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celestie0 · 3 days

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gojo satoru x reader | college au [18+]

kickoff ch.12 how you get the girl

ᰔ pairing. college au - soccer player! gojo x film major! reader

ᰔ summary. gojo satoru is the most popular guy on your college campus. he's tall, funny, hot, not to mention he's the most talented soccer forward the school has seen in years. but he's also a frat dude, which puts him in a world very different from your own, as he spends most of his nights partying while you spend most of yours working on your annoying film major assignments. but when he reaches out to you for a favor, you realize that helping him out might have something in it for you too.

ᰔ warnings/tags. 18+, fem reader, fluff, angst, smut, college au, fraternities, sororities, partying, drinking/alcohol, romance, jealousy, pining, slow burn, opposites to lovers, friends to lovers, she falls first he falls harder, gojo being an idiot, marijuana use, sexism, sexual harassment (verbal only)

ᰔ chapter. 12/x (probably 18)

ᰔ words. 11.3k

a/n. man the color scheme for this chapter is kinda giving BRAT lolol...i mean gojo IS brat. anywho, i don't have much to say at the beginning of this chapter but i do have a LOT to say at the end of it sooo see y'all at the bottom!! hope u enjoy. also BIG THANK YOU to @whereflowerswenttodie who beta read parts of this chapter for me n convinced me not to scrap it lol

nav. masterlist

☾·̩͙꙳ moodboard no.1 :: ♬.*ﾟplaylist

11:03am you: hi! 11:03am you: good luck today 11:03am you: incase i don’t see you

11:05am Gojo Satoru: Why wouldn’t you? Aren’t you gonna be on the field for your newsletter shots?

11:07am you: i mean yes but idk where i’m gonna be stationed so 11:07am you: it might not be on UTokyo’s side of the field

11:08am Gojo Satoru: Okay then I’ll look for you before the game starts

11:10am you: no pls don’t. coach yaga thinks i distract you. i don’t want to get yelled at again. he scares me :(

11:12am Gojo Satoru: Haha you’re silly 11:13am Gojo Satoru: East side entrance at 2 11:13am Gojo Satoru: Be there

11:14am you: or be square?

11:15am Gojo Satoru: Yea whatever shape you wanna be in is fine cutie

It’s a bright sunny day outside, perfectly blue sky with a scattering of fluffy clouds seen outside the window of your shared room in your apartment, and you realize spring is fully here from the way birds chirp past the glass. You’re stuffing your camera case full of chilled Kodak film rolls, your last stash left, and it’s the last piece of equipment you pack before slinging the strap over your shoulder and heading out the door.

Mina had offered to give you a ride to the stadium since your car’s still at the shop, but you’re happy you opted for the bumpy bus ride and although you come close to low-grade concussions from the bang of your head to the window at every other speed bump, the music in your ears while someone else is operating a public transport vehicle helps you think creatively before shooting shots.

It was surprise enough that Mina of all people was going to this game, and when you questioned her about it in the morning, she looked at you like you were absurd to assume anyone from UTokyo wouldn’t be at this game, and sure enough, it’s all anyone on Instagram has been repping on their stories or talking about in the bustling minutes before lectures. Even Utahime was going to this game, and she hates all intercollegiate sports. You knew the game was a big deal, given the way Coach Yaga was yelled at via email by the Dean of UTokyo to make sure the team wins today because a multimillion dollar Nike sponsorship would be greenlit by the prospect (for some reason you were cc’d in an email chain among divisional higher-ups, but you weren’t opposed to snooping in on conversations that were entirely outside of your tax bracket).

It’s because it’s the second to last home game before the season ends, and apparently this has been statistically the best season the UTokyo D1 Men’s Soccer team has played since the new millenia. No pressure to the players on that fact, but failure wasn’t much of an option for them anymore.

And you can feel the stakes the second you step inside the stadium. Packed would be an understatement, there were people flooding the aisles, overbooked for the sake of the university pocketing an extra buck no doubt, but spectators could care less since they were able to at least get in on the basis of that irresponsibility in the first place, despite the stadium’s capacity having long been reached before the pregame festivities even start. Banners and signs drape over railings with the school’s striking blue and golden colors, every single replay screen is lit up and brightly pixelated at every north, south, east, and west entrance for inclusive viewing. As you pass VIP security and make it into the lower field-level entry, the scattered chants from the crowd amplify in volume and you almost wince a little to yourself from the noise. The stadium felt like a living, breathing entity, pulsing with the collective heartbeat of everyone inside.

You’ve never been more overstimulated in your life, except instead of finding it frightening, it was electrifying. And for once, you think you can understand what an athlete must feel when playing on their own home turf surrounded by those that are wholeheartedly rooting for them.

Hana is quick to spot you, panic clear across her face as she regards you with a couple pages with your assigned vantage points, a rushed briefing session, and then she’s darting down the sidelines to make sure equipment is set up appropriately where needed. She’s understaffed, given you told Utahime about Kai’s little intervention last week and she made a nasty point to the university (and possibly a handful of legal threats) and they relented in firing him. So now the three of you were down a photographer, and the extra work shows in the instructions she gave you as you skim the sheets.

A glance at your phone tells you it’s close to 2pm, and your eyes take in the expanse of green on the field. UTokyo’s players practice kicking shots off to the right goal post, while YCU’s players practice shots off to the left. You can’t spot where Gojo is, but you faithfully head down to the East Side entrance like he asked you to.

When you round the corner, you almost crash right into an Ichiko mascot, but swiftly dodge, and then you stop in your tracks when you see Gojo standing right at the concrete entrance. He’s leaning back against the adjacent wall, arms crossed at his chest, and he’s stretching his neck side to side with a creased brow, an intense look in his eyes, lost in serious thought, scanning the wall across from him like he’s mapping out plays in his head.

When you approach him and catch the corner of his eyesight, he leans off the wall and flashes you one of his so extremely charmed to see you grins on reflex, and suddenly there’s nothing your senses seem to pick up on except him. Like everything else around you just disappears.

“Hey, you,” he says when he comes up to you, and you walk him like a dog back to a corner that’s tucked further away from noises and sights. You lean your back against the wall now, the coolness of concrete seeping through the fabric of your shirt, and he stands a step in front of you. Your hands toy with the strap of your camera.

“Are you ready to win today?” you ask him, and look off to the right into the flourishing seats that are still being filled to the brim, “clearly there’s no pressure.”

He breathes in deep, and releases it slowly, like there really was tension to relieve. “We’ve got no choice but to win.”

“Is that something Coach Yaga says to you guys often?” you ask him, because the man recited the same thing about five times in that email chain. “Also, apparently you take years off of his life.” Another thing he recited about five times in that email chain.

Gojo only addresses what he wants to address, as per usual. “Yeah, it’s something he says to us often.”

“So,” you say, “what did you want to talk about?”

He looks at you puzzled, tilting his head to the side. “Nothing. I just wanted to see you.”

It’s hard to assume that he didn’t have something to talk about with the intention of telling you to meet him here, because this is the same place you confessed to him a few weeks ago, and so is also the place he so painfully rejected you. But maybe he doesn’t think about these kinds of things as much as you do. “I see.”

His tongue pokes to his cheek as he studies your anticipating expression, and then he sighs, his shoulders slumping slightly. “What are we doing? I mean, I like you, and you like me too, at least I hope you still do. Why don’t we—…why don’t we just give it a go already? I don’t see how we can move forward if you won’t at least let me take you out on a date.”

Your hands stop fidgeting with your camera strap from his words, and you lick your lips, suddenly unable to keep eye contact with him so your gaze drifts down to his chest in front of you. His uniform is clean, no smudges of dirt or grass, just pure white fabric underneath heat-pressed blue and golden accents, and of course, that signature number 10. You’re sure he’s all you’ll ever think of when you see that number now for the rest of your life.

You know when you want something so bad you don’t know what to do once you have it? Because it almost seems too good to be true?

“I just wanted to let stuff between us breathe for a little bit,” you confess, “it’s just, it was a lot to deal with. Being around you when I thought you didn’t want me the way I wanted you. I don’t know if this is odd to say, and maybe I’m overthinking it, but I just feel like somewhere along the way, I kind of…forgot who you were for a little bit.” This kind of vulnerability would have you running away with your tail between your legs with anyone else, but not with him. Not after everything.

His expression softens, melting away that confrontational energy he had earlier, and he nods slowly. He opens his mouth to speak, but he can’t seem to find words. The presence of them is there, though, you can feel them. But what good are his thoughts if not voiced?

“I just wanted to spend a little bit of time getting to know you again, I guess.” You squeeze your arm in reassurance of yourself because he wasn’t giving it to you. You let out an awkward laugh. “I don’t really know what I’m saying right now, to be honest.”

You can tell he’s at a crossroads, and you think back to this week and his efforts to get you to open up to him again. You know how he feels right now, because it’s exactly how you felt when he rejected you. Like when someone is so close, yet so far, you can feel that they’re within arms reach but never truly. And they’re slipping away for some reason that you may never know, but all you can do is assume that it’s a fault of your own. You’re not really sure what he can do to make you feel secure about this whole thing anymore, and you can see the slight panic in his eyes when he realizes that too.

“I don’t mind waiting,” he tells you, rushed with a desperation entirely contrary to his words, “what’s a week or two when I want to spend a lot more of those with you anyways.” But he takes a deep breath, like he’s already mentally preparing himself for an agonizing wait in his head.

There’s a sound over the stadium speakers, something technical and sporty and goes entirely over your head in dismissal, but to Gojo it seems to have a different effect, as he’s suddenly attentive and stands up straighter, that focused expression on his face from earlier resurfacing. You realize he needs to get back to the field.

“Can we continue this conversation after the game?” he asks you hastily, already turning towards the center of the stadium. And he adds an obligatory, “sorry.”

“Yeah, sure,” you quickly agree, suddenly feeling like you’re taking up his time.

He gives you a small smile, unsure in its presentation but pure in its intention. But he can only take one step towards the field before you reach out and pinch the fabric of his jersey to keep him still. He feels the tug of it and fully faces you once again.

“Um. Just a sec,” you say, “I have something to give you before your game.”

“Oh?” he looks at you with interest, “I fucking love things.”

“You have to close your eyes though.”

“…what is the thing…” He squints at you with a what are you up to expression.

“Just close your eyes!” you snap at him.

“Okay, okay, jeez,” he holds his hands up in front of him in surrender, shaking his head to get his hair out of his face and then he closes his eyes. “You’re scary as hell sometimes. Excuse me for being cautious.”

You roll your eyes, useless because he doesn’t see it, and then take a step towards him. You cup his jaw with the palm of your hand, his cheek twitching slightly from the unexpected contact, and then you raise on your tiptoes to press your lips to his cheek. It’s short and sweet with the sound of a peck.

“For good luck,” you whisper, then you quickly lower yourself back onto your heels, take a step back and tuck some strands of hair behind your ear. The ground suddenly interests you.

He opens his eyes, blinking a few times with shock and his hand comes up to brush the tips of his fingers against the spot you kissed him, and then his gaze goes comically dazed when he reaches out to hold you. “Alright, c’mere you,” he says, closing his eyes and puckering his lips as he leans down to kiss you but you laugh and push his face away.

“No no no, only on the cheek for now,” you say with a small laugh.

He does nothing to restrain his frustrated groan. “You can’t do something that cute and then expect me to be chill about it.”

“If you win, then, maybe I’ll let you kiss me for real.”

“Maybe?”

“Yes. Maybe.”

He’s close, towering over you near this bustling east side entrance that he seems to like so much, and his eyes drop to your lips. “Alright. I like those odds.”

You give him a smile and slip away from him to get back towards the field, and you feel his eyes on you as you walk away.

The pregame events are a blur, with blaring music accompanied by the sounds of the sports announcers clipping across the speakers, finally quieted down in time for the players to line up on the field for the national anthem which was then followed by UTokyo’s alma mater.

You’re stationed on the same side of the field as Minato, UTokyo’s side, while Hana is covering the sidelines of the opposite end with the opponents goal post. Minato’s filling up a cup of Gatorade for himself at the athlete’s station and then he comes back around to find you.

“Are you ready to take your shots? I see Hana wanted you to shoot on film today,” he says to you as he sloshes around Glacier Freeze in a flimsy plastic cup.

You twist your aperture dial with your thumb. “Yesss, all set. I’ll try to keep up.”

He nods at you in approval.

The atmosphere feels nerve wracking. Something felt different about this game, the stakes feeling high. Well, of course they’re high, because if they lose today then they’re out of the tournament. But the stakes feel high for other reasons too, an energy you can pick up on but can’t quite discern.

Your eyes drift across the field where you can see a referee placing a ball at the center of the field. Off to the right, you can see Gojo standing with a few of his other teammates, including Geto, Nanami, and Choso, and they’re all gesticulating to various corners of the field as they discuss what you can only imagine have to do with their plays for today. And you realize— it’s their last college soccer season. Their second-to-last official home match before the championship, and for those of them that haven’t qualified for the national league, it may be their second-to-last match of this caliber for the rest of their lives. One of the final chances that they have to prove something of themselves. The determination was palpable.

The chief referee’s whistle cuts through the air with three short chirps, and that gathers the attention of all the players on the field. UTokyo wins the coin toss, choosing to kickoff, and YCU’s players choose to attack the left side goal.

Your stomach churns with anticipation, the crowd hushing too as all the players take their places on the field. If you feel nervous, you can only imagine how the athletes feel. There’s a rhythm that you’ve learned over the past couple of months getting to know the sport, where players stretch out their necks and kick out their feet and take subtle deep breaths as they survey the stands. Idle moments before the start of the match where they have no choice but to look forward and only forward, so they take a moment to stay in the present for as long as they can gather. You’ve never been much of a sports spectator, and perhaps you’ve only recently had some personal interest in the team, but you realize you feel pride in your school as you stand behind chalk sideline and see UTokyo’s colors scattered across the field in uniform. And fuck, you wanted them to win. You wanted them to win with fierceness and wrath, and it’s a desire you share with the crowd.

Gojo spends a minute talking to the referee before the black and white striped man pats him high on the back in the good sport and urges him towards the center of the field. He lifts his foot up onto the ball, rolling it back and forth underneath the spikes of his cleat, and you can see it in his eyes, even from all the way over here, that he seems to have different ideas in mind for this game too. High stakes. Pre-determined, set with will, evident in the clench of his jaw and the concentrated furrow of his brow as he surveys the field with his eyes, and you’re lost in the sight for what feels like forever because you can hardly register the chirp of the ref’s whistle.

And then the kickoff starts.

The ball is tapped to Geto to start the play, and the first few minutes were intense as the ball was passed back and forth between UTokyo’s players, placing pressure on YCU’s defense as they inched closer and closer towards the goal. A pass between UTokyo’s #4 was intercepted by YCU and the ball was rushed down towards the left side, the crowd’s horror evident in the uproar as they raise to their feet in fearful anticipation, and with ruthless offense, YCU’s forward takes a clear sink shot towards the goal, and the crowd holds their breath before they watch Choso lunge for it in air, gloved hands firmly grabbing the ball and then pulling it to his chest with a possessiveness you can only expect to see from a skilled goalie, before he crashes down into the ground and the crowd releases relief in the form of rowdy roars.

Ten minutes in, with everyone on their toes, each team tested each other’s defenses. UTokyo were known for stellar offense, especially within the past few years with players like Gojo Satoru and Takuma Ino joining the league as powerful forwards, but UTokyo’s overall offense was still statistically second to none other than YCU. And the pressure YCU was putting on UTokyo’s defense was wearisome to say the least. You glance to see Nanami, who is UTokyo’s best defensive player, huffing and puffing as he stands between two light-footed YCU players in an attempt to guard, and fails an attempt to steal the ball before it gets to the feet of YCU’s striker #6, passed in a split second off to his teammate, with a fake so seamless that it has Choso just a couple inches away from touching the ball before it’s sent flying into the net.

The noises from the crowd are still loud, but dampened in spirit.

With the referees hand signal up in the air, the current score is confirmed. 0-1, YCU.

Coach Yaga calls for a sub, in which he switches Nanami out for who you believe is a 2nd-year defensive player name Yuta you’ve seen around practice with a promising statistical record for interceptions, and you watch as Nanami takes the bench before he swipes the sweat off his face in exhaustion. God. Just fifteen minutes into the match, and YCU already has UTokyo’s defense winded from play.

You bring your camera up to your face, forgetting for a moment that there was still a job to do here, and you position the direction of the lens towards the center of the field, where Gojo takes his place at the ball once more. Yuta briefly passes by him, signaling some play to him by holding up a number three, likely something Coach Yaga asked him to pass on to Gojo, and you see him briefly nod, his mouth slightly agape as he breathes slowly and pulls his jersey up to wipe at the sweat at his forehead.

The referee chirps the whistle, Gojo taps the ball to Yuta, and the play starts.

YCU immediately puts pressure on UTokyo’s offensive play once more, with eager movements to steal the ball, but it’s passed between UTokyo’s players with ease, more practiced and more sure. The kind of play that you and the rest of the school was used to seeing from them. However, Geto loses the ball on a left-back pass, but right when YCU makes attempts to cover field in a long-shot kick towards the left, Yuta intercepts the ball and swiftly passes it to Gojo.

The crowd immediately rises to their feet in anticipation, watching as Gojo shuffles the ball down the field, dangerously close to off-field boundaries, a signature tactic he uses because he knows there’s not a single player in the league that can match him in precision and control to keep the ball in-field on a steal, and he swiftly passes it towards Geto with a side-swept kick, beelining down towards the goal post, in perfect time for Geto pass-back to meet his feet and when Gojo was this close to a net, there was no stopping him.

He draws his right foot back, and explosively kicks the ball forward, chipping the grass under it in the motion, and it’s sent flying towards the goal, and then threaded past the goalie right to the back of the net. The cheers that erupt across the stadium rumble the ground beneath you.

1-1, even match.

UTokyo spends no time celebrating, other than a few pats to Gojo’s back as he nods in acknowledgement, no emotion on his face other than pure concentration and greed. The greed to win, like a righteous sin. He stretches his neck out, panting slightly as he takes his place towards the right side of the field and the referee chirps his whistle to signal YCU to start the kickoff.

They quickly make attempts in moving the ball towards their scoring-end of the field, but face push-back from UTokyo’s defense, unable to make it much further past the midfield line, and you bring your camera up to take a snap of Gojo, who you see is still standing off to the right side of the field. But when you position it and peer through the viewfinder, that space he once stood at was empty. You pull your camera down, and blink at the sight, and then the crowd is picking up in volume once more.

Gojo sprints down the flank, cutting past every defender, and moves towards YCU’s attacking goal, which was a shocking place to be for a center forward, but you could feel his desire and determination to steal this back-and-forth ball, and succeeds when YCU makes an open pass, thinking they were in the clear, only to have Gojo sneak in at the last moment and get the ball at his feet.

The play moves by in a flash, a blur that you or anyone else in the stadium could hardly keep up with it, movements so fast you were shocked a human being was capable of even running that far in such a short amount of time, and in an almost embarrassingly easy play, Gojo makes a fool out of YCU’s defenders as he slips the ball through the legs of his last obstacle before he struck it with sharp precision, sending it soaring to the corner of the goal, past the outstretched arms of the goalie, and into the net.

2-1, UTokyo.

It was electrifying, the feeling that strikes through the stadium, one that reaches you in your own blood. You’re shocked, standing here, after witnessing Gojo score two goals within the matter of minutes, against one of the top three teams in the league. It’s a shock that reaches everyone, including Coach Yaga who’s standing about ten feet down the line from you, his arms crossed, and you see his eyes for the first time as he takes his sunglasses off to get a better look at what he’s seeing.

You trail his sight, dragging your gaze across the field until it lands at Gojo, who is barely acknowledging the encouraging pats and shakes and goodhearted shoves that his teammates were giving him, because he was focused. It might sound crazy to say, but you swear his eyes looked like a fiercer shade of blue, like they were lit up, and you’re insanely glad you’re not one of YCU’s defensive players at the moment because you feel fearful of him even just standing on the sidelines.

Your gaze trails back to Coach Yaga, who slowly puts his sunglasses back on but his brows are narrowed tightly as he crosses his arms over his chest tightly.

The “athletic zone”... You’ve heard of it before. A state of pure focus, of peak performance, where an athlete experiences optimal concentration and a sense of effortless control over their actions. In which they perform at their highest level, where time slows down, any and all distractions fade away, and they’re completely immersed in their sport at hand. At the task at hand.

Coach Yaga seems to pick up on the fact that Gojo was on the edge of tapping into that state.

YCU makes a substitution, and you watch in anticipation as they begin the kickoff.

There’s fire in their veins with desperation to even out the score once more, rushing the ball down the off-field line, one of their center forwards mimicking Gojo’s signature attack pattern, and Yuta struggles to keep up with the expert dribbling of a fourth-year player with more experience on him, so much so to where he completely leaves the ball unguarded and there’s an open shot, but Geto places pressure at the last moment, in a fierce battle for the ball, before YCU’s center forward loses the ball over the goal line.

Choso picks the ball up, tapping on it harshly a few times as he surveys his eyes down the field, and all offensive players begin to shuffle towards their attacking goal in anticipation for the goal kick. He signals his hand down and then holds up two fingers in the air before placing the ball down on the six-yard box. He tightens the strap of one of his gloves, eyes squinting, and you follow his gaze down to a part of the field where you note UTokyo’s best aerial players are located and being guarded by YCU’s defense. And with complete trust in his team, that’s exactly where he kicks the ball.

Geto makes first contact with the ball, his chest colliding with two other YCU players as his head comes out on top and he headbutts the ball closer towards the inner field, and Gojo immediately gains access to it with a bounce of his knee. The crowd holds their breath, fear that they’ll lose the ball to a steal in the split second it spends floating in the air, but Gojo urges it forward with a bounce off of his chest and then rushes it straight down towards the goal post.

You wonder what sight he sees right now. Where you’re dead center, at no angle, lunging towards the sight of an open goal with a sole goalie standing in the center, anticipating to block your shot, and three defenders on your tail. There’s no room for error, no time to think, only instincts that you cultivate in the last leading milliseconds. They say that, in sports, athletes channel one hundred hours of practice in just a brief second on the field. A split second success that was years in the making. You can’t even imagine possessing that level of perfection in your body, or possessing that level of confidence that you can follow through with it in a moment as dire as this.

It was unreal, the way Gojo fades away from all the defenders, and faces no fear when confronted with the sight of the goalie in front of him while drawing his foot back to kick the ball. You lift your camera up at the last second, no time to think about aperture or ISO, just like he had no time to second-doubt a single twitch in his muscles, and his foot makes contact with the ball so harshly that you can hear the explosive sound even among the delirious cheers from the crowd, before he hook, line, and sinks it straight past the goalie’s head, rushing by like a scarcely deflected bullet, and into the net behind him.

3-1, UTokyo.

The whole stadium is momentarily speechless, all players and referees and recruiters and reporters and coaches and employees alike, before the most deafening cheers you’ve ever heard in your life scatter across the stands.

There’s a moment of brief reprieve, where the players can catch their breath while YCU makes yet another substitution, as if they’re just trial-and-erroring it at this point, and the cheers in the stadiums remain idle as you can’t tear your gaze away from Gojo.

It’s one of those moments where you realize that someone who you thought was so familiar to you was actually someone you hardly knew at all. You knew he was a talented soccer player, everyone on campus knows it, potentially one of the best to ever grace the league, and the amount of times you passively watched his plays on a lecture hall projector screen as your professor enthusiastically broke them down during class, even before you met him, was good enough for you to realize that he was insane, a one-in-a-million, a talent you cannot replicate, one you have by divinity. One you were born with.

And yet, somehow, getting to know him these past couple of months, he just felt so human. For someone so seemingly beyond you, he felt so…close? In those moments where it was just the two of you, it was hard to imagine that he was capable of such greatness, and that so many people were rooting for him with wholehearted tears in their eyes and cheers from their hearts, because most of the time, when he was with you, he was just a dorky idiot. You find that your heart is beating fast in your chest, that feeling of being unsure of what to do with what you’ve been wanting resurfacing powerfully.

“This is insane,” you hear Minato say from beside you and you jump a little from your thoughts being interrupted.

You twiddle with your camera straps. “I know…almost done with the first half and we’re up 3-1…I thought YCU are number one in offense for the league?”

“Oh, yeah, I mean, yes, that is insane too. But what’s even more insane is that three of the goals so far have been scored by one player.” He tips his chin towards the right sight of the field and you trail his line of sight. “By Gojo Satoru.”

Your brow furrows as you watch Gojo, his hands on his hips and his mouth slightly open as he indulges in a few shallow breaths to gain energy while YCU prepares for kickoff. Three goals, by just one player. Your eyes widen when you realize that is insane, especially for a D1 semi-final qualifying match.

“You know what the divisional record is for most goals scored by a single player during a championship match, y/n?” Minato asks you as he lifts his camera up to take a picture of the area Gojo was standing in.

You shake your head and wait for his response.

He drops his camera down and glances at the photo on his screen. “Four. During Keio Uni vs. Osaka Uni, near the beginning of the tournament back in 1997 by Osaka’s center forward number 24, Yuji Nakazawa. Meaning no one’s managed to beat that record since the new millenia, for a couple decades. Although a few players came close.”

You blink at him, and Minato is jerking his chin over in the direction of Gojo again.

“I think he’s trying to beat the record.”

You can only widen your eyes at Minato in realization, and then the chirp of the referee’s whistle draws everyone’s attention back to the field.

The sports announcers go wild on the speakers, the crowd raving all the same, standing to their feet like the team just won the championship match.

“LADIES AND GENTLEMEN!! We are watching HISTORY in the making!! Gojo Satoru, UTokyo’s very own 3-year consecutive MVP, has scored his 34th goal of the season, highest of any player in this year’s season so far, and is now on the road to beat the league’s long-standing record for most goals scored by a single player in a championship match since 1997!!” And the crowd roars even louder as you stare out at the field in awe.

YCU starts the kickoff following the prompt short chirp of the referee’s whistle, and with two minutes remaining on the clock for the first half, make desperate attempts to book it down the field towards their attacking goal, one of their midfielders making a clumsy attempt to strike the ball to the net in the final minutes of the half, and Choso easily catches it in his arms, right before the buzzer of the timer sounds, and the match moves into halftime.

All of UTokyo’s players immediately flock towards Gojo in sportful glee, finally having a chance to surround him and harass him with harsh pats on his back and ruffles of his hair for his play in the first half. Choso even puts him in a headlock because they all don’t know what else to do with their excitement and adrenaline rushing through their bodies. Their win for today was basically confirmed with the way he was playing.

You catch a glimpse of him through the crowd of people, and he has a boyish grin on his face, reveling in the embarrassing amount of attention from his teammates, that focused look from before dissolving into his normal self again. But you can see through him, as well enough as you’ve learned to at least, and you can tell he’s not satisfied. He’s thinking it’s not enough. There’s still more to be done, and it’s not time to celebrate yet.

His eyes scan down the sideline until they find you.

Your heart jumps a second in your chest. He stands up straighter, despite his teammates still clinging to him, and there’s a twinkle in his eyes when your eyes meet.

Cheerleaders take their place out onto the field, performing their numbers with loud music blaring, and the recruiters seated at their white tables get up to roam across the sidelines in discussion with referees and with Coach Yaga and with whatever players they can sink their greedy teeth into, as well as sneak at refreshments while they’re at it. You can see off to the right that Hana has reunited with Minato and she’s showing him some of the shots she took over at the opponent's side.

UTokyo’s players start to make their way to the benches to grab for towels and drinks of water and to sprawl across in rest, and you hear loud familiar laughter approaching as you watch the players sprawl across the benches, so you avert your eyes towards the source of the sound.

You see Gojo approaching the benches, two of his teammates slung with their arms around him in some type of adrenaline-drunken glee as they talk dramatically and theatrically which Gojo entertains with his own drunk-off-of-adrenaline glee. And you raise an eyebrow at his demeanor when he makes eye contact with you.

“There’s my freaky little photographer,” he says, and he’s standing up straight and—wait, is he puffing his chest out as he makes his way towards you? Oh for fucks sake.

Gojo has always been confident around you, for as long as you can remember, but in the fair few moments he’s been cocky, he’s been a menace. And you can only assume the testosterone-induced high of being on the verge of breaking a league record in front of the entire school then subsequently getting homiesexually praised by his teammates for the better part of the past five minutes, not to mention with the crowd and the reporters feeding his ego with a spoon across the speakers, he’s been transformed into the final boss of cocky.

His teammates surround you too, their hands on their hips as they assess you and Gojo when he meanders right up to you, arms held out to hug you, a sleazy sight you’ve seen probably six times this week, and you feel a rush of warmth in your cheeks as you place a hand on his chest to keep him away.

