemon Rant [Animatic] ╚═ Zodiac signs?? ╚═ Caine gets called a Tumblr Sexyman and cries ╚═ Bubble Looksmaxxing ╚═ Jax wants to take ketamine with you (Romantically) ╚═ Caine eats a lemon [Animatic] ╚═ BUNNYSUITSSS ╚═ Magma doodles ╚═ Magma doodles part 2

╰┈➤ Pomniverse

╚═ Wonderland and Zombni are friends :D

╰┈➤ Boundaries / Q&A

╚═ Any story plans? I'm not sure yet, currently writing a fic and several comics on the way.

╚═ Any boundaries? None, so go crazy! I am OK with gore, NSFW, angst, violence, etc, just be sure it is tagged/TW'd appropriately as not everyone is OK with that content. I'd also like to see please LOL

╚═ Can we create fanart/fics/content? Can we dub or fancam? Yes of course!! Please tag me, I'd love to see all of it! I'm tracking the tag #TADC Monster Labs AU for other's content

╚═ Is NSFW allowed? Yes, both art and fic, so long as it's marked appropriately I'd very much love to see!

╚═ Can I ship the characters, self-ships, or OC x Canon? Yes, ship away! Just be aware the only au-canon ships are Caine/Pomni, Ragatha/Pomni, Gangle/Zooble, and PAST Ragatha/Jax.

╚═ Can we make OCs? Go on ahead! Here is a PSD file for the blank template and the PNG can be found here.

╚═ Who are you?

✦✧ Hi I'm Audi! 26, she/they. Full-time office worker, I do art in my free time. ✦ My current interests are TADC, RWBY, Looney Tunes, and Trolls. ✧ I draw using a custom PC, a Huion Kamvas 16 (2.5K), and Adobe Photoshop. Currently learning to use Procreate. ✦ I do not RP and this isn't an ask blog, asks interacting directly with characters will probably not be answered. ✧ Asks are not guaranteed to be answered, sorry if yours isn't but please don't spam/send multiple times! ✦ Commissions and requests are not open at this time, thank you. ✧ My main tumblr is Audi-art. My Twitter is Hammerspaced.

#tadc monster labs au #monster labs au #tadc au #masterlist #masterpost

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nadvs · 3 months ago

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push and pull (part one)

pairing twin!rafe x female reader x twin!zach

summary life felt complicated enough when you started falling for zach. then you meet rafe. he’s the complete opposite of his twin brother, but he captures your attention just the same.

author’s note finally wrote the zach/rafe twin au!! i won’t be making this a series but it was so fun to write as a one-shot (that had to turn into a two-shot because i ran out of post space lol)

tags college au set in the obx universe. mutual pining. angst. love triangle. miscommunication. no smut. rafe endgame (s2 bangs supremacy) (sorry to my zach girlies)

content warnings alcohol use, mental illness, mentions of parental abandonment

» intro post

» masterlist

Everyone can tell the Cameron twins apart by their hair.

Zach’s is short and unkept, always looking like he just ran off the soccer field, while Rafe keeps his a little longer, soft strands hanging over his forehead, every edge neat and clean.

From the moment you first see them together, you can tell that the two couldn’t be more different. And you don’t need to rely on any tricks like looking at their hair to know who’s who.

It’s their eyes that give them away. While they’re the same captivating shade of blue, Zach has a sense of hope in his eyes that Rafe doesn’t.

────୨ৎ────

Your father has been coaching your college’s men’s soccer team for most of his career. When the directors of the athletic department kept pestering him about the team needing a social media presence for the school’s PR, he asked you if you’d be interested.

As a freshman, the part-time job seemed like a fun way to get to know people, so you accepted the position and made a TikTok account for the team.

Since the start of the season, of all the soccer players, Zach has been the most welcoming. He goes along with whatever you need for work, humoring you when you hold up your phone and ask him trending questions for videos, like what his lockscreen is or what superstitions he follows before a game.

As time went on, you felt yourself gravitating more and more towards him, watching him in awe whenever you came by the field during practices and games.

Eventually, he started inviting you to the close-knit team’s hangouts. You quickly and seamlessly joined the friend group within a few weeks.

Before you knew it, you had a serious crush on him. He’s handsome and funny and a total sweetheart. What makes it so complicated is that you can’t read him at all.

He’s nice to you, but he’s nice to everyone. Maybe your feelings are unrequited, but you hold onto hope that he looks at you the same way you look at him.

It’s a Friday night when you visit Zach’s place for the first time. You’re sitting in the living room with a few of his teammates and their girlfriends, your empty takeout containers scattered over the coffee table, the sound of the autumn wind rushing past the windows reduced to a whisper beneath your loud conversation.

Zach had already told you he had a twin brother that he lived with in a loft off-campus, but when you rest your eyes on Rafe for the first time as he comes through the front door, it’s surprisingly jarring to see someone identical to Zach.

The chatter continues around you as you watch Rafe toss his keys onto the end table, drop a duffle bag, and silently walk into the open-concept kitchen. He swings open the fridge, keeping his head down.

His hair is damp, sweat glistening on his skin. His shirt is plastered to his torso, the planes of his muscles angular and sharp, not leaving much to the imagination.

“You haven’t met my less handsome brother yet,” Zach jokes to you. He points to Rafe, then to you, introducing you to each other.

“Hi,” you say kindly.

When Rafe meets your gaze, he stills for a moment, eyes almost imperceptibly widening. A couple seconds of silence pass.

“Hey,” he finally offers with a quick, tense nod.

“How was your workout?” Zach asks.

Rafe pulls a protein shake out of the fridge and swings the door closed.

“It’s so fucking busy in that gym,” Rafe replies, stepping away. He turns the corner and paces up the stairs towards his bedroom.

He and his brother have always lived in different worlds. They host parties sometimes, but that’s usually as close as their social circles overlap.

Right now, though, it’s like his aching muscles are willing him to turn around and keep talking to the pretty girl sitting in his living room. But while he’s never been good at ignoring his impulses, he’s not about to flirt with his brother’s guest, knowing how much it bothers him.

Before Rafe reaches his bedroom to get ready for a shower, he hears Zach come upstairs to stop him in the hallway.

“I’ll make sure they’re out by nine,” he says quietly. “That cool?”

Zach has always enjoyed having people over and surrounding himself with friends. But he’s aware of how much it annoys his moody brother when he just wants to chill at home. Despite how much Rafe parties and hooks up, when he wants quiet, he wants quiet.

Because Zach naturally wants to keep the peace, when they moved out of Tannyhill, he set ground rules. One of them is that they’ll check in with each other to make sure they don’t let guests overstay.

Rafe looks at his watch to see it’s nearly eight and says, “Sure. Whatever. I’m having a girl over later anyway.”

As soon as Zach left the living room, you heard one of the other soccer players, Chance, quietly make a joke about how that was the most words he’s ever heard Rafe say.

It makes Rafe all the more intriguing to you. Everyone here has some sort of history with him, albeit small and meaningless. But you’re still fairly new to the friend group. You know nothing about Rafe. For some reason, you want that to change.

Zach’s eyes meet yours when he comes back into the living room.

“Still a warm and fuzzy guy, isn’t he?” Chance says.

“Like always,” Zach quips with a shrug. And that’s that. Nobody brings up Rafe for the rest of the night.

When the hangout comes to an end about an hour later, Zach trails you all out through the front door. You bump into a girl you recognize from one of your classes.

“Hey,” she says. “I know you.”

“Hi,” you say with a laugh, holding the door open for her when you realize she’s coming into the loft.

Rafe appears behind Zach and by the way his eyes hungrily travel down her body, you quickly surmise she’s here for him.

And for some reason, it stings that she’s physically the complete opposite of you. If that’s Rafe’s type, you definitely don’t measure up.

You’re not sure why your mind is running away from you so fast. Why do you care about Rafe’s type? It’s his brother you’ve been pining over for the last month.

“How’d you do on that quiz?” she asks you.

“The grades are already up?” you reply.

“On time for once,” she laughs.

“Let’s go,” Rafe mumbles to her, his hand finding the small of her back.

You know it isn’t personal. He clearly just wants to hang out with her, not entertain any small talk. But the way he’s acting like you’re not even in the room hurts.

You say bye to Zach one last time before you follow your friends down the hallway towards the elevator. Your shoes are padding over the tiles when you hear your name half-whispered.

Zach stands with a foot out his door, beckoning you. Butterflies swirl in your stomach as you scurry back to close the distance between you. You look up at his warm eyes expectantly.

“Sorry. Don’t take it personally,” he murmurs with a gentle smile. “Rafe’s like that with everyone.”

You’re sure he’s not like that with the girl he just led upstairs. But you don’t know why you even care that much.

Zach’s the one you like. Obviously if you find him attractive, you’ll find his twin brother attractive, too. You figure your brain is just getting used to it.

You return his smile, appreciative. Stuff like this is why you like him; he cares enough to try to comfort you after his brother brushed you off.

“It’s okay,” you reply. Your friends call your name, urging you to get to the elevator before the doors close. “Thanks. I’ll see you.”

Zach watches you rush away, hoping he managed to make you feel better. He loves his brother. He understands why he is the way he is. But he doesn’t like that he made a girl who was nothing but nice to him feel bad.

As he tidies up the mess in the living room, thinking about how sweetly you had offered to help clear the table, Zach realizes that he enjoys not having housekeepers.

He never liked watching people have to clean up after him. Getting used to cleaning took some time after he and Rafe settled in here when the school year began, but now, it feels good.

Moving out was the best thing they could’ve done. Even though Zach’s only minutes older, he always felt protective of his brother, and being at home with their dad and stepmom just messed with Rafe, bringing out his self-destructive tendencies.

About an hour later, Zach’s doing schoolwork at the kitchen island when he hears the front door shut. He’s used to his brother’s habits, having random girls over, never letting them spend the night.

“She’s new,” Zach says when Rafe saunters into the kitchen.

“Yeah,” Rafe says, ducking into the fridge. “Do we have any food?”

“I saved some takeout for you.” Zach points to the container by the oven.

“Sweet.”

“What’s she like?” Zach asks.

Rafe shrugs. Thankfully, his hook-up wasn’t interested in getting to know him, either. She just wanted to be physical. Losing himself in the feeling of a girl’s legs wrapped around him, melting into emotionless pleasure, shutting his mind up, is Rafe’s comfort zone.

“She’s cool,” he mumbles. “It’s nothing serious.”

Zach watches his brother pick at his dinner at the counter, not bothering to sit down.

He never understood how he could have these meaningless hook-ups. Zach can’t imagine sharing a bed with a girl he has no connection with. Or never talking to her again after.

He shuts his laptop, pinching the bridge of his nose before he speaks.

“Hey, you think you could be a little nicer to my guests?” he asks. Rafe tenses up.

“This again?” It isn’t the first time Zach is giving him shit for how he talks to his friends.

“It makes them feel unwelcome when you act like that,” Zach replies. Rafe’s temper flares.

“Did they tell you that?” he snips.

“They don’t have to. Just… be decent, okay?”

“I am. You care too much about what people think,” Rafe mutters.

“Maybe you don’t care enough.” Zach’s lips firm into a thin line. “I don’t want to have to apologize for you.”

“Oh, come on,” he chuckles. “Who’d you have to apologize to? For what?”

Zach mentions your name and how sad you looked as you were leaving. Rafe sighs, but a hint of anxiety pricks at his skin. This happens a lot. He thinks things are fine, and then he finds out later that apparently, he was rude.

“I hope you’re at least nicer to the girls you bring over,” Zach says.

“Not every girl wants a nice guy,” he jokes with a snort. “Can we skip the lecture?”

“Dude,” he sighs in exasperation.

Rafe rolls his eyes. Zach never got that Rafe doesn’t have the ability to read people all that well, that he doesn’t know when he’s expected to tiptoe around feelings. Rafe wishes everyone was just upfront like he is.

Despite the frustration rolling through his body, he hates to lose his temper on his brother. He always regrets it after if he does. So, he relents.

“Fine. I’ll be nicer,” Rafe sighs. He thinks back to the way you looked sitting in the living room earlier tonight, your voice sweet, your smile pretty.

“She’s cute,” Rafe mumbles. “New girlfriend?”

He wonders if Rafe’s mocking him. Or maybe Zach’s just being overly sensitive. His younger brother has teased him in the past for how he’s hardly ever single for very long.

Zach does prefer to be in a relationship, to live in a promise of commitment with someone who wants to love him. But is that so bad?

They deal with their trauma in different ways. Zach runs towards comfort and connection, while Rafe would rather die than be vulnerable with a girl.

Zach would never say it, but he believes he copes much better than Rafe does. But then again, Zach is pretty sure Rafe has mental health issues that he refuses to acknowledge.

“Just a friend. Her dad’s my coach,” Zach replies flatly. “She does social media for the team. She’s off limits.”

“Off limits?” Rafe echoes. “Why? You like her?”

“No,” Zach lies on impulse. It’s not just his brother he considers you off limits to. He can’t pursue you, either. Although he wants to.

But if he admits to not wanting to date the coach’s daughter because it could end badly and leave things awkward for everybody, Rafe’ll whine about how stupid it is to be living life like that, always afraid to upset people.

They’ve had this exact conversation so many times. Zach would say that it’s not stupid to be considerate. Rafe would tell him to be selfish for once. And they’d get nowhere.

“I already told you that you can’t hook up with my friends,” Zach states.

Rafe sighs. He’s done it in the past, had flings with girls Zach befriends, then caught shit for not calling back, even though he’s always clear that he’s not looking for a relationship. Zach hates losing friends as a result of Rafe’s impulses.

“I know,” he finally says. “Relax.”

It frustrates Zach how much his brother acts like he’s high-strung. In reality, he is relaxed. Among his friends, he has a reputation for being chill and fun.

But with Rafe, he has to play this role. He’s had to since they were kids.

Zach stands, taking his laptop with him as he paces towards his bedroom. It’d be nice to talk to his brother about how much he likes you, about how excited he gets when he sees you coming to talk to him, even when it’s just to film a video.

It’s not like he can tell any of the guys on his team. As close as he is with them, he’s sure it’d spread and get back to you.

Rafe’s the only person he’d gush to, but he’d rather not listen to him whine about how Zach needs to stop giving a fuck about consequences. Because that’s who Rafe is.

“Night,” Zach says curtly.

“Hey, I’m sorry, alright? I don’t try to be a dick,” Rafe says. “You don’t want any more of this?”

Zach looks at the food.

“I’m good.”

It’s another lie. He still has an appetite, but he’d rather let someone else eat if they’re hungry. Because that’s who Zach is.

────୨ৎ────

“Whoa,” you say, scrolling through your notifications.

“What’s up?” Zach asks, leaning closer to you.

You’re sitting in a loud and overcrowded on-campus bar with your friends. It’s been a few days since you hung out at Zach’s, being pulled out of the conversation from your phone buzzing incessantly.

Zach’s chin is almost touching your shoulder as you drag your thumb over your phone screen. He smells like soap and warmth, making your heart race.

“This one video randomly blew up,” you say. “From like, two weeks ago. It has almost ten thousand likes.”

“Which one?” Chance asks, sitting across the table from you.

“The one where I asked you guys what’s on your lockscreens,” you tell them. “I’ll send the link.”

Your friends gaze at their phones around the table after you share the video in the group chat, but Zach stays in his spot, preferring to watch over your shoulder, closer than he’s ever been to you.

It’s stuff like this that makes you think he’s crushing on you, too.

“Well, that’s good, right?” Zach offers. “Makes you look good if you get us viral.”

You breathe a chuckle as you read through the comments.

“I don’t know,” you say. “You’re all kind of getting objectified.”

“What?” Kacey, Chance’s girlfriend half-shouts.

“Oh, that explains why I’m getting all these random follow requests,” Chance laughs. He looks at his girlfriend. “I’m not accepting them. Don’t worry.”

“Sunrise guy is so pure,” Roy, the goalie, reads a comment aloud in a teasing tone. “102 likes. Jesus.”

“Am I sunrise guy?” Zach mumbles to you.

You smirk, finally turning your head to meet his eyes. In the video, Zach said his lockscreen was ‘a cool picture he took of a sunrise.’

“I think you are,” you reply. Admittedly, he looked adorable in the video, just coming out of the locker room after a game, his hair messy and his skin flushed.

“Pure,” he repeats, his lips twisting. “Is that good?”

“I’d say it’s good,” you shrug.

“Sunrise guy is fine as hell,” Roy reads, laughing. “And there’s a whole thread under trying to find your Instagram.”

You swear you notice Zach blush as he shuffles to take his phone out of his pocket.

“What are they saying about you, huh, Roy?” Zach teases. “Share with the class.”

“Nobody’s saying shit about Roy,” Chance laughs, scrolling.

“Shut up,” Roy says, punching Chance’s shoulder.

Your stomach twists with unease when you see Zach open Instagram, the red message bubble mocking you.

Sure enough, a few girls dm’d him. He opens a message from a girl with a pretty profile photo.

Hiiii :) please don’t think I’m a stalker lol I just saw you on tiktok and I’m wondering how I haven’t seen you around campus?

You look away, feeling guilty for snooping. It’s a girl who goes to the same college. A girl he could very easily meet and date.

He’s not your boyfriend. You have to remind yourself that he owes you nothing. But jealousy doesn’t care if you’ve claimed someone as yours or not. It still finds a way to seep in.

You shift in your seat, pretending to continue to read comments while your heart squeezes in a vice.

────୨ৎ────

The next weekend, Zach and Rafe are hosting a party. As you get ready, you put extra time into getting pretty. You wonder if you haven’t been obvious enough.

You’ve been flirting with Zach like always, but he might think you’re just being nice, so if the air feels right tonight, you’ll try to make it more clear that you’re interested.

You arrive at the loft, trying to act unfazed when Zach pulls you in for a quick hug. He does it with everyone, though, so you’re not sure if you’re special to him at all.

Rafe notices you walk in. He’s standing just outside the kitchen, a cold beer bottle in his hand. You’re even prettier than he remembers.

Zach leads you to the kitchen where drinks are laid out on the counter, then quickly gets pulled away by the doorbell ringing again.

You pace into the bright space, gazing over the ridiculously large array of alcohol. Ever since you saw the size of this place, you’ve wondered if Zach comes from a wealthy family.

Regular college students couldn’t afford a home like this. And they wouldn’t so generously buy all the many drinks scattered atop the counter.

You meet sharp blue eyes. Rafe raises his beer bottle slightly in greeting. You offer a smile in return, your body numbing.

You notice yet another difference between them. Zach dresses like most other guys on campus, while Rafe is in a crisp button-up, a small logo stitched on the front. You know that brand isn’t cheap. Neither is his watch.

They must be well off. Zach doesn’t seem to want to show it. Rafe does.

You find a drink you can stomach, picking up the cold glass bottle and looking around for an opener.

“Apparently, I was rude to you the other day?” Rafe’s voice cuts over the music.

You look up to see him stepping a bit closer, putting his beer down on the marble with a clack and gripping a metallic bottle opener. You take his silent invitation, handing him your drink.

“You weren’t not rude,” you reply.

Rafe’s dimples cave into his cheeks when he chuckles, looking down, popping the lid off with ease. He likes that you call him out on it, instead of appeasing him.

“My bad.” His voice is husky, his words said with a drawl. He hands your drink back to you. “Zach’s always giving me shit about my manners.”

“He’s right to,” you joke.

You take a small sip from the bottle, your face pinching with a hint of distaste, and Rafe finds it ridiculously cute.

“Don’t like it?” he asks, eyes glinting.

“Just a little bitter,” you admit. You look out at the crowd, some faces familiar, some faces not.

You’re not close enough to the girl in your class, the one you saw Rafe with, to have asked her what their deal is. The curiosity has oddly been gnawing at you.

It’d be weird to mention it to her. Or to him. But you do notice that she’s not here. You take another drag from the bottle, tapping your nails against the counter to the familiar song.

Rafe can’t tear his eyes off of you, noticing the way you’re slightly mouthing the lyrics. If he wasn’t this close, he wouldn’t be able to tell.

“You know this song?” Rafe asks.

“You do, too?” you say, looking up at him again as he towers over you.

“It’s my playlist.”

“Oh,” you laugh, surprised that you have something in common with him, that you both like this fairly unknown artist. “Yeah. This whole album is good.”

Rafe nods. You try not to stare. He has a magnetizing pull that you can’t really make sense of. There’s something so naturally dominating about him, like he’s silently demanding your attention.

The night Zach mentioned your job, Rafe looked through the account you run for his soccer team. Truthfully, he wished you were in the videos instead of behind the camera, but at least he could hear your voice.

You intrigue him. There’s no way to ignore it. His brother doesn’t want him hooking up with his friends, but what’s the harm in talking?

“So, you do TikTok stuff for my brother’s team?” Rafe asks. Zach has obviously talked about you to him. You wonder what else he said.

“My job description technically says ‘content creation’,” you reply. “But I guess ‘TikTok stuff’ works.”

Rafe can’t stifle his smile. He thinks Zach’s an idiot not to like you.

Maybe he’s lying. But it’s unlike him to lie when it comes to girls. He always wears his heart on his sleeve, so much so that it confuses Rafe why, after growing up around so much instability, he’s still so open to being hurt.

“You’re not into soccer?” you ask. He shakes his head no. “Do you play something else?”

“Nah,” Rafe says. “I golf sometimes, but that’s it.”

You can’t help but breathe a chuckle. Of course a rich guy like him would play golf of all sports.

“What?” he asks.

“Nothing,” you say.

“What’s funny?” he teases, his stare penetrating.

You have to look away, heat flushing through you. Everything about him, about his appeal, is overwhelming.

“Come on,” he beckons, teasing.

“I was going to say that I’m not surprised.” Your eyes dart down to the small logo on his shirt. “You would play golf.”

Rafe’s amused. Zach never liked making it obvious that they come from money because he says it’s in ‘bad taste.’ It’s another thing about his brother that never made sense to Rafe.

“Really? Who’s being rude now?” he asks.

You look up at him with doe eyes. Right now, it’s really hard for Rafe to give a fuck about you being off limits.

“Still you,” you reply. He laughs.

It’s a surprise, the way Rafe’s not as cold as you first thought. He has a guard up and he doesn’t smile much, but he has his own type of charm.