“You’re sweaty and gross, please stay away from me,” you reprimand him, “this is an expensive lens that is not humidity-proof.”

“Hey, you’re the girl that Kentaro socked in the face with a ball the other day at practice, right?” one of his teammates asks, leaning in towards you to take a closer look at your face.

“Oh yeahhh, ‘cause Satoru wasn’t paying attention,” another one of his teammates chimes in teasingly, hardly heard over the loud remix playing in the background as the cheerleaders continue to perform on the field.

You shrink a little from where you stand. Gojo’s got an irritated look on his face and he’s shrugging his teammate’s elbow off of his shoulder.

“I really hope you’re getting my good angles,” his teammate to the left comments before winking at you, and you purse your lips together.

The one on the right leans in too, looking at your cheek with an assessing look in his eye. “At least it didn’t leave a scar on your cute face—”

Gojo shoves the both of them back and away from you by elbowing them in the chest, and they make deep eugh noises before stepping away and rubbing at their sternums with pouts on their faces.

“Get the fuck away from her,” he grumbles, “she’s mine.”

Your cheeks flush slightly with warmth at the attention, and you watch as his teammates scurry away to adhere to some social hierarchy Gojo seems to possess over them.

You raise an eyebrow at him. “Yours?”

“Yes. Eventually. Whatever, did you see me out there?” he turns his torso towards the field and points behind himself with his thumb, “when I—”

“Oh god, you know what’s soooooooooo super sexy to me?” you interrupt him. “When guys are humble.”

“Oh c’monnn,” he curls his arm around your waist and pulls you to him, to where you stumble a little on grass and he holds you when you fall into him with more clumsiness than grace. “Tell me you aren’t at least impressed by me.”

You pout, because you are, and you’d really like to give him some reassurance and validation, but for some reason his cocky attitude is setting you off. “Satoru,” you sigh, wiggling a little in his hug, but he holds you tighter, “I’m working right now. Cut it out.”

He lets go of you at that, sober enough from the adrenaline to realize you’re being serious, but he steps into your space so only you can hear him. “What? Are you embarrassed?”

“Of what?” Your face twists with confusion.

“Of me. Are you embarrassed of me?” he asks.

“No. Why would I be embarrassed of you?” you ask with sharpness.

“I don’t know, just, sometimes I feel like you’re always annoyed by me,” he says with a sigh. “It’s like, you’re really sweet sometimes, and then kinda rude out of nowhere, and it’s sort of messing with my head.”

You pout. “You were messing with my head for weeks.”

“And I’m sorry about that,” he quickly interjects, like he already knew you were brewing up that counterargument, “but you don’t have to act like you’re all disinterested and indifferent just to get back at me for it.” He places his hands on his hips and wipes his temple on the round part of his shoulder when he feels a drop of sweat trickle down from his hairline. “You don’t have to act embarrassed around me either.”

“I’m not embarrassed,” you deny, and your cheeks feel hot, and for some reason you feel angry. “In fact, I’m the one that should be asking you that question. Because I still very clearly remember that time you said I was just someone you know in front of your friends.”

He groans and tilts his head back with frustration. “Can you just let that go? Things have changed between us since then. Move on.”

“You kissed me and then pretended I was just a stranger to you in front of your friends,” you grit as you cross your arms. “That’s the level of sincerity that I know from you, Satoru.”

“Oh, okay, so there’s nothing else I’ve done that shows you that I’m serious about you?” he asks rhetorically with incredulity, throwing his hands up in the air in disbelief.

No. That’s not true, not true at all. But he’s pissed you off now and so all logic was to the wind. “Doesn’t matter. If you’re not embarassed of me, and if you’re really serious about me this time, then fucking prove it.” You’re speaking out of spite, and you fear you’ve just set him off too.

“Fine,” he says, and he grabs the microphone straight out from a passing reporter’s hand, replacing it with a gatorade bottle. The reporter stares at the bottle he’s now holding with confusion. “I will.”

“W-Wait—” you squeak out, feeling the hair at the back of your neck bristle in anticipation and a shiver gets sent down your spine. The cheerleaders are making their way off the field at the end of their routine, and you can hear the thumps across the loud boisterous speakers when Gojo whacks his palm to the microphone to make sure the thing was on before he jogs to the center of the field.

The crowd is already cheering, ecstatic to see the afternoon's star player and pride & joy of their school, and Gojo takes a moment to soak in all the glory in comical appreciation with bowing towards all 360 degree angles of the stadium.

“Uhhh,” you hear Choso from beside you, who’s strapping his thick goalie gloves tightly to his wrists, “Why the fuck does Satoru have a microphone while standing in the middle of the field.”

“It can’t be for any publicly decent reason,” Geto muses.

All you can do is watch.

“Hi, uh,” Gojo starts, static blaring slightly across the speakers and the crowd winces with him, “sorry. I’m Satoru, Gojo Satoru, you might know me from—uh, the game you’ve been watching?”

Cheers all around, because as if a single person wouldn’t know who he is. The stands were rowdy and most definitely drunk off of sidestep beers the stadium has been serving all afternoon long.

Gojo is about to continue speaking, when he catches sight of the table of recruiters in the corner of his eye and he turns to face them out of respect. “Oh, yeah, uh, number 10,” he tugs his jersey up at the shoulder to stretch out the fabric, the 1 and the 0 flattened in view, “division player ID 233-997. Coach Yaga keeps my business cards in his purse if you want one.”

“SAAAAATTOOORRUUUU!!!!!” you hear Coach Yaga yell from somewhere in the distance.

“Anywho,” Gojo continues, and the music dims slightly, so he glances at the stop clock on the screen, which shows him he’s got roughly five minutes left to pull off whatever idiocracy he had in mind before the second half of the game starts. “Just here to say that there’s this girl I really like.”

The crowd gets louder, almost deafening, and sonically mostly feminine in (delusional) hope he’s gonna name call one of them.

Gojo’s voice is crisp and clear through the speakers as he clarifies. “She’s standing over there,” he says as he nonchalantly points to your exact latitude and longitudinal direction, “with the big camera slung around her neck that looks like it could pull her down to the center of the earth. Yeah. She’s super cute and I really like talking to her.”

“Uh-oh,” Geto murmurs from beside you, and you glance at him to try to get a read on the situation but you can’t.

Gojo starts to pace across the center of the field now, like he’s working the crowd. “But get this—she thinks I’m not fuckin’ serious about her!!!”

The crowd groans with him in unison. Yep, most certainly drunk. Or high off of glee. Either way, he’s playing them like a violin.

“Huh?” Gojo’s voice sounds distant now, away from the mic, and you can see on the large pixelated screen that he’s being interrupted by someone that looks like one of the videographers, “oh, what’s that? This is being broadcasted? Uh-huh. Oh. I’m not allowed to cuss? Oh fuck, okay. Er— shit, okay. Wait—shoot, okay.”

Choso’s smirk is heard from beside you, and you catch Geto and Nanami shaking their heads in your periphery.

“LIKE I SAID,” Gojo continues into the mic, “the girl I like thinks I’m just messing around, so. Uh. To show her that I’m serious about her, I’m gonna…” He looks up at the sky to ponder, and you can hear people shouting all sorts of suggestions of nonsense from the crowd. And instead of saying proclaim my undying affection for her through a romantic soliloquy straight from my heart in the presence of the entire school, he says—“I’m gonna strip. Yes. Down to my tighty whities, Imma strip.”

H–

Huh?!?!?

You don’t even have time to be horrified or scared, you’re just bewildered beyond belief that that’s what he came up with.

What the fuck kind of reassurance did you ask for. And what the fuck kind of reassurance were you about to get?

The crowd goes wild, it’s no surprise to say everyone and their mothers wants to see him naked, even the straight dudes would dig it for the gym inspo. And he points straight to you, sleazy look on his face and you’re going to ignore the fact that he just winked at you too as he crosses his arms to hold the hem of his jersey and pulls it up over his head in the most raunchy and slutty way a man can take his shirt off.

The music manager is quick with the bit, and is most definitely a fellow Gen Z college student, because Justin Timberlake’s SexyBack (ft. Timbaland) starts playing across the speakers and the crowd goes ballistic.

“Ayo why’s Satoru Magic Mike’ing the field right now?” one of his other teammates calls out through a mouthful of protein bar, “What the fuck did I miss?”

The cameraman does God’s work in a hella zoom-in of Gojo’s sweat glistened abs, then pans up the naked expanse of the perfect taut skin across his chest, and you can’t help but stare even among all your horror. It’s like when a male bird embarrasses the fuck outta himself to attract a female bird sitting on a perch, except instead of within the context of a NatGeo documentary, this was your real life. Everyone wants him, but he’s making a fool out of himself for you.

He pretends to stretch his arms up into the air, a cover-up to flex his biceps, and then he kicks his cleats off, and the socks come off too. Entirely unnecessary, as showing one's ankles is simply too slutty, but alas he’s a whore. And when his thumbs dip into the waistband of his shorts, and there’s anticipating screeching from the crowd, he finally gets chased by security.

Except he’s an intercollegiate D1 athlete, why the fuck wouldn’t he be able to outrun a bunch of dudes in black?

The camerawork on him is phenomenal as he runs across the sidelines of the field, eliciting a wave down the bleachers. So good in fact that you’re pretty sure the camera man could shoot for the Olympic track and field, with the way the stadium’s got a clear sight of Gojo mouthing the lyrics Them other fuckers don’t know how to act from the song still blaring with satirical rage on his face as he makes a fool of the men chasing him around the perimeter of the field.

And then he does it, drops his shorts, discards them with a kick, and he’s down to his tighty whities as promised. Cameraman has got to be displaying some previously undiscovered level of talent as he zeroes in on a shot of said tighty whities, with Gojo’s—forgive me, I need to be crass—huge bulge prominent in Big Dick Energy fashion except his tighty whities have little red hearts in rows across the fabric so do with that duality what you will.

He’s outrun security with a steady grin on his face as he eats up the drunken crowd’s cheers and riots and roars and you feel like you’re the only sane person in this stadium, or maybe you’re just not used to the fanatics of a college sports crowd. You peep the men in black trailed all the way on the left side of the field where they abandoned their pursuit of Gojo.

He taps imaginary pockets at his thighs, very muscular thighs you take indulgence in noticing, as if he expected to find something there, and he looks around when he doesn’t. He shrugs and grabs the microphone of the next passing sports commentator he spots, and then he makes his way back to you.

His breathing is a little shallow, and he inhales deep to catch his breath. “Baby.” The crowd SCREAMS at the way he purrs the word into the mic. “Will you do me the honor,” he’s huffing and puffing, heard across blaring speakers, “of being my lawfully wedded girlfriend?” And then he holds the mic to your lips.

“W-Wha—” you stutter, and there’s chanting across the crowd with words that barely make sense until you finally realize they’ve started to yell say yes! say yes! say yes! “Oh my gosh, okay, yes, fine, now please, for the love of god, put some freaking clothes on!”

The crowd goes wild with cheerful glees, and Gojo shoots fists up in the air in celebration as he runs all the way towards the center of the field with high knees, and you’re gawking at the sight, before he falls backward onto the grass and makes delirious snow angels on the ground. You see Coach Yaga’s vein popping in his neck from pure agitation as he storms off towards the center of the field to knock some sense into Gojo, but you know that Coach Yaga can’t kick him out, because they still have a game to win. The perks of being the most valued player in the league is getting to act like an absolutely insane idiot because you know they still need you in the end to bring it home.

You glance to the right, seeing his teammates nodding slowly then getting back to wrapping athletic tape around ankles and stretching out shoulders, with immediate acceptance of his actions like it wasn’t even out of character for him to do. And you realize again that you don’t know Gojo as well as you think you do.

And then the halftime timer is up.

You see Gojo approach the benches in a quick jog, squeezing some water into his mouth with his green gatorade squirt bottle, and when your eyes flit up to the screens on all four entrances, you see that the cameramen are still all focused on him accompanied by the continued buzz of conversation among the crowd following his public spectacle. But he seems to already be past any semblance of embarrassment as he takes the attention with ease, before he glances up to make eye contact with you and then lightly jogs right up to you.

“Did that prove to you that I’m not embarrassed of you?” he asks you, cocking a brow with a smug look on his face as he gets all up in your personal space.

“I don’t know, but I’m certainly thoroughly and expeditiously embarrassed of you now,” you say, cheeks feeling flush when he leans forward so he can make eye contact with you at eye level. “I’ll have to move to a different country.”

His grin is relaxed. “Yeah well you asked for it.”

“Maybe. But I underestimated what a lunatic you are.”

“You’re my girlfriend now, you’ve gotta get used to it.”

Your heart skips a beat in your chest. “Satoru–”

“Tomorrow,” he cuts you off, “Hinode pier. I’ll pick you up at six. It’s a date, so wear something cute. And preferably easy to take off.” And then he’s attentive to the chirp of the referee’s whistle in the air before jogging backwards towards the feel and eventually turns on his heel towards the field while you’re left with warm cheeks and a heart that felt like it was moving at a mile a minute.

The timer for the second half refreshes on the screen while you loosely hold your camera in your shaking hands. It occurs to you that you haven’t taken a single photo of him before the start of the kickoff, and so you bring the piece of consolidated metal up to your eyes, peering through the viewfinder and focusing it on the center of the field. And there he was. Your muse.

Gojo lets out a breath, which you can see even from here that it’s shaky and staggered with resistance, and he lifts his jersey up to swipe at the sweat trickling down his face as he eyes the ball underneath YCU’s player’s foot just prior to the start of the second half. There it was—that look again of pure focus.

3-1, forty-five minutes on the clock. And the referee chirps the whistle to start the second half.

It’s immediately evident that YCU has returned to the field following halftime with renewed energy, pressing high down the flank relentlessly past UTokyo’s defense, so fast it was hard for anybody to even keep a steady eye on the ball with the fluidity of their passes. The persistence pays off in the fake double-pass that slips past Geto’s feet, a moment of hesitation in the broken flow of UTokyo’s defense, and one of YCU’s strikers has the perfect line of shot towards the goal before digging his foot under the ball and sending it flying towards the corner of the goal post, scoring themselves a goal within just the first five minutes of play.

3-2.

The pressure mounts at the next kickoff, and with about seven minutes of solid play, with back-and-forth passes, multiple attempts at both goal posts to no avail on either side, it was clear that exhaustion was bustling in the veins of all the players.

One of YCU’s offensive players seems to capitalize on this, jumping on a defensive lapse of a pass Nanami attempted to make towards Yuta, and the ball is swiftly stolen then raced back towards the goal post. Choso prepared himself at the line, light on his feet paired with a solid stance, but in a millisecond of a moment, YCU’s offense unexpectedly passes the ball to a player racing up the midfield, and the player chips the ball neatly into the exposed corner of the goal despite Choso’s attempt to lunge for it in mid air.

Equalized, 3-3 game, momentary shock across the players’ faces, and the crowd bustles with something that sounds less like glee and more life fear. YCU was prepared to live up to and hold onto their title as the league’s number one offense, and as Minato explained to you during your time working in this job, an offensive team isn’t good at scoring goals, but rather exceptional at breaking down the other team’s defense.

Your eyes zero in on Geto, who stands in the center of the field for kickoff, and he’s huffing and puffing. He's the lead of defense for the team, and you can only imagine the level of pressure he feels right now. He glances around to his players, over to Nanami who seemed to share the same level of exhaustion, and then he glances towards Gojo who stood in front of him off to the right. Except you notice that Gojo looks relaxed, albeit still exhausted, but there’s a composed expression on his face even in the moment of heightened stakes. With locked eyes, Geto nods at Gojo and raises two fingers up into the air to signal a play, of which Gojo seems to respond to by closing more distance between him and the goal post prior to the kickoff, positioning himself almost directly in front of it, to which YCU’s defense immediately begin to guard him in a tight radius.

The kickoff begins, with Geto making a few passbacks with Nanami as they close distance towards the field before passing it off to UTokyo’s string of offense and then receding back to their defending goal. UTokyo continues to close distance, raising stakes for YCU as their defense begins to falter under pressure, and the ball gets passed to Gojo, who only keeps it in possession for less than three seconds before he passes it back to Yuuji, a risky decision to make in the second half of a semifinal match, but the first-year swiftly unleashes a powerful shot that rockets past YCU’s goalkeeper, up towards the corner, except–

It bounces off the metal of the goal post, shot off with projectile speed back towards the center of the field, but with razor-sharp reflexes, Gojo headbutts the ball in air, twists his torso and strikes the ball with his foot past a dumbfounded goalie who can’t even move an inch to guard the ball that he already knew was going to sink right into the goal, and that’s exactly what it does.

The stadium erupts with the momentum.

4-3, UTokyo.

It was a sweet moment, one you manage to capture on camera of Gojo running up to Yuuji and ruffling his hair in reassurance, despite the missed goal. Your heart feels warm in your chest, feeling your own sense of melancholy that this was one of the last times they’ll ever get to play together on a team.

Your eyes widen when you glance at the scoreboard, realizing that he’s tied. Gojo is tied for the most goals scored during a championship match. There were less than three minutes left on the clock. UTokyo either preserves their lead, or they risk moving into overtime, which, judging by the exhaustion on the UTokyo players’ faces in the wake of YCU’s relentless offense this entire game, moving into overtime would be a hefty, hefty risk.

YCU’s center forward takes his place in the center of the field, fire evident in his eyes as he glances across the field. YCU are light on their feet, channeling everything in their bodies into these last moments of the game as they prepare to start the kickoff. You glance across UTokyo’s players, and although they look spent, there was a resolute look to all of them. It wasn’t the time to give up or feel at ease even near the end of this grueling battle. Now was the time to play.

The referee chirped his whistle, and the kickoff began.

YCU immediately presses hard, as all their other plays have been all game, in their desperation to score. You can already see UTokyo’s midfielders move sluggishly in comparison to YCU’s offense, a drag to their feet as YCU pushes past the first layer of defense towards their attacking goal. Geto takes an aggressive approach, making moves to steal the ball while Nanami and Yuta guarded both flanks, and there was a relentless pass-off happening that ate up more than a minute of the remaining time.

Nanami succeeds in stealing the ball, but immediately loses it under his feet by a YCU midfielder, who makes a broad pass down the sidelines to YCU’s star forward who then powerfully kicks the ball towards the unguarded area of their goal, a dangerous shot that was clear towards the crossbar and Choso makes a leap for it, high into the air, his glove brushing against the ball, the entire crowd holding their breath in anticipation–

And the ball lands in the net.

4-4, tied game. With one minute and seventeen seconds left on the clock.

There was no time wasted in getting back to center field. No time spent dwelling in the horrific roars of the crowd as they watch with anxiety and fear. No time spent to process or consider or signal any plays. Not even a single second used to catch breath. When there is this much at stake, an athlete thrives on momentum.

To your surprise, Gojo isn’t the one that takes place at the center of the field to start the kickoff. Yuta stands there instead, and you notice his eyes are erratic as he surveys all corners of the field.

The referee chirps his whistle.

Yuta immediately passes it off to the side to UTokyo’s midfielder, who curls it towards their attacking goal with a swift pass to Ino, who closes distance towards the goal, but one of YCU’s defender slips in, undoing any progress they had made in their offense by stealing the ball and sending it back towards mid-field. Forty-three seconds. The crowd’s roars heightened as YCU continued to push forward, thirty yards now from scoring, and UTokyo’s defense was desperate to stop them but their momentum was cracking in the wake of their exhaustion.

It was a moment you don’t think you could ever fully or truly recall, one that you wish you had focused all your energy and attention to so that you could commit it to memory for the rest of your life. The image of Gojo pushing all the way to ten yards before their defending goal, a place where no center forward should really be at in a game like this, but it was exactly what their defense needed. It was exactly what the team needed. It was exactly what the school needed. For the ball to be in his possession.

With twenty-two seconds left on the clock, he steals the ball from right under YCU’s offensive feet, and then charges towards the opposite side of the field. The crowd rises to their feet, thunderous roaring that overtook any and all senses, as Gojo weaves through forwards, center forwards, midfielders, and defenders, covering the entire span of the field in lightning time. Fifty yards, forty yards, thirty yards, twenty hards, ten yards–

In a moment you couldn’t believe, he digs his foot underneath the ball, and sends it flying out towards the goal. There was not even a margin of an inch in which it slipped past the goalie’s hands, past his head, and swiftly flew right into the net.

With three-two-one seconds, the match was over.

5-4, UTokyo’s win.

The final whistle blew, and for a moment, there was silence. As if the world paused to catch its breath. Then, all at once, the crowd erupted with glee that shook the entire stadium at its core. Flags waving, scarves held high, toasts of beer held up to the sky, it was deafening, and it almost makes you want to cry. Thousands of voices shouting in unison, celebrating the hard-fought victory of their school’s team. A type of pride that was fostered, and well-deserved, and long-lived.

You quickly glance towards the field again, and see Gojo standing right at the same spot where he had kicked the last and final goal, staring towards the net. You can’t see the expression on his face, but it surprises you how still he is. Like a statue, staring at the goal with the ball tucked into its corner. The very epitome of what it means to succeed in this sport was right in front of him, and it seemed like he wanted to soak the visual in for as long as he could.

His trance is abruptly interrupted when his teammates swarm in, rushing over like a wave of pure adrenaline. They slap him on the back, ruffle his hair, shout his name, the sounds of gleeful disbelief mixed with exhausted sighs of relief swarming into the air. And Gojo finally melts away from the tension of the match and into the celebration as he weakly returns the embraces of his teammates while he catches his breath.

“IT’S OFFICIAL!! IT’S OFFICIAL!! UTOKYO’S VERY OWN GOJO SATORU HAS OBLITERATED OSAKA UNIVERSITY’S RECORD FOR MOST GOALS SCORED BY A SINGLE PLAYER IN A CHAMPIONSHIP MATCH!!”

The speakers are blaring the voices of the sports announcers, along with ambient music to match the intensity of the match that everyone had just witnessed.

You should probably be doing your job. You know, take a picture of the huddle of players on the field as they bask in the glory of a close victory, but instead your feet start moving on their own. Like a magnet drawn to him, you make your way towards Gojo, only a slight hesitation in your step as you stop about ten feet away, suddenly unsure. But when he makes eye contact with you, all that fear melts away.

He hastily pats the backs of some of his teammates, acknowledging their praise at the center of the huddle before tightly squeezing past them to make his way over to you. Your heart is beating fast in your chest, feeling an almost overwhelming sense of pride in your school’s team, but more importantly, in him. What was the acceptable thing to do? Run to him, into his arms, and hug him while he twirls you around? Tackle him to the grassy ground? Kiss him like your life depended on it? You have no clue what the acceptable or sane or normal thing to do is. But he’s made his decision for you when he walks right up to you, his hands holding your waist as he pulls you towards him. He smells earthy, of grass and salt and sweat and of all the hard work he poured into today, the wear and tear of the game evident in the wear and tear of his jersey. He only manages to huff out an exhale at the sight of you, like some relief washing over him just by looking into your eyes. Forget the fact that the crowd was all watching and that all of the screens you could see past his head were focused on the two of you, because all you could hear or see or think was him.

“I believe you owe me a kiss,” he says, huffing as he catches his breath but that doesn’t stop the smile that makes its way onto his face.

You nod your head, giving him your own version of a sweet smile as your arms slide up past his shoulders, crossing behind his neck, and he leans down to kiss you.

You hear a swell from the crowd, some teasing comments off in the distance from some of his teammates, you’re pretty sure you hear Coach Yaga yelling at him to get back to the benches, but it all melts away with the feeling of him smiling against your lips as he kisses you at the center of this stadium.

It was a moment so pure, so sweet, so picture perfect, and for once, you’re not the one behind the camera taking the photo. You’re the one that’s in it.

[end of kickoff ch12]

a/n. aaa thanks a lot for reading!! pls the fucking public stripping scene was so stupid i apologize on behalf of kickoff gojo for his behavior 😂😂 i’ll put him in his cage dw this chapter had some of what i consider to be the most challenging aspects of writing for me (internal conflict, grand public gesture, sports jargon) and so writing it felt like an uphill battle the ENTIRE time i wrote it and edited it. i considered scrapping it sooo many times cuz i just wasn't happy w it...but whatever i can't expect to be 100% happy w every chapter i put out there haha. i think kickoff has become a lil sacred for me since i've been working on it for a while now but likeee...sometimes u just gotta say fuck it we ball (tbh kickoff gojo probably says that to himself before a match) anywho, i am veryy thoroughly excited for what i've got planned for the chapters to follow, especially moving into the last angsty arc before the end of the series!! so i look forward to picking up momentum w this series again :0 honestly chapters 10 through 12 were the most difficult things i've written so far for a lot of reasons, but i have a feeling things will go more smoothly for me creatively going forward since what i've got planned falls well within my writing comfort range oh also there seems to be a little confusion about the number of chapters left, as i know i had originally said 12, but i anticipate that there will be about 18 chapters of kickoff total!! so still around six chapters left before the end :)) much lovee thanks for reading!!

OH WAIT ONE LAST NOTE I'M SORRY i didn’t really have a way of organically incorporating this into the story n i’m not sure if i’ll get a chance to in the upcoming chapters, so i just wanted to share this part of ch7 (gojo’s pov chapter) that is relevant to this chapter:

During the thrilling semifinal match between Keio Uni, Gojo’s father’s team, and Yokohama Uni during the end of his senior year, spectators witnessed a game that most college soccer enthusiasts would deem was a once-in-a-lifetime watch. Both teams engaged in relentless offense, and Gojo’s father was on his way to shatter the record of the most goals scored in a single championship match within the history of the league, but when he received a call from his wife during a timeout with the most life-altering news he could have ever heard, he abandoned everything on the field that day to go home and be with her. Grainy footage from the televised broadcast still exists online today—the moment he sprinted across the field, confused players glancing in his direction, amidst the uproar of the crowd. She called to let him know she was pregnant.

the record that gojo broke in this chapter is the same record that his father almost broke before he got the call that he was going to be a dad :0

➸ you're all caught up!

additional notes. please do not pressure me for updates or ask when i will next update (read rules); taglist is currently closed (consider subscribing to the story on my ao3 for email updates if you'd like! :0)

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@wynney @delulux3 @higurumapet @zombriesworld @xenop0p

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hannieehaee · 13 days

Text

HOT TO GO!

18+ / mdi

summary: moving into a quiet apartment complex you expected to find nothing but solace, not your most entertaining situationship to date OR the three times you kept it casual with your new neighbor vs the one time he made things serious.

content: neighbor!jungkook, strangers2lovers, situationship (kind of), fwb, jk's a lil bit of a himbo in this fic, afab reader, smut, three smut scenes lol, penetrative sex, dry humping, oral (f and m receiving), fingering, etc.

wc: 7.1k

a/n: this is honestly just a silly and unserious fic that's mostly smut lol i hope u guys enjoy it<3

masterlist | patreon

"Oh, wow, uh, hey."

"Hi?", you looked at the stranger in curiosity, though still very shocked by the adonis of a man who had suddenly knocked on your door.

He cleared his throat and shook his head as if rebuffing himself to speak again, "Fuck, okay, that was such an uncool first impression. What I meant to say was 'Welcome to the neighborhood,' but you just caught me off guard. Sorry."

"I caught you off guard? You're the one who knocked on my door."

"Yeah, not gonna elaborate on that," he chuckled sheepishly, extending his hand, "Hi, I'm Jungkook, your neighbor," he introduced himself.

You chuckled in return, letting his ambiguity slide as you briefly shook his hand, providing him with your name, "Hi, Jungkook. I'm new here, if that wasn't obvious."

"No, yeah, you can really tell the difference between you and the old lady who used to live here. She was- wait, fuck. Did she-"

"No, Jungkook, she's not dead. The landlord told me she just moved into some retirement home," you clarified.

"Thank god," the boy sighed in relief, "Me and Mrs. Louis go way back. She used to bake me cookies on Sundays."

"Oh really? Well, you won't be getting any cookies from me. Sorry," you joked.

Cocking his head to the side, he lifted his eyebrows, "We'll see about that."

"What does that even mean?"

"I can be very convincing."

Was he flirting? Through a cookie euphemism?

"Are you-"

"Anyways, if you need any help with moving in, let me know. Maybe coming over to help build some furniture?", he suggested, "I like to be on a friendly standing with all my neighbors," he smiled as he disregarded his prior flirting, almost as if it had never happened.

"I'm your only neighbor. There's only two apartments per floor," you recalled, still amused by his oddity.

"Exactly," he winked, and with that, he turned to leave, heading back to his own apartment, "See you around."

It was through that very short interaction that you first met your neighbor, Jungkook. Despite how odd he had seemed, he carried a charm that intrigued you (though his pretty appearance also drew you in).

Closing your door, you went back to what you had been doing previously, a smile of disbelief on your face as you tried to come up with some believable reason to scout him for help – as he had offered – just to see him again.