You continue to chat with him about music and school and even your dad being the soccer coach. Zach must have mentioned that, too.

Thankfully, you’re not quite drunk yet, because if you were, you might ask him what else Zach has said about you, and that could be a giveaway of your feelings for him. And if you show interest in Zach, that would probably kill your chances with Rafe.

Uncomfortable realization pools your senses. While these men are complete contradictions of each other, unalike in so many ways, you like them. Both of them. Shit.

You down the tiny bit left of your drink, a sign of just how long you’ve been standing here talking to Rafe. Time with him has a way of slipping.

You gaze out at the party again, noticing that the living room has gotten much more crowded. And then you see Zach, sitting on the couch, beaming brightly as he talks to a girl.

Rafe catches the way your face falls. When he sees your eyes on his brother, he’s sure of it. You like him. And here you are, making conversation with him while you’re pining over Zach.

He thought you were having fun together. He felt a spark. The sting of rejection tears into him. His gut reaction is to be spiteful. To say you should just go talk to Zach if he’s boring you. Or to really make it hurt, to tell you Zach said he doesn’t like you like that.

Truthfully, as much as he loves Zach, he’s always been a little jealous of him. Everything just seems so easy for him, while every minute of Rafe’s life feels like a fight he’s losing.

Instead of hurting you, he swallows down his words with a swig of beer. Maybe all of Zach’s scolding for his lack of manners is finally working.

“Enjoy the party, yeah?” Rafe says to you. He steps away before you can reply.

Later on, you’re chatting with Kacey when you feel rhythmic buzzes in your pocket. You pull your phone out to see Zach’s name on your screen.

“Hello?” you answer.

“Finally,” he laughs. “Can you open the front door for me? I got locked out.”

A moment later, you meet Zach on the first floor, wishing your heart didn’t skip the way it does when he smiles at you through the glass door.

“I’m an idiot,” he says once you let him in. “I forgot my keys. Thanks.”

“Sure,” you laugh.

“You know, you’re the fourth person I called.” Zach puts an arm around your shoulders as you walk through the lobby. He’s never touched you like this and it’s comforting, but then again, everything about Zach is comforting. “Nobody else answered.”

By the way he’s being more affectionate than usual and slurring his words, you can tell he’s drunk.

“Why were you outside?” you ask.

“I walked someone down,” he answers. “Actually, a girl I met because of that video you posted.”

Likely the girl you saw messaging him just a few nights ago. He must have replied and liked her so much that he invited her tonight. Your heart aches.

“How’d it go?” you ask, feigning indifference.

“Good,” Zach replies. “I think she had fun.”

Of course he answers selflessly, more concerned about what she thought of him. You enter the elevator and he parts from you, pressing the button.

“Was Rafe being nice?” he asks. He obviously noticed you talking to his brother.

“He was actually telling me to leave,” you reply. Zach’s eyes widen and you laugh. “Wow, you’re gullible. I’m kidding. Yes, he was nice.”

He did leave your conversation pretty abruptly, but you’d rather not tell Zach in case he feels the need to apologize for his brother’s behavior again.

“Okay. Good.” Zach looks up at the changing numbers on the screen, smiling proudly as he leans back against the elevator wall.

His younger brother can be brash and reckless, but Zach knows it’s all because his feelings overwhelm him. He sees right through Rafe’s attempts to hide it from everyone, including himself.

Everyone thinks Zach is the emotional one. He isn’t. He doesn’t even come close to how sensitive and unstable Rafe can be.

“He’s a good guy,” he says. “I love him to death. We’ve been through a lot together and when our mom left, he…”

You look over at Zach’s profile, his lips curved into a frown.

“He took it hard and I don’t think he ever really got over any of it,” he finishes his sentence.

His inhibitions have clearly been silenced by alcohol, and you’d ask for more information if it didn’t feel like you were taking advantage of his drunken state.

The elevator dings. The doors slide open. Rafe’s standing in the hallway, holding his phone, having just caught up with Zach’s missed notifications.

“Where were you?” Zach says, mocking offense. “Do you even care that I was left out in the cold? You know I don’t like being alone.”

“Alright, come on,” Rafe says, shaking his head in disapproval as he pulls Zach forward by the shoulder. He meets your eyes for a second. “How much did you drink?”

“Relax,” Zach says, then laughs. “Wow. For once, I’m telling you that.”

The three of you walk down the hallway towards the loft. Your arms are crossed, still confused about your feelings for Rafe, still hurt that Zach doesn’t see anything worth pursuing in you.

“I love you, you know?” Zach mumbles to his brother. “I was just saying how much we’ve been through and how much I love you.”

Rafe’s body goes cold. He glares at you.

“What did he say?” he asks you, tense.

“I could barely understand him,” you fib. You don’t want to embarrass either one of them.

“You’re not gonna say you love me back?” Zach says to Rafe.

“Dude,” Rafe scoffs. “You cannot hold your booze. You’re going to bed.”

“Never,” Zach murmurs.

After everything that’s happened tonight, you feel too disoriented to be able to laugh.

(part two)

#rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron and you #rafe cameron and reader #rafe cameron and y/n #zach maclaren and reader #zach maclaren and you #zach maclaren and y/n #zach maclaren x y/n #zach maclaren x you #zach maclaren x reader

297 notes · View notes

stepintothelimelight · 5 months ago

Text

▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄ DON’T STOP ME NOW!

┊┊┊✧ ⁺ ⁺ 　° I’m a racing car,

passing by

like lady godiva ✧ ⁺ ┊

PART 1 of the Spitfire Saga

TRAILER: Spitfire makes her F1 debut and changes the world of F1 forever

(2017!grid x genz!fem!reader)(SMAU)

For more Spitfire content go to my account and it’s my pinned post since tumblr hates me and won’t let me link anything :)

WARNINGS: not a lot lol language?, suggestive stuff but in a bad way, sexism, that one picture of max 💀, for me, spitfire is american, so there will be references to american things (I’m american)

fc: random girls (mostly drivers) i found in pinterest + valtteri bottas

Aaaaannnnd ACTION!

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twitter

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yourusername just shared a story!

Caption: [AP calc ❌ abu dhabi ☑️]

Replies:

charles_leclerc: Congrats, Mate! Just heard the good news! yourusername: jelly? charles_leclerc: I try to be nice and this is what I get ☹️ yourusername: liked a message

max33verstappen: Can’t wait to see you on the track yourusername: aww 😚 yourusername: only took me 3 years to catch up with you maxie 😁😁 max33verstappen: Good luck trying to catch me in the track, Schat. yourusername: 😠😠

user4: no one wants you here

user5: Give the seat to Schumacher. He deserves it 53847822 more times than you do.

yourbestfriend1: Take me with youuuuuu 😭 yourbestfriend1: I don’t want to deal with mr Henry alone 😞 yourusername: bro i would if i could but merc literally kidnapped me out of calc 😒 dw tho i still have to do henry’s work just in a plane ☹️ yourbestfriend1: liked a message

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yourusername just shared a story!

Caption: [first time in a f1 car kinda nervy]

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mercedesamgf1 ☑️

Welcome to the paddock, Y/n!

tagged: yourusername

liked by yourusername, lewishamilton, charles_leclerc and 238809 others

view 6389 comments:

yourusername: awww thanks admin ❤️

user6: Schumacher better

user7: def gonna crash out in FP1

carlossainz55: ¡bienvenida Spitfire!

⮑ user18: the fact that everyone calls her Spitfire 🥲

user9: poser

⮑ user8: how is she a poser? She earned her place just like any other alternate would

⮑user9: she obviously sleeps her way to the top

⮑ user8: SHE IS BARELY 18!

user10: All y’all honestly hating on a teenage girl right now 🤡🤡

⮑ user11: literally it’s pathetic

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twitter:

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yourusername

yourusername: POLE POSITYOSN!!!

ps sorry 4 swearing on the radio 😔

pps i didn’t just catch you max, i beat you 😇xx

tagged: mercedsamgf1, max33verstappen

liked by lewishamilton, f1 and 63729 others

view 16738 comments:

user19: icon

user20: proved them all wrong!

⮑user21: not like she won a race 🙄🙄

⮑user20: not like you could do any better 🙄🙄

user24: my homegirl really did max dirty

user25: Absolutely VIOLATED Verstappen

user54: how does she have that picture?

⮑ user55: her and max are childhood friends. they were karting rivals

⮑ user56: she, him and Charles were the big 3 of their age division

⮑ user54: isn’t she younger than them, though?

⮑user55: she raced 2 years up

lewishamilton: An honor to be on the track with you! History in the making 💪🏾

⮑ yourusername: 🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨 LEWIS ON MY POST LEWIS ON MY POST 🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨

⮑charles_leclerc; Chèrie, you’re embarrassing me

⮑yourusername: u don’t need my help to do that 👍

user22: her and Charles HELP

max33verstappen: was that last picture necessary?

⮑ yourusername: very.

user23: her and Max HELP

pierregasly: Great to race with you again!

♡ by creator

danielricciardo: amazing driving, Spitfire! (and thank you for the blackmail 🙏🙏)

⮑yourusername: happy to help

⮑max33verstappen: 👎

landonorris: glad to see one of the ‘99s making a mark around here ❤️

⮑yourusername: awwwww lan 😗 come to f1

⮑landonorris: i lost my pass ☹️

⮑yourusername: again? ☹️

user24: Y/n and Lando 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👨?

⮑yourusername: OH HEYLLLLL NAWWE

⮑landonorris: EEWWWW

⮑user24: what the hell 😭

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yourbestfriend1 just shared a story!

Caption: [literally sobbing @/yourusername] ▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄

f1 ☑️

f1: WINNER!

Y/n L/n becomes the first woman to win a formula one grand prix! She also becomes the youngest ever Grand Prix winner at 18 years, 37 days and the first driver to win on their debut race since 1961!

Congratulations, yourusername, in the words of @lewishamilton: “history in the making.”

tagged: yourusername, mercedesamgf1

liked by max33verstappen, taylorswift and 63738 others

Congratulations, yourusername, in the words of @lewishamilton: “history in the making.”

tagged: yourusername, Mercedesamgf1

view 8367 comments

mercedesamgf1: THAT’S OUR GIRL!!!!!!

⮑ user25: Y/n seat when??

⮑yourusername: yeah, when??? 😇😇😇 (joking pls don’t fire me xoxo)

user26: Y/n in the comments begging for a job is so relatable

user27: rigged

user28: Obviously a PR stubt

⮑user29: How? She outpaced everyone in Qualifying and held pole for the whole race

⮑user28: last race of the season, they need some new fans, so they bring in a woman and tell everyone to drive slower to get more traffic. It’s not rocket science

⮑user30: the only rocket science is how on earth you got to that conclusion

scuderiaferrari: a historic race! @/yourusername

yourusername: Thank you @/f1 and @/mercedesamgf1 for this incredible opportunity. History was made tonight ❤️❤️❤️

⮑user31: damn right it was

yourusername: ALSO DID WE SEE THAT TAYLOR SWIFT LIKED THE POST???? @taylorswift ILYSM!!! TIWWCHNT IS LITERALLY MY HYPE SONG!!!!

⮑user32: ofc she’s a swiftie

⮑yourusername: what is that supposed to mean?? being a swiftie is the only way to live ??? how can you breathe without listening to reputation on repeat????

⮑ user33: TIWWCHNT STANS UNITE

⮑ taylorswift: @/yourusername: congrats on the win! Here’s to you, an inspiration to all of us women fighting our ways into men’s worlds! 🥂🍾

⮑yourusername: OH MY GODDDDDDD

⮑user34: is she still breathing?

⮑maxverstappen33: no

⮑danielricciardo: no

⮑mercedesamgf1: no

⮑charles_leclerc: no

⮑carlossainz55: no

⮑lewishamilton: no

⮑f1: no

⮑user35: is @/user34 still breathing?

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yourusername

yourusername: WHAT A WEEKEND!!

Mercedes!! tysm for trusting me in your car and i hope that i did you proud!!! this week has been a dream 🤍

Valtteri: I know that my win tonight is due to your misfortune, and I’m sorry we will never get to race together on the track. I hope I did you proud.

Seb, to whom I’m dedicating my maiden win to. Without you, I would be no where. your never ending support and willingness to help are the reasons i’ve been able to race as long as i have. you named me spitfire all the way back in f4 and now that nickname will live in the legendd of the sport forever.

History was made tonight, and even if this is the last race i ever drive in a formula 1 car, i’ll rest easier knowing that my win in abu dhabi 2017 will inspire the next generation of female athletes in motorsport.

Thank you to everyone who came out to support Mercedes tonight!

xx Spitfire

tagged: lewishamilton, mercedesamgf1, valtteribottas and f1

liked by mercedesamgf1, lewis hamilton and 380278 others

view 279491 comments

user36: say what you want about her, what she accomplished tonight is legendary

lewishamilton: Congratulations! Looking forward to seeing you around the track next year!

⮑user37: around, not on 😔

⮑user38: Everyone join hands in prayer that Lewis doesn’t know anything about Bottas’ seat being filled and is just being nice

⮑user39: 🤝

⮑user40:🤝

⮑user41:🤝

⮑user42: 🤝

⮑yourusername: 🤝

⮑user38: GDJEIWOSK she’s so unserious 😂😂

⮑yourusername: ❤️❤️❤️

estebanocon: Amazing race, Y/n!

♡ by creator

user49: YOU DON’T BELONG HERE

charles_leclerc: great to see you finally live out your dream, mate ❤️🍾

⮑yourusername: luv ya charlie 🥂

⮑user43: CHARY/N CONFIRMED??

⮑ yourusername: 😬😑🤨

⮑ user44: Y/n really out in the trenches fighting every romance rumor

max33verstappen: I let you win…

⮑yourusername: Lying is a sin, Max Emilian Verstappen.

⮑ user45: dayumm the full government name too

⮑user46: and proper punctuation!!! max lock your doors 😰

⮑max33verstappen: Why do I feel like something bad is going to happen to me tonight?

⮑ yourusername: because something bad is going to happen to you tonight.

⮑user47: Max getting threatened on main 😂😂

danielricciardo: Great race and even better weekend! Fun getting to know you, Spitfire!

♡ by creator

user60: Anyone see the way she was crying when she got out of the car? Couldn’t even walk, so emotional. Pathetic.

⮑user61: Ome of the many reasons women aren’t supposed to race in F1

serenawilliams: love seeing a strong woman! Keep up the good work, Y/n! 🏆

⮑yourusername: i gasped

⮑yourusername: the 🐐 is here

user51: PR stunt.

user52: Ruining F1

⮑ user53: She’s turning F1 into a joke

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yourusername just shared a story!

caption: [otw home 😴😴]

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twitter

▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄

2.5 weeks later….

mercedesamgf1

Proud to announce that we have signed a new driver to fill Valtteri Bottas’ seat! Please officially welcome Y/n L/n to the paddock!

tagged: yourusername

liked by lewishamilton, valtteribottas and 573011 others

view 8739 comments

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✧ ⁺ ⁺ don’t wanna stop

at all…┊┊┊✧ ⁺ ⁺ 　°

▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄

Aaaannnnnnd scene!

DIRECTOR’S CUT: hehe part 1 done! Sorry for any innacuracies and/ or mistakes. Turns out making these SMAUs is A LOT of work. Like a boatload of work. Anyway, see u in part 2!

A little background info:

Seb is Spitfire’s mentor and funded her career since 2009

Charles Max and Spitfire terrorized their Karting generation

Seb gave her the nickname- in German F4 she was well known to be very blunt and had a very fast mouth. Seb called her it over live TV once and it stuck

Lando and Spitfire are old friends since they were always a little different from the rest of the kids - she was a girl and he looked like a toddler

Want to join the taglist? drop a comment below or message my inbox

#f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #charles leclerc x reader #driver!reader #f1 grid x reader #lewis hamilton x reader #lando norris x reader #juliette….spitfire #juliette….writes #ln4 x reader #max verstappen x reader

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hyukalyptus · 1 year ago

Text

a coincidence — rockstar!yeonjun x fem!reader

cw. rockstar!yeonjun x audiencemember!reader, chubby!reader implied, fem!reader, mentions of alcohol, oral (m. receiving), sex (condoms mentioned <3), roleplaying(?), orgasm denial, lmk if there's more. notes. this is part of @napofamoon's growing pain rock band!au collaboration :D thank you @nightlyawnzz for being a beta reader :3 and thank you angie for that one line of dialogue (didn't know if you wanted to like not be tagged lol), not super well edited, smut under cut <3 wc. 2.8K

Who is that? Yeonjun’s seen hundreds—thousands—of pretty girls at his concerts. But no one’s ever truly made an impression. Every once in a while, there’d be one that barely stuck out from the crowd, but nothing ever stuck. After a while, the crowds started getting blurry. Has performing become a bit boring for him? Maybe. There wasn’t a spark anymore. No reason to perform.

But you…you immediately caught his eye. A bright star in a sea of dull strangers—smiling, drinking, dancing to the music, having a blast. You looked fun, exciting, flirty. And he wanted—needed—to get to know you. But first, he needed to get your attention.

He’s cool, casual with his bass; he’s a natural. The way he moves with the music, pouty lips singing under his breath along with the frontman, the stage lights sparkling in his eyes—it didn’t take much focus for him to nail every song.

So he decided to have a bit of fun tonight. Moving a bit more, putting on a bit more of a show than usual, getting closer to the edge of the stage without being too obvious. All to get your attention. So why won’t you look at him? Just a bit closer and maybe…

Bingo.

You’ve locked eyes and there’s that something he’s been looking for. Something he’s been looking for for a while. That spark. That reason to put on a bit of a show.

And you could tell. You were just as into it as he was.

Watching his every move—flirting without crossing a line, giving him seductive looks, dancing in his direction. It was fun. It was thrilling. That unspoken desire between two strangers—and one of them admires the other before they’ve even met? How scandalous, hm? The tension grew and grew until—

“Thank you everyone; good night!”

But…what do you do now? How could he find you later? Oh, why didn’t he slip the security guard his number to give to you? Where are you? No, no, no, don’t leave.

There was nothing he could do; the lights were dim, the curtain was drawn, the crowd was spilling out the front door. You never left his mind, though. Not when he put his bass in its case, not when he zipped his hoodie up to leave, not when he plopped down on his hotel bed, never.

Desperately trying to get you off his mind, he heads down to the hotel bar. Oh, how pathetic is this? A world-famous rock star sitting alone at a hotel’s bar sipping a whiskey feeling sorry for himself? Over what? Some girl?

Please don’t sit there…he begs silently watching a strange figure take the seat in the bar stool next to him. Despite the need for alone time, he couldn’t help but glance over at the sound of your—

“Just a vodka soda, please.”

Oh, shit. It’s you. What does he do? Why are his hands so sweaty? When did he turn into such a loser? Getting this worked up over a girl. He needs to get your attention again, but he doesn't want to come off too pushy. You’re here alone too and maybe you wanna keep it that way.

Fuck it.

He clears his throat, cooly-maybe-not-so-cooly saying, “I saw you in the audience.” Just as you planned. Well, sort of. You didn’t mean to run into him. Glancing across the room at the hotel you were staying in to see that hot bassist sitting alone at the bar was pure luck.

But you need to keep it cool. Don’t be too…weird. Just a simple glance and gentle nod is enough.

“Did you enjoy the show?” He asks, knowing your answer. He could see your desire just as much as you could see his, but you weren’t gonna give in just yet. You nod again, adding a quiet hum. “Are you from around here or…?” Should he move a bit closer? Sure. Should he brush your knee with his fingertips? Why not? Oh, they give you goosebumps. You don’t pull away or even flinch. You’re welcoming this.

“No, I’m here on business. That’s why I’m, you know, at a hotel right now.”

“Right.” He pauses, like he has to think of the next thing to say, “I’m Yeonjun, by the way. But you already knew that.”

“And what makes you think that?”

“No reason,” he snarks. “Just that you bought a ticket to my show.”

“As if,” you roll your eyes. “I was bored and the show was right down the street.” Lie. All of this was lies. Of course you were a fan. Both of you knew that.

“So you got front-row seats from a scalper then?”

Now it’s time for some fun. Turning toward him, you introduce yourself, face inching closer and closer, his hand sneaking up higher on your thigh, your heartbeat getting faster with each millimeter. You maintain your confidence best you know how, but you must admit, he’s intimidating. Is it that way he unapologetically stares at your body? The way he’s flirting with a fan after a show? The way his lips look like they’d perfectly wrap around your—

“Do you always find fans to flirt with after the show?”

“No. Never,” he chuckles, shaking his head. “But you’re so…” he tucks some fallen hair behind your ear, eyes roaming your face, “gorgeous. I haven’t stopped thinking about you in the audience. Then boom, here you are at my hotel’s bar. Must be fate.”

“Or a coincidence.”

Both resorting to a shrug, there’s tension in the air like you’ve never felt. It’s excruciating. He’s leaning closer to you, oh, what was he about to say?

“I saw you watching me,” he whispers right against your ear—close enough to feel his breath. Fuck, he’s good. This is gonna be fun. And you’re gonna be a brat. At least for a little.

“I was watching all five of you,” you say, adding an annoying eye roll for good measure.

“Nope,” he says, sitting back and smiling like he knows a secret of yours. Which he may. “Only me.”

“So what if I was?” You narrow your eyes at him. You weren’t gonna break eye contact now. You can’t. But he doesn’t expect you to keep it. He expects you to cower and blush like everyone always does. But you don’t. And he likes that. “I’m waiting.”

“Makes me wonder what else you wanna watch me do is all.”

“Like what?”

“I dunno,” he chuckles. “You tell me. You were the one that couldn’t stop staring at me.”

That jerk. That stupid fucking jerk. Looking at him with heavy-lidded eyes, you glance down at his lips—side note: jesus fucking christ they look delicious but that’s beside the point right now—and lean in as close as you can without touching him. Parting his own lips, he tilts his head just barely and closes his eyes.

“Aw, you’re so cute.” You giggle. “You thought I was gonna kiss you?”

While you’re watching him retreat, defeated at his own game, he runs his fingers through his messy black hair.

“So you think I’m cute?”

Let’s give in now. “No.” You stand, taking a deep breath and walk behind him, sliding your hands down his chest, bending to meet his ear to whisper, “I think you’re fucking sexy.”