Unfortunately, most of your stuff had not arrived yet, so you truly had nothing you could possibly use as an excuse to get him to come into your apartment so soon. It was nice, though, to know that your new neighbor was as friendly as he was (and as attractive, might you add).

"Hey, neighbor."

"Oh, hi, Jungkook. Did I forget to tell you my name last time?", you wondered why he'd omit your name, unless you had been too distracted last time staring at him to remember.

The next time you saw Jungkook was a day later at the apartment complex's laundry room located at the basement of the building. From what you'd seen the few times you'd walked by it on your way to the elevator, no one really seemed to use it. No one except Jungkook, apparently. You'd also come to find out that this apartment complex seemed to be occupied by mostly elderly people, with you and Jungkook being some of the few exceptions.

Eyeing you up and down in a not very discreet way, his eyes landed back on your face before responding, "No, just got distracted, sorry," he chuckled similarly to how he'd done last time.

This was the second time you'd seemingly caught him off guard, but you weren't complaining. The thought of your presence taking him out of focus gave you a slight boost in confidence, especially considering how attractive he was.

You eyed him curiously, noticing he had no laundry with him nor was he using either of the four washing machines located in the room. As soon as he came in, he took a seat on top of the washing machine next to the one you were currently putting your clothes into. When you smiled at him questioningly, he had no reaction, simply smiling back.

"What are you doing?", you asked whilst continuing your prior task, almost paying no mind to him.

"Just hanging out," he responded simply, swinging his feet back and forth as they hovered due to the stature of the washing machine he was currently sitting on.

"What, with me?"

"Yup. Just trying to be neighborly, is all. Shouldn't be down here all alone," he reasoned, "Can I help you? I love doing laundry."

You scoffed at that, "Really? You love doing laundry? Also, I don't need a bodyguard," you hadn't taken offense to his comment, but you'd found it somewhat amusing. He clearly just wanted to spend time with you, which admittedly made you feel slightly bashful. However, there was no harm in making him work for it a little more.

With a huff, he got off the washing machine and leaned down to help you organize your laundry, dividing it between colors, "I'm known as somewhat of a laundry fairy", he nodded seriously.

"Oh, so you do other people's laundry, then?"

"Yep," he nodded, "It's a whole profession. I part-time as bodyguard too," he joked, continuing to shuffle through your clothes.

"The perfect man," you retorted back, sarcasm in your tone.

"Exactly. You could make really good use of me," he winked, finishing up his pile of clothes and moving onto yours, beginning to place them inside the washing machine.

"Are you asking me to use you?", you braved it and flirted back, turning to look up at him.

The air in the room was comfortable, yet it now had a hint of something more. What it was, you weren't sure. Although Jungkook had hinted at being attracted to you when you first met a day prior, you'd never had a flirtation move so quickly. It usually took a bit more conversation before getting to the more suggestive comments, but the pleased look on his face as he looked down at you made you too excited to backtrack.

"I'm surprised it took you this long to get that. Was my self-invite to your apartment yesterday not hint enough?", he followed along, putting down the article of clothing he had in his hands to take a small step towards you, now leaving a very small distance between you.

"Oh? Was that what that was? I think I'm gonna need you to be a bit more specific. Spell it out for me, maybe?", you tilted your head to the side teasingly, almost as if daring him.

"Aw," he placed his hand on his chest, as if hurt, "That's my bad, pretty. I'll be a little more forward from now on, okay?", he coo'd, leaning down and letting his nose nudge against your own lightly.

"So, are you? Or are you all talk?", you dared him, tilting your face upwards, almost meeting his lips.

With a muted grumble, he closed the gap, pulling you towards him with a pull from your waist. Humming against your lips, he pressed you up against him, practically molding you to him as he allowed the kiss to become heated. The air in the room became even heavier somehow, causing you to mute any outside forces that could possibly take you away from a constant chorus of Jungkook playing in your head.

The kiss had no time for hesitance or shy meetings of lips as it instantly occupied the otherwise silent room with wet sounds of tongues intertwining and almost inaudible moans shared between lips. The harsh surface of the washing machine behind you almost felt like nothing as Jungkook's lips continued to distract you while his arms lifted you to sit on it. Legs opening, you welcomed him to stand between them, pulling him in my his shirt to ensure not even one second of distance between you was allowed.

Your head tilted back almost on its own accord as his lips trailed down your neck, humming into your skin after every kiss and occasional nibble of skin.

"J-Jungkook ... What if someone sees?", your common sense finally made an appearance, though you made no move to stop him.

"No one uses the laundry room here, it's fine. We have the place to ourselves," he breathed out between kisses, making his way back up to your lips.

With a scarily practiced finesse, his tongue snuck its way into your mouth, easing yours into copying his movements. Your resolve wore down quickly after that, following along with every touch of his on your skin. Despite not being one for casual hookups, it was impossible for you to deny the immediate chemistry you'd had with your neighbor. Who would casual sex with your neighbor going to hurt anyway?

His lips soon took your mind away from any further thought on the manner, trailing down your neck while his hands came up to wander under your tank top, tracing your skin with his calloused fingertips as goosebumps began to form. With soft hands and a rough tongue, Jungkook had your brain emptying at a worrying speed, now becoming a shell of yourself with nothing but Jungkook in mind. Just some kisses and some hand action already had you as putty under him, what a shame.

"Can I take this off?", he murmured against your lips, hands itching under your shirt as it rode up due to his movements.

"Mhm," you conceded, your own hands going under his shirt and feeling up the muscular skin of his back.

With your consent, his hands trailed their way back out from under your shirt, reaching down to help you out of it. Underneath was a tiny piece of fabric you could barely call a bralette, doing a terrible job of hiding the goosebumps on your skin or the hardness of your nipples. His tatted hand went up to toy with a clothed breast, murmuring praise against your cheek as he angled his head to look down at your chest. His eyes trailed to yours, finding them empty of any thought and far too wanting of more of his touch.

"How about this?" he practically whispered, one hand on your breast while the other went to toy at the strap of your bralette that had fallen from your shoulder to the meatier part of your arm, fingering at it softly, almost as if teasing whether or not he'd pull it all the way down or not.

"Yes," you almost whimpered, needing the skin-to-skin touch on your chest. Your back was already arched towards his chest, your body pleading him for more without any further words necessary.

He sighed once the job was done, your chest now fully naked for him and the rest of you almost equally as nude. It was only a tiny pair of shorts with some teeny tiny panties underneath that prevented him from your full nudity. In the meantime, he was still fully clothed. But somehow you didn't mind. His touch on your body was enough to keep you satiated. Surely you'd have your turn to enjoy his own nudity later on.

A groan left him upon hastily removing your shorts, now able to feel the heat coming from between your legs through the offensively thin panties you had on. Dragging you from your thighs, he placed you on the edge of the washing machine as he himself pulled down his pants just enough to leave him with boxers and some beaten up tank top. With a huff, he began intermittently connecting your crotches, bumping his hardness against your heat with a grumble. The art of dry humping might've been lost among many, but you were thanking any higher power that Jungkook was not one of the many to disengage with it.

"You're so warm already," he sighed, face pushing its way to your neck, nosing at your scent, "'n smell so fucking good ..."

Your nails dug to the skin of his shoulders, obsessed with the drag of his cock against you. He was hitting that sensitive, swollen spot that bad you wanting to give him a key to your apartment just so he could come over and do it over and over again.

"So fucking soft n pretty," he mumbled, "God, can't believe I got such a pretty little neighbor all to myself," he rambled on and on, "Gonna make you cum like this, okay, gorgeous? Promise I'll give you more next time, just- fuck ... just caught me off guard again's all ..." all his words were slurred, clearly marking the approximation of an early orgasm. What might've been a turn off for many others had your own high approaching just as fast. A hunk of a man such as Jungkook losing himself to mere dry humping? Sign you up!

"Me too," you almost whined, mouth open as you practically drooled at the feeling of that size and girth, excitement growing within you.

"Yeah? God, so fucking good n perfect," the praise was never ending, greatly aiding your impending orgasm.

With one last groan of your name, Jungkook's hips sped up, now dragging you more harshly into him in desperation for his orgasm. It was only a few moments into his own orgasm that you came too, too stimulated from his extensive play with your chest earlier on and simply too wound up to not find release with someone as attractive as he was.

In other circumstances you would've been embarrassed at how easily your body reacted to his own, but Jungkook seemed just as affected, still panting at the exertion his high had taken from him.

"Sorry," he chuckled breathlessly a few moments later, wide boba eyes staring at you with a shy smile, "I don't usually welcome people to the neighborhood by jumping them like that, hah, I hope I didn't overstep," he needlessly apologized as he helped you clean up with nearby towels and aided you in redressing you and himself.

Giggling at him couldn't be helped — he was far too cute. He was the perfect mixture of cuteness and hotness that it made you frustrated if you thought about it for too long.

"Jungkook, I promise you that was a very appreciated welcome," you laughed as you patted his shoulder reassuringly, stepping down from the washing machine.

"Great," he nodded with a smile, though still a but shy, "Let me help you with your laundry now, then? I won't jump you again, I promise."

"Maybe for next time, then?", you attempted to flirt, high fiving yourself internally when you pulled a shy chuckle out of him.

Next time you saw Jungkook was back in your apartment.

Maybe you should've expected him to be on the other side of that door, specially considering you hadn't met anyone else since moving here, but you also hadn't expected him to be so continuously forward.

Within less than a week of being here, you'd met Jungkook, flirted with him, hooked up in the laundry room and proceeded to wash your clothes with his aid — as it turned out, he really was better than the average person at doing laundry. And now, you were curious as to what the next thing to come would be.

After a few knocks on your door, you resumed drying off your hair and walked over to the door, skin still damp and thin robe wrapped around you. Being almost nude, you decided to be smart and look through the peephole before admitting a stranger into your home. Looking through it, you found the one person you'd hoped to see every time you left the apartment; Jungkook.

Had it been anyone else, maybe you would've bothered to ask him for a few minutes in order to get dressed before attending to the door. However, seeing as Jungkook had already seen you almost fully nude, it seemed dumb to do so. That, plus the fact that you were pretty sure how today's visit would go.

"Hey," he said casually when the door was opened.

Donning yet another tank top, the contour of his muscles could be easily seen as he leaned against the frame of the door. A confident and suave smile was on his lips the moment his eyes did a once-over of your body, clearly taking notice of the singular layer of clothing you had on.

"Huh," he hummed, "You're making this too easy for me," he chuckled, letting himself in when you stepped aside to silently welcome him.

"Hello, Jungkook," you ignored him, closing the door behind him, "Are you here to help me unpack?", you questioned upon seeing him approach the few boxes located in your living room and eyeing their contents curiously.

"Yeah. Figured you were taking too long to invite me over, might as well invite myself," he said distractedly, focus all spent on a bunny figurine he found in your boxes, mumbling a quiet 'cute' to himself.

"Let me get dressed and then we can start," you said, beginning to walk to your room while he sat on the floor, beginning to open some boxed furniture you hadn't even bothered to eye since its arrival.

Already in the other room, you heard Jungkook call over before you could close your door, mentioning something about 'You'll end up undressed anyways, but okay,' causing you to chuckle to yourself.

It only took you a few minutes to moisturize and dress yourself in some comfortable loungewear, able to hear Jungkook's ruckus all the way from your room. Despite his slight awkwardness shining through sometimes, he seemed to be a very confident guy, so it made sense to you that he'd made himself at home almost immediately upon his arrival.

Heading back to your living room, you found him sat comfortably on the floor, boxed materials to build what appeared to be a bookshelf laid in front of him while he eyed a manual. Originally, he had implied that his intention to go visit you had been for another hookup, so it amused you that he had actually taken his own words literally and decided to help you out with your furniture.

As you took a seat next to him, you decided to voice out this thought to him, "Wow, you're actually going to help me unpack?" you asked amusedly, hands reaching out to copy the way in which he assembled some pieces together.

He shrugged, "It's the neighborly thing to do," he reasoned, "Plus, the sooner you're unpacked, the sooner we can do more fun stuff."

Despite it being said so casually, it was more than enough encouragement for you to put your mind to the task, knowing that the unexpected help of your hot neighbor was way better than the alternative of getting all your moving in duties done by yourself.

It took about two hours to get done with most of your unpacking, combined with putting together the few pieces of furniture you had bought and neglected to build. The last of it was found in your bedroom in the form of a few boxes of skincare and clothing you'd been too lazy to unbox, opting to instead use whatever you needed at the time and leaving the rest unpacked. Jungkook tutted at you disappointingly at this, lightheartedly scolding you for not simply organizing your stuff as soon as you moved in and revealing to you how organized he was himself.

"Is there any box you want me to stay away from?", he wondered as he rummaged through one of the various boxes you'd moved onto your bed to organize.

"Nope, what do you mean?", you wondered, pulling out a hair dryer and placing it in its rightful spot before walking back over to the bed.

"Well, for instance ..." he trailed off, pulling out a tiny piece of lace you'd forgotten was in the box labeled as 'clothes' Jungkook was currently going through. He gave you an awkward smirk, his mind seemingly battling between being smug at the thong in his hands and affected by the thought of you wearing such a garment.

Immediately, your eyes widened, a gasp trapped in your throat before you jumped at him to grab at the lace, only for him to pull it back with a laugh, now holding it above your reach. You continued to pull at him, letting out an annoyed 'Jungkook!' to express your annoyance, but still laughing at how childish he was behaving.

He let you take hold of the thong after a few more slaps to his hard chest, laughing at your frustration. To prevent your further attacks, he grabbed onto your wrists, deciding to hold you against him as you let go of the panties and paid mind to him instead. Far too casually, he leaned down and trapped you in a soft kiss, humming against your lips as his hands wrapped around your waist and your own went to his shoulders. You damned him in your mind, chastising yourself for how easily it was for you to become entranced by his touch.

"You knew what was in there, didn't you? Hmm? Seductress," he joked against your lips, though the tone of his voice didn't make you laugh, especially not when it was said in an airy whisper between open mouthed kisses.

"Shut up," you grumbled, pulling him closer, unwilling to let the kiss end.

With masterful expertise, Jungkook managed to lay you down on the space of the bed empty of boxes, hands going under your shirt to trace the soft skin of your back. His lips trailed down to your neck and reaching down to the space of your chest not covered by your tank top, grumbling against your skin.

"You smell so nice," he sighed, "So fucking soft too," he continued, not shy in feeling your skin and even breathing you in.

Tuned with you, he disconnected from you to eye you for permission to remove your shirt, dragging it away from your body after a nod of confirmation from you and proceeding to remove his own. Your hands imitated his own, also feeling up his toned body as you continued to kiss. Now leaning atop you, he ground his crotch against your own, groaning into your lips at the basic pleasure he received from it.

"How far do you wanna go?", he murmured as he ground into you, "I'll do whatever you want. I owe you, remember?", he continued, referring to your encounter at the laundry room where he promised to fuck you properly next time.

"Do whatever you want," you replied, looping your lips again, "Just- fuck, do anything," you practically pleaded.

Chuckling, he nodded, opting to lay you down properly, moving aside any boxes that were in the way so you could lay all the way back while he trailed his way down your body, tugging down the tiny shorts you'd opted for a few hours earlier. You sighed at the realization of what was to come, ashamed to admit you'd been wondering how that piercing would feel between your legs.

"So soft here too," he mumbled, kissing up your thighs distractedly, making his way up to that area between your legs that was calling his name, "Fuck, 'n smell so good," his nose practically pressed up against the very thin layer of cloth separating him from your cunt, shamelessly breathing you in as he dragged his nose to press into your clit before pulling away.

A mute whine was pulled out of you, making your thighs attempt to close without much thought, only to make his arms wrap around your legs and pull them in opposite directions in order to separate them. He took a quick moment to pull your underwear down your legs, immediately going back to wrap around your legs to keep a wide enough space for him to enjoy you.

He began tentatively, almost as if testing out how he would go about having you. It only took some encouraging mewls from you for him to really put his heart into it, diving in as his tongue delved into your cunt, moaning against you. He hummed and groaned into your cunt, especially so whenever your hands would pull at his overgrown mullet, pulling him even closer to you. Taking advantage of his large nose, he nosed at your clit while his tongue played with your cunt. Your mewls and the scratching against his scalp should've been more than enough indicator that he had you at the palm of his hand.

"Baby," he moaned against you, refusing to create any distance between you, "you taste so good, fuck," he cried out, as if he were the receiver of the pleasure. But then again, maybe he was — or at least that's the gist you got from the commotion happening under you as the bed bumped with every movement of Jungkook's hips humping against it.

"K-kook, fuck, right the- oh, fuck ... right there!", you cried when his fingers joined in on the equation, tongue focused on your clit while his fingers curled inside you to perfection.

It was embarrassing how soon you felt your orgasm approaching, but you didn't blame yourself, not when a 10 was on his knees, whimpering against your cunt and letting endless muffled praise leave his lips while his tongue refused to let out. You lost control of yourself at some point, unashamed in the way you pushed his face against you, closing your thighs around his head and ground into his face. This only caused a high pitched whine to leave Jungkook, following your silent instruction for more and giving in to you twice as hard.

"Cum, baby. Wanna taste, fuck, please," he pleaded, looking up at you for a quick moment, making your brain leave you entirely at the pretty eyes he was making up at you, practically begging for your orgasm to come.

If you were boneless and defeated before, you were more so now, losing yourself to your orgasm as the pretty boy continued to lick and suck at your release, humming as if he had just been provided the most satiating meal. The humping of his hips never stopped either, only accelerating upon your high and only halting when you'd gone down from it, insisting on pulling him up the bed to claim his lips, wanting to enjoy them while the arousal was still fresh on him.

"God, fuck, you're nasty," he chuckled breathlessly when your tongue quite literally attacked his mouth, insistent on tasting yourself on his lips. This was clearly not a complaint, but more like a happy realization, as Jungkook practically reached down your throat as he tongued at your mouth, providing you with your own taste and moaning endlessly as he did so.

"Did you cum?", you asked between kisses, eyebrows pinched with worry that you wouldn't get to play with him this time around either.

He chuckled, a bit embarrassed, "No, pretty. Almost, though. I can just finish myself off if you're tired or-"

"No!" you interrupted, not shy in reaching down to his still clothed cock, feeling the length through his clothed ad he shuddered, "Let me suck you off? Fair trade, right?", you suggested, wanting nothing more than that size inside you one way or another.

"Oh, you sure? I don't want to force you or anything-"

You interrupted again, gesturing at him to flip you over so he could be under you this time around, "No, Kook. Please? I really want it. Can I have it?", you decided to be a bit mean, playing up the begging under the assumption that a guy like Jungkook would probably enjoy it.

You were right.

"O-oh, okay, beautiful," he rasped, hands in a frenzy to undo his sweats so he could give you access to his dick, "Just, fuck, give me a second. I don't wanna cum right away," he blushed, giving you a sweet peck before leading you to your knees while he sat at the edge of the bed.

With an excited giggle, your hands joined his own to help him lower his pants and boxers just enough to give you access to his length — the same one that had dragged against you until completion just a few days prior. His groan at your touch was immediate, body physically shuddering when you wrapped your hand around it and eyed it with hunger. His hands laid on his thighs, fingers itching as he attempted to hold his reactions back.

"Can I?", you asked, leaning closer to it as your hand remained wrapped around it.

"Yes, just, fuck, don't laugh when I cum too soon," he warned with a whine.

Another giggle left you before finally lowering your head down to his own head, lips wrapping around it and suctioning meanly. With a hum, your tongue lightly licked at the tip, earning a mixture of a groan and a sigh from the man north of you. Your hand remained wrapped around his length, twisting while you tortured the tip with your mouth. To ensure you could really drive him crazy, your other hand joined in, playing at his balls and earning yet another sound of supplication from him.

"G-god, fuck, wait- Don't- Fuck, more, baby, please," he begged, hand shyly going to the back of your head to lightly encourage you to engulf him in your mouth.

"Want my mouth?", you asked as you let go of him, though still lightly licking at the sides of his dick, unwilling to stop teasing for as long as you could help it.

"C'mon, baby. I gave you my mouth, just- Oh, fuck, yes," he sighed when you decided to practically down the majority of his dick, enveloping as much as you could while using your hand to jerk off the small percentage of it that couldn't fit into your mouth.

You decided to show off as much as you could, taking him far enough to gag and pushing through it for as long as possible. The whines and whimpers coming from the man above you were more than enough reward for your efforts.

"F-fuck, you don't have to g-gag, baby, shit, don't force yourself," he panted out, barely able to get those words out without effort. This only encouraged you further, puffing out air from your nose in order to obtain as much oxygen as possible. You knew he wad almost at his end, so you used every asset available to you to break him. You took breaks to breathe every so often, but other than that, you were practically a machine attached to his cock.

"Okay, shit, fuck," he stammered out curses, "Gonna cum, pretty, w-where? In your mouth? Please? Fuck, let me cum in your mouth," he rambled while his hands made a mess of your hair as he attempted to keep it away from your face. His hips also began a slow and shy grind against your face — a barely visible movement but still completely present. It represented his lack of control as you blew his mind away, something which went straight to your core.

You nodded, humming against his dick knowing it'd cause a vibration that'd have him keening for his orgasm. And right you were, as his hands shamelessly pushed your head into his cock without a second thought, clearly too overcome with the pleasure of his orgasm to worry about gagging you with his cum. You, however, took it like a champ, reasoning that within some seconds you'd get to breathe properly again.

"G-god, baby, just like that ... C-cumming, shit" he cried, hips still pushing into your mouth. You wished you could see how his whiny demeanor manifested onto his face — those gorgeous features must've looked breathtaking when pleasure was all he felt.

Finally, you gasped out for air after having swallowed as much as you could manage, with some of it dripping past your lips. Jungkook let himself lay back on the bed to catch his breath while you remained on your knees catching yours.

This lasted very little when Jungkook suddenly decided to use his brute strength to drag you up on the bed, sitting your still wet middle on his flaccid self, pulling you in for yet another tongue-filled kiss. He hummed and moaned and whined as he licked every remnant of his essence from your mouth, causing a similar reaction from you.

After the fact, you shuffled yourself off him and made space on the bed to huddle up to his side, which he welcomed by cocooning you under his arm and pulling you flush against him. It was comfortable and silent for a few moments as you continued catching your breaths and letting the sweat on your bodies transpire — you also made a mental note to invite him to take a shower (with you, maybe).

"You moving in next door was not on my bingo card, but thank fucking god for that," he chuckled after a few moments of silence.

"Yeah? You didn't stalk your previous neighbors for a hookup?", you joked, receiving a devious squeeze of his strong arm in retaliation.

"Shut up," he tutted, "You like that I'm like a dog following you around."

Fair enough.

Silence then took over again, up until the two of you were rested enough and decided to get back to the task at hand — putting furniture together and unpacking anything that was left boxed (though you decided to leave any boxes that may contain panties away from his reach).

It was easy for you to fall into fun conversation with Jungkook, which only led to him staying over for far longer than anticipated, taking up your day and even ordering takeout for you to eat after getting all the grunt work out of the way. A shower was had, though you mutually agreed for no funny business (other than a good ten minutes of making out under the water, but that didn't count in your eyes). Since he lived right next door, he managed to extend his visit up until the last minute, entertaining you more than anything had in the past week of moving in.

One month into your new place and you decided the move was probably one of the best decisions you'd ever made. You'd come to find that Jungkook's old neighbor was not the only old lady living in the building, but that the neighborhood was mostly made up of old people (which, granted, Jungkook had warned you of in passing). That gave to a slightly boring home life, but you liked it better this way. Jungkook being your sole young neighbor was more than enough, specially with how often he went out of his way to seek you out.

After those first two hookups, no time for anything else was really had. This made you embarrassingly needy. The anticipation for finally having actual sex with Jungkook was too much too handle, specially when he'd still occasionally bump into you and catch you off guard with a kiss (which usually led to a make-out far too filthy for the public setting). You'd started your new job a week after moving and Jungkook was occupied by some reason or another, meaning that you'd only really see each other in passing. Although you'd text and keep up with each other, the frustration continued to build up.

The third time you were really able to get Jungkook alone was a little over a month after moving in.

You weren't particularly proud of how it is that you got him back in your apartment, but in your defense, you were ovulating that night and feeling particularly needy. Knowing that Jungkook was a bit of an unserious man, you knew that some pull from you and he'd put everything aside to come crawling. The thought itself made you feel powerful.

With a single 'accidental' text (maybe it was a lewd image, you'll never tell), you began to hear obnoxious knocking on your front door — within seconds of delivery, might you add. Excitedly, you walked over to the door, opening it to find a breathless Jungkook holding up his phone with your conversation pulled up, the incriminating picture taking up his screen.

"You're so mean to me," he managed to say before you pulled him in with a kiss, kicking the door behind you and turning around so he could press you up against the now closed door.

"Mean? I didn't do anything," you feigned between kisses, already lightheaded.

"I've been wanting to come over," he sighed into your lips, trailing down to your neck to catch his breath, "Just been so busy, fuck. If you wanted me so bad, you could've just come visit. I'd drop anything to have you," he continued, unable to unglue his lips from your skin. His hands mirrored his sentiment, grabbing at every curve with a desperation you hadn't seen from him before.

"I thought you were the one that was supposed to be chasing after me?", you joked with a breathless chuckle.

"Sometimes I need a little encouragement, baby. Need to know I'm not just bugging you," he replied as he undressed you almost as if it were second nature to him.

Walking you back into what he knew to be your room, he laid you down, now donning nothing but your panties. He soon after matched your nudity, stripping of his muscle tee and sweats, making his way on top of you as he'd done last time.

"Will you be mad if I fuck you?", he rasped, one hand at your boobs and another rubbing at your cunt through the thin layer covering it.

"You're an idiot," you deadpanned, "I'll be mad if you don't."

Needing no further confirmation, his hand slipped past your panties, rubbing circles on the puffiness of your clit while continuing to kiss you. This didn't last for long, simply being used as an aid to lubricate you with your own wetness as his fingers reached a little souther to smear your slick around while his thumb continued to play with the swollen bud.

Already unclothed, Jungkook took his hand away from you, resulting in a whine from your lips to his and moving his hand onto his own arousal. Jerking himself a few times, he stopped kissing you in favor of leaning back to look down at you while twisting his fist on his dick. After quickly fishing for a condom from his discarded pants, he went back to his previous position, rolling it in while you nagged at him to hurry.

Before actually entering you, of course he had to piss you off one last time by teasing your clit with the tip of his cock, groaning when he felt you flutter beneath him. One kick from you was enough for him to chuckle and finally enter you, groaning in unison with you at the feeling.

"Jesus Christ," you groaned when you felt him begin bottoming out, inch by inch filling you up enough to cause an unknown level of pleasurable pain. You hadn't stopped to think what that size would feel like inside you — or at least as much as he was able to get in.

Above you, Jungkook looked tortured, still and with a wincing look on his face as he waited for the green light to begin moving in and out of you. It took you a few moments longer, nimble fingers digging into the muscles of his arms before you finally nodded at him to move.

"Fuck," he groaned upon finally beginning to pick up a pace, biting his lip and his eyes almost rolled back.

"More," you urged, falling in love with the feeling of him immediately.

Your eyes were crossed, your fingers digging far too painfully into his skin, your legs wrapped around him like a vice, everything was far too intense far too quickly. He obeyed your plea immediately, making matters worse for you, having already been blowing your mind prior but now simply melting it.

"How do you feel this good?", he grunted. His arms reached your thighs, pulling you up a bit to hammer into you at a better angle, "Should've fucked you since that first day, shit. How'd I get such a pretty- fuck, such a pretty girl delivered right to my door?", he went on, sweat building on his skin.

The slapping of skin sped up with the proximity of Jungkook's orgasm, just as yours followed along. His hands were restless, attempting to hold you up while also thirsty to feel every possible inch of your body.

"Please tell me you're close, or else this is going to be really embarrassing for me," he muttered onto your skin.

With a chuckle, you confirmed your incoming high, whining when he finally let himself go and sped up in order to reach his own orgasm, now more relaxed knowing you were right with him.

He let out some uncharacteristically high moans as he filled up the condom, groaning and stilling once he was finally done. You joined him mere seconds later, arching your back and pressing your chest against his own as bliss encompassed you. Despite the sticky sweat covering you both, Jungkook let himself fall against you, pulling out and placing the condom aside momentarily so he could lay beside you while you caught your breath.

In the almost silent room, Jungkook nuzzled against you and kissed the sweaty skin he could reach, hands playing with your hair as he pressed you up against him.

"Would it be bad if I asked you out? Or should I have done that before seducing you in the laundry room?", he wondered out loud, leaving love bites on your neck.

You laughed at how random he could be, appreciating how he spoke his thoughts aloud most of the time, "You can ask me out, I won't bite. Unlike some people," you muttered the last part, giggling when he gave you a slightly harsher bite.

"You like it, don't lie," he muttered, suddenly getting up and dragging you with him despite your whine in negation, "C'mon, we're going to take a shower, have a quickie, and then I'm taking you out for some boba," he decided, using his inhuman strength to pull you up and drag you to your restroom.

"But-"

"C'mon, I've been wanting to ask you out since you moved in, I'm already late," he hushed you, carrying your basically limp body to the restroom with the promise of a fun night, something you did not have it in you (nor did you want to) deny.

to read short 1.6k word continuation (+ all other previously written bonus content) you can go join my jk monthly tier on patreon!

content: smut, afab reader, oral (f receiving), etc.

wc: 433 (teaser); 1619 (full drabble)

sneak peak:

"Are you ever going back to your apartment?", you murmured, though it was likely muffled by the large body wrapped around you.

"What, already tired of me?", asked Jungkook as he continued to nose at your skin, a habit you realized he had soon after making things official. He had a sensitive nose, he'd said once, always enjoying the cosmetic products that gave you that floral scent he adored.

After a month of officially dating, Jungkook had become the human manifestation of a leech. It was rare for him to leave tour side whenever you so happened to have free time and would take advantage of the proximity between your apartments.

Being frank, this was something you loved about him. Still in the honeymoon phase, there was nothing better than getting to see your boyfriend at any given time, especially when he was the one seeking you out. He made you feel wanted and like you were a necessity for him, almost as if he had an addiction to you.

That being said, the man just would not leave your apartment.

Now, this wasn't too much of a bother thus far. You liked it, in fact (at least for the most part). He was quite clean while also being laid back, which was a great combination to have in a person who was practically taking on the role of your roommate.

He did, however, prove to become a distraction when it came to your day to day life. You allowed yourself to indulge in his company too much, leading to a huge drop in your productivity.

But what could you do? He was addictive.

"You love having me around, don't lie to yourself," he continued, "What, tired of waking up to head?", he joked, hands making their way under your shirt to cheekily trace your skin.

"Waking up to head?," you asked incredulously, "You woke me up by tickling me, you menace."

He chuckled, adjusting himself on the bed so he could climb on top of you, knees settled on each side of you and hands slowly bringing your top up.

"Okay, fine. Maybe I've been a bad guest. Let me make it up to you?", he grinned, snaking his way down your body until his head was leveled with your stomach, kissing the skin he'd freed just moments prior.

"Better make it worth my while or else I'll start charging you rent for every hour you spend in here."

"I'll move in. Don't threaten me with a good time," he joked, knowing most of his time was spent here with you regardless.

...

find the 18+ continuation on patreon!

if you have trouble finding it on there, just let me know!!<3

#jungkook imagine #jungkook smut #jungkook fanfic #jungkook scenario #jungkook x reader #bts imagine #bts imagines #bts scenario #bts fanfic #bts x reader #bts smut

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luvwestwood · 8 months

Text

"AFK" - Choso Kamo (with twt links)

"..like fortnite, i’ma need your skin.."

3,012 words.

warnings. nsfw(18+), bf/gamer! choso, oral sex (m rec.), humiliation, desk sex, exhibitionism, trying not to get caught, feral choso, p in v, throat fucking, oral sex (m receiving), overstimulation, degradation, choso whimper links included lol,

notes. my previous drabble abt choso had a lil kick to it, definitely had to make it into a full one-shot! hope u guys enjoy, and thank u for 450 followers hehe, so I included twt links! ^^

credits to @/plutism for dividers, @/adrienwithane for banner.

russian translation by @juliabelll ❤️

Not too long ago, it was Choso's birthday. Being an amazing girlfriend you are, of course you built him a brand new PC. It cost you an arm and a leg, but that didn't matter at all when it came to Choso. Seeing him happy itched a part of your brain, especially when he was the one who would pay for everything: dates, your online shopping carts, you name it.

He never really bought anything for himself. You were getting tired of the countless times that he went on a tangent about how slow his previous machine was. It was doing your head in, so you saved up. For what you now call a 'not-blessing-in-disguise'.

Choso was obsessed with his new PC, and it wasn’t an exaggeration. Part of you was starting to regret it all. The man barely paid attention to you.

Am I the asshole for being mad that my boyfriend likes his gift a bit too much? No, I wouldn't think so. I should be delighted, but it's pretty much getting outrageous.

The fact that he has almost every single game out there on that PC in just a span of one week since he got it - means there's more for him to do. Every day, he'd wake up, do a bit of house stuff then sit his ass down to play with his friends. For as long as he can. Never leaving that room. Hell, he wouldn't even bother answering your messages until an hour later. 'Mb, was on the game' is something that was engraved in your brain by now.

Every time you'd come over, he'd ignore you simply by just gluing his eyes on the screen. If you try to nap, just go home. You've lost track of how many times he's managed to wake you up with his blood-curdling screams. There were times when Choso didn't even notice you leaving, which upset you quite a bit.

Of course, you had moments when you needed him the most. Like, badly. Freshly shaved, he's not even mentally there to take a peek. You could be naked and oiled up in his bed, Choso wouldn't even bat an eye.

…Advice to self, don't get him a PS5 this Christmas.

"Choso," You called out, sat on the edge of the bed behind him. No answer. Per usual, you wanted to rip that headset off his head.

Dark circles were forming around his eyes, endless cans of monster were scattered all over his desk. "Nah let's just fight Oscar, we've got a minute until the circle closes."

Rolling your eyes, a scoff escapes your mouth. Aaand he didn't hear you. Crossing your arms, you furrow your brows. He was honestly testing your patience. "Choso?!"

Choso flinches a bit, pulling one side of his headset away from his ear. His gaming chair spins around to face you. "Baby?"

He knew you were mad. You looked more than pissed. It was really because this recurring behavior of his was getting too much. "Your eyes are always on that screen! Did you even know that I was here!?”

“I-I’m sorry. Look, I'll get off after this game!” From his headset you could hear Choso’s friends teasing and picking on him. They probably heard you scolding your poor boyfriend. You couldn’t care less.

As soon as you were about to speak, he immediately spun his chair back around to face that stupid monitor again. He was too engrossed in the game. It was his squad of four against the only opposing team.

Groaning, you flop back onto his mattress. "..You always say that, and you never do." Muttering under your breath, you stare at the ceiling blankly. What felt like a hammer to your head, Choso's war cries could only get louder each second.

The past few days, you had no choice but to use your own fingers to toy with yourself. You were needy, and you missed your boyfriend's touch. Too bad he was too occupied. How come his keyboard and mouse get to be touched by him more than your....

Using all of your strength, you sat yourself up again on the edge of his mattress. Realizing there's no use in scolding him, you quietly walked up behind Choso, combing your fingers through his hair. You loved when it was down, and he loved it when you played with his hair. He found it relaxing. You could tell by the way his body was no longer tensed up, the back of his head falling heavy onto your hand.

Your hands left his hair, travelling down to his nape. With your freshly manicured nails (which he paid for), you gently scratched his skin on his neck. You could see goosebumps forming, but said nothing about it. Choso who was ticklish, tilted his head to the side - "Mmm," He hummed, telling you off as you were starting to distract him.

Letting out a laboured sigh, you stared at the back of his head. Wondering what to do with him, you pouted. Maybe I should just leave like every other day? No, I can't back down.

He seems really busy. Would he even notice if I crawled under his desk? Grinning, you got on your knees, crawling like a kitty underneath his desk but making minimal noise. You glanced behind your shoulder to see his reaction, but his eyes were still gawking at the flashing screen in front of him.

Coming face to face with his sweats, you kneeled, just in level with his lap. Peeking your head out from the shadows under his desk, Choso had only noticed you then. His eyes widened, the sight of you looking up at him like a puppy had started to cloud up his thoughts.

Grabbing onto his wrist, he slowly let go of his mouse. Bringing his hand to your cheek, he took it in the palm of his hand, eventually giving in and using his thumb to softly caress your lips. "..I missed you, Choso.." You whispered, softly sucking on his thumb. "..I need you,"

His breath hitched, your words were doing something to him. What a fool he was for ignoring you all this time? Just then, a cacophony of voices screaming through his headset broke him out of his trance. Choso's warm hand left your face, causing you to frown. Your fun was cut short. Way too short.

You had enough, deciding it was time you finally got what you wanted. Snaking your two hands up the soft cotton of his sweats, they stopped right at his crotch. His eyes anxiously shot down to you underneath him, telling you off and pointing to his headset.

Placing a finger onto your lips, you told him to just be quiet. His eyes frantically flickered from you, then to his monitor. Slowly, you slid down his pants. Smiling at the way he rose himself up from his seat slightly, so it would be easier to take them off. Of course, he wasn't wearing anything underneath.

Taking his long, thick cock into your hands, you jerked it ever so slightly. Choso cleared his throat, keeping his mouth shut all of a sudden in case he accidentally makes unwanted noise. He was practically melting under your touch, into the chair. Gliding your tongue over his pink tip, he didn't dare look at you. Not long after, your warm mouth wrapped over him, Choso letting out a sigh of relief at the feeling.

You knew how to push his buttons, bringing yourself to fully deepthroat his cock for a few seconds. His lips purse shut, Choso slightly biting down onto his bottom lip. His fingers started to press on the wrong keys, unable to focus on the game.

Pulling away, a string of saliva connected your tongue and his aching tip. You brought your lips back onto his cock, bobbing your head and hollowing your cheeks as you used your two hands to jerk him off at the same time.

The man above was folding at the pornographic sight underneath him. Hearing Choso moan by accident, he quickly covered it up with a cough. “…Yeah, no, I’m good- Just don’t- feel well..”Friends concerned, Choso had come up with a convincing lie in just seconds. His hand reached down to rake through your hair until his fist was full of it. [link]

He lightly pushed your head up and down his length, your mouth making sloppy noises all over, buckets of spit dripping down your chin and his balls.

Ripping his headset off, Choso didn't care about the game anymore. Or his friends. He groaned as you fondled with his balls, giving them a suck afterwards. His light grey pants were turning a darker shade than before. His two hands clawed into your hair on both sides of your face, Choso started to fuck his cock into the back your throat.

Moaning, his eyes shut tightly as his head fell back onto the cushion of his chair. His balls tightening as he heard how you constantly gagged over his thick cock. "Fuck.. Just like that.."

His moans were a mixture of curses and long groans, tears started to well up in your eyes. Choso opened his eyes again, looking down at you as he drew your mouth away from his cock. He smiled, seeing your makeup all ruined, your face covered with spit and so did his lap.

Rolling his chair away from the desk, he grabbed you from underneath. Only to pull it back again, placing it in front of his PC. Guiding his hand on your back, he bent you over on the chair, making your two legs kneel on the soft cushion so you wouldn't tire out. [link]

Holding tightly onto your hair, your head fell back towards him. Choso had ripped the fabric of your leggings that was unfortunately covering your cunt. Grabbing his cock, he lined himself up with your hole, his hands shaking from how eager he was.

Easily sliding in from the slick that covered your hole, you grabbed onto the arm rest in front of you; Choso stretching you out completely. Wasting no time, he began to move his hips back and forth, fucking his hard cock into you.

His monitor started to gently shake from how hard his cock was bullying into you, skin slapping as his balls that were full of weeks load cum made contact with your clit.

"C-Choso.." You cried out, your hand reaching back to his pelvis. Staring at yourself getting fucked like a slut through the reflection of his PC monitor, your ass rippled with each and every one of his thrusts.

Maintaining his brutal pace, his fingers were no longer woven into your hair, reaching out to the headset on his desk. Confused, you kept your eyes open to watch Choso place them over your head. "W-What..?"

His hands gripped onto the flesh of your hips, Choso leaned into your ear. "Keep moaning you slut, let them hear you." All of a sudden he groaned, feeling you clench around him at what he just said. "You like that, don't you?"

Spinning you slightly to one side, his leg went up onto the chair with you, allowing him more leverage to fuck you deeper. "Eyes up at that camera too, show them how pretty you look taking my cock," Tears started to stream down the sides of your cheeks, your face had flushed red.

Choso's hands took a hold of your hair again, his tip kissing your cervix repeatedly. "I.." Speechless, you lost your ability to form a basic sentence. His fat cock left you braindead, at this point you were seeing nothing but stars.

"..Use your words baby," A creamy white ring started to form at his base as his cock pistoned in and out of you. Choso's hand kept stamping down on your back from time to time to make sure you kept that arch. "..Isn't this what you've been wanting all week?"

"Y-you're so deep.. I can't.." Your hand reached back to his abs, twisting the white fabric of his tank top until it was all wrinkly. He took a hold of your wrist, twisting your arm behind you. Choso slightly bent over, his warm body resting against your back.

He quietly groaned into your ear, chanting your name like a prayer. You were fucked out of your mind. "You feel so good.. like this pussy was made for me." The pace of his thrusts slowed down, but his hips still rut into you hard each time. His strokes hard and deep, you swear could feel him all up in your guts. Your jaw had dropped, your head falling back onto his shoulder.

Choso's hands reached under your loose shirt, letting your tits spill out of your bra. Gently twisting your nipple between his finger tips, fondling with your whole breast afterwards, he forgot how much he loved wrapping his mouth around those.

"Your cock.. It feels so good.." You babbled, Choso sneaking his fingers underneath to rub lazy circles on your clit. Your legs began to tremble, fortunately your throat managed to choke out a whine.

Also seeing him in the reflection of his monitor, strands of his hair started to stick to his face. Multiple beads of sweat had formed on his forehead. Choso didn't want to leave your pussy. Not even Thor could pull him out. He enjoyed using you like a cock whore.

You felt so dizzy, mind full of his cock. Choso let out multiple whimpers as he felt his orgasm nearing, his index finger hooking onto the side of your mouth. The very last few seconds, his cock bottomed into you, trying to chase your orgasm. The desk hitting against he wall non-stop, his headset that was on you started to fall off your head.

Leaving a trail of wet kisses down your back, his hand grabbed onto the plush flesh of your ass, continuously giving it a spank every now and then.

The wet, slapping noises of your skin continued to follow, until you felt his thrusts come to a sudden halt. His hot cum shooting inside of you rope after rope, just before he pulled out to let the rest out onto your ass. "..Fuck.. look at that."

Using his thumb to spread your hole wide open, his load spilt onto the black leather of his gaming chair. You panted, tired and hole throbbing. You got what you wanted, that’s for sure. Forcing his headset off you, you couldn't do anything but lean against his desk, trying to regulate your breathing pattern back to normal.

"..We're not done here," Choso laughed behind you, your cunt still dripping of his thick load. His hands roughly turned your body around, placing you on top the desk to face him. Using his foot to push the chair away, he lined his cock with your hole again, using his cum that was already inside of you as lube.

"Oh m-my- Choso!" You yelped, one hand taking grip onto his shoulder for support, the other holding knocking his keyboard out of the way, trying to find something to hold onto other than his shoulder.

His forehead rested against yours, the staggering movement of his hips causing the desk itself to shake under the two of you. Choso watched as his cock disappeared in and out of your hole, grunts coming out through his clench teeth as he wrapped his large hands around your thighs. He wanted more, and wasn't going to stop anytime soon.

"..Good girl," He gritted through his teeth, "..I love t-this pussy, and you." Choso's hands pressed flat against the desk, his lips locking onto yours. His cock was coated in a mixture of his and your own cum, your sweaty bodies intimately hugging against each other.

Choso wanted to feel all you, he just craved more and more each minute. His hands shakily held onto the sides of your waist, his lips moving to your jaw to plant more kisses.

"You're so beautiful, look at me baby." Choso lightly tapped the side of your face, telling you to maintain eye contact.

Obeying, you kept your eyes open; looking into his but not a thought behind your own eyes. You only continued to whine under his touch, overstimulated from how much he's used you like a cock whore. You were so close to losing your mind, drunk off his cock.

Choso too, was lost in your pussy. God, was he whipped— If only he could stay inside you forever, he definitely would. This whole time he was busy cursing at himself, how much of an idiot he is to not appreciate what he has - you. Your cheeks were stained with your hot tears, Choso hushing you and wiping them away every now and then.

“S-Shit, I’m gonna cum again.” He pants, feeling his balls tighten for the second time, the tightness of your pussy heightening his stimulation.

Your hands cupped both of his cheeks, pulling him in for a kiss. His thrusts turning sloppy, you cooed. “..Cum for me, I want it all inside..”

This caused the coil inside of Choso to snap, him desperately whimpering into your ear as he hid his face in the crook of your neck. “F-fu-ck..” Tightly holding onto the flesh of your hips, he made sure his second load stayed inside of you.

Sliding his cock out, Choso rested his heavy cock just above your pussy. Making sure he planted a peck on your forehead, trying to catch his breath. The two of you laugh, your bodies aching and sweaty, his entire desk and chair a mess.

Reaching for something, you blinked as Choso grabbed his headset that ended up on the other side of the desk. Placing one side against his ear, he spoke into the mic. "..GG."

⊹ ࣪ ˖ ⤳ © luvwestwood ‘24 all works are owned by me, and originally come from my own head. please do not re-post on a third party platform without my permission!

⊹ ࣪ ˖ ⤳ as always, thank you for the love on each and every one of my posts! it means the world to me 🎀🩷

[luvwestwood masterlist]

#jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #choso kamo smut #choso kamo x reader #choso smut #choso kamo #choso x reader #jjk choso #choso x you #jjk drabbles #jjk smut

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leclercwriting · 2 months

Text

age gap | daniel ricciardo social media au

pairing: daniel ricciardo x fem reader

you are an influencer who starts dating older f1 driver daniel ricciardo

masterlist

y/n.user

liked by danielricciardo, yourbff1 and 567,930 others

caption: my life since the rumours

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yourbff1: the rumours are kinda funny tho

y/n.user: yeah.. "rumours"

user73: DOES THIS MEAN THAT THE RUMOURS ARE TRUE?

user62: what rumours?!

danielricciardo: xx

user83: daniel?

user2: wait... the rumours are that he and y/n are dating, right?

user74: yeah

daniel.jpg

liked by landonorris, maxverstappen1 and 123,938 others

caption: rumours confirmed

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maxverstappen1: this is how i get to know your girlfriend?

daniel.jpg: sorryy maximilian

landonorris: isn't she too young? you old man

daniel.jpg: she has an old soul

y/n.user: DANIEL

landonorris: hey y/n. I'm lando btw

y/n.user: hey lando

user73: omg they are actually so cute together

user46: lmao she's just using him

user9: weird

user525: she's still a child omg

y/n.user: oh I wish. But thanks for compliment that I look young

user3: she slayed

landonorris

liked by danielricciardo, y/n.user and 567,939 others

caption: if you go out with daniel and y/n, be prepared for daniel carrying her around...

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danielricciardo: she's always tired.. not my fault

y/n.user: ME? u always want to carry me

danielricciardo: not true

y/n.user: I'm done with you

landonorris: first couple fight?

danielricciardo: yeah..

user66: I'm starting to like them together

y/n.user: good taste

user3: idk but it's still weird

user2: she's so young

y/n.user: no wayyy

yourbff1: they are so cute

y/n.user: <3

y/n.user

liked by danielricciardo, yourbff1 and 1,839,378 others

caption: I bought daniel new t-shirts so he can wear them to the paddock (haters will love these)

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landonorris: poor danny boy

danielricciardo: I actually love them

maxverstappen1: no way

y/n.user: @ kellypiquet Kelly buy some t-shirt for max too. Atleast he doesn't have to repeat outfits

user63: poor daniel.. she's manipulating him

danielricciardo: I literally picked those t-shirts

user73: daniel and y/n are the best couple. Argue with the wall

yourbff3: omg i love you for this babe

y/n.user: I ate

user77: u did!

y/n.user

liked by danielricciardo, maxverstappen1 and 578,838 others

caption: enjoyed my first gp, and now it's summer break

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user83: most hated but the best couple award goes to... y/n and daniel

y/n.user: thanks I guess

danielricciardo: our shoey was 🔥

y/n.user: hell yeah

landonorris: what about me and you daniel? :(

danielricciardo: sorry lando

maxverstappen1: why is daniel acting like a teenager again

y/n.user: cause I changed him

user38: you really did

user3: I love this new version of danny

y/n.user: me too

danielricciardo

liked by maxverstappen1, landonorris and 673,939 others

caption: enjoying summer break with the best people. y/n can drink!! I'm not serving alcohol to minors

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user83: daniel and his humour lol

y/n.user: baby u know that I can drink for a long time right?

danielricciardo: uhm of course

landonorris: he probably forgot your birthday

user63: yall stop hating and be happy for them

maxverstappen1: u kidnapped child?

danielricciardo: that's my nephew u idiot

maxverstappen1: oh sorry

y/n.user

liked by maxverstappen1, danielricciardo and 345,388 others

caption: I want to have kids. Look at my man. He's so girl dad coded

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user73: uhm does she know that this is public account?

danielricciardo: Y/N?!

maxverstappen1: lol

maxverstappen1: @ danielricciardo u have a lot of work to do

danielricciardo: mate, kelly wants another kid too so shut up

user3: omg danny ric kid?

y/n.user: I hope

BONUS:

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dwaekkicidal · 4 months

Text

Lessons

˚ʚfwb!Bang Chan x fem!Readerɞ˚

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ summary: Just a regular session of your best friend helping you learn Korean <3

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ word count: 1.6k

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ warnings: fem!reader, nicknames; ‘honey and good girl,’ pvssy slaps, playful ass&thigh spanking, Chris calls himself Daddy once lol, rough sex, creampie (try to pee after sex pls <3)

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ notes: max and I spoke about this a few weeks ago and it was soo hot so I wanted to write something for it,,, but then I lost motivation for it for a while😭 anyways hope u enjoy <3

OH and thank you for 700 followers!! (im late so now so ~25 away from 800) :''') I have something planned for if/when I hit 1k hehe, Love u guys :>

DO NOT republish or translate+post my work!

After you had moved to Korea, you made it your sole goal to be completely fluent in Korean as soon as possible. You knew the basics and some vocabulary that got you through day-to-day encounters, but holding an actual conversation past introductions was rather difficult. So, this is how you found yourself in your current situation. Your best friend and fuck buddy of 2 years giving you weekly Korean lessons.

And this? This was a normal thing between you both. Sitting in his lap practicing while he sits there explaining things and kneading your thighs mindlessly. It was a normal occurrence! The only difference is you usually wore sweats or some sort of bottom that would cover your legs more. Today was one of the hotter days of the week, so you disregarded the extras and opted to only wear one of his shirts, nothing else.

His hands rubbed eagerly up and down your thighs, squeezing the flesh like he does with soft pillows. Again, it was normal, but today he seemed to be restless with his movements. You couldn’t help but let out a shaky breath when he mindlessly squeezed the flesh of your inner thigh rather roughly while he translated a word you couldn’t figure out. “What is up with you today? You’re more touchy-feely than usual.”

“Sorry haha. Had a long day so I’m fidgety.. And you know I can’t resist you in nothing but my shirt.” You only hummed in response. You believed what he said, but you also knew that he wasn’t stupid and that the apology was not for his roughness as much as it was for how riled up he knew you were getting. He was never actually sorry about being physically affectionate with you, but you both knew how you tended to get very horny when his hands were on you so desperately.

“Mmmm.. Let me play with you a little while you read, okay?” You shake your head and push your study items away, pulling a laugh from him when you mumbled out ‘Fuck that, I need you.’

“None of that hahaha. Focus on the reading, honey.” He said, placing a kiss on your cheek before leaning down and biting into your neck. You groaned and leaned back into him, grinding against him in an attempt to make him fold in your favor. He let the first few grinds pass as he left hickeys along your neck, but the second your hands cupped him through his shorts he grabbed your hips to still your movements.

“Hey.“ The commanding tone in his voice caught you off guard and had your hands immediately stop in their tracks. “Stop that. You’re going to finish reading this text and then I’ll fuck you nice and good.”

“It’s not that serious, Chris. It's just a few paragraphs, we can do it after or just skip out this week.. Plus it’s your fault I’m this horny anyways.” The attitude in your voice makes him narrow his eyes, and then he grabs your chin and angles you to look back at him.

“Watch your tone. And I’m not gonna tell you again,” His hand grabbed both of yours and placed them on the table before moving to spread your legs open for him. Then, he finishes his sentence and enunciates each word with a harsh smack to your bare cunt. “Finish. Reading. The. Article.” The last one comes off harder than the others and it pulls a squeal from you, making your hands shoot down and wrap around his wrist while your legs slam shut against his hand. He grabs from your inner knee and hooks your legs over his, keeping you spread for him, and he pulls your book closer again.

You can feel the teasing smile on his face after he places a kiss on your cheek and then speaks against it. “You only have one article left, honey. The quicker you read it, the quicker I can bend you over and fuck you into the table~” You can’t help but whine and nod. Once you look down at the material again, Chris’ hands that were previously rubbing your inner thigh move back to rub along your wet folds.

Then for what feels like the next hour, but was really just 20 long minutes, you slur out the words in front of you as best as you can. Chris’ left hand swapped between drawing circles into your clit and pinching your nipple, while his right hand shoved fingers against your walls. And every couple of minutes he would swap between kissing your neck to sucking hickeys into your collarbone. However, you weren’t allowed to cum and any time you mispronounced something or took too long to read a word, a stern slap was sent against your clit. As long as you continued to read well, he would pump 3 of his fingers in and out of you.

By the time you’re halfway through the material, your mind is foggy and you’re almost drooling on yourself from the constant edging. By the time you’re on the last sentence, your legs are shaking and you're slumped against him letting out quiet moans. Your neck and collarbone were so red from his incessant suckling, and you were desperate to get this over with. And then, when you finally finished, he stopped all movements to place a soft, congratulatory slap on your thigh and massaged your hips.

“Good girl… Now was that so hard?” With that, he hurriedly clears the desk before helping you stand and then standing himself. The chair you both rested on was kicked backwards and your whole world spun as he suddenly pinned you to the desk. You whined as his hand held a tight grip in your hair and pushed your face into the table. His free hand playfully squeezed and slapped at your ass a few times before you heard his shorts and boxers hit the floor.

You sighed out his name as he teased his tip through your folds, silently pleading with him to hurry it up. “Shhhhhh… ‘Atta girl. You did so well, baby. Now let me take care of you, yeah?”

He finally sunk in and nothing but low, whiny moans left your lips as you clenched around him. His free hand grabbed a handful of your ass, squeezing it in appreciation while he slowly sunk every inch he had to offer. Once he bottomed out he gave you only a little bit of time before his thrusts started, albeit slowly at first but quickly ramping up due to his own impatience. It doesn’t take long for him to change to an unforgiving and rougher pace, his hand still holding your head against the table.

“Fff-fuck.. Christopherrr-”

“Yeah yeah, baby. Daddy’s got you. ‘M nice and deep, just how you like it right?” You missed the way he smirked when you let out a desperate ‘Uh-huh’ in response, but you could feel the way it encouraged him when his hips slammed against yours with more eagerness. He keeps this pace up for a while until he feels you tighten around him, and then he changes to slow, deep thrusts that make your eyes roll into your skull.

The hand in your hair slides on top of yours on the desk, intertwining your fingers, and he leans forward to place his forehead between your shoulder blades, “Mmmm keep squeezing me, Honey. Fffuck, juuust like that..”

When you’re tipping over the edge, he places a kiss on your sweaty skin and moans against it. “That’s it, baby. Cum for me and I’ll fill you up just how you like it, okay?” You want to nod, but everything hits you at once so you can only cry out against your desk.

As your orgasm starts to fade into overstimulation, he fixes his posture and focuses on his hip movements. A squeaky moan falls from your lips as he suddenly bottoms out and the hold on your hip tightens. He threw his head back and bit his bottom lip as he came, attempting to muffle his whiney moans. He rides out his orgasm by sometimes pulling out and snapping his hips harshly against yours.

“Fuck… If that’s how we end the studying session from now on, I might consider this payment.” He jokes.

You let out a breathy laugh and he starts to pull out slowly, pushing you into the table as he did so. You take the moment to catch your breath when you realize he’s gone quiet and there’s the light feeling of breath on your thighs. Your head snaps back and you realize he was kneeling in order to watch his cum slide down your folds.

“Hey!” you whine and place a hand on his forehead, pushing his face away only for him to resist, so you use your feet to push him harder. He laughs at your embarrassment and stands up, pulling you to sit up as well and lifting the shirt off of you. He uses it to wipe you down before throwing it into your hamper and grabbing one of his spare shirts from your dresser. He steals a kiss before covering you in the shirt, then drags you to the living room to watch a tv show together.