Goosebumps—but this time, they’re on him. Has anyone ever done this to him before? Let’s take it one step further. You bite his ear lobe gently and he sighs, your name falling out of his lips breathlessly.

“Hm?”

“Come upstairs with me,” he whispers.

Another step further. Sliding your hand up the back of his neck, you grip some of his hair, tugging it harshly, his eyes widening as he hisses.

“Don’t tell me what to do.”

“Will you come upstairs with me? Please.”

Turning him around in his barstool, you stand between his legs, his eyes roaming up and down your body. “I thought you’d never ask.”

It was all a blur as he took you upstairs—heading straight for the elevator, pushing you against the wall to finally crash his lips into yours, hands roaming your body trying to decide what part of it to grab onto. The ding of the elevator snaps you out of it before stumbling down the hallway to his room.

When he finally gets the door open and the door slams behind you, he’s gentler, like he wants to take his time with you. But you don’t. You drag him toward the bed and push him to the mattress to straddle his hips. Wrapping his hands around your waist, his hands slip under the skirt of your dress to squeeze and squeeze and squeeze.

Lifting off him, you lift your dress over your head as he eyes your pretty white lace lingerie while he smirks to himself. Fuck, he looks hot when he bites his lip like that. And, god, you need his shirt off. Tugging at it, you rock your hips back and forth to shimmy it off while he stays laying down. Hands on bodies, breath heavy, lips on each other’s…god, this was fun.

He flips you to your back, pressing his lips to your chest, trailing kisses over your collarbone. Pushing your face to the side to access your neck, he covers it in sloppy, wet kisses.

Since when was your bra so uncomfortable? And since when was it such a cock blocker? With that out of the way, his lips find your nipples, sucking harshly, but licking them to soothe the stings. Tugging at the waistband of his joggers, you can’t stop begging him to fuck you.

“Don’t tell me what to do,” he says, mimicking your tone from earlier.

“Please, Yeonjun—” you gasp at the feeling of his finger gliding over your clit slowly—slower than anyone’s ever touched you before. But it’s amazing. “Will you please fuck me?”

“Not yet,” he whispers. Standing to pull his pants and boxers down in one motion, he looks over your body. Oh, what was he gonna do with you and everything your body has to offer? Put you on your knees so he can cum all over your full tits? Fuck you from behind so he can see your ass jiggle? Fuck you in missionary so he can see your tits and tummy jiggle while he squeezes your thighs? There’s too many options to pick from.

But before he can make the decision, you crawl over to the foot of the bed, making a big show of it before reaching for his hips. Wrapping your hands around his hips to squeeze his ass, you pull him closer, kissing the tip of his cock. You were going to be the death of him. But you haven’t even tasted him yet. Glancing up at him through your eyelashes, you finally sink down on him completely.

And fuck do you feel good.

Fingers fumbling through your hair as he tries to steady himself, his head falls back to let out the most beautiful moan you’ve ever heard from a man. He whispers your name.

“What?” You look at him, your lips forming a pout while you wait for an answer. He responds with a simple eyebrow raise. “You said my name,” you say matter-of-factly. “What is it?”

“Don’t tease me.”

“What are you gonna do about it?”

Hooking his hands behind your knees, he pulls to flip you on your back while you let out a yelp. He boxes you in with his elbows, dragging his teeth over one of your nipples while you grip his hair, back arching to meet his mouth. He covers you in kisses. You don’t think anyone’s ever kissed you this much. Nothing will ever be enough after this.

As he makes his way down, your legs fall over his shoulders, showering your thick thighs with kisses. Using his mouth to put the smallest amount of pressure on your clit over your thong, he makes you whine and involuntarily grind against his chin, trying to relieve any tension. But he’s not giving in either. Backing away, he chuckles at you. That jerk. Why does he have to be such a jerk?

“Don’t do that to me,” you say. Eyes dark, he takes the waistband of your thong between his teeth, pulling them down slowly, letting them drag over your skin. Kneeling between your thighs, he keeps that spine-tingling eye contact as he rubs his tip over your center. That sends a jolt through your body, letting your brain finally catch up with your body.

“Will you wear a condom?”

Nodding, he quickly rustles through his suitcase messily splayed across the floor. Ripping the condom open with his teeth, he starts to roll it down himself, which is a glorious sight. And he can tell the effect it has on you. You smirk, glancing up at his eyes—eyes that are sparkling back at you.

“Eyes on my cock, baby.”

Fine by you. Sliding it down so slowly, you’re entranced. He knows exactly what he’s doing.

One hand pressing on your hip, the other lining himself up with your pussy, he pushes himself inside you, your eyes rolling back and he groans in your ear. Short shallow breaths grace your skin as he thrusts fast and hard, just like you wanted.

Bodies rocking together, he stares at your tits bouncing with his movements. Your nails start dragging down his back, but he quickly pulls out to turn you over, lifting you by your hips to bring you on all fours, your ass on full display. He spanks you, hard enough that your cheek will be pink tomorrow morning.

Pressing on your lower back to deepen the arch, he thrusts into you again. With your face squished against the mattress, his hands dig into the fat of your hips to hold you in place. The fire in your stomach roars, legs trembling, muscles weak. He yanks you up by your hair—you were hoping he’d do that—to press your back to his chest, letting you feel how heavy he's breathing.

“Don’t cum yet,” he says.

“Who said I was close?”

That evil laugh makes your eyes roll. “I can feel it.” Well, you can’t really argue with that. He was right. “Don’t.”

“You really like telling me what to do, huh?”

He snakes his hand in front of you to circle your clit, turning your whines to whimpers, desperately fighting the urge to let yourself go. What would happen if you did let yourself cum, though? It might be exciting to find out, hm? But being told what to do and when is just as exciting.

Grabbing his arm, your nails dig into his skin. He releases your hair, pushing you to the mattress roughly, face pressed against the mattress. Fists full of bed sheets, his hands spread across your ass, skin spilling through his fingers.

It’s getting increasingly difficult to hold it together—the only thing letting you is knowing how good you must be making him feel if he’s making noises like that.

“Yeonjun,” you gasp, his speed increasing. “Please.” The way he grunts tells you he’s close too, but he doesn’t plan on holding back. Pull my hair again, pull my hair again, pull my hair again, you keep thinking to yourself. And, oh, did you say that out loud? Because he pulls your hair again, finding an even deeper spot inside if you, the feeling spreading to your toes.

“Please, Yeonjun—” you yelp. “Please let me cum.”

He groans again, your name falling out of his lips before adding, “Cum for me.”

Your loud whimpers are muffled by the pillow you’ve shoved your face into, the fire in your stomach roaring louder and louder until—

Fuck…

God, this is good. Your orgasm explodes inside you, fireworks going off in all directions, filling every nook and cranny of your body. Praising you through your orgasm, he encourages you to cum hard around him, reminding you of how good your pussy feels around his cock.

Your body relaxes, but his doesn’t. He thrusts deeper inside of you, desperate to reach his own climax.

“Fuck—” he grunts, spanking you again. He loves seeing you jiggle like that. Reaching in front of you, he massages your tits, squeezing to get a firm grip.

His breath hitches, his thrusts getting sloppy as he twitches inside you, groaning through his climax.

Collapsing on top of you, he catches his breath, chest rushing and falling against your back. Rolling off you to plop onto the mattress, he turns to look at your face while there’s a stillness in the air.

“...so you’re a fan now?”

“Haven’t I always been?”

Chuckling, his face turns to the ceiling, running his fingers through his hair, resting his arms above his head. As you make eye contact, both of you burst out laughing—

“I didn’t think you’d like the roleplaying thing as much as you did,” you giggle.

“Well, what can I say? It was hot,” he says. “Great idea, baby.” Tucking a piece of your hair behind your ear, he smiles at you, kissing your forehead. “I love bringing you on tour with us.”

“I love it too.”

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jazzthatonewriterchick · 8 months ago

Text

Most Wanted (Mafia Boss!Toji x Spy!Self-Insert!Reader 18+ One Shot) [COMMISSION FILL]

"I’m gonna make sure you remember tonight and what happens when you fuck with a guy like me."

*IMPORTANT DISCLAIMER: THIS WORK CONTAINS R*PE & NONCON SEXUAL ACTS. PLEASE MIND THE TAGS AND READ LIGHTLY.

Pairing: Toji Fushigiro x Self-Insert!Reader (Enemies to Lovers)

Synopsis: You’re a highly skilled hitwoman. You’ve been doing this for years–getting paid to take hits on the wealthy and corrupt at your agency’s order. You figure taking a hit on the renowned Tokyo mafia boss Toji Fushigiro won’t be any different. However, things take a terrifying turn for you, and your skills are put to the test when you go undercover as a dancer at his favorite club and give him a private dance. But instead of killing you, Toji takes it upon himself to punish you and show you what happens when you fuck with him.

Warnings: Smutty Smut, 18+; Porn with Plot; Physical Fighting; Gun Play; Knife Play; Noncon/R*pe; Forced Deepthroat; Mutual Oral; Forced Orgasm; Lap Dancing/Pole Dancing; Doggystyle; Spit Play; Degradation + Praise; Rough Sex; Choking; Hair Pulling; Unprotected PIV Sex; Creampie; Some Aftercare

Disclaimer: I own none of the characters mentioned in this fic. However, as this is my writing, I do not give permission for my work to be reposted on any other sites that are not from my own accounts. Thank you!

Writer’s Note: Here you go lovely!! @curiouscutie143 I hope you & everyone other toji lovers enjoy this. I had so much fun writing this & I tried to make it as nasty as I could lol. I may write another mafia!toji thing in the future just cuz this shit was soooo fun. Enjoy! -Jazz

*********

“Peaches, you’re needed in the backrooms.”

You resist the urge to smile as you turn around from your seat at the bar, sipping on some water after your dance and sweet-talking a middle-aged bank broker into his pockets. It’s important to keep up the facade.

“Comin’,” you tell your coworker and turn to the broker who looks ready to dive into your cleavage.

“Sorry, but I’ve gotta run,” you sigh, acting apologetic. He frowns at you, making the wrinkles and lines in his face more evident. “But this shouldn’t take too long. Find me afterward?”

The broker puts his hand on yours, accidentally using the hand his gold marriage band sits on. “You’ve got it, baby,” he purrs. “I’ve got some dollars just waitin’ on ya.”

He gives you a wink before polishing off his whiskey and walking away from the bar, leaving you to breathe and collect your thoughts. You turn to the bottle girl, waving her down. “One shot of Patron, please!” you yell above the music blaring from the overhead speakers. She nods, scurrying to fetch you a much-needed shot. It will be the first alcoholic drink you’ve had since your shift started.

You suddenly hear a buzz from your right ear and instantly put your hand up against it under your hair. “V,” a gruff voice says into your earpiece. “Come in, V. It’s been 20 minutes since we last talked. Did you get him yet?”

You scan the upscale strip club pulsing with purple and red strobe lights and booming with activity: businessmen and regular-degular customers tossing money at the dancers on stage who spin around poles and do splits in their thongs and heels.

“Target was sighted five minutes earlier, sir,” you whisper into the earpiece given to you by your agency. “He is currently in the backrooms waiting for me. He came alone. He made eye contact with me ten minutes ago, so he may be asking for me.”