You two spend the rest of the night on the couch, watching tv and relaxing in each other’s warmth. It’s no surprise when soft snores are heard and you look down to see his sleeping face squished into your chest. You huff out a laugh before you snuggle him closer. Then, your eyes get heavy until they inevitably close, and you fall asleep too.

Taglist:

@jiminssluttyminx @changisworld @juskz @linohumina

#sian’s writing #skz smut #stray kids smut #stray kids x reader #stray kids imagines #bang chan smut #bang chan x reader #bang chan x reader smut #bang chan imagines #chan smut #chan x reader #chan x reader smut #chan imagines #skz x reader #skz x reader smut

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anisespice · 4 months

Text

“ the fuck-it list ” || hq! pt. 4

one || two || three

synopsis: there’s a list going around consisting of hot guys on campus that are deemed “fuckable” with theories as to what they’d be like in bed. it’s all fun and games until somehow your boyfriend ends up on this list.

pairing: seijoh4 x gn!reader [ oikawa, iwaizumi, mattsun, maki ]

warnings: mature content. MDI. cursing, suggestive language, mild objectification, the word “dick” said over a million times lol this chapter is basically bigdick!4 supremacy, corny behavior, camboy!maki, slight mentions of degradation, iwa’s is the shortest (I’M SORRY), some minor errors probably and i think that’s it :] !!

notes: I AM SO SORRY FOR THE WAIT :'))) life was kicking my ass and the last thing i could think about was getting metaphorically dicked down lol but hope you enjoy, thank y'all so much for your patience, and the last couple parts coming soon!

tagged: @daedaep69 , @ahahadumbo , @viktoryn , @mdsb , @ourgoddessathena , @ushygushybaby , @hyori2 , @lumpywolf , @fantasycantasy, @captaincyberqueen , @tsukiran

OIKAWA would be the reason the list even exists, let’s be honest.

But, for the sake of the plot, we’ll pretend otherwise.

Once again, without fail, after another grand win for the great king, he’s swarmed by his devoted groupies—Shoving their phones, gifts, and themselves in his face hoping to catch even a sliver of his attention.

And once again, you stood on the sidelines, impatiently waiting for him to leave the spotlight; irked your soul sometimes.

It’s not that you were against him being praised or anything, even though his head was fat enough to begin with, you loved the admiration people had for him. But there’s a fine line between being a fan and being a straight-up weirdo.

And right now, they’re tap-dancing on that line something fierce.

“Tooru!~ will you sign right here?”

One pulled down the collar of her shirt, exposing more of her breasts that were pushed up damn-near to her chin whilst wearing a sultry smile. You caught a small glimpse of panic flash across his features before he covered it with a nervous laugh, eyes subtly shifting over to you as he replied. “..How 'bout a photo instead?”

Things went on like that for the next few minutes. Someone would even take it a step further by flat out asking for his number, or if he was single. They already knew the answer to that, it was the same every time, yet they continuously tried their luck as if someday, through the power of delusion and manifestation, his answer would miraculously change despite you always attending his practices and his games, wearing his spare jersey, holding his hand, shoving your tongue down his throat, didn’t matter—Them hoes were relentless.

But, so were you.

“Oh, Tooru!~ If you don’t wrap this up, you’ll be walking home!~” You sang, mirroring the tone of the girl from earlier. The semi-empty threat made the setter perk up like a hound, eyes wide as that same panic returned as well.

Although this time, he wasn’t so quick to play it off.

“U-Uh,” he squeaked, then immediately covered by clearing his throat. “Yes, uh, well, it’s been great chatting with you all tonight. Thank you again for your love and support for the team, it's always appreciated. I hope you’ll continue to cheer us and myself oninthefuture—WAIT! [____]-chan! Don’t leave, y’know my poor legs won’t survive the walk back! Baby, c'mon, wait up!”

Oikawa whined as he scrambled to catch up to your retreating form, no longer concerned with the crowd of disgruntled faces he left behind as they watched their object of affection slip away yet again. A small part of you wanted to turn back and stick your tongue out at them in petty victory, but you refrained. The sound of their great king pleading for your attention was satisfactory enough.

You barely made it outside before his long arms wrapped around your front, locking you to his chest as he leaned almost his entire weight on you. You could feel his heart thrumming against your head as he panted. Eventually, he huffed, no doubt pouting as he gently swayed you in his arms. “You’re mean.”

Keeping your gaze forward, you frowned. “And I have the right to be. You said you’d tell some of those ‘fans’ of yours to chill out—it’s getting way out of hand, Tooru. That one girl practically flashed her damn tits at you, and you gawked like a virgin.”

He chortled, incredulously, “I did not! She caught me off guard..!”

“And yet, you rewarded her with a photo instead of calling out her inappropriate behavior. Make it make sense.”

You attempted to shrug him off only for his hold to tighten, spinning you around to gaze at you with chocolate brown eyes resembling that of a puppy out in the rain—One of the unfair tactics of Tooru Oikawa to get back on your good side. You had full intent of ignoring him, standing your ground…but how could you possibly stay mad at that adorable face?

Easy. By not looking directly at it.

“Nuh uh. I don’t think so,” you gently pushed away the setter’s face, earning another whine in protest. “You’re not getting off the hook that easily. I’m really upset with you.”

“Buh I dinit do anyfing,” he said through smooshed lips.

“And that’s the problem. You need to set boundaries with them, Tooru. Things’ll only continue to get out of hand the longer you enable it. Next thing you know they’re clawing and biting at your flesh so they can take a piece of you home with them under their nails and in their teeth.”

Oikawa grimaced, leaning back. “Ew. Graphic. They’re fans, baby, not rabid animals. I think you may be exaggerating.”

You cocked a brow. “Am I now? Well. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

—

The team had never seen their captain move so fast in their entire season. This was the first time he’d just straight up avoided his entourage and head straight for the showers after practice, scurrying off like his ass was on fire. Questions would spark around the gym about this drastic shift in behavior.

“What’s his deal?” One player voiced. “Usually he sticks around at least another hour to entertain his cult.”

“Not sure. After our last game, he’s been skittish.” Another replied.

A third jumped in after taking a swig of his water. “Think it’s got something to do with that..thing we saw the other night?”

The small group thought back to when all of their phones went off at the same time, social medias in a frenzy about their very own star player. At first glance, they figured it was just highlights of their game, specifically highlighting Oikawa. But, upon further inspection…it was something else entirely.

'Tooru Oikawa. 6’3ft King of the Court, and also our hearts. Being notoriously known as the campus pretty boy, loved by many and envied by the rest, it wouldn’t be far-fetched to consider him the blueprint—The default setting of everyone’s wet dream. He’s a tall, talented, smooth-talker with playful eyes and a panty-dropping smile, a textbook definition of ‘Prince Charming’. Everybody and they mama, daddy, even bald-headed granny would kill to jump this man’s bones. Many would see him as the romantic type, but there’s something more…unhinged hidden beneath the pretty-boy persona. After much debate, our beloved setter is to be dubbed a whole SWITCH, no nintendo. At first he’ll play the dominant role, but edge him long enough and you’ll bring the Great King to his knees, quivering, drooling, you name it. He’s shameless. 9.5/10 - half a point deducted for his inferiority/superiority complex. Get some therapy, babe. ♡’

They didn’t think much of it at the time, when it came to their attention whore of a captain, it wasn’t completely unexpected, especially if his groupies had anything to do with it. The players looked at one another, then back at the gaggle of hormones waiting for the brunette in question by the doors. It was unanimous.

“Yep.” “Uh-huh.”

The third player snorts. “‘bout time it sucked to be him for once.”

When Oikawa eventually exited the locker room, he did everything in his power to appear small, tip-toeing across the floor with his head down and shoulders hunched in crouching tiger-like fashion. He would’ve gotten away scott-free…if not for his petty teammates.

“See ya tomorrow, captain!”

It bounced off the gym walls, the setter grimacing as his devoted followers instantly looked in his direction, predatory gazes stunning him like a deer caught in headlights. Oikawa shot the players a nasty glare over his shoulder, flipping them off and continuing for the exit. He attempted to stiff-arm his way through the hoard, ducking and dodging their grabby hands and shutting down their…bolder advances.

“Tooru-chan!~ Let me show you what I’m capable of, I’ll have you begging in no time, just say the word!~”

“Unhinged men are so my type—Step on me, spit on me, call me names until I cry, I want it all!~”

“I bet it’s bubblegum pink, right? Does it curve to the left or right?”

Oikawa blanched. “Ladies, please, this is ridiculous! You all know I’m in a relationship with-”

“They don’t have to know.”

One had tried reaching out to touch him, but was quickly thwarted when the setter grabbed her wrist. Not tight enough to hurt, but enough to get the message across—Too far. Everyone came to a hush at the sudden display, cowering slightly at the intensity that pooled in his eyes, dark and cold as he fixed the whole group with a stern expression. You were right (obviously). Things escalated the second they were given an inch, with complete disregard to his boundaries and what you meant to him.

These weren’t fans. Not real ones, at least.

Oikawa deeply exhaled through his nose, calming himself down to keep from saying something he’d regret. Releasing the girl’s wrist, the setter gently moved her out of his personal space, resadjusting his bag and sporting a rather disinterested expression.

“It appears you all have misunderstood your place. I’ll forgive that disgusting comment only once. But, if this obscene, rude, and down right shameful behavior continues, I’ll have no choice but to inform the coach of your harassment and have you banned from future practices and games. Do I make myself clear?”

When you arrived to pick up Oikawa per usual, you were surprised to see that he was already waiting for you, not a single group ie in sight.

Skeptical, you looked around as you approached him, thinking those buzzards were still in listening distance, just waiting to pounce. But, when all you’re welcomed with was a big hug and kiss, you relaxed. Oikawa pulled back and gave you a sheepish smile. He explained everything that had happened, rubbing his the back of his neck in embarrassment. When he finished, he looked down at you with those same puppy eyes he gave you the other day.

“Please don’t say I told you so?”

You cooed, reaching up to fiddle with his hair at his nape. He leaned into your touch, content. Until you said, “I told you so.”

He frowned. “You’re MEAN.”

Once IWAIZUMI learned it involved Oikawa in any way, that’s all he needed to know to have no interest in the list. Sort of like Sakusa, if the topic gets brought up, he finds himself tuning out. The last thing he needed was to get dragged into whatever mess his dumbass best friend got himself involved with. But, unfortunately for him, one doesn’t simply choose to be on the list…the list chooses you.

And one afternoon, the former ace was the unlucky winner.

‘Hajime Iwaizumi. 5’10ft hunk made of pure Husband Material. We’re talking the man who’ll open doors for you, pull out chairs, hold your bags without fuss, give you massages, cook you hearty meals, the whole nine yards. With that information in mind, you can’t tell me he’s not an absolute DOG in the bedroom. I’m talking about a man who’ll bully your insides, manhandle you and call you his “favorite cocksleave” or his “pretty little whore”. He’s the type to say the nastiest shit in your ear and tease you for the cute reactions you’d give him before shoving his tongue down your throat, while his dick kisses your appendix. Definitely a Hard Dom who only rewards good behavior, so if you plan to be a brat to this man—Good luck. But, as soon as he’s fucked that attitude outta you he’s back to being such a sweetheart! So so so attentive, so devoted, and will do anything for you. He’s God’s favorite. 1000000/10.’

“Oh? .. Hey, babe.” You said, curiously. Iwa grunted in response. “You know that list thingy Oikawa-?”

“Nope.” He easily answered, eyes focused ahead and he continued bench pressing the heavy bar.

You slap his chest. “You didn’t even let me finish!” He responded with a playful smirk, making you lightly slap him again.

Straddling his lap while he pumped iron was routine. It consisted of him doing what he does and you keeping him company, soaking up his presence until you inevitably left for your next lecture. Sometimes you kept count for him, other times you’d happily just be a distraction; today you did both.

“Haji,” you whined, wiggling a little. He ignored you on purpose, stubbornly refusing to indulge the topic. But that didn’t deter you from pestering him. “Ha-ji-me!”

“Ba-by-doll,” he echoed, grunting shortly after when he placed the heavy weight back on the rack, finished with the set. Panting, he sat up and readjusted you in his lap, hands resting on your thighs as he finally looked at you, amused at your scowl. “I don’t get why you’re so interested in that shitty list.”

“I’m not…until now.”

“Why?”

Turning your phone screen to show him the updated post, Iwa’s eyes scanned it before his brows furrowed in confusion, then tightened with irritation, jaw clenched and annoyance clear on his face. He let out a heavy sigh, closing his eyes to unsee it and merely laying back down on the bench. “Block them.”

You gaped. “What? No way!”

“It’s nothing but perverts with too much time on their hands,” he grunted, lifting up the bar and beginning his set. “It’ll rot your brain. Or what’s left of it, anyways.”

With a dramatic gasp, you retorted with, “Jerk. I’ll retweet and tell them you also love sucking on toes, how ‘bout that?”

Iwa paused mid-push. He eyed you from his laying position, voice dangerously low as he said, “Try it and I’ll bench press you next.”

“Hm.”

Through squinted eyes, MATTSUN briefly scanned the bright screen of Maki’s phone displaying the updated post that started circulating around their group for the past few minutes. Without much reaction, one would think he was too buzzed to be able to even comprehend it.

But he understood all too well.

‘Issei Matsukawa. 6’2ft lazy ass with a third leg. Doesn’t matter if he looks like he uses 5-and-1 body wash, he smells DELECTABLE. And don’t get me started on the gray, low-hanging joggers he usually wears around campus—He needs to be arrested walking around with a concealed weapon in those sweats—sir, put it in me AWAY. The literal embodiment of “If it slaps his thigh when he walk, I’ll listen when he talk.” The ultimate brat-tamer tbh. You can’t get under his skin, he’s so nonchalant and laid back, your attitude would just be foreplay for him (HIS FREAKY ASS). And if you think he’s already big on soft??? Bitch. Gon head and call outta work for tomorrow. 50/10.’

“Uh..congrats?” Kindaichi gave an awkward thumbs up.

Maki snickered, tongue in cheek. “Yeah, man, how’s it feel being ‘dick of the week’? They’re even givin’ it nicknames ‘nd shit.” He scrolled further into the depths of debauchery. Peering from over his shoulder to see for himself, Kunimi‘s face scrunched in mild disgust.

“Someone called it ‘The Door-Knocker’? Fucking cringe.”

“Fucking retweet.” The strawberry blonde hummed in approval. “Oo, I like this one—‘The Punisher’. That’s badass.”

Yahaba snickered only to then start choking on his drink, snatching Kyotani by the front of his shirt for support as he hacked for air. The wing-spiker merely glared, winding his hand back to beat the shit out of his back. ��Ack! Kyo—fuc-! BRO STOP.”

“I’m helping.”

“You’re killing me!”

“Same thing,” he grunted.

Mattsun snorted, taking another swig of beer. After skimming through the thread, he lowly drawled out, “Cool, I guess. No big deal.”

He didn’t know much about the list, only that if you ended up on it you were pretty much an ace in the game of dick-slanging. But, he didn’t need some thirsty randoms on the internet telling him that he fucks. He had you to attest to all that, and your opinion was the only one that truly mattered. Not that either of you would kiss and tell.

His friends, on the other hand, felt otherwise. As far as they were concerned, Mattsun was a single man. And right now, he was shitting on a blessing sent from the gods. Maki halted his sip to eye his best friend, beer can lowering suspiciously. “No big deal?”

Mattsun shrugged. “t’s what I said.”

Yahaba finally caught his breath, chiming in with a winded, “Yeah right…you’re probably itching to check your DMs. Tell me ‘m wrong.”

“Ok. You’re wrong,” he replied, chugging the remainder of his beer can before crushing it. Yahaba went to argue, but Mattsun cut him off by speaking through a burp. “Don’t got the energy…to entertain someone who just wants my dick.”

“Don’t you mean, ‘Door-knocker’?” Kunimi teased.

“I thought it was ‘The Punisher’..?” Watari asked, uncertain.

“I saw ‘Horse Cock’ on there.” Kindaichi grimaced.

Mattsun shook his head. “Whatever. Point is, ‘m not interested in racking up my body count anytime soon, so those DMs will just go unanswered. Hell, maybe even deleted.”

“Bullshit,” Maki challenged. He points an accusing finger. “There’s another reason. It’s ‘cause you’re already screwing around with someone, aren’t ya?”

A silence fell upon the group, all eyes instantly honing in on the taller male with metaphorical ears raised high in scandalized curiosity, some (read: Kindaichi and Yahaba) more obvious about it than others. Mattsun merely gave a halfhearted shrug, neither denying nor confirming the information. “Aha! See, see, look at ‘em, dodging the question! He’s so cuffed.”

“No shot,” Yahaba deadpanned, “mister ‘Noncommittal’ himself?”

Mattsun glared. “Oi. I commit to stuff.”

“He’s gettin’ defensive.” Kunimi pointed out with a wry grin.

“Must be true, then.” Kyotani nodded, mischievous glint in his eye.

The others hummed in agreement, theorizing about his type in partners and how there could be a potential special someone in their senior’s life, while the bastard behind it all watched smugly on the couch, sipping his drink like a gossiping old biddy. Mattsun squinted in annoyance at his best friend. “Et tu, dumbass?”

Maki raised his hands, “Hey, don’t get mad at me. You basically told on yourself. No guy in their right mind would ever pass up on that many opportunities unless he’s A) Stupid, B) Aro/Ace, or C) Spoken for. Now, my vote’s between A and C, but feel free to update me on your sexual orientation.”

Mattsun flipped him off, sporting a sarcastic expression.

His phone then began to vibrate on the table. As quickly as they looked at the former middle blocker, everyone’s gaze shot toward the offending device, then back on him; expectantly. Despite his calm exterior the brunette felt his heart-rate spike, brow twitching at the childish looks and jeers he started getting, borderline peer-pressuring him to pick it up.

After a few seconds of continuous ringing, Kunimi huffed in mild annoyance for him to, “Answer it, already.”

Maki added fuel to fire by saying, “Unless you want one of us to answer for you-” Mattsun snatched the phone off the table.

With the grace of a gorilla, he stood from the couch and quickly shuffled to the corner of the room. Answering it, he cleared his throat, face flushing at the chorus of snickers coming from behind him as he greeted you with a simple, but elated, “Hey.”

“Hey, ‘sei!”

“Hey,” he said again, breathing out a small chuckle. “Can’t sleep?”

You responded with your own chuckle. “Yeah, actually. I was wondering if you’d wanna maybe…ride around with me? I’m thinking McDonald’s. Oo! Or that wing place by campus, y’know, the one with the teriyaki flavor you liked? I think they don’t close until, like, 2am. Or…was it 1am?”

Mattsun snorted at your rambles, leaning against the wall as he let you continue. Unbeknownst to him, the guys were practically stacked on top of each other, stretching their ears to hear your voice. From what they could pick up, you sounded so upbeat, animated as you spoke. They watched in awe as their senior barely spoke but was engaged in whatever you were saying, nodding along and humming to let you know he was still listening. If he wasn’t faced the other way, they were certain they’d see a smitten expression on his face.

“Mhm.. mhm. Yeah, ‘m sure that squirrel really appreciated you sharing your almonds, baby.”

“BABY???” The group exclaimed.

The brunette jumped slightly, completely forgetting where he was for a moment there. He briefly looked over his shoulder before turning back towards the wall with a groan—Every single one of those bastards were either grinning or gaping in shock. Mattsun cursed under his breath. You made a noise of confusion.

“Are you with the guys? I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt! We can totally chill another night if you-”

“Nah, was just about to leave. Think I’ve entertained these assholes long enough.” He grumbled, walking over to grab his jacket, but not before thumping Maki on the head; the latter hissed through his teeth in pain as he held the throbbing spot. “Rather be with you anyways. I’ll send the address, lemme know when you’re outside.”

“O-Oh, okay then!” You giggled, flattered. “I’ll see you soon. Love you!”

He turned back to look at the group, smug as they still watched him with disbelief painted on their faces as Mr. Non-committal was ditching them to hang with his commitment. Like he tried to tell them before, he didn’t need some thirsty randoms on the internet. He had you, and that’s more than enough.

“Love you too, [_____].” Then, he walks out. Leaving the room in even more chaos compared to when he first answered the phone, immediately on his ass as the scrambled after him for answers.

“[______]?????”

Who would’ve guessed their sweet, beloved volleyball manager from high school was the one getting visits from “The Punisher”.

Within his inner circle, MAKI is usually overlooked. He’s not popular like Oikawa, nor jacked like Iwa, and he’s doesn’t have the whole ‘sexy aloof’ vibe like Mattsun. He’s just…tall. And funny—The ‘Pete Davidson’ of the group. At least, that’s what your friends called him. Somehow, once again during your outing with them at the mall the topic of your relationship became the focal point of the conversation, stretching their brains for why you were so enamored with a guy like him.

“He gotta be packin’. Like, I’m talking anaconda.”

“Type shit. Y’know what they say about them tall and skinny ones.”

You rolled your eyes, wry smirk spreading across your face as you busied yourself sifting through a clothes rack. The conspiratorial discussion had been going on for the past ten minutes, throwing anything and everything at the wall until something stuck—Meaning, waiting for you to confirm. “[_____]. Be honest. It’s ‘cause of his dick, right?”

A lady standing on the other side of the rack gasped in shock, face twisting up in revulsion as she clutched her purse before stomping away, scandalized. You snorted, peeking over your shoulder to raise an eyebrow at them while they struggled to suppress their childish merriment at the poor woman’s embarrassment.

“Quit it before they kick us out.” You attempted to sound stern, but there was no hiding your own amusement. One friend playfully nudged you while the other began to snicker. “And no, it’s not because of that. It’s a bonus, though.”

The first gasped, then exclaimed, “So it is big!”

“’m not finna start with you,” you replied looking back at the clothes, pretending not to know them as nearby customers gave the side-eye. Neither one paid any mind as they continued to gossip. “We have this conversation every time we go out. Give it a rest.”

“Not until you tell us what you see in him.”

“I mean, I get it, but then I look at his friends and…” she hissed through her teeth, shaking her head. “I’m just saying. You fumbled.”

“I’m not taking that from someone who slept with a door dasher just because they got the restaurant to put extra sauce in your bag.”

The guilty party gaped, “It wasn’t included in their instructions, they were a real one for that!”

“Still don’t know why you did it,” the other friend sighed. “The food was cold, and I’m certain they took some of my fries.”

“Shut up, we’re not talking about my poor life choices, we’re talking about [_____]’s.”

“Fuck you,” you laughed. “You two need to get off my man. You haven’t even properly met him yet. He’s a sweetheart, he treats me like royalty, and I don’t care what y’all say, that man is fine.”

“Please. You’re just dickmatized.”

“Enough about his dick already!”

Your outburst drew the attention of a nearby employee; the store manager. Even though she wore a professional smile, you could see death in her eyes. With a nervous smile, you gave an apologetic wave before quickly grabbing your friends by their arms and escorting yourselves out before you got banned. Your closet was getting full, anyways.

“Look…I know the guys I’ve dated in the past were…questionable. But, I really like this one. And I swear the pictures I showed you don’t do him justice, his goofy ass just never sits still.”

They looked skeptical, having heard that one before. You huffed.

“Alright. How about I invite him over tonight? That way you have a chance to get to know him better. And if you’re still iffy, then…then you’ll have to get over it because you love me dearly and want me to be happy and just because you don’t think he’s attractive doesn’t mean I don’t, he is very gorgeous to me-!”

“[_____], honey, breathe.”

You stopped to inhale, then concluded with a small, “Please?”

They exchanged another look of skepticism, until the second added one condition. “He better not show up empty-handed.”

—

When the doorbell rang, the mood instantly shifted in the room, your friends going silent and gazes sharp as they looked at your door. Unbeknownst to all of you, on the other side of the door, Maki shivered, confused where that sudden chill came from. You gave them an eager, though strained, smile before scampering over to greet your awaiting guest. Upon opening the door, your smile slowly dropped at the sight of Maki sipping out of a large styrofoam cup with the words 'Big Gulp' written on it, dressed casually in sweats and a beanie, appearing very empty-handed.

After he swallowed, he gave a drawled, "Yo."

Your eye twitched. "Takehiro." He hummed, taking another sip of his drink. "Remember that important thing we discussed over the phone? Literally the only thing I asked you not to be when you got here?"

He thought about it, taking note of the daggers you were shooting at his cup. Maki made a noise of realization. "Oh, right. I bought snacks too, buuut I accidentally ate ‘em all on the way. My bad. But, look," he shook the cup, "technically still not empty-handed."

A small part of you wanted to be mad, frustrated at the least...but there was no hiding the giggle you rewarded him with, of which turned into more giggles. With sigh, you stepped forward to wrap your arms around his middle in a hug. "You’re so dumb."

"Missed you, too." He playfully rolled his eyes, returning the hug and craning his neck to kiss your forehead. The two of you stood there for a moment, just basking in each other's warmth. But, the moment was short-lived when he gave a long, exaggerated exhale through his nose before murmuring, "Ready?"

"...No." You groaned.

"Damn, do they bite or something?"

"No, they’re just...unfiltered. I love them, don't get me wrong, but they can work on your nerves to an olympic degree. You'll see once we get inside...They're gonna ask about your dick, by the way. Just ignore it."

Maki snorted, bewildered. "I'll try my best."

"Also...try not to mention that...other thing."

"What other thing?"

"You know," you raised your brows, looking over your shoulder in case they were eavesdropping before softly continuing, "that post."

It took a second, but he eventually caught on to what you meant.

‘Takehiro Hanamaki. 6’0ft shameless manslut (affectionately) who’s taken the campus by storm with his rather...interesting side hobby that pretty much has every student reaching for their wallets and switching to incognito mode on their browsers. Who would’ve guessed that lanky, low-eyed beanpole had the talent to film such erotic content and put a whole industry to shame with just his smartphone and a couple LED lights? After getting past the paywall and binging his videos (for research) it’s safe to say this man is very much a power bottom, maybe even a top depending on his mood, with a fowl mouth that’s not afraid to moan like a porn star. Best $200 I’ve ever spent (FOR RESEARCH). Highly recommend if you’re interested in having the best guided orgasm of your life—Link is in the thread! Get that bag, king. 10/10.’

A shit-eating grin stretched across his face instantly. He bounced his eyebrows, leaning down to teasingly say, "Ohh. That post. What? Don't want 'em to know how I make my living? Or, you scared they'll find out you're my number one supporter, always touching themselves just behind the camera-"

"Hiro!" You hissed, face set ablaze as you looked over your shoulder again, anxious. He found your reaction cute, using the straw in his cup to poke your cheek. You huffed at him. "I don't want them to pry. I doubt they've seen it since they go to a different uni, and I'd like to keep it that way. Okay?"

He easily shrugged. “You’re the boss.”

You exhaled, relieved. “Thank you.” You turned to head back inside, knowing your friends were just itching to bombard Maki, however you were stopped when he grabbed your arm.

“But.”

“…But?”

“I’ll let the dick-related questions slide and keep my side hustle under wraps, but you have to do something for me in exchange for my good behavior.”

You tilted your head, nervous. “Like what?”

His grinned mischievously, eyes half-mast as he used his free hand to hold your jaw, making you gasp softly when he tilted your head back. “Instead of being behind the camera in my next video…my number one supporter has to be the star.”

You rapidly blinked, heat traveling throughout your body once you registered his words. Fumbling over your own, you didn’t have time to protest when the door behind you opens wide, revealing your impatient friends. Maki let go of your jaw and settled for wrapping his arm around your shoulder, pulling you close as he waved at them with the hand that still had the large cup in it.

“‘sup.” He flashed them a sly grin. Maki took in their shocked faces, hoping they were a good sign as he introduced himself. “[_____]’s told me a lot about you guys. Hope you didn’t mind me crashing your get together.”

They absolutely did not mind.

You weren’t lying—Those pictures you showed did him dirty. Nothing could’ve prepared them for the uno reverse that was Takehiro Hanamaki. From his lax posture and cozy demeanor, sleepers build and cute smile, it’s no wonder you were drawn to him. Plus he’s funny with a big dick (allegedly)?????

After you composed yourself, still reeling from your conversation earlier, you eventually mustered up a triumphant smile at your friends as they gaped up at Maki, speechless. “So? You guys still think I fumbled?”

#🍁wasabi #SEIJOH 4 FOR 4 #WITH A LARGE FRY AND DRINK PLS #hq #hq!#hq smut #hq scenarios #hq x reader #haikyuu #haikyuu smut #haikyuu scenarios #oikawa tooru #iwaizumi hajime #matsukawa issei #hanamaki takahiro #the fuck-it list

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awrkive · 2 months

Text

NEIGHBOR BLUNDER, pt. 2 — JJK (m.)

in hindsight, you should have seen it coming. had always known your luck – or lack of it, thereof – and the universe's meticulous plan of your downfall made it easy for you to get tangled up in a series of unfortunate events, which presents itself as the neighbor that lives across from you, jeon jungkook.

PAIRING jungkook x (fem) reader

GENRE r18+ (fluff, angst, smut) MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

CHAPTER WORD COUNT 22.5k

CHAPTER WARNINGS/MISC neighbor!jk, bsf!jimin, accountant!oc software engineer!jk, jk and jimin are chaebols lol, minjoon boyfriends <<<<3, mature language, lots of screaming into your pillow moments FLUFFY FLUFF FLUFFFFFFFFFFFFF, lovely hot nerdy jk ): (i think i speak for all women when i say that nerdy jungkook is the best jungkook say I IF U AGREE),[explicit sexual content: masturbation (f)], has the budding romance finally hit the second towers? read more to find out

NOTES hey everyone thank you so much for the overwhelming support on this silly little fic. i hope you guys enjoy this update and let me know your thoughts in the replies/reblog section and in my inbox, wherever you prefer hehe <3

NB!JK VISUALS | TAGLIST OPEN

READ ON WATTPAD | AO3

PART ONE | TWO | THREE

You usually finish prepping for the office at around 7:40 am, just enough time left to walk to the station and catch your bus at exactly 8 am.

As of now, it's 7 but the clock's longer hand has moved past the 40-minute mark, and you are still in your living room, supposedly all done and ready to go – except that you're stuck on the floor looking at your laptop perched on your coffee table, staring at it blankly, the HR email looking right back at you; almost daunting.

Subject: Invitation to Ceremony: Announcement of Interim CTO Dear Blue Nexus Inc. employee, We hope this email finds you well. We would like to inform you that a ceremony has been scheduled on July 29, 2028, 10:00 am at the AVR Hall 5, 12th floor. The purpose of this event is to announce the appointment of our interim Chief Technology Officer (CTO), Mr. Jeon Jungkook. As you may be aware, our previous CTO, Mr. Shin Juman, is currently on medical leave recovering from a stroke. While he is recuperating and undergoing treatment, it has become necessary for us to appoint an interim CTO for an indefinite period of time to ensure the continuity and effectiveness of our operations. Your presence at this meeting is highly valued as we introduce the new leadership to the team and outline our strategic direction moving forward. Light refreshments will be served. Thank you for your attention to this matter. We look forward to seeing you at the ceremony. Best regards, HR Department

You've been reading it over and over again you're sure you can recite it with ease if prompted. It's in the hopes that the name Jeon Jungkook will suddenly disappear somewhere in the email – that maybe you missed some detail, and it doesn't actually mention his name at all. You read the email repeatedly wishing that it is just a glitch in the system and what you found out about yesterday are all just a part of your extreme delusion. Maybe it's one of those nights with Jimin at his apartment where you would indulge in a little bit of guilty pressure – pots, to be exact – and just let it take you to a whole new world.

But you and Jimin didn't go home together last night, and you definitely did not smoke pot. He went straight to the airport and you straight home with nothing but mixed feelings inside, and you were more than thankful that Jimin was in a bout of panic himself about not getting there on time that he didn't notice you squirming in his passenger seat.

There is a vague memory in your head with him telling you he was going to come with Namjoon, but you can't be for sure. Everything that transpired that night is all reduced down to the very moment in the comfort room when you realized the glaring information about Jungkook being three eggs in your basket: first, he's Jimin's cousin. Second, he's an executive in your company – a CTO, to be exact – and while you aren't exactly working under his department and they are all the way up ten floors above you, he's still technically your boss according to the hierarchy. The son of the CEO of the very company you are working at. Not only is he the CTO, but third he's also your neighbor. Someone you've met weeks ago whom you may have developed a growing relationship with that will now possibly be bleak in a matter of hours or days depending on if you are going to tell him or if he finds out.

That is the thing that you're currently debating with yourself about as you let your eyes glide over the unsuspecting email from HR for the nth time.

7:50 am – the clock on your screen reads.

You think about the dock pay that you're gonna get if you come to work late. At this point, you can run to the station and still catch your bus, but you have to decide in a minute for that to be possible.

Groaning, you feel defeated as you shut your laptop close and stand up from the floorboards, your eyes going over to the door across from you which earns yourself a wince.

I'm gonna get a dock pay and it will all be Jungkook's fault. That jerk.

Okay – obviously, he's far from a jerk and he has nothing to do with any of this. You just like blaming anybody.

You sigh, grabbing your bag, finally making up your mind to just go and see for yourself what today has to offer you. A little optimism, if you will. But if you manage to bump into Jungkook at that company you aren't sure if you're not going to do something embarrassing because one thing about you, you do not know how to face certain challenges in life like a matured individual – you always have to be a little overboard and overdramatic with it.

You were heading towards the door when you suddenly remember your ID.

Your ID. Funny.

As you pick it up off the coffee table, you think about how you don't really wear it on the way to work and on your way home. You don't like the feeling of the lanyard wrapping around the skin of your nape, so you've always just worn it when you're in the office where it is mandatory. Otherwise, you make sure to take it off.

Suddenly, you think about a scenario where you're the kind of employee to wear their ID all the time, and those nights where you'd go to Midday straight from work to have dinner with Jungkook would've turned out differently because then if you were to have worn your ID during one of those meetings, he would've figured out that you're working at the same company. And maybe... the conversation about his relation to Jimin would've came up.

And maybe, you won't feel so... complicated about the whole thing.

How – in the two weeks that you've spent with him – do you know too much yet so little about him? How did you ever not ask each other where you work and how did this all come to you like a landslide and now you have no way out?

God's sake, you know about his dog, and you've exchanged numbers... and yet...

Although, granted, maybe you should've asked for each other's socials? Does he have Instagram? Twitter? Maybe if you had exchanged those sooner, you would've gotten to know him more and made the connections you only recently found out.

You want so badly to reach out to Jimin to talk to him about all of this. But he hasn't really contacted you since he sent off Namjoon to the airport. Maybe he really did leave with him, and it isn't just your imagination when he said something about going there last night when you sneaked out of the party.

But deep inside... you do not really want to talk to him about any of this, at all.

It is, to simply put, awkward.

You feel ashamed for gushing about your neighbor that is apparently the same person as his cousin. Feel embarrassed about how you ogled over him to Jimin when in fact, they're related. You don't know about other people, but you know the unspoken rule about not dating your friends' relatives? Not like you're dating Jungkook, but you have a crush on him for fuck's sake. The strings do not even stop at their blood relation because it extends to your workplace as well.

You know Jimin well enough to feel confident about not getting judged by him if you were to tell him about it, and if he actually does, he will directly say it to your face as far as you're concerned. But...

It's just all too awkward to tell anyone about. You're in too deep in the sea of embarrassment and shame you cannot think of ways to get out of it.

Your head is starting to hurt, and you know it's the sign to stop thinking. So, you shut up all the voices in your head and walk towards the door ready to go out, telling yourself that whatever happened, you're going to handle everything cooly like the grown woman you are.

Stepping outside the threshold of your apartment, you're just about to turn around to lock the door on your way out when suddenly, the door across yours opens and there welcomes you the man starring in your list of problems for the day: Jeon Jungkook, your neighbor Unit 446.

"Oh, hi. Good morning—"

You turn on your heel so quickly and open the door to your apartment so fast it's almost at the speed of light, entering your apartment once again and slamming the door closed, pressing your back on it as your eyes widen; heart beating at a staccato of thug, thug, thug as you take a moment to hold your breath.

What the fuck.

How in the hell is this the first time you see each other getting ready to work? It couldn't have happened in the first week you knew him or hell, the first day?! Why must you have bumped into him like that the moment you finally knew about who he is? Everything is getting way too ridiculous. It's like the universe is telling you once again that you'll always be her middle child: unfavorable by all ends.

"Shit." You hiss, biting your lip quite harshly as you think about how you must've looked like a goddamn fool turning on him like that for no reason. Jungkook must've been weirded the hell out – and rightfully so.

You face-palm. Damn, you were just telling yourself you're gonna handle everything like a grown, matured woman.

You unconsciously walk on your tippy toes on the way to the small window on the side of the door that lets you oversee outside your door, peeking from there like a creep as you watch Jungkook, still on his porch – with his grey coat over his arm – looking down on his phone and doing something with it.

That something is apparently sending you a text.

Jungkook (Unit 446) [7:52am]: why did u seem like u just saw a ghost?

The message read when you open your phone at the bell of notification. You haven't even read all of it yet when another one comes in.

Jungkook (Unit 446) [7:52am]: am I that appalling in the mornings? Haha 🥴

On any occasion, you would've laughed and go along with the joke, but you do not know what to say to him.

You stand there doing nothing, just staring at his two consecutive messages, poorly left on read. You purse your lips as you peek from the small window again, getting a glimpse of Jungkook standing still on his porch, eyes glued to his phone. He waits for awhile, and then you see him shaking his head with a hint of... smile on his face?

And then your phone dings once again.

Jungkook (Unit 446) [7:53am]: good morning by the way. Get safely to work

You stare at it so hard that the next second you look at the window, he isn't there anymore.

Letting out a heavy breath, you knock your head on the door, thinking about how you missed your 8 am bus and you have to wait for 30 minutes for another one to come and most especially, how you're going to get a dock pay for being late.

It's almost as if Jungkook is running for higher office the way his face is plastered all over the LED screens inside the building, showing the announcement of his ceremony. It's taunting almost, the way it was the first thing you see when you swiped your ID for entry.

Although, you do find it funny that it's the same man you just saw in front of you when you stepped outside of your place earlier this morning.

"Sol," you call your co-worker and also your friend, sliding your swivel chair closer to her desk. "Do we really have to go to the ceremony?" You ask, seeing that everybody in the office is already setting aside the stuff on their desks to head out to the 12th floor where the announcement ceremony will be held.

Sol fixes the post-it note on her computer first before turning to you, "Of course we do."

You pout at that.

"Is Ms. Jung really gonna be mad if we don't attend?"

"You know how she has this obsession of making our department look good, so I'm assuming yes." She answers, and you slump in your seat knowing damn well she's right to think that. Sol sees your seemingly grumpy disposition and asks, "Why? You don't wanna go?"

If only she knew.

You shake your head to her question.

"I just think it's gonna be boring," you shrug, the lie rolling on your tongue seamlessly.

"Eh, at least it's less work for today. Those things run for two hours and there's free lunch so that's that."

Events like these are supposed to be advantageous for you because again, Sol is right and those things do run for about two hours meaning less workload. Also, free lunch. Who doesn't like free stuff? But then again, Jungkook is going to be there and with your luck, you're starting to think that you're going to see more of him from now on. That is just how the world works against you.

"You're right." You say, frowning becoming more and more apparent, you're sure.

Sol chuckles at you and stands up herself, fixing her dress as you follow her out of the office.

Before you could completely go out though, you stop her on her tracks.

"Hey, do you think you have a face mask I can borrow?" You say, looking hopefully at her. Sol raises her brows, obviously confused at your strange request. Clearing your throat, you pretend to cough a little in your fisted hand. "I'm feeling a little under the weather today, but I drank my meds this morning. Forgot the mask." You reason with her, adding more lies to the conversation.

"Oh, I see. Okay, I think I have it." Sol perks up at the realization and you both enter your office once again, with your co-worker digging through her desk's drawer for the mask you were asking her for.

She hands it to you as soon as she finds it and you're quick to wear it around your mouth, silently rejoicing in your head at the brilliant last-minute plan you came up with in your head in order to avoid anything with Jungkook later. Not that you expect him to do something if he, indeed, sees you – you doubt he even will, given that the hall is huge, and you are planning to sit all the way back – but the mask is just a precautionary measure so there are less chances of him recognizing you or anything crazy like that.

Together, Sol and you ride the elevator down to the 12th floor and unsurprisingly, a lot of the company's employees are already there, finding their seats, chitchats heard across the hall.

"Sol, __!" Joonhwi, one of your co-junior accountants and also a friend, calls out to you both, separating himself from the other accountants and heading to your direction. "You're sick?" He asks as soon as he sees your face covered with the mask.

"A little." You reply.

Joonhwi nods his head and then say, "I thought you girls were planning to ditch the ceremony."

"I'll do anything to not see your face but then again we work together so I have no choice." Sol snarkily remarks.

"Sol, can you please refrain from professing your love to me with all these people around?" Joonhwi retorts back, smarmy and teasing, ever the expert on how to get on Sol's nerves.

"__, can you get this khia away from me?"

You laugh at both of their exchange, shaking your head at their silly antics. You don't know if Sol is just... emotionally constipated, but damn, she sure is clueless as hell about Joonhwi's feelings. It seems like everybody from the accounting department knows except for her.

Shaking your head, you go straight to the seats available with Joonhwi and Sol sitting on opposite sides of you.

"Anyway, I heard they're appointing Mr. Jeon's son." Joonhwi suddenly say.

Now that makes you squirm.

"Really?" You utter, just to give them a reaction.

Sol looks at you weird. "I thought everybody knew that?"

"Well, there are lots of Jeons in Korea..." you tell her, earning a laugh from Joonhwi which makes Sol frown.

"A man is not allowed to laugh in my vicinity, Joonhwi, shut up," she says rolling her eyes. Her tone shifts when she speaks to you though, suddenly sounding more gossip-y as she shows you a picture on her phone. "Look at the material, though,"

You look at the photo of a man who very much has the same and exact coloring of the one and only Jeon Jungkook you know and you have to swallow the lump in your throat.

"I mean, I've always thought Mr. Jeon was a DILF but his son is – damn." She adds, zooming in on Jungkook's professional head shot.

You and Joonhwi both give her the stinky eye.

"Have some class." you tell her, earning a laugh from both of them.

"For the record, you agreed to that before." Sol points out, referring to that dinner you three had at a barbecue house awhile ago. For the record, though, you were both drunk and Joonhwi had to haul Sol's ass back to her place and call Jimin to get you to yours.

"I refuse to acknowledge anything I've ever said when I was drunk."

"Okay but is anybody getting the urge to get transferred to the IT department expeditiously?" Sol jokes, obviously swooning over Jungkook.

Joonhwi snorts. "The CTO doesn't even go there."

"Killjoy much?" Sol frowns at him. "He'd visit, though. Imagine the eye candy."

You eye her in a teasing manner, "You have enough candy on your plate, Sol." And then you subtly look over Joonhwi.

Joonhwi himself doesn't seem to expect the insinuation, but nonetheless you know that he got the message of you implying he's good-looking and if Sol is looking for that, he's just there. That is why he suddenly loses his smirk and rests his back on the seat, crossing his arms as he retires himself from the conversation, obviously dodging your teasing.

Psh. Emotionally constipated co-worker number two.

"What the hell does that mean?" Sol asks, but she can't get an answer as the ceremony begins.

"Good morning, everyone. Today marks a significant moment as we gather to appoint our interim Chief Technology Officer," The host starts the introduction, "We are here to acknowledge the pivotal role of the CTO in our company's journey to ensure continuity in our innovation efforts. It is with great pleasure that I introduce Mr. Jeon Jungkook, our interim CTO, who has been selected to step into the position."

And there is him, in his grey suit that you've seen him in earlier. He's wearing his glasses as well, the one that has the thinner frame. You notice he switches between two kinds; he wears the thick-framed one off work and the thin-framed one during work, like right now.

Jungkook smiles at the applause that reverberates all over the hall. There are LED screens that hang on both sides of the room and you can see his face clearly there. Sol gushes over how good he looks.

"Jesus, wow..." Sol whispers to herself, and you're sure she did not mean for you to hear that, so you try not to acknowledge it because deep inside, you agree with her. That's exactly your reaction when you saw him for the first time in the stairs of your apartment complex – and he didn't even clean up in his suit that time.

Jungkook stands on the podium with an easy-going smile on his face, his aura screaming confidence. He looks so sure of himself, like he's born to actually do this.

"Thank you, Mr. Park. Good day to all. I am deeply honored and humbled to accept the role of Chief Technology Officer at Blue Nexus Incorporation. As we navigate this interim period, my commitment is to uphold..."

You watch as he starts his speech, noting how well he speaks. You aren't a stranger to how people have different personalities when they are in and off work, but it's almost disorienting to see Jungkook going all professional, his voice soft but edgy at the same time, just enough for you and everyone to recognize a bit of authority in there.

He looks over the crowd, and for a brief second, you feel as if his eyes glossed over you far longer than he had other parts in the room.

But that thought dies down as quickly when he immediately goes back to speaking, and you're sure you just imagined it.

You're in the middle of your night routine when your phone suddenly dings.

Jungkook (Unit 446) [10:44pm]: just remembered we never really got around to that boxing machine, did we

Right. Today is Friday and you are supposed to go that boxing machine to determine if he's gonna supply your daily boba or if you're coming over to his place so he can cook you both a meal.

But that deal was made days ago when you still were clueless about his identity, and admittedly, you'd say that right now, you're doing anything to avoid him.

Scrolling through your message thread and seeing Jungkook's texts since that morning being left on read makes you feel bad. You know it isn't fair. It isn't nice to just suddenly go leave people dry like that, especially Jungkook who has been so strangely non-confronting about your sudden weird behavior.

It takes you a few minutes to give him a reply due to you erasing and retyping your message repeatedly.

You [10:47pm]: sorry ive been busy the whole day with work ):

Was what you lamely came up with. You couldn't have done better than that, to be honest with yourself.

Jungkook (Unit 446) [10:47pm]: I see Jungkook (Unit 446) [10:48pm]: so raincheck tonight?

You [10:48]: sorryyyy for cancellig im just feeling a little under the weather

Jungkook (Unit 446) [10:49pm]: ohhhh ok ok sorry for texting late

You [10:50pm]: asbdbsfjshf its fine!!!!!!!!

Maybe you didn't think it through, but you find yourself typing the next message and hitting send way too quickly.

You [10:51pm]: maybe tomorrow?

You're thinking about taking it back, but Jungkook has already replied.

Jungkook (Unit 446) [10:51pm]: ok. I'll see you tomorrow 😊

Pursing your lips, you wonder what he's doing tonight.

Is he working? Maybe some take-home paperworks? What do CTOs even do? He must be really busy... though you think it has to be otherwise since he had the time to text you.

You stand up from the chair of your vanity table, patting your hair one last time and jumping to your bed, ready to overthink some more then sleep when an idea suddenly pops up into your head the moment your eyes lay on your phone.

Making yourself comfortable on your mattress, you pick up the phone from your night stand and unlock it, your fingers making quick work of opening the Instagram app and typing jeonjungkook on the search bar.

The results show you a few accounts that resemble the username you looked up, but as you check each one, none of them seems to belong to the man you're looking for. So, you try a few varieties: jungkook, jungkookjeon, jeon... JK?... but then you're sure you've milked out the last of your brain juice trying to come up with a possible username for him but to no avail.

Jimin must be following him, you think to yourself. Since Jimin is a snob on his verified and public account and isn't following anybody there, you go straight to his private account to try and find a Jungkook in his following but again – you guessed it, failed search.

"Does he not have an IG?" you ask yourself, feeling quite exhilarated.

You think about Twitter, but remembering Jungkook's face makes you share your head in disagreement with yourself. There is no way he has Twitter. That guy looks terminally offline and doesn't have the face of someone who likes tweeting in his leisure time.

You'd say it was curiosity rather than desperation when you decided to install Facebook and hoped to see some of him there. You did have little hopes though, as you started typing his name, thinking there was no way you'd see him on the app because, who even uses Facebook nowadays except moms and dads and grandparents?

But then as you jokingly type his name and enter it on the search bar, a few tagged pictures of him show up.

The first one is posted by a Jeon Junghyun, his brother, and the picture is from 2017. Said picture is of Jungkook at the airport sitting on his luggage, and the caption reads as: good luck in college brother.

You stare at the picture, noting how young he looked in it and suddenly feel disoriented when you see his arms with no ink around them. They're so bare, and he definitely looked more lean, not like the muscly guy you know him as now. He was starting college here, so he must've been only 19 in the photo... meaning he got his tattoos in the States while he was in college or maybe even later than that?

You click on Jungkook's page, the one that his brother tagged in the photo, but all you see is the default Facebook profile picture and a locked account.

Feeling disappointed at that, you go back to his brother's page and check it out, throwing all your shame away as you look through his photos.

He must've limited his audience since the public posts are all outdated, but there are a few pictures in which Jungkook is in them, as well as other recurring people who seem to be their parents.

There's a recent family picture of them in the Eiffel Tower – uploaded in 2022 – all four of them.

As you see Mr. Jeon, the CEO of your company, with his family, it's hard not to feel... whiplashed, for the lack of better term. From the looks of it, they seem to be... close? For the record, Jimin does not have any casual pictures of him with his parents, and as far as you know, they never went out on trips together – just galas and all that socialite events. You know they are only mere pictures, not solid enough to assume what Jungkook's relationship is with his family, but you're starting to think maybe it's a good one.

That'll honestly be surprising, given that every wealthy family you know has dysfunctional relationships. Nevertheless, it will be quite... adorable if what you think is true.

"Oh my god," you say, disbelieving, as you recognize Jimin in one of Junghyun's public photos while scrolling through more.

It's an event of some sort, and how can you not spot Jimin when he looks conspicuous in his orange hair? You remember this being in your sophomore year in college, and how much Jimin actually hates that hair and wants to burn down every picture that reminds him of it.

You snort as you zoom in on Jimin, taking a screenshot of the photo, mindlessly going to your messaging app; ready to send him the photo to poke lighthearted fun, but then you realize—

"Oh, I can't do that."

Jimin will ask you where you got the photo from, and you'll have to tell him that you were cyber stalking his cousin. Then, he'll ask why you were stalking his cousin, and he will find out the very thing you don't want him to find out.

That makes you frown, quick to delete the message you were just about to send and put your phone back to your nightstand.

Well, that ruins fun.

You wish you can tell Jimin or anyone for the matter, but you currently don't feel comfortable about doing that.

Sighing, you look up at your ceiling, then forcefully close your eyes to avoid more thoughts coming into your head.

You start counting sheep until you fall asleep.

There had been a lot of times where you felt like shit about yourself. They happen way too many times that at this point, you'd lost count. It wired you to think that there must be something wrong when a day goes all too well.

But there is no beating the feeling of self-antagonism when you ditch somebody – even if it's for a valid reason.

Sure, you've ditched Jimin a couple of times, and he always makes sure to rub it on your face as much as he can until you pout at him and explain to him that there are just some days you do not feel like going out. Jimin, as your best friend, understands that about you, of course.

A lot of times, though, it's the dates you tend to ditch the most. Three dates – you recall – is the number of times you'd skipped out of, just because you had a panic attack thirty minutes before the meeting that one time and two times for the plain, simple fact that you had a realization that you did not really like the guy you were planning to see.

Shin Taemu, the guy from the IT department asked you out last month for a second date and you texted him a last-minute, half-assed lame excuse about having gotten period cramps. Up to this day, you're still wary about using the IT department's copy room because his texts, since then, have been left unanswered. You saw him awhile ago at the cafeteria, though, and he seemed to be treating you non-differently even after you ghosted him suddenly.

Recently, you're doing the same thing again to Jungkook.

It isn't dating, of course – just the whole ditching thing.

You feel terrible for canceling on him again on Saturday when you just told him Friday night that you would go to that boxing machine. He had texted you a simple "we still on?" with a smiley emoji that gave you the creeps (because that smiley emoji does not ever mean the person is smiling behind it – knowing Jungkook though, it's probably not the case, and you're just overthinking it). You've left that text to rot until Sunday morning, and only picked it up later during the night, telling him you were "sorry I just saw this now! I was swamped with work stuff" even though you've never brought paperworks at home in your whole career and you were just binging The X-Files, bashing those two idiotic emotionally constipated FBI agents when you are quite one, yourself.

Sometimes, you fear you're no better than a man. Jimin will willingly knock your head on a door to get you to your senses and tell you all the things about why you should never compare yourself to them – but there are times like these when your shortcomings – specifically your lack of proficiency in communication – mirror that of a man's, and you hate every single second of it.

Until then, you dreaded for Monday to come.

But it's ultimately inevitable

And when you wake up from your sleep, it's Monday, and you have to go to work whether you like it or not.

And oh, to add, Jungkook hasn't replied to your message. Which – okay – ouch. But you're not supposed to be hurt by it; if anything, you kind of deserve it after ditching him so many times. He isn't an idiot, and you're sure he knows you lied... you're just thankful that he's not saying anything if he does know, indeed.

You have thought things over in the shower this morning, though.

If Jungkook is three eggs in your basket, why will it matter? So, what's the big deal if he is Jimin's cousin and that he works at the same company and lives in the same apartment complex?

You finally admit that those things matter to you initially because... you have a crush on him. If you didn't, you'll give fuck-all if he's related to your best friend. You won't care at all if he's your boss because you don't have to worry about fantasizing about him.

But the thing is, you do have some sort of romantic feelings for him, and that is why those things moved you in a way that makes you feel and act a little weird around him.

And now there's this feeling of guilt that has overtaken your entire system. Because if you just see Jungkook platonically, these things won't happen. And you hate it, because he's genuinely a good friend. Someone who may want a friend in you too, but you are ruining it all because you have trivial feelings for him.

Absolutely ridiculous.

But now that those realizations have become clear in your head, you've made up your mind by thinking that those eggs don't matter.

It doesn't matter that he's Jimin's cousin, doesn't matter that he's an executive. You are his friend, and it's was okay to have friends that are your other friend's relative and friends who are your boss.

Of course, it's still awkward to think about him catching you in your home clothes but on a more serious note, your crush will never see the light of the day and even if it does, there's no way Jungkook will accept it because guys like him never settle with people like you. And you don't even mean that in a self-deprecating way, not at all! You are just fully aware of the practical world you live in and know that the vast disparity of your economic status will never work, especially with the kind of family he was born into.

With that said, you are ready for things to be back the way they were. No more pussyfooting in the office in fear that you'll bump into him, no more canceling on his innocent invitations to dinner, no more pining over him secretly and putting malice over everything that he does because you're going to be a renewed person now.

You're ready to take on the big shoes and be matured enough to address his questions if ever he has one.

So, you enter the elevator of Blue Nexus Inc. with a sort of spirit that you're sure will be hard to take down, creating pictures in your head that depict a smooth-sailing conversation with Jungkook where you're ideally going to be cool in it and not at all panic-y.

It's alright. Nothing is going to change—

Your thoughts are disrupted when somebody enters the elevator and the people in it suddenly start bowing their heads, a series of greetings reverberating in the confined space.

Fuck.

"Good morning, Mr. Jeon."

"Greetings, Mr. Jeon."

"Mr. Jeon."

Your eyes widen when you see Jungkook walking in with his black suit and sleek black hair, his eyeglasses sitting on his nose.

Okay, so nevermind the illusion that you're going to be cool now – you're absolutely panicking in your position!

Thank fucking god you're at the back with two persons in front of you, hoping they are enough to at least cover your frame as Jungkook stands in front after greeting back the employees inside.

Oh my god. Fuck me.

You tilt your head to the side with a wince on your face, sneakily raising your arm over your head to take your hairclip off so your hair fans your face. It is a poor attempt at covering yourself lest Jungkook suddenly turns around and recognizes you as a result.

But in that moment, you must look stupid as hell that the guy beside you looks at you weird.

You stand upright, giving him a tight-lipped smile. He just snubs you.

That makes you roll your eyes.

You go back to staring at Jungkook's back agonizing the thought that you really aren't ready at all to confront him. You thought about it all morning, but the moment he got here, all those ideations of you being cool around him from thereon are suddenly thrown out the building.

A few seconds after, somebody drops off at the 13th floor, and it starts to make you feel nervous.

What if more people start going out and then you'll be left alone with Jungkook? You intended to go to the 16th floor where your office is... Jungkook is – wait, where is his floor? You actually have no idea. But you are certain it's floors above you. Oh god! How can you possibly move past him without him recognizing you? Shit. You didn't think about that.

Now, you're starting to lose your bottle, your head not able to form ideas to get through him. The elevator is small! And people are starting to head out...

You look at the position indicator of the elevator, telling you that you're going way up to the 15th floor. A few seconds after and it dings, the elevator door opening. The guy in front of you heads way out, and you can see Jungkook still on his spot.

You find yourself not being able to move, completely stoned in your position.

You sure as hell aren't going out unless he does first! That's your solution. If he's located at the topmost floor, you're going to wait until then. You're just going to ride the elevator down again.

But what you don't see coming is Jungkook suddenly moving to head outside the elevator.

Looking at the indicator once again, you confirm if he really is going to the 15th floor.

The door already closed by the time Jungkook is finally out, which eases your nerves. You're way too relieved to forget thinking about why he's in the 15th floor.

You stop at the 16th with a smile on your face, feeling like you just got away with murder. You've never done it – get away with murder – but that's exactly how you feel.

On your way to the office, your phone vibrates from the pocket of your trousers.