More like you made eye contact with him and had been since he walked in. He is impossible to miss with how tall and buff he is. His black V-neck tee stuck to his pectorals and abs while his jeans hung low on his hips.

You had expected he’d be flashier with his wealth by wearing obvious designer clothing, but you figured that he had to keep a low profile as well. Beneath the V-neck that hung from his neck, you could see the tattoos that roped over his chest just like his arms. The healed scar at the corner of his smirk as his green eyes scanned the place over told you that this was, indeed, your target.

He stood between two bodyguards in suits half his size, giving off an intimidating aura, especially with the guns at their hips. But you’d expect nothing less from Toji Fushigiro, Tokyo’s most notorious mafia boss.

He is powerful. He is wealthy. He is known throughout Tokyo and Japan for being the head of Tokyo’s infamous mafia gang, the spot being passed down by his father. He is also a criminal. White-collar crime, organized crime, drug trafficking––you name it, Toji does it.

He is also known for his scare tactics on those who owe him a debt. He’s held man over bridges, threatening to drop them in the murky waters below. He’s pistol-whipped. He’s choked. He’s stomped. He’s jumped guys in alleyways and left them for dead. He is a man of his word. If he tells you he’ll fuck you up if you don’t give him his money in a certain amount of time, he’ll do it.

He is the number one man current on your hitlist…and your agency’s. They knew it was a good idea to employ you, their top hitwoman, to Toji’s favorite club to take him out for good. Though he didn’t show up when you started at the club a couple of weeks ago, you knew it was only a matter of time until he showed up.

And now, he is. As soon as he was in the club, everyone’s eyes were on him. Dancers scurried to the pole and backstage to change into their best outfits to milk him out of his pockets. Bartenders and bottle girls quickly wiped down counters and took care of customers as quickly as possible so they could tend to him. Your manager barreled toward him with complimentary champagne and a spot in the VIP section.

As Toji walked with your manager, your eyes met across the room. They met again while he sat in the VIP section when he should’ve been watching a dancer twirl around the pole in front of him. Both times were fleeting, but they affected you completely. His green eyes, like mirrors to a forest, sent chills down your spine and made your stomach flip. His gaze was intense. Intimate. His eyes made it hard to relax or act like a normal dancer working her shift at the club.

He seemed to know what he was doing to you or he was sizing you up because he would simply smirk and sip on his whiskey on the rocks and puff on his cigar, his soft lips forming Os and blowing the smoke into the strobe-lit air. You can understand why so many women fell for him, but you aren’t one of them. The tiny gun strapped to your hip proves it.

Your real boss sighs in relief. “Excellent work,” he praises. “Unfortunately, we can’t see what you’re doing from over at headquarters and we’re still working on connecting the audio to hear what’s happening around you, so just fill us in on what you do next until then. All you have to do now is walk back there and complete the mission as we discussed.”

You toss an arm over the bar, stretching your coffin-shaped nails along the polished bar. “Of course,” you reply with a smirk. “Don’t I always?”

The bartender returns with your shot and you down it at once, relishing the burn and the way it loosened you right up. “I’ll keep you informed,” you say. “Just stay near the phone.”

“Be careful,” your boss says before the line cuts. You check your makeup in the bar before you get up from the bar and strut over to your beautiful, blonde coworker in her red lingerie and heels. “Hey, Yuki,” you greet her.

She smiles at you and guides you to the backrooms where the wealthier customers usually take the girls to get a dance…or something more. Sexual exchanges aren’t allowed, but the manager never complains if they bring in more money. You and Yuki peer down the hallway to the double doors of a private room where Toji’s bodyguards stand.

“Why the guards?” you ask, pretending to be confused. “Is the President here or somethin’?” Yuki turns you to face her, her eyes wide. “Even bigger,” she replies. “He’s the hot guy with the scar who comes in here often. He’s a mafia boss, apparently. Super hot, but very powerful. The bossman gave him his pick of any girl he wanted and he picked you.”

You do your best to hide your smirk. You knew you had him. “Me?” you ask breathlessly. “Why me?” Yuki shrugs, just as clueless. “Don’t know, but I was sent out to fetch you. He’s willin’ to pay double the amount of a regular lapdance, but he didn’t say if he wanted it topless, naked or not.” She gives you a worried look, furrowing her blonde brows. “You sure you up for it, hon?” she asks. “I know you’ve taken high rollers before, but he ain’t even a high roller! He’s beyond that!”

To sell it even more, you bite your lip, acting nervous but intrigued. “I can do it,” you reply. “Just hold my hand when you walk me in there.” Yuki obliges and squeezes your hand as you begin to walk toward the guards, heels clicking across the floor.

“Target is in sight,” you whisper into your earpiece, turning away from Yuki and putting your mouth in your arm to muffle your voice. “I’m walkin’ to the backrooms now where he’s located.”

“Excellent, V!” your boss says. “Just do it as we discussed. Don’t falter, don’t yield, and don’t lose focus.” The three rules of being a spy. You never forgot them. Finally, you come to the guards and Yuki smiles up at them. “I’m here with Peaches,” Yuki announces. “The girl Mr. Fushigiro asked for.”

You plaster a bright, charming smile on your face. It must work because the guards budge and step out of the way for you. One of them opens the door for you and Yuki, holding it. “Step in,” he orders. You thank him and scurry inside the dimly lit room with an included mini-bar, a single stripper pole, and leather lounging couches. Toji currently sits in one of them, legs spread and eyes hooded as he puffs on a blunt and sips on his drink.

His green eyes pierce into your very soul when he eyes you in the doorway. “Here she is, sir,” Yuki says. “Just as you requested. And she’s just as pretty as I told you she is.” She moves your hair out of your face, exposing your pretty false flashes, Fenty Beauty gloss, and accentuated features to the boss.

Toji hums, liking what he sees. “Yes, she is,” he agrees. “Tell your boss thanks. He can expect some good business out of me once the night is through.” Yuki nods and gives your arm a squeeze. “Good luck,” she whispers before heading off. The doors close and you are left alone with your hit.

Neither one of you moves toward the other, staying posted to your spots. Toji takes a puff on his blunt and lights taps it above the ashtray next to him. “Y’know, you’re mighty pretty up close,” he purrs. “I’ve been wonderin’ what you’d look like up close instead of across the room.”

You finally look at him, noticing how big he is even sitting down. “So you’ve been watchin’ me tonight?” you ask. He nods, his eyes trailing down your form. “I knew I hadn’t seen ya before,” he continues. “I come here often and I would’ve remembered seein’ a face and a rack like that.”

You scoff, rolling your eyes. “Charmer, aren’t you?” you sarcastically question.

He smirks at your wittiness. He likes that bite in a woman. “When I wanna be, but you’ll have to forgive me; the liquor makes me bolder than I already am.” His tongue jets out to lick his lips. “But you’ve gotta give a guy credit for bein’ honest and that lil’ outfit don’t leave much to the imagination.”

You go to wrap your arms around yourself but then stop. You need to sell this and if you’re forced to stand here in a mini dress that barely covers your ass or titties with heels that could crush a bitch in front of your hit who also happens with me enticingly sexy, then so be it. Toji’s gaze softens somewhat, noticing your discomfort. “You are very beautiful, Peaches,” he genuinely says. “Is it okay if I use your name?”

“Thank you, Mr. Fushigiro,” you softly reply. “And no, it’s fine. It’s what I’m known as around here anyway. I started here five weeks ago.” He nods, sipping on his whiskey. “Call me Toji.”

“Toji,” you parrot, slowly striding towards the pole in the middle of the room, an overhead speaker playing soft R&B overhead. “You’re quite the man. The entire club seems to be in a frenzy over you.”

His smirk widens, proud and cocky. “They always are,” he chuckles. “Don’t know why. This place gets plenty of people bigger than me all the time, especially international celebs. I heard Drake was here not too long ago.” You give a dry “mm-hmm” as you grasp the pole. Toji takes that answer another way. “What, you don’t like Drake?” he snorts.

“He’s okay,” you reply, short and impatient. “So what are you here for? To talk or to watch me dance?” You wrap a hand around the pole and pop your hip out, waiting for him to give you an order.

“Depends.” He sits up, leaning forward to get a better look at you. “What are you willin’ to do tonight for me? ‘Cause we can just sit here and talk. I wouldn’t mind hearin’ that pretty voice all night.” His green eyes gleam with mirth and a small hint of lust.

“Definitely a charmer,” you chuckle. “That’s fine if you’re willin’ to pay, though we don’t have a rate for conversation.”

He laughs at this, the sound deep and raspy yet pleasant to the ear. He takes another puff on his blunt before he lowers it down onto the ashtray. “Then let’s cut to the chase,” he sniggers. “It’s $500 for a 10-minute dance, right? I want 20 minutes, so that would make…”

He begins to count on his fingers but then stops. “A lot,” he chuckles. “I’ll probably ask for you to strip though. Are you okay with that, Peaches?”

You feel something flip inside of you at the mention of all of that money and how passive he is about it. Any girl working here would do whatever he wanted for 20 minutes! “I’m a stripper,” you reply passively. “What else am I gonna do?”

Toji tsks, grimacing at you. “Damn, what kinda attitude is that?” he laughs. “A beauty like you should be more adamant about showin’ off her body. Can I offer you a drink to get you in the mood?” He nods at the mini bar overflowing with bottles of tequila, vodka, and liquor.

“I don’t drink on the job,” you reply. “Music helps.” You suddenly hear a buzz in your ear and then your boss’ gruff voice: “Give me the rundown, V,” he demands.

You want another drink?” you ask. You nod at Toji’s empty glass and he agrees, so you walk over to the bar. To him, you’re seemingly looking for a bottle of whiskey, bent down to look through the racks. “With the target now,” you whisper. “Just waiting for the right time to attack. Give me a second.”

Once the line goes dead, you walk back over to Toji and pour him a bottle. As you bend down, you give him an ample view of your titties much to his enjoyment. As you do, you slip the gun out of your dress and place it under the couch where only you can find it. Once done, you leave the bottle with him, and step back, hands on your hips. He sits back against the couch, preparing for the show. “Whenever you’re ready, darlin’,” he purrs, his eyes filled with obvious lust and attraction.

With a slow song playing above and the lights dipping into an almost ominous red shade, you begin to move to the beat. You roll your hips, swaying them side to side and front to back, almost as if you’re grinding on Toji despite him being several feet away from you. You let the music take control of you as you grasp the pole and begin to grind against it, dipping low to wind your ass in his face.

You do a few tricks on the pole for him–jumping and spinning around it, your thighs wrapped tight around the metal pole; squatting and lifting up your dress to bounce your ass, etc.–before you turn to look at him over your shoulder, flipping your hair. Toji’s eyes are hooded and lustful, all from the weed, the whiskey, and the effect you’re having on him. Despite the situation, it feels good to have an attractive man ogle at your plump frame.

“Take off the dress,” he demands, a slight growl in his voice. You don’t turn to face him, instead still facing the wall as you carefully unzip the back of your dress. The thin piece of clothing falls off of your body, revealing all of your rolls, curves, and the matching glittery bra and thong set.

“Shit!” Toji hisses, ogling at your asscheeks in your glittery thong. “Your back don’t hurt carryin’ that around?”

You finally turn around and find him leaning forward, his hands clenching his thighs. “You don’t look like you’re ready,” you giggle, winding your hips and toying with your titties in their cups. “Did you talk too much big game, Toji?”