Jungkook (Unit 446) [8:56am]: Correct me if I'm wrong but I think I just saw you at the elevator today

You thought of ways to dodge his bullet, thought about denying his claim and telling him that he must've seen somebody else because you work all the way across town and him seeing you would've been impossible.

But you know the attempts will be futile.

If anything, though, you take it as a sign to finally make things right.

Avoiding Jungkook will never be efficient. In order to be successful in that regard, you'll have to hand in your resignation or move out of your apartment completely and you can't do that.

Besides, for what it's worth, you kind of miss hanging out with him and if you were to continue hiding from him, you will have to say goodbye to having him around at all.

The moment you got off work today, you think of plans to talk to him and maybe, just maybe, invite him for dinner – to, hopefully, make up for all the times you've bailed on him.

With a tail tucked between your legs, you stand apprehensively in front of the door of his unit, still unsure about your plans but doing it nonetheless. There's no going back now.

You ring the doorbell, taking your hand back quickly as if you just got electrocuted by it.

Please don't answer. Please don't be home. Please don't answer—

And there he goes, in his plain white shirt and grey sweats, hair wet from his previous shower – you assume. He's still drying his hair with a towel when he opens the door, but his ministrations stop the moment he lays his eyes on you.

You just give him an awkward smile that probably look more like a grimace.

"Hi."

The surprise is evident on Jungkook's face. Regardless, he is quick to get over it and gives you a big grin instead. An expression you did not expect to get.

"__, hey," Jungkook greets, placing the towel around his neck and letting go of his doorknob. "What brings you here?"

You balance your weight on your other side and purse your lips in a thin line.

"Do you, uh, wanna grab dinner?" You ask right away, not wanting to beat around the bush.

Jungkook's smile somehow grows wider at your question, and you don't know what to feel. If he's petty, he'll reject your invitation but with the look on his face right now, he doesn't seem to have the intention to do so. At least you hope so. It will be so embarrassing for you to have come all the way to his place instead of just asking him through text.

He was about to answer when somebody suddenly approaches the door.

"Jeon Jungkook?" The guy asks, and you immediately shot your eyes to look at him. With his printed shirt that reads a famous food delivery brand and his hands carrying bags of what you assumed take-out food, you figure what he's here for. "Here's your order, sir."

Embarrassed, you scoot to the side to give way to the food delivery guy and let him extend the bags towards Jungkook who grabs his wallet from the pocket of his sweats to pay for the food, thanking the man in the process.

He already has plans for tonight, you realize. Your invitation to dinner is futile because he already bought take-out.

The food delivery guy gave you a look before he took off in which you returned a timid smile for. And then, you turn around to look at Jungkook again.

"Nevermind, don't answer my question." You say, referring to your invitation prior to the arrival of his food delivery. "Uhm, bye. Good night."

You were just turning your heels to go the other way around when Jungkook suddenly speaks.

"Wait, don't go yet," Jungkook steps to the side and inserts his wallet back into his pants. He raises the bags of take-out and arches his brow towards your way, "Do you like Thai?"

"I do." You reply, not really understanding where he's getting at first.

Jungkook smiles. "Good. Do you wanna come inside?"

When you realize what he just said, you shake your head, "Oh, no, no. We could grab dinner outside tomorrow if you're free."

"This is enough for two?"

He's inviting you to his place. Is he insane?

You shake your head once again. "No, Jungkook, I really don't want to impose on—"

Jungkook cut you off with a hearty laugh.

"__, you won't be imposing. Come on, I bet you haven't had dinner yet either." When you don't answer, he insists again, "I think I have Thai tea around here somewhere."

You narrow your eyes at him.

"You think I'll go inside just 'cause you have Thai tea?" you say, raising your brow at him, challenging Jungkook to say something to that. He shrugs with a smile of amusement. Then you break your demeanor and sigh. "You're actually right. I can probably be bribed with daily boba supply."

Jungkook laughs at your absurd claim.

"No matter what's on the line?"

"Yeah," Then you decide to joke a little, "If you're the one on the line."

His laughter only becomes louder, and you shake your head at him because you genuinely wonder why he laughs so much at your nonsensical jokes. You would consider yourself funny but not that funny.

But this is good. Joking is good. This dynamic is surely better than you avoiding him.

"You're so..." Jungkook stops to look at you and you stare back at him. That moment stretches into a minute until you feel the hair on your nape stand.

It's the night air, and not at all the almost intimate way he looked into your eyes.

That's what you'll tell yourself tonight.

"I'm so what?" You decide to break the silence, seemingly snapping Jungkook out of the trance he's put himself in awhile ago.

He shakes his head. "Nothing."

"Okay, now you're just making me curious."

"It's nothing."

"Okay, I'm gonna let it pass this time..." you say, eliciting a low chuckle from him.

He must realize that you've both been standing on his porch for a while now.

"Come," he says, gesturing inside his place.

Your steps are a bit hesitant as you follow him inside. But nonetheless, you both get in, Jungkook offering you a pair of home slipper that are almost twice as big as your feet as he locks the door.

When you let your eyes wander, you're more than surprised to see the state of the interior.

Jungkook's place is surprisingly... clean.

Sure, it must be because there aren't any decorations or much furniture yet, but from your experiences with men, the one thing they have in common is that they are messy. It's almost impossible to not see clothes strewn all over their places or food wrappings on any surface at a corner, but Jungkook's is spotless.

Except maybe for the few boxes that stand beside the door of the room all the way across the room which you assume is his bedroom, but other than that, there's no indicator that a man is residing inside. Admittedly, it's even cleaner than your own.

"Sorry, it's a little messy. I haven't unpacked all of my stuff. Got busy."

He seems to notice you eyeing the aforementioned boxes, and hearing his words, you shake your head.

"Oh, no, trust me. This is the cleanest place I've ever seen." You say truthfully.

"Thanks." Jungkook responds with a smile.

His apartment, like yours, has an open layout so from where you are in the living room, you can see him putting the bags on the kitchen counter, unloading them and starting to transfer some of them into his own plates.

You approach his direction to find yourself useful.

"Is it okay if we eat at the coffee table? My table set hasn't arrived yet..." he rubbs the back of his head, a sheepish smile painting his face.

"It's fine."

His coffee table is wide enough for all the food to fit, anyway. That's what you thought when you bring all the food to the living room, sitting on the floorboards opposite of him.

Before you start dinner, Jungkook asks if you want to watch something on the TV.

"It's like a jumbotron." Is your throw-away comment when he turns on his huge ass TV. It's genuinely so big you aren't even exaggerating. You are not that good with estimation but the screen is probably the same height as you...

"What?" Jungkook chuckles, looking at you all confused.

"Nothing. Just that your TV is so big."

"Yeah? I wanted to buy this one for so long and I got really lucky to get it on sale here. I have the Criterion channel so I've been wanting to watch stuff with an OLED screen—" he cuts himself off and looks at you with a hint of embarrassment. "Sorry."

You look away before you can go on a spiral about how cute he looked with a proud smile on his face while he was going off about how he got his jumbotron on sale. He was geeking out about a freaking TV. But you guess it makes sense for a tech guy like him.

"Uh, what do you want to watch?" He asks, going through his streaming services.

The big TV and the streaming services just click so much in the context of him. You, in contrast, cannot relate. After forgetting to unsubscribe to Netflix a few months ago, it automatically stole the thirteen thousand won from your account, and since then, you're more than traumatized to pay for any streaming services until today. Pirating is bad but so is capitalism.

"Anything is fine."

"Okay."

You really couldn't have cared less about what he's going to click on, but National Geographic pops up on his big screen and you think he must be joking but he starts tuning in with genuine interest.

Oh. Wow.

He's just a big nerd trapped in a hot human body, huh?

How cute. And how unbelievably hot to discover this about him.

After a few minutes into the documentary, it turns out that whales are interesting to a certain degree. Sure, Jungkook's huge ass screen made it a little funny because the pictures are too big, but they did pique your interest a little, especially when Jungkook would add in a little of his own knowledge about them. When you asked him about the weird little stick thing on their mouth, he told you that they were tusks and only male narwhals had them, and that they used it as some sort of sensory tool. He admitted he hyperfixated on whales for a while when he saw them first on Discovery Channel as a kid.

You didn't even have to pretend to be engrossed, you were just in genuine awe of his interests and how enthusiastic he was about sharing them.

Food is starting to run out, making you realize that it's been awhile since you've eaten Thai food and you should probably eat them once again tomorrow.

You're just about to ask Jungkook which restaurant he got it from when he beats you to speaking first.

"You're still in your work clothes."

You stop.

"Yeah..."

And then you're reminded of why you're here in the first place.

It isn't for the whales or for Thai food, that's for sure.

You haven't changed out of your work clothes, indeed, since you planned going out for dinner in hopes of talking to Jungkook while ago. The night is going so well so far that you actually forgot about that. But then since he already cocked the gun, might as well just pull the trigger and get it over with.

You look at him, an uneasy feeling settling in your nerves.

"So... about your text earlier."

There is a hint of a smile on Jungkook's lips when he nods his head.

"Yeah?"

"It wasn't me." You say, trying to look for a reaction, trying to see if he'll insist or anything.

But Jungkook just nods his head again.

"I see."

He does not seem to see, though, and you know right then and there that your cover is finally and officially blown.

"Okay, I lied. That was me." You take back your words, jutting your bottom lip out when you add, "Turns out we work at the same company. And that you're apparently my boss."

"And you're my cousin's girlfriend."

You gasp audibly.

So he knows you were at that party! How? And what? He thought you were Jimin's girlfriend for real? Wait, does he not know it was all Jimin's ruse?

"How did you know that?"

"They mentioned Jimin's girlfriend was in the bathroom when I arrived. I asked Jimin about it and he told me her name was __."

You would face-palm yourself if Jungkook wasn't present.

Ugh. Of course, Jimin doesn't know.

"Well, okay, just so you know, I was a paid actress." You tell Jungkook, which earns you a laugh from him. Then you cover your mouth, realizing you shouldn't have said that. "Oh—uhm, do you know...?" You trail off, looking at him expectantly and hoping he knows what you meant.

You swear you remember Jimin telling you that Jungkook knows about him being gay, but now you are second-guessing yourself and you will be in trouble if you did slip up.

Thankfully, Jungkook nods, seemingly understanding where you're getting at.

"Don't worry, I know." You heave a sigh of relief at his verbal confirmation. Jungkook takes the tom yum goong and started peeling the shrimp from the bowl, continuing to say, "And Jimin brings a fake date to every family gathering, so I knew right away he was lying about dating somebody," Jungkook chuckles, and as if an afterthought, he adds, "I wish I could've seen you act. You two left so early."

Well... you did play a role in that, you think. But you can't tell him you purposefully didn't go back to the table that night because you saw him.

"Oh, Jimin had to send Joon off at the airport." You say, which is actually true. For a change.

He nods. "His boyfriend, yeah... did he go to Italy with him?"

You wonder how he knows about the Italy thing. Jimin, probably. They're close after all—

"Namjoon's a close friend as well." Jungkook adds, as if having read your thoughts.

"Ah," you nod, not surprised at all about their apparent link.

Wealthy people do have a tiny world.

"Jimin hasn't actually contacted me yet since that night."

It has been a few days, and you're starting to think he's dead or something. Your calls go straight to voicemail and your messages do not send. You've sent him a few on social media as well but it seems like he hasn't been online at all.

"I'm worried about him. Has Namjoon said anything?" You look at Jungkook, hoping he'll say yes.

But he shakes his head instead.

"I wouldn't be worried, though. I think they're together."

"In Italy?"

"Yeah."

You won't be surprised if that's the case. Jimin is the king of spontaneity and if he did fly off to another country abruptly with his boyfriend, you won't question it.

You do miss him though and you're gonna make sure to make him feel bad for not telling you anything soon.

"You're right." You sigh.

Jungkook has been peeling shrimp for awhile now, setting them aside in a small bowl. You think he's gonna eat it himself, but you're surprised when he slides off the bowl to your direction.

"There. I noticed you weren't eating the tom yum. You don't like it?" Jungkook asks, smiling at you.

You can't help it; blood rushes to your cheeks at the realization that he just peeled shrimps for you.

Is this normal for him? Like, does he just go around and do things like these for friends?

You will scream in your bathroom later when you get home.

"Oh, no, uh... I'm actually allergic to shrimp." You give him a tight-lipped smile.

You feel bad at the way Jungkook's expression drops as soon as you said that.

"Shit, sorry, I didn't know," He takes the small bowl quickly and looks at you apologetically.

"No, it's fine! I didn't tell you either."

"I'm really sorry. I should've asked first."

"Jungkook," you chuckle. "It's fine. Thank you, anyway."

"I could've done serious damage to you, huh?"

"Yeah, you'd have to tell Jimin you killed me because you fed me shrimp."

"Don't say that," Jungkook laughs. "How long are you friends now, by the way?"

You nip on your chopsticks, answering him.

"We've been friends since college... so almost ten years."

"That's really nice."

And then you remember to ask, "Did you tell him?"

"What?"

"That you know me?"

"No. Not yet, at least. Didn't have the chance." Jungkook proceeds to eat the shrimp himself and you have to keep yourself from letting out a breath of relief at his answer. "Did you tell him?"

"No. Uh— I know this is weird. But... can you not tell him?" You ask. Jungkook looks at you for a bit, studying your face. You clear your throat when seconds passed and he still hasn't said anything. "It's just that I want to tell him on my own time." You decide to add.

"Okay." He says after a while, smiling.

Thank god he doesn't ask any more questions.

"Thanks."

And now there's another elephant in the room that you still need to address.

A bit hesitant, you open with, "Did you uhm..." You think about how to word it, but then you think, fuck it. "Did you know by that time at the party that I work at Blue Nexus?"

Jungkook shakes his head.

"No, I saw you at the company and only put two and two together."

Your brows furrow. "When?"

"Uh... earlier this morning."

"Oh. Yeah..."

You don't know exactly why, but you feel a tinge of disappointment that he meant earlier. You really thought he recognized you at the ceremony.

But then you shake the feeling off and jokingly narrow your eyes at him. "Why didn't you tell me about the party, then?"

"Why, did you see me there?"

You shut your mouth. Right. You're supposed to pretend you didn't seen him that time.

"No." You lie.

"So I thought it didn't matter... though I was pretty surprised when I saw you today."

"Ugh, I thought I hid myself pretty well." You lament dramatically, embarrassed that you really thought covering your face with your hair would do you any good.

"Nah," Jungkook shakes his head while laughing at your misery, "I thought, "who is this five-foot woman hiding in the back","

"Wow." You gasp, not believing his audacity. But you're also thankful that he makes talking to him so easy. The way your conversations goes from funny to serious is so seamless, all because Jungkook knows exactly how to turn the wheels around.

"Kidding. I actually recognized you by your blouse..." he gestures at your baby blue polo sleeves, making you furrow your brows, not quite sure how he meant. But then, he continues, "Did the ink ever come off?"

Oh. Right! He had seen you wear the blouse before and even heard you tell him the story about how the jammed printer caused a blot of ink to stain your cuff.

You're surprised he even remembers that. It seems so long ago.

Raising your arm to examine the cuff area of your blouse, you look at it with small amusement.

"Yeah, it did, actually."

"How did you do it?"

You deadpan, "You're not asking me how I do my laundry, Jungkook."

"Hey, I love doing laundry," You raise your brow, not believing him, but Jungkook insists. "No, I really do."

"Okay." You nod, chuckling because he really seems way too eager to prove to you that he loves doing laundry.

What you've found out about him so far is so... mesmerizing, to say the least. With how he looks like – you meant, the tattoos and the body – you would most likely assume he likes guy stuff. You know, big macho man stuff like that. But turns out, he's just a guy who likes big TVs and NatGeo and... laundry.

He's such a fascinating person.

"I'm also not your boss." Jungkook suddenly says, making you look up at him.

"Well, you're CTO, you technically are." You point out.

"Technically, yes. But I don't oversee the accounting department, so you're not really working for me, which means I'm not your boss."

The mental gymnastics make you frown but you get his point.

"Okay, that's true. But still... your father is Mr. Jeon."

"Would you believe me if I denied that?" He jokes, the tilt in his voice telling you he is.

"You kind of look the same, so I probably wouldn't believe you."

"Really? A lot of people say I look more like my mother..."

You've seen the pictures. It's more of a split, really. But you can't tell him that obviously.

Silence sits in his living room for a while, the NatGeo narrator serving as background noise at this point.

You drop your chopsticks down and sigh. Jungkook looks at you with furrowed brows, worried about your sudden seriousness.

"So, you're not like weirded out about this whole thing?" You ask him straight to the point.

Joking is good, as you said. And this night is going better than you thought. But it feels like you are just glossing over the facts, and you need to address it with him lest it becomes a problem in the future. You don't know how exactly they are going to be; you just have a feeling in your heart that they are going to.

"The what?" Jungkook says, looking genuinely confused, as if he doesn't know what your deal is.

"The I'm-your-cousin's-best-friend? And the fact that you're an executive at the company I work at and we live in the same building?" You lay out, sounding exasperated now that you're taking it all out.

Jungkook stares at you for a bit.

"Why would that weird me out?"

He isn't being dense, you can see that. He's just plain confused.

You sigh once again. Seems like you've been doing a lot of that these past few days.

"Because it's just... too many eggs in the basket."

Jungkook chuckles, wiping his hands with a tissue. "Isn't it good you have many eggs in the basket?"

You glare at him, and it makes him raise his hands as a peace offering.

"It's bad because..."

"... because?" Jungkook, now with his hands clean, props an elbow on the coffee table, looking right into your eyes as he leans closer to your direction.

You look away.

"Because it means I can't hang out with you anymore."

When you look at him again, the smile is wiped off his face, suddenly exchanged with a frown.

"Why?"

"Because again, it's too many eggs in the basket and—" Running out with metaphors, you say the first thing that was off the top of your head, "That makes you my uncle."

Jungkook's jaw drops a bit.

"Your thought process really amazes me."

You grimace, already expecting that. "Thanks, I get that a lot."

"No, it's really... interesting."

He doesn't look judgmental at all, just full of genuine awe, but you're eager to come to your own defense and so you say, "You don't get it? It's like—" You fling your hands around, trying to explain what you just said. "You don't have a close relationship with your uncle, right? 'Cause it's awkward. When you're with them it's like being with your boss, which means you can't be friends with them 'cause, again, it's awkward."

Jungkook still looks like he doesn't know what the hell you're talking about, but he nods his head, nonetheless.

"Okay... but I have a very close relationship with the CEO..."

You pout. "That's not what I meant."

And when he chuckles at that, you know he's fucking with you and understand exactly what you were trying to say; fooling around as if you aren't having an internal crisis.

Jungkook must've seen how you're genuinely not finding anything funny and stops.

"Is that why you've been avoiding me the past few days?" He raises his brow, but his voice is gentle as he speaks.

You didn't think he'd confront you about that, but you decide to look away when you try to lie as an answer.

"No...?"

Jungkook only chuckle at your indignation.

"Okay, okay, let's divide and conquer, yeah?" He smiles at you. Warm and soft. "First, you're Jimin's best friend, what's the issue? It just means you must be a good person to hang around with because you're friends with the person I'm close to. Second, I'm not your boss, will you please stop saying that? And third, we're neighbors... so what? We just happened to rent in the same building. No big deal."

Your frown just gets deeper at what he said because... he's right. So right.

You overreacted the whole time you tried to hide from him.

With nothing else to add, you weakly ask, "Okay but... can you fire me?"

In your head, it's a relevant question. You don't know how the chain of command worked at the company. He's an executive which probably means he has firing rights, right? What if he finds you too rude towards him over the past few days that he wants to take your job away from you? Can he fire you because of personal vendetta?

"Asking the important question?" Jungkook teases.

"Damn straight, I am. I mean, I did complain to you about my job before, and it turns out you're one of the executives at the company."

"I can see the wheels in your head turning but sorry to say I'm not actually an official executive. I'm just an interim CTO. And no, I don't have the right to fire you," Jungkook chuckles, seemingly amused at your thoughts. "And you can complain to me about your job all you want."

You send him a suspicious look.

"No, thank you."

"Seriously?" He asks incredulously. "Interim CTO or Jimin's cousin or not, I'm still Jeon Jungkook. Just your plain ol' neighbor."

"You say that but what if I arrive to my desk tomorrow with my things packed because you told Ms. Jung all the things I told you about her?" You squint your eyes at him.

"God, you're unbelievable." Jungkook says in between his laughter.

"Okay, but I wanna ask you something." You say. Jungkook hums. "I'm curious... why here?"

It isn't like your apartment complex is abominable or anything of the sort. When you were still on the look-out of apartments five years ago, here was the only decent one that did not cause you a 3-month pay. It's why you chose it in the first place. The unit is big enough for yourself and it's located at the center of the city, which means that it's near establishments that are relevant to your daily living. The bus station is also just a few minutes walk, and it only takes you an hour commute to get to your company building. It was the best out of all your choices back then.

However, for a guy like Jungkook, you wonder why he isn't at the big shot complexes like in Cheongdam or Hannam. You don't doubt he can afford those.

But Jungkook surprises you with his answer.

"It's cheaper."

You can't help but raise your brow.

"What?" And then as if realizing your look, Jungkook chuckles. "Oh, I see... you think I'm, like, rich?"

You shrug.

Jungkook answer with a simple, "My parents are loaded. And anyway, it's near the company. I also really like it here so far. Hannam felt like prison when I stayed there in my first week. Guards were way too strict."

Nodding, you recall Jimin's stories about that gated community when he himself stayed there for merely three months. It makes sense for it to almost seem like prison, though, given that most people who live there are high profile.

"I commute on my way to work. What about you?"

"I bought a parking spot nearby; it's surprisingly cheap compared to America."

You wouldn't know because you've never had a car in your life. First of all, you refuse to apply for a driving license because you're sure you'll kill yourself on the road. Besides, cars are expensive. You'll stick to your buses and trains all your life even though commuting sucks ass sometimes.

But you nod at Jungkook's words.

Soon, you both engage in more conversation about yourselves until you notice the time.

"It's getting late, I should go. I have work tomorrow." You tell him with a pout, genuinely disappointed about having to go.

Jungkook looks over at the clock hanging on his wall and then turns to you, "We have work tomorrow, you mean."

You blush at that for no reason.

"Well..."

"Okay, I'll walk you to your place."

"What?" You laugh. "That's ridiculous."

"What's ridiculous about it? You're so short, the crickets might attack you." Jungkook says with a serious face.

That makes you frown instantly.

"Ugh, you've got to stop saying that. I'm starting to dislike you."

"Hmm."

Jungkook indeed followed you on your way out, though, but not without you insisting that he didn't need to walk you to your door because it was literally just across his, but Jungkook was persistent and you had no choice but to walk the five steps it took to get in front of your apartment from his own.

He's still laughing when your face is still contorted into an unpleasant expression.

"Okay, good night." You say. You point to his chest absent-mindedly, but you quickly take it back when you feel how hard it is. "A-and stop calling me short, I'm not. The __ karma is real, I have Jimin to prove that."

"Fine, I'll stop." Jungkook smiles, watching as you enter your threshold.

"Good."

You stand on your door, leaning over the frame and not closing it just yet.

Jungkook gives you a heart-warming smile before he says, "See you tomorrow."

And he speaks the words so gently that you feel your cheeks heating once again.

"S-see you as well."

"You look banging in that polo shirt." Jimin says, obviously chatting you up because the moment you accepted his call earlier this morning, you did not hesitate to tell him off about going MIA on you so suddenly.

"It's literally just a plain white polo."

"Okay, and you still look good in it, so..." He shrugs, but you can see the look on his face, sheepish and apologetic.

You scoff.

"You can't compliment me out of sulking. I'm mad at you."

There's a pout that forms on his lips quickly; a tactic so predictable you almost roll your eyes.

"I know... but I told you! Joon and I spent the last week—"

"Fucking each other to Sunday and back, blah blah blah. Still, you could've told me you went to Italy, you slut."

Jimin lets out a loud laugh at your blunt words.

"Slut shaming in the big year of 2028? I thought you were better than that." He shakes his head, pretending to be pointed and curt with the bitchy look on his face. But you know he's just teasing to get you out of your own bitchy mode as well.

It works every time.

You don't fight the way your eyes roll on their own accord as a response this time. Jimin compromises, "Okay, I'm sorry! For not telling. It's just that I've turned off my phone for the past week because I'm sure dad and his secretary are going to blow up my phone— they are, by the way, so cut me some slack."

Forgiveness comes easy when you take into consideration what he's been through for the past few weeks. The spontaneous trip to Italy and him flying along with his boyfriend may come off as immature, but you know deep inside he's just wanting to get away from the reality of his life: which is pretty much toxic family with incredibly high expectations and boring ass management school.

You are certain they are giving him shit, and you don't need to add more to that.

It's 7:20 and you're currently prepping for work. Privacy is almost moot in your friendship with Jimin, so you're quite literally dressing up in front of him on call, sweeping your hair to the side as you pull up your trousers.

"Okay... are you having fun there?" You ask instead.

Jimin smiles a knowing grin. "Babe, I just told you me and my boyfriend are having sex 24/7 in here, I'm having the most fun in my life."

You button your trousers and groan at his words.

"I wish I was also in Italy."

"I mean, you could."

You give him a look.

"And what? Third wheel you and Joon? No thanks."

Jimin just shrugs, the angle of his camera going shaky for a bit as he moves to lay on what you assume is his bed.

"I don't know, girl, maybe you'll find a nice Italian man here."

That earns him a snort from you while you duck to wear your sandals.

"I've long forgotten that fantasy since I was 19."

"You're not a stranger to relapsing..." Jimin clocks and that makes you shoot up straight so he can see the look of incredulity on your face as an immediate reaction to what he just said.

"Rude!"

Jimin just snorts. "Okay but for real, how are things going over there for you?"

You sigh. "Same old, same old. Pretty and single and working a very boring job."

Your best friend can't help but mirror the wince on your face.

"You could change the last two but never the first one, babe. So, you see, you're still miles ahead." He says as a matter of fact, sounding like he's giving out some sort of motivational speech.

"Lucky me," you noted with a straight face. You start rummaging your bag to see if you got everything you need. Then, there's something at the tip of your tongue. Something you've been wanting to open up to him. So, you start by clearing your throat – subtly, you hope.

"But you know, life's pretty... eventful the past few days."

Jimin quirks his eyebrow at that, obviously catching onto what could possibly be a new news.

You bite your lower lip, nibbling on it slightly as you contemplate whether to tell him about what you've been up to.

For some weird reason, you still haven't told him about Jungkook, and it seems like Jungkook has made good on his promise not to tell your best friend because if he did break it, Jimin would be inquiring you all about it now.

You figure now is sort of the perfect time to... maybe tell him.

"Uh, well... not eventful, per se, just a little..." you trailed off, finding a bit of uncertainty in your voice. You see Jimin's face morphing into more of a confused look rather than intrigued as the second passes. Pursing your lips into a thin line, you finish your previous sentence with, "Just a little different, I guess."

"Don't edge me, I swear to god." Jimin threatens playfully, making you chuckle.

"It's not something groundbreaking, okay? It's just the, uh, do you still remember Mr—"

The yawn that Jimin lets out stops you from completing your words, and you remember him mentioning a while ago that it's currently midnight from where he is.

"Ugh," Jimin groans, "Sorry, I slept so late yesterday. Anyway, go on, what were you saying?"

The uncertainty you felt a while ago increases, and you decide that maybe, now is so not the perfect time to bring up Jungkook, his cousin.

So, you shake your head, smiling at him, packing the words of your confession in a box that that you place at the back of your head, ready for unpacking when the time calls for it – which you don't exactly know when.

"Nah, go to sleep. This conversation can wait."

"You're gonna kill me with curiosity."

Rolling your eyes, you make a gesture of shoving him.

"I have to catch up with my bus soon, anyway." You say, dodging his insistence.

"Just tell me pretty please, I won't be able to sleep!" He dramatically says.

You roll your eyes again at the theatrics.

"It's really nothing big."

Well, it is. Sort of. Or maybe it's not, and you're just doing that thing again where you put too much thought over something inconsequential.

You swear you were ready to tell him about Jungkook, having even hyped yourself in the bathroom a few days ago and practicing what you're going to tell Jimin. But as of this moment, right now, it suddenly feels... unimportant. Not in a negative way. Just in a... does-it-really-matter way.

Jimin will find out eventually. But not now when you're not totally ready.

"I know what this is," Jimin suddenly says. At his suspicious tone, your heart starts to pick up the rate of its beat. You can see the way Jimin squints his eyes at you, and you wish he doesn't see the way you're slightly frozen. "You got back with your ex, Hansung."

You hope he sees the disgust on your face the moment he let out the words.

"Oh my god, hell no!" Is your instant response. Just hearing that name again made the hairs on your nape rise. "Jimin, what the fuck."

Jimin rolls his eyes. "You look so nervous, that's how you look like when you're about to tell me you've done something stupid."

Okay, fair. The assumption is coming from a valid basis. It makes you frown at him.

"You're such a bitch." Jimin laughs at the way you deflate. You let out a sign. "It's just... Taemu. From the IT dep."

"That guy?!" He exclaims and quickly covers his mouth. "The cute guy you refused to date a second time... you're finally dating him again?"

"What do you mean, finally?" You narrow your eyes at him, surprise at the positive comment about Taemu. "Jesus, I thought you were with me when I said I found him boring."

"What can I say? He can be cute and boring." He points out, as if he did not talk behind the Taemu's back when you ranted about the guy to him.

"You're fake as hell." You laugh, unbelieving.

Jimin joins your laughter, finding his sudden switch up funny as well.

"But you're, for real, dating him again? It means he still likes you?" He asks, obviously intrigued at this newfound information.

Unfortunately, it's a bit of a lie. You feel bad, but it is a great scapegoat to dodge the bullet of the conversation about Jungkook.

"I don't know... we're talking."

Which, for once, is true. Taemu and you did not exactly end on a good note (courtesy to you, boo), but you work in the same company, after all. There are times in the company's cafeteria where you bump into him, and it would have felt weird if you just snub him and act like you did not have an acquaintanceship before he asked you out to a date. Taemu's ultimately still your friend, and there are no hard feelings on his part, you can confidently say. He's... nice, you guess. Somehow of an afterthought. You're starting to think you completely misjudged him on your first date.

You take a quick trip to the fridge to grab a glass of cold water since Jimin is on loudspeaker anyway.

"That reminds me," Jimin suddenly quips. You hum to acknowledge him. "My cousin now works at your company, right? You still remember Jungkook? Have you met him yet?"

You couldn't help it; the water splattered all over the place when you heard Jungkook's name from his mouth.

Jimin quickly asks you a series of "are you okays" and you respond with a "yes" that's interrupted with a cough every time; a weak nod with a raised hand, telling him not to worry.

"Water just got in the wrong track." You reason, coughing and slapping your chest to regain your breathing. When you see wet spots on your shirt, you let out a whiny groan.

"You're so jumpy today. You're sure you're fine?" Jimin checks once again, and you have to bite your tongue to not show the way you froze a little at his observation.

You nod at him, showing him an expression that hopefully conveys he's the one being weird and definitely not you.

"Yeah, it's fine." You look down on your shirt. You're debating whether to stick with it and just let it dry in the bus later or completely change out of it. "But uh, your cousin! I did see him. We had a ceremony a week ago."

You would've said that with a smile, but Jimin knows you too well that he'll surely know it's fake. So, you spoke with an almost straight face. What Jimin says next surprises you a bit, though.

"I hope you meet each other," Jimin's excitement is visible on his face. "It'd be kinda fun; my closest cousin and my best friend... imagine that? I think you'll like each other." He seems to be so geeked about the idea that even when you're internally having a crisis, you can't help but find it cute. But then his smile gets wiped off his lips just as quickly as it showed. "It'd be awkward, though. He's, kinda like, your boss, right?"

You suddenly remember Jungkook's words about him not being your boss. It makes your lips curl, but you have to shake off the thought.

You give him a hesitant look.

"Well, not really, but he's an executive. So... it would be awkward. I guess."

Jimin nods, agreeing with you.

"It's crazy though, I never thought he'd be working at uncle's company so soon..." He trails off and he looks deep in thought, like his words were just supposed to be inner thoughts and you're not supposed to hear them. But he shakes his head after a while, moving on to another subject that makes you quietly sigh in relief. "Anyway, I'm sure I'm keeping you up. I'll sleep and you better tell me all about Kang Taemu when I wake up, okay?"

You chuckle, shaking your head at the threatening tone of his voice.

"I will. When will you come home, anyway?"

He groans, obviously not wanting to discuss home for the reasons you know exactly what. He confirms your assumption by telling so.

"Honestly, I don't know. I'm trying to avoid responsibilities as much as I can. God, I wish you were also here. There's a bar Joon and I discovered that sells these insane bottomless mimosas."

Before you could reply, Jimin goes off the frame suddenly, but the lower part of his face makes you see the way his lips curling up into a smile and saying, "Hey, hon."

There's a greeting from another person on the other end of the line – one that you are certainly familiar with.

Jimin moves his camera and as expected, you see Namjoon waving at you.

"Hey, __,"

You mirror the smile on his face. "Hi, Joon."

"Let's not keep her up. She has to go to work," Jimin tells Namjoon. "Anyway, bye. Kick some ass at work."

Laughing, you tell them, "I'll be off. Good night to you both."

When the call ends, you look down to your shirt once again, seeing that the little wet spots still haven't dried yet. Sighing, you decide to change out of it because it looked untidy.

Too bad you didn't check the time when you were doing it though, because as soon as you were done buttoning the new shirt you've worn, the clock hits 7:55 am. You bus arrives at exactly 8 am.

"Shit." You hiss, scrambling out of the apartment hoping that you can somehow run your way fast to the station and hop on it on time.

But you're no The Flash or Usain Bolt. To piss you off more, the strap of your bag got caught up with the handle of your door.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?!" You whisper, hastily untangling the strap off the door which won't let up.

"__?" As soon as you hear the familiar voice, you stop with what you were doing and turn to Jungkook, conjuring up a what you can only hope a pleasant enough smile.

"Hey!" You say, chirpy in that weird way. You hope he didn't catch you cursing the door.

But with the way he was looking at your hand on your door, you knew he did.

Sigh. He just really has to catch you in your most vulnerable moments, huh?

"Good morning," Jungkook greets with a smile, ignoring the case at hand. As usual, he looks put together with his sleek suit and styled hair and eyeglasses.

"Morning," You say, slowly taking off the strap around the handle, gentle and slower this time.

Fucking door handle, you thought bitterly.

As you do that, you catch a glimpse of your wristwatch. Shoot.

You look back at Jungkook apologetically, moving away from your porch. "Nice seeing you. I have to catch my bus."

"When is it coming?"

"At exactly... two minutes from now. Bye! Gotta run!" You were about ready to literally run but Jungkook calls out your name.

"Wait!"

You stop coming down the flight of stairs to ask him, "What?"

"I can drive us together there."

"Oh," You slap your hands on your trousers. "That's so nice of you. Thank you—" And then suddenly, his words register, and you take back your quick agreement. You hate that you're so slow sometimes, but it's innate at this point. "I mean, no! That's a nice offer, but no, thank you."

"You won't catch your bus at this point," Jungkook says as a matter of fact, even taking a quick glance at his own watch. He begins to walk down the stairs to walk with you. "It only takes thirty minutes to drive by car to the company." When it takes you long to answer, Jungkook insists, already predicting the "no" that you're going to hit him with. "Come on, do you want to be late?"

"No."

Jungkook smiles at you. "Okay, so...?"

You purse your lips into a thin line, blowing your bangs and giving him a sheepish look.

"Okay, fine. But I owe you."

The smile on his face only grows wider. "More than fine by me."

He leads you both to the parking building nearby where his car was, only taking about a few minutes to walk towards.

When Jungkook points at his car, you follow his behind him shortly, stopping on the one side of the door. You're just about to open it when you feel Jungkook looming behind you, his hand extended forward to open the same door. You stretch your neck to look at him in question, making sure to keep a decent distance between you both.

"Uh...?" You utter.

And then it hits you.

He's trying to open the door for you.

You take a step back after the realization, feeling shy about the prospect of such a chivalrous act from him.

"This is the driver's seat."

"Oh!" You exclaimed. Eyes widening, you walk backwards to give him more space. "Yeah! Fuck... sorry," You apologize, cheeks starting to heat in embarrassment.

You round about the car and enter the passenger seat quickly, seeing Jungkook already set in his own place. You look to the side, almost pressing yourself to the window just so he won't see the way you wince.

So fucking embarrassing. This is exactly what you write about in your diary during high school days.

"Your seatbelt," Jungkook says, and you look at him with widened eyes. Right. You were way too deep in embarrassment that you forgot about it. You fiddle with the seatbelt a few seconds before he speaks once again, "Let me."

And you couldn't have stopped him from leaning closer to you to grab the seatbelt and wear it around your waist, carefully and gently, making you hitch your breath at the sudden proximity.

Of course you've noticed it way before, but this is the first time you were close enough to deduce that he smells like green apple and fresh laundry. A little different from the musky scent that you were used to smelling on men that you've been with before.

"There." He smiles at you before sitting back on his chair, wearing his own seatbelt.

You are way too stunned to acknowledge what he did that for the first few minutes, you're just quiet, mind flying to some place. You only snap out of it when Jungkook speaks again.

"Slept late last night?"

You shake your head at his question. "No... just facetime with Jimin this morning. You were right to tell me not to worry, he's with Joon."

Jungkook nods at your words, turning the ignition of the car. He starts to reverse, and you feel yourself growing embarrassingly hot when he does the thing of putting his arm around the back of your seat while the other spins the wheel, stretching his neck to look back.

You decide to look away for your own sake.

"Uh, anyway, I'm really sorry."

"Hm?" Jungkook hums, eyes on the road as he starts driving.

If you think about it, you were just at his place a few nights ago eating dinner with him, and now, you somehow find yourself in his car as he drives you both to work. His constant kindness is not lost on you... but Jungkook's casualty makes it seem like this is just his plain nature.

You quirk your head to the side.

"Are you free later for lunch?"

"I can arrange my sched. Why?"

"Do you want to go together?" You ask. You'd say the offer is a form of compensation for his help today, but getting lunch together for the pure sake of it doesn't sound bad, either. Both works, so you're only a bit hopeful as you try to look for his reaction.

Jungkook has a hint of surprise on his face when he takes a quick look at you before turning his attention back on the road.

"Really?" There's a little lilt to his voice, as if he's not surer if you're being serious.

You shrug to appear casual. "If you're not too busy, that is."

He shakes his head, smiling. "Where are we going?"

"You're gonna find out later." You tell him. Jungkook cocks his head to the side, intrigued.

"Okay... where should I meet you, then? At your office?"

"Oh, god, no." Is your quick response. Jungkook immediately looks at you in offense, but it's more like amusement when he stares longer. At that, you wave your hand so he doesn't get the wrong idea. "No, no, I mean— it's just rude if an executive, like, comes to our office."

"You're still not hung up on the boss thing?" You roll your eyes at his teasing tone which earns a hearty chuckle from Jungkook. He shakes his head playfully at you. "I doubt anyone would care."

You jut your bottom lip out because he's probably right. But still, your co-workers would ask, and you're not trying to dig yourself a hole by making yourself news of the day because the newly appointed interim CTO just walked into your office for what? Lunch? The HR would have a field day.

"Maybe we can meet at the parking lot?" You offer, thinking it's the sensible place.

Jungkook smiles. "Alright."

You had to stay behind Joonhwi and Sol as lunch came, making an excuse about going out with a friend as opposed to not coming with them. In your head, you think you were doing Joonhwi a favor.

After that, you were welcomed with text from Jungkook when you turned on your phone. It said he was already at the basement where he parked earlier, so it wasn't exactly hard to spot him right away the moment you got there.

The drive to your destination was quick enough to only amount to around fifteen minutes. As soon as Jungkook managed to park his car somewhere, you lead him to where the place you'd chosen for lunch.

When he finally registered where you were, his amusement does not go unnoticed.

"I've always wanted to go here," He tells you, looking around the stores in-line by the street.

You look back at him in surprise.

"You haven't been here?" Jungkook nods and you want to ask him if he's kidding around, but then you realize he's no ordinary person like most of the people you know in your life, recalling that Jimin's first time in a marketplace like this was only when you introduced him to it during sophomore year. "But you eat street food, right?" You ask him, even though you know he does. You did spend nights on that food truck around your building.

"Of course I do," Jungkook chuckles, rubbing a hand at the back of his head, seemingly shy. "I just never tried it here."

You give him a wide grin. "You're gonna enjoy it here. Follow me, I have a favorite store here that sells really good hotteok."

You spent the better part of the morning thinking about the place where you can bring him, opting out of going to cafes and restaurant because it was just getting kind of old. Aside from the fact that you stopped going to the food truck across your apartment building, it's also been a while since you enjoyed some street food yourself. You're also delighted to know that this is apparently Jungkook's first time going here.

The area is usually livelier in the later hours of the night, but there are still a lot of people by lunch time. Students, civilians, tourists... a usual day in Seoul, you can say.

When you reach the hotteok stall, you ask for your usual right away, almost asking the same thing for Jungkook but remember that he might actually want something else.

"Do you want other flavors instead?" You look back at him while he stands behind you with his hands in his pockets. He's forgone the coat – it's somewhere in his car seat – which left him with his usual polo shirt, sleeves folded up to his forearms. He kind of looks broody with his stance and you know... the exposed tattoos – but he looks adorable when he gives you that familiar easy-going smile at your question.

"I'll have whatever you're having."

You're hungry for a while now so you don't wait a long time to take a bite of the hotteok when it's finally served. It's hot, and Jungkook laughs as you learn it the hard way, sputtering as you move the food away from you.

"Fuck!" You curse, blowing air and fanning your mouth which doesn't really do anything.

"Slow down," Jungkook says in between his chuckles. You feel his arm resting on your back as some sort of support. "I'll get you some water."

It only takes him a few seconds to stop by a nearby stall to get you some bottled water, and you thank him after drinking it quickly.

"Sorry 'bout that," You apologize, smiling sheepishly.

"There's a—" Jungkook gestures at his mouth. You arch your brow at him, a bit confused. He tries again. "Something in your—" He interrupts himself, shaking his head, and takes out a handkerchief from the depths of his slacks.

Your immediate reaction is to take a few steps back when he goes to wipe at your mouth. Jungkook stops, pausing his movement. You give him an awkward thumbs up which prompts him to continue.

"Done."

You choose to gloss over that occurrence, taking another bite of hotteok after that.

"You know I always wondered why I don't see you going out of your apartment every morning." You start a conversation while you walk together mindlessly.

"You wonder... why?" Jungkook looks at you for a brief moment. With a teasing grin, he says, "You wanna see me every day?"

You gasp.

"Gross, Jungkook." You say, absolutely scandalized at what he said.

He just laughs, shaking his head, amused at your reaction. It makes you roll your eyes.

"I just figured you don't commute so you don't need to leave early." You tell him.

You notice he seems to be extra playful today.

"Oh, yeah, that's right."

"Lucky you. I'm so sick of commuting."

"You don't like driving?"

You shake your head, "I don't know how to drive, and I don't have any intention to."

"I think I've heard that from Joon before." Jungkook chuckles.

"Oh yeah, he told me one time he'll most probably kill himself if he drives. Which– same."

Jungkook bites on his hotteok, chews on it for a while before saying, "That's what I thought when I started to drive a motorcycle."

You almost snap your head to look at him.

"You drive a motorcycle?" You ask, just to be sure you heard him right.

Jungkook nods. "Hm."

"Oh, wow... that must be..." You trail off, looking blankly ahead of you.

Well, now you can't get it out of your head. Jungkook riding a motorcycle with his tattoos out. Jungkook riding a motorcycle with a leather jacket.

Ugh. You told yourself you were gonna forget about the stupid crush! This is so counterproductive. There's nothing special about a man who drives a motorcycle! Not at all.

"Must be...?" Jungkook curiously asks you.

"Nerve-wracking." You say, which you think is a fair answer. He doesn't have to know that you're thinking about a totally different thing.

He nods. "It was for the first time. Mom always gives me an earful whenever I use it." He shakes his head while laughing.

You can't help but ask.

"You're close with your mom?" It only registers to you that the question must be way too privy, but Jungkook doesn't seem to think so as he answers casually right away.

"Yeah. She was really glad when I came home."

You smile. You once thought he's close with his family... turns out you aren't exactly wrong.

"That's sweet."

He just gives you a soft smile. "You?"

"Oh, me? She, uh, died awhile ago. So."

The smile on Jungkook's face falters.

"That... sucks."

"Thanks." And then it makes you laugh. "You know most people say sorry. You're the first one to say it sucks."

"I..." Jungkook seems to track back on what he said. "I mean, I'm sorry, of course. But it must suck, right? I just... love my mom a lot. Can't imagine losing her."

You nod, completely understanding where he's coming from.

All your life, people have always felt sorry for you for losing your mom, your only parent. Of course, you're thankful for the sympathy, but sometimes... you just need someone to be real with it. Someone to say it sucks – because losing a parent is hard. Losing a mother suck.

"You're not so bad, Jungkook." you comment after a while, and as you take a quick look at Jungkook, you see him in another light. The same light you see a person in when you figure you want to befriend them and be in their life.

"What do you mean by that?" Jungkook asks with an arched brow.

You shake your head, smile not going away.

"Nothing!"

Jungkook annoyed you some more about it and you had to laugh at his curiosity because it was funny the way he insisted about something really inconsequential. Even when you went to another stall to buy some drinks, he still tried to bring up the same thing, but you're more stubborn than him so of course his efforts did not bear any fruit.

After a while, you sit on some bench while you eat tornado fries.

"I don't like this." You say, looking at your stick and frowning. Turning to Jungkook, you extend your tornado fries to him. "Try this one."

He takes a bite from your own stick. Surprisingly, he seems to like it.

"You wanna exchange?" He offers his cheesy tornado fries in exchange with your sour barbecue-flavored one. You nod, taking it from him. Jungkook chuckles at you. "I told you to get that one."

"I was feeling experimental." You tell him simply.

When you were in front of the stall, you told him how you didn't like sour barbecue at all but still wanted to give it a try. Obviously, that did not go well. Good thing Jungkook bought the cheesy flavor, though.

From your peripheral vision, you see a group of what seems to be a group of teenage girls sitting on the bench across from you. Judging from the very familiar uniform, they're in high school. They've been there for a while now and you notice they've been stealing glances at your direction.

You glance at Jungkook and snort.

"Looks like someone here has some admirers from Seoul High School." You tease Jungkook. He does not seem to notice the girls at all, looking at you with confusion first before turning his head to look across.

In a second, Jungkook turns uncomfortable in his seat.

"That's Seoul High School?"

You laugh at the obvious way he ignores them looking at him. Still, you nod your head at his question, "Yup. Went there."

You subtly look at the girls' direction again, catching them do the same and you can just see Jungkook's ears getting red by the second, visibly embarrassed at the unwanted attention.

"That's just across my high school." He casually says, trying so hard not to mind the girls.

"No way!" You gasp. "Yongsan International?"

He nods.

"The cheerleading teams on both schools used to have, like, this big beef before, you know that?" You tell him, ready to lay out the huge gossip that happened in your batch. And then you remember, "Oh. You've probably graduated when I entered senior year in high school."

Jungkook gives you a look. "Rude. I'm not that old."

The sass comes unexpectedly which makes you laugh out loud you almost choke on the fries.

You were just about to tease him some more when somebody approaches you both.

"U-uhm..."

When you both look at the girl, she's one from the group who was shamelessly looking towards your direction, which is obviously aimed at a specific someone by your side, Jungkook.

"Hi!" You greet cheerfully.

The girl blushes and then turns to Jungkook.

"O-oppa..." She utters, hesitant when she pulls something out of her skirt pocket. It's a small, crocheted sunflower.

You coo at the sight, looking at Jungkook in amusement. The man beside you just grow more uncomfortable in his seat. He looks so constipated, god bless him.

"My friend told me to give this to the eonni beside you."

Your smile is quickly wiped off your face the moment her words sink in, confusion slowly coming to paint your expression. You look at the girl but before you can say anything, she's already walking away as soon as Jungkook takes the crocheted flower from her. You watch as she and her friends ran, their figures slowly disappearing from your line of sight.

"Looks like you got admirers from Seoul High School." Jungkook quips beside you. "For the eonni beside me." He teases, extending the cute little flower to you.

Hesitantly, you take the flower from his hands.

"You know, it suits you." Jungkook says when you don't say anything, still stunned from the literal turn of events.

You look up, baffled. "Huh?"

"A sunflower. It suits you... you're like it." He smiles, soft and gentle. There's a look of fondness in his eyes that you couldn't have mistaken for anything else. "I'm glad they gave that to you."

You open your mouth to speak, but there's nothing at the tip of your tongue.

Shying away from his gaze, you mumble a low, "Thank you."

You don't think you hear his next word right.

"Cute."

You have a hobby of collecting hobbies instead of focusing on one thing to be good at, jumping from one activity to another, even if it means abandoning your previous thing. Hobbies for most people means time lent to be better with it every day, but in your defense, you don't necessarily think you have to be good at something.

You've tried drawing. You've tried dancing. You've tried the guitar and you've tried the ukelele and you've tried crocheting and you've tried to study astrology. You've built three huge boxes of storage containing the needed materials for each of them, but they end up collecting dust.

Why can't a hobby just stay as a hobby, anyway? Why can't you just feel goofy one day to suddenly start drawing and give up the next day the moment you realize shading is hard? Why can't you just buy dress patterns and only sew the skirt part because tops are complicated to sew? Why can't you just learn four guitar chords because it's enough to play at least five songs using them?

None of it matters, you think. People will pressure you to push and push until you can possibly capitalize on something you're good at, but it just isn't the case for you.

You'll collect all the hobbies in the world until your head is full of random things and you just burst with it.

And true to your words, you find yourself wandering about in the baking aisle of your local grocery store at the late evening hours.

Yep. It's 2028 and your hobby pick for the year is baking.

So, what if you're a disaster in the kitchen? Cooking and baking are two different worlds! At least that's what Google tried to tell you a while ago when you were cleaning your bathroom earlier this morning, suddenly craving for some matcha cookies after you were done.

It sounded about right in your head that you decided to pick up ingredients for it, deciding it will be your dinner. At the back of your head, you think you should've just gone to the hundred cafes surrounding your apartment complex like, you know, any regular person would if they're craving something. But you figured that if you know how to bake, you could get matcha cookies anytime you want.

What can you say? You like to live life on edge. (You'll probably burn yourself in the oven later, but that will just be another lesson that life is soon to give you. You're just taking it in advance.)

But living on edge doesn't mean getting your card declined when you turn it to the cashier to supposedly pay for your grocery.

"I'm so sorry, uhm, can I have a few seconds, please?" You tell the cashier, giving her an awkward smile as you grab your wallet from your tote bag again, taking your card from her. You take another one of your debit cards this time and offer it to her, subtly looking around in hopes that no one is watching.

"Oh, we don't accept debit cards issued by this bank, ma'am." She says, and you're just about ready to dig yourself a hole from this complete, utter embarrassment.

"Okay..." you trail off nervously, glancing at the computer to look at your total. "I'll just pay in cash."

You do not, in fact, have enough cash.

You can tell the cashier is getting impatient from the way she shifts her weight from one side to another, and you keep yourself from making eye contact with her, fumbling with your wallet.

Three hundred and sixty-five days in a year and your card chose to decline on this very particular day. Why don't they accept your debit card? And why don't you have enough cash with you? Are you really this broke?

This is going to be a disaster. You can't afford to go to prison for this. Can you even go to prison for not paying grocery? Okay, maybe jail time for like 12 hours? But you have work tomorrow!

"Excuse me, miss,"

Somebody says but you refused to look at whoever it was, still counting the bills in your wallet that do not even accumulate to half the amount of your total.

"You can charge her bill here."

At that, your head quickly snap to the owner of the voice only to reveal himself as no other than Jeon Jungkook.

You swear you almost sigh in relief at the sight of him and have the sudden urge to hug him big time.

Jungkook looks at you and gives you a smile.

"Hi."

"Jungkook," you breathe. "Thank god you're here."

The cashier looks at you both weirdly but nonetheless swipes the card Jungkook gave her., instructing him to type his code on the key pad. There's nobody in line for the cashier you went to other than you both because it is too late an hour to be getting groceries, so Jungkook is able to butt in seamlessly and get his cart checked out as well.

"You're very much welcome." He says warmly.

Jungkook's dressed just as casually as you; a combination of simple white t-shirt and shorts and a pair of sliders. His grocery contains a lot different than yours, showing all sorts of food ingredients. You wait for his stuff to get bagged until you both head out of the store.

His car was just parked nearby, so you follow him towards its direction to apologize.

"I'm so, so sorry for earlier. I'll pay you later when we get home, of course." You say, just now registering how embarrassing it is for him to catch you in that situation. You're no stranger to getting your card declined... but really, now?

You decide to add awkwardly, "Or... do you have Kakao Pay?"

Jungkook chuckles while he opens his trunk, picking up his bags of groceries to place them in there. He shakes his head, keeping his hand outstretched to upwards to hold the hood of his car.

"It's fine. Don't worry about it."

You're about to speak in protest when he gestures at the bag in your hands, as if asking you to place it in the trunk as well. You shake your head repeatedly.

"No, it's okay, I'm just gonna take a cab home." You say, pointing to your back where the street is, politely refusing his obvious offer to drive you home.

He's done too much in the span of ten minutes you've seen each other tonight. He's paid for your groceries for heaven's sake, and he still has the intention to drive you again to your destination? Not adding the fact that he also just drove you to work yesterday to keep you from being late. It's like he's just doing you heaps of favors and so far, you've done nothing in return.

"__, please, I'm offering." Jungkook insists. As usual. "I really don't mind."

Shoulders deflating, you let out a sigh.

"It's just that..." You start, nibbling on your bottom lip.

"What?"

"You've just been doing me a lot of favors lately." You say, looking away from his gaze.

Jungkook calls your name gently. You train your gaze at him. He steps closer to you and gives your shoulder a soft tap. "Hey, I'm not counting."

The words in itself aren't all that special, but the way he said it and the way he looked at you while he did may have just did a little damage to your heart because why did it seem so genuine?

Still, you shy away.

"It's just really embarrassing." You say, out of argument now.

Jungkook lets out a sound of amusement and takes the bag from your hands. He didn't even give you the chance to protest before he managed to put it successfully in the trunk of his car, together with his own groceries.

"Why don't you pay me back by helping me make dinner tonight?" Jungkook muses.

You give him a weird look.

"You really want me in a kitchen? Have you not listened to my horror stories this whole time, Jungkook?"

He laughs as he leads you both inside his car. You follow quietly behind but this time, you don't mistake the passenger seat from the driver's seat and instantly wear your seatbelt as soon as you're sat.

"I dunno, I'm just offering. I thought it'll be fun." He shrugs, turning on the ignition of the car and starting to drive back to the apartment building.

"Okay, I can at least chop some onions and garlic..." You trail off. And then you remember as an afterthought, "Oh, I'm actually baking tonight as well."

Jungkook takes a quick surprise glance at you. "You never told me you know how."

You snort. "I don't know how, trust me. I'm just starting right now."

"Is that why you went out grocery shopping tonight?" He arches a brow.

"Yep. Totally a spontaneous thing. I wanted, like, this very specific matcha cookie..."

Jungkook laughs. "Should I help you with the baking as well? I might learn from you."

"Really? You want to help?" You ask him delightfully.

He nods, making your grin wider.

"Sounds fun."

You both agreed to cook and bake at his place, partly because you personally are not ready for him to see your own flat. When you get inside his unit, Jungkook cutely bragged about his table set that just arrived earlier this morning according to him.

Personally, you've barely cooked at your own place let alone somebody else's. The one time you were in someone else's kitchen was Jimin's but even then, it was just to microwave some pizza and other take-out food.

It should feel weird to be prepping ingredients with someone, to move around the kitchen with the goal to make yourself a homecooked meal – especially with somebody like Jungkook – but truthfully, it felt almost... natural. Probably because you're conversing casually while you're doing things so there isn't any awkward silence.

You're making tangsuyuk, according to him, and he's obviously taking the lead – expertly prepping the meat while you go chop some spices needed for the dish.

"Is this okay?" You ask, showing him your work. You hope he likes it because you're kind of under a weird pressure to be in here, helping him. Also, you're not sure if you minced the garlic right.

But Jungkook just gives you a hearty smile.

"Good girl."

And goes back to what he's doing as if he just said nothing.

Which—okay, he seemed to have unconsciously said it that now you're gaslighting yourself whether you heard him right or not. Did he really say what you think he just said? What the fucking fuck.

Thankfully, Jungkook's too busy to notice that you become a bit frozen in your position for a good ten seconds. If he truly didn't mean to say that, he needs to get those words out of his vocabulary before he sends you in a sudden cardiac arrest. It'd be the most mysterious death of humanity.

"Do you need the carrots?" You ask, raising the vegetable in your hand.

Jungkook nods and you start to peel it. He watches by your side when you begin slicing the carrot.

"Cut them into Julienne slices."

"Huh?" You look back at him. "Not the cooking jargon, Kook." You