The boss looks like he can’t even speak, his scarred lips parted as he stares you down. “Goddamn,” he hisses. “How some horny fuck didn’t propose to you and steal you out of here yet is beyond me.”

You give a light, tittering laugh, smiling down at him. “Well, if someone did that, I wouldn’t be here with you.” He looks happy with that response. You then twist around and bend over for him, giving him a full view of your full, round, perfect ass. “Can you handle it, baby?” you purr. “Can you handle me?”

You quickly pop up and turn around, finding him shifting in his seat and gritting his jaw. “I should be askin’ you that,” he growls. “Come the fuck here.” Deciding not to tease him any longer, you strut over to him, feeling sexy and irresistible. It’s strange that the same man you were sent to kill is doing this to you.

His eyes have grown several shades darker, reminding you of the deepest, darkest parts of a jungle. “Dance for me,” he demands. “Not on the pole; on me.” He opens his legs wider for you and pats his lap, his bottom lip caught between his teeth. Though clients often get handsy when dancers give them lapdances here, you decide that it’s best to do as he says.

Plus, you’d be lying if you said that you aren’t curious to feel him for yourself. So you place your hands on his thick, muscular highs and begin to roll your body before squatting down, popping up between his legs. You reach up to drag your palms and long nails down his chest, feeling up his abs and toned stomach. He allows it, staring down at you with a look that would make a nun blush.

You then stand up between his legs before turning around and lowering yourself down into his lap. “Shit,” he whispers, watching the way you work your ass along his lap and the jean-clad bulge that has begun to make an appearance. You twerk and bounce on top of him before he takes a drag of his blunt, blowing the air away from you. “You ever shotgun before?” he asks, his lips close to your ear now.

Your body grows hot from him being so close, the attraction ironically magnetic. Slowly, you shake your head and Toji chuckles, adoring your mix of cute and sexy. “C’mere.” You lean back and tilt your head up while he takes another puff of his blunt. He holds the marijuana smoke before puckering his lips up and leaning down as if to kiss you. Slowly, the smoke travels from his lips to yours in an indirect kiss that leaves you breathless and your head dizzy.

You can’t deny it: you’re wet. Your pussy has never been this wet for any man before…and he’s the enemy! Toji seems to feel it too judging by the hard-on you can feel pressing into your thigh. You shift onto his knee and begin grinding your ass back, doing your best to not grind your pussy against his thigh.

“So you got a name other than that stripper shit?” he randomly asks you. You are immediately taken out of your lustful haze, remembering why you’re here. “I don’t remember us talkin’ about personal shit,” you dryly reply. “I don’t give my real name out to men I don’t know.”

Then, for the first time tonight, Toji touches you. His big hand lowers onto your thigh and squeezes. You don’t try to move it but you are alarmed. “Oh, but you do know me, darlin’,” he replies, digging his fingers into your flesh. “And I know you, V.”

At the mention of your real name, you freeze. The world freezes with you, everything seeming to cease their existence including the music that continues to play overhead. But you don’t hear it. All you can hear is your own blood pumping loudly in your eardrums. Toji releases you and you quickly jump off of him, turning toward him.

He just sits there staring at you, a humorous smirk playing on his lips. The smile is no longer attractive to you anymore. Suddenly, you feel disoriented. You feel like you may vomit or drop to the floor in your heels. Your earpiece buzzes to life again in your ear. “V!” your boss calls. “We just got the audio working again. What’s happening?” He sounds panicked, just as much as you are.

Toji bares his pearly whites at you as he calmly reaches for his whiskey. “Ah, now them wheels are turnin’ in that pretty little head,” he chuckles. “You know, you dance almost as good as you lie. I can see why you were put here to go undercover.” He takes a sip and licks the remnants away from his top lip, still staring you down.

“Ain’t that right?” he asks and it feels like a snake has just silvered up your back and sunk its teeth in you, paralyzing you.

“Y/N, he knows!” your boss hisses. “Stand down! Don’t do anything stupid!” He continues to yell and scream at you about aborting the mission and telling you that someone will be there soon, but you can’t quite hear him. It’s like you’re underwater and he’s standing above ground, his voice muffled and murky.

For a few seconds that seem like a lifetime, you and Toji stare each other down, waiting for the other to make the first move. Your body kicks into fight or flight, the freeze stage having already been awakened. Inisctively, you shift into fight mode. Quickly, you take the bottle of whiskey and bring it down towards Toji’s head, but he catches your wrist like it’s nothing.

You grunt, wincing at the pain of his grip. “Oh, you wanna play, huh?” he cackles. “Goin’ against your boss’ little rules just to take me out? How cute.”

With a wail of effort, you swing your other hand at his head but he catches that too. Counting on this, you bring your leg up and kick him hard in the groin. He immediately releases you and lurches forward, holding his junk, giving you a chance to grab your gun from under the couch.

“Don’t move,” you growl, cocking the gun at him. “You move and I’ll shoot.”

Toji, red in the face and panting, glares up at you. “Please,” he scoffs. “You act like you’re the first bitch that’s put a gun to my head.” Before you can blink, he is swinging the bottle at you. You duck which is a mistake because Toji uses that opening to tackle you to the ground. You struggle and growl, turning into an animal as he wrestles with you for your gun.

He ends up winning, flipping you over and pinning you down to the floor with his body. “Get off!” you scream, still wriggling around. “Get off me!” Click. The barrel of your gun presses to your temple. “If you don’t shut up, I’ll make you regret it,” he growls.

His fingers move your hair back away from your ear and pry the earpiece out of your ear. He snarls at it as if it’s nothing but a bug. “God, they made these things so much smaller now.” He stands up, keeping the gun on you, and stomps on the earpiece, breaking it. “Whoops!” he mockingly says. “They should still be able to find ya though. I don’t plan on movin’ ya to another location…if you don’t piss me off.”

The gun clicks again. “Turn around slowly,” he demands. Despite your reluctance to do so, you slowly turn around and face him, lying on your back with your own shit pointed at you as Toji stands above you. “How did you know?” you whisper.

He smirks, appearing like the Devil in your eyes. “It wasn’t hard, darlin’,” he chuckles. “Dancers don’t eye me up the way you were. You looked like you were out for blood, not dollars. Not to mention the gun I saw at your hip.” You flush, cursing yourself. You should’ve been smarter. Of course, he would know. He spends his days having people hunt him down.

His smirk fades, his expression darkening. “Who sent you?” he demands. “And don’t lie. You don’t wanna know what I do with liars.” The gun cocks, his finger trained on the trigger. You glare at him, hating his guts even more than you had before you met him. So you weakly confess. He guffaws, shaking his head in disbelief. “Damn, those guys? They’ve been after me for years!”

“You’re a criminal,” you hiss despite the gun in your face. “You only got this far because of you dippin’ your hands in crime and gettin’ blood on your fists. I’m here to stop you.”

Toji’s brows raise in shock though he’s intrigued by your stubbornness. He squats down in front of you, still pointing the gun at your head. “And how are you gonna do that, huh, little girl?” he asks.

Not even thinking, you hollow your lips and wallop a glob of spit in Toji’s handsome face before quickly turning over and scrambling to the door. However, Toji is just as fast and has his big, tatted arms wrapped around you, squeezing you tight. You can’t elbow him anywhere because your arms are stuck in his, leaving you to kick and wriggle.

“Oooh, I love a feisty bitch,” he chuckles. “Makes it a lot more fun to break ‘em.”

He begins to walk with you over to a nearby wall and slams you against it, knocking the air out of your lungs. You find yourself pressed against the wall and him who is equally as hard and unmoving as the solid wall against your front.

He shoves the side of your face into the wall while he pins your arms behind your back, causing your muscles to explode with pain at being stretched back too far. “Get off!” you cry. “O-Ow, that hurts!”

Toji tugs on your arms again, emitting a weak whine of pain from you. “That’s what you get for fuckin’ with me,” he growls. “Now what should I do with you? Kill you? Leave your agency to find you here?” The gun once again presses against your temple, cold and unrelenting.

You squeeze your eyes shut, tears pushing back the ducks. You can’t beat this. You can’t fight this. “Do it,” you sob. “Just do it!” You go limp against him, waiting to feel that bullet penetrating your skull and for the void to come to collect you…but instead, Toji takes the gun away from you, leaving an indent on your temple. “No,” he says. “I’ve got a better idea.”

You open your eyes, confused but also scared. What else is he planning to do with you? Before you can answer, you hear the undeniable sounds of his zipper coming down and the clinking of his metal belt buckle. Your body instant seizes, fear flooding your insides.

“I’m gonna make sure you remember tonight and what happens when you fuck with a guy like me. Tonight, babydoll, you’re mine. You don’t have a choice. You’re mine and I’m gonna show you what that means.”

With his belt finally in his hands, he trains the gun on you. “Put your hands against the wall and stick that ass out,” he demands, his voice void of all emotion. “Do it now.” Outnumbered and out of tricks, you do as he says, trembling as you do so.

“Bad girls like you need to be punished,” he says before the belt comes down hard onto your right asscheek. WHACK! The sharp sound of the leather hitting the soft, jiggly flesh of your ass penetrates the air. It feels like fire has licked your skin and your knees buckle at the pain. “Ow!” you cry out.

Toji cackles at your agony, finding enjoyment and cuteness in it. “What, that hurt?” he laughs. “You don’t like the pain? I’m sure a girl like you has taken plenty of worse things before.” He raises his arm and whips the same cheek twice.

WHACK! WHACK! You flinch at each sharp hit, each one becoming more painful than the last. “Hurts, don’t it?” he snickers. “Don’t you regret pullin’ that shit with me now, babydoll, hm?”

He then proceeds to whip your left cheek, not allowing you any time to recover or breathe.

WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! You bite your lip so hard that you nearly draw blood, the burning of your backside too much to bear. “S-Stop!” you whine. “Please stop!”

Toji’s big hands wrap around your mouth, covering it. “Don’t speak,” he whispers into your ear, his breath the scent of whiskey and mint. “You don’t get to speak. Just take it.” You have no choice but to do so as he wails on your ass again and again, the leather cracking like fire against your jiggly ass. “God, that recoil,” he groans. “I’m gonna enjoy my time with you, baby doll.”

You don’t answer, too busy holding back tears that have begun to push at your eye sockets. Toji finally stops and tosses his head back to laugh. “Are you cryin’?” he laughs in disbelief. “Damn, and all from some spankings? And here I thought you were this tough bitch.”

You burn with resentment and humiliation, but all of that is pushed aside when he forces you to stand up straight and tugs your arms behind your back. You begin to panic but don’t say anything as he tightens his belt around your wrists and locks the belt buckle around them. “Turn around,” he finally says.

Despite your tiny sobs, you do so and face him. His eyes are hooded and dark with obvious lust for you. He uses one big hand to force you onto your knees, right in front of his open fly and hard cock that you can see pressing against his designer briefs. “I’ll give you somethin’ to cry about,” he growls. He points the gun at your face, specifically at your lips. “Open your mouth and suck on it.”

His expression, dark and chilling you to the bone, makes you feel as if you don’t have a choice..and not the loaded gun pressing to your lips. Swallowing hard, you shakily open your mouth and he slides the pistol in. The metal feels cold and hard in your mouth, making you cringe. “That’s it,” Toji chuckles. “Take that shit, baby. C’mon, don’t you wanna please me?”

Slowly, you begin to suck, hollowing your lips out against the gun. Though you tremble and shake, you squeeze your eyes shut and try to imagine the gun as a hard, warm, throbbing cock instead. Toji moans as if you’re sucking on him, watching your tongue swirl along the barrel and your head bob.

“Fuck, baby doll,” he groans. “You’ve got such a mouth on ya.” He slides it in further, the metal scraping against your teeth, until he reaches your throat. You gag and try to pull away, but Toji grips the back of your head.

“Uh-uh, mama,” he snickers. “You don’t get to get outta this. C’mon, just open your throat and breathe through your nose. You can do it.” He continues to push and pull, the gun sliding in and out of your mouth, while you struggle to breathe. You can feel sweat pool under your pits and between your cleavage all from your fear. Toji’s finger isn’t on the trigger anymore, but it doesn’t matter. He could change that in a second.

So you suck and you slurp and you bob your head up and down like a good little slut, staring him into his eyes while spit drips from your lips. Finally satisfied, Toji pulls the gun out of your lips now coated in your saliva. “You fuckin’ slut,” he pants. “Now I need to try ya out for myself.”

He pockets the gun and, with one hand, pulls down his briefs. His big, long, throbbing, veiny, perfect-looking dick springs to life. It damn near hits you in the face, making you gasp. “Sorry, mama,” he chuckles. “He just likes you.”

He wraps a hand around his 12-inch dick, pumping it lewdly in your face. “So you finna stare at it or suck it?” he deadpans, but he doesn’t wait for you to answer or recover.

“W-Wait,” you stammer.

That’s all you get to say before his cock is pushing between your lips and into your mouth. He releases a moan when he first slides into your mouth, his eyes fluttering shut at the feeling of your wet mouth, soft lips, and tongue wrapping around him. Meanwhile, you’re struggling to take him. His girthy dick stretches out your jaw and your throat as he pushes himself in deep.

“C’mon, babydoll,” he chuckles. “That can’t be all you can take of me.” He continues to push, filling your tongue and nostrils with the scent and taste of him. The walls of your throat have no choice but to accommodate his size though it burns and you gag as he begins to slowly yet roughly thrust into your mouth. “Maybe this will help ya out,” he says. Suddenly, he retrieves a pocket knife from his pocket and flicks it open.

Fear flares into your stomach, making you want to jump away, but his large hand keeps you locked down on his cock. He presses the knife to your throat, chuckling as he does. “Careful now,” he warns. “You lean too close and that pretty neck might get sliced. I just wanna encourage you to do a good job.” He grips your hair and wrenches it up to look at him. “And you will do a good job for me, won’t you?” he asks.

His tone makes it so you can’t refuse, so you say yes and allow him to force your head back down onto his cock before pulling it back. He does that for a while––pushing and pulling your head down onto his dick like you’re his toy while he uses your sloppy, wet mouth like it’s a fleshlight. “Fuck!” he shouts to the ceiling. “This fuckin’ mouth is heaven, baby. I hope your pussy is just as tight as your tight ass throat.”

You gargle and mumble on his cock, causing pleasurable vibrations to travel throughout his body and his heavy balls that drip with your saliva. He continues to fuck your face and ruin your makeup, marveling at how beautiful you look choking on his cock. “Look at you, you little slut,” he dreamily sighs. “Makeup all fucked up. Hair ruined. You’re just a little mess for me, aren’t ya?”

He slides his cock out of your throat and you take a grateful gulp of air, strands of your hair stuck to your wet lips and chin. He takes the knife and slides it along your chin, smirking down at you. “Now it’s my turn to taste you,” he murmurs. Before you can protest, he is picking you up, tossing you over his shoulder, and placing you on your stomach with your arms still tied behind you.

“Please!” you sob, beginning to cry again. Toji straddles your ass, one hand massaging the globes of fat in your thong while the other holds his knife. “Please what, baby?” he mockingly coos. “I ain’t even touch you yet.” You then feel the cool metal of the knife dragging up your spine, sending shivers down your spine. “Time to get your sexy ass out of these fuckin’ clothes,” he growls.

You flinch when you feel the knife drag up to your left shoulder where it cuts the bra strap. He does the same to your left one before positioning you onto your knees with your wrists slung over the couch arm. Your tits are now exposed, hanging like ripe, juicy fruit beneath you. Then off comes your thong with two swipes of the knife cutting through the thin straps. You sob helplessly as the cool air touches your sodden, wet pussy.

“Damn, baby!” Toji cackles. “Are you wet from all this? You naughty little girl.” His middle and forefingers gently probe your entrance and slide up and down your slit, dragging unwanted moans out of you. “I’m gonna have some fun with you,” he chuckles. “Make sure you never forget about me.”

He then bends you over the couch and proceeds to put his hot, wet, experienced mouth on your pussy while the knife stays pressed against your thigh. You whine at the feeling of his soft lips and tongue swirling along your clit and every sensitive part of you, opening your pussy up to more of him. He drowns in your pussy, pushing his face into it as far as he can and letting his tongue do all of the talking.

You can’t stop the moans and gasps that escape you. The pleasure is just too much and too good! What a shame that a man who is so good at eating kitty is the same man you were sent here to kill. “Toji,” you moan, using his name for the first time ever. “Please…please!”

Toji’s one hand massages and smacks your ass, becoming aoslutely obessed with it. “What do you need, babydoll?” he coos against your clit. “You need somethin’?” You nod helplessly though you have no clue what you need at this point. “Tell me you’re mine then,” he growls. “Say it and fuckin’ mean it. Say you’re my good little slut.”

You keep your lips clamped tight, not wanting to swallow your pride or give up that tiny part of you that hates him still. SPANK! Your ass stings from his assault on your ass, his hand no doubt leaving a handprint. “Say it!” he bellows.

At the blinding pain, pleasure, and delirium, you break. “I’m yours!” you sob. “I’m your good girl! Your good little slut! I’m everything you want me to be!”

Toji, pleased, presses soothing kisses to your burning asscheek. “Good girl,” he praises. “See how easy that was? Now you get your reward.” Suddenly, you feel his thick cock smack against your pussy once, twice, three times and then he is sliding home inside of you.

Your mouth goes slack and your eyes grow wide as he begins to rocks his hips into, allowing you to get used to him. He is big. You can feel him stretching out every part of your cunt as he sinks deeper into your velvety, wet walls. “Fuck,” he sighs, one hand clutching your hip. “Not bad, babydoll. Your pussy is definitely the best one I’ve fucked…so far.”

He begins to fuck you harder, faster, railing you as if this will be his last time doing so. Your moans and huffs of breath become louder and more intense the harder and deeper his cock plunges inside of you. “W-Wait!” you gasp. “Slow down! I can’t…can’t!”

Toji chuckles, watching your ass bounce against his pelvis as he fucks you. “Sorry, honey,” he says, not sounding sorry at all. “I couldn’t help it. You just sound so cute.”

Your thighs clench and your body writhes as he rails you, unable to take this deep dicking into the couch. You try to move away but the knife suddenly sliding against your throat stops you. “Uh-uh, babydoll,” he growls. “Don’t run from me. I wouldn’t try it if I were you.” He then pops his knee up, his foot up on the couch, and reaches a part inside of you that makes you feel unimaginable pleasure.

“Just take me like a good girl, okay?” he whispers. “You can do that for me if you wanna live.” You don’t have a choice in the matter, mostly because of the hold he has on your arms, pulling you back as drives himself forward again and again. The sound of your moans, his grunts, and the lewd plap, plap, plap as his balls swing against your overly-sensitive clit and his hips slam into your ass fill the air, drowned out by the music playing outside.

“Who would’ve thought,” Toji pants into your ear. “C.O.D.E.’s good little spy gettin’ her brains fucked out on a mission, huh? I bet they’d love to see this.” His free hand releases your arms and yanks on a handful of your hair. “I bet they’d love to see you full of me,” he growls. “Full of this dick and my cum.”

He presses the knife deeper into your throat, just enough for you to feel the sharp, jagged edge of the blade. “You wanna cum for me, baby?” he asks. “You gonna be a good slut and take all my cum too?”

“Please!” you whimper, losing your mind and all of your pride. “Please just make me cum! I’ll do whatever you want, Toji!” He takes the knife from your throat and replaces it with his hand, choking you as he fucks you stupid. “Then do it,” he demands. “Fuckin’ cum on this cock while I fill you up. Cum with me now!”

“Ah, ah, fuck, I-I’m gonna cum!” you deliriously sob as he continues to pound into you. “I’m gonna…gonna–!”

You don’t get a chance to finish because your pussy has finally reached its limit and explodes all over him, your walls squeezing around him and your clit shuddering. You reaching your peak triggers Toji and he grips your throat and ass as he comes to a still, his entire body tensing. “Fuck!” he bellows, cumming deep, deep, deep inside of you.

You gasp as you feel a rush of warm liquid flood into your pussy while you gush all over his cock, dripping down his balls. He fills you to the brim, giving you so much that it has no choice but to trickle down your thighs. He doesn’t immediately pull out though––he continues to fuck you, albeit slowly and sloppily, before giving your tit one feeble squeeze and finally pulling out of you.

You weakly moan at the feeling of being empty yet used, your pussy twitching and aching. “Mmm, now look at that,” he sighs dreamily, staring at your cum-soaked cunt. “Now that’s a properly fucked pussy if I do say so myself.” He takes a handful of your chin, squeezing your cheeks together, and presses a kiss to your forehead. “Not bad, babydoll.”

You don’t respond, too weak and too tired to do so. You’re too tired to even feel any amount of disgust for him and shame in yourself for failing the mission and enjoying the sex. “Let’s get this off of you,” Toji says, his hands unbuckling the belt from your wrists. “I’m gon’ need it for myself, anyway.” He releases your wrists and lets you lay on the couch, panting and coated in sweat.

Your makeup and hair are ruined. Your underwear is in tatters. You feel used and fucked-out. You can only stare at Toji as he quickly gets dressed and straightens out his clothes, his cock still covered in you. “I’m sorry, baby, but I’ve gotta go before your people get here.” He gives you an apologetic smile. “But gimme a call since I’m sure you can find that out. Maybe we can do this again.”

He then moves to the extra bathroom behind the couch and retrieves a robe which he covers you with. “See?” he chuckles. “I ain’t that big of an asshole.” He presses a kiss to your lips before bending down to pick up your thong. “Thanks for this,” he says, dangling it in front of you. “And the dance. I’ll cherish both forever.”

You don’t say anything, even as you watch him leave, taking your thong and your dignity with you.

Then you are alone. At some point, you find the strength to stand up and wobble to the bathroom where you take a hot shower, washing the scent of sex and cum off of you. When you return, dressed in your robe, the door busts in, and your boss and fellow spies enter the room, guns drawn and masks on their faces.

“V!” your boss shouts, instantly dropping his weapon and running to you. His eyes widen at your state, looking for any bruises or scars. There are none…that are physical, anyway. “V, what happened?” he asks.

And as the events of tonight come flooding back to you at full speed, you muster up the most believable lie you can, clutching your robe closed:

“He overpowered me.”

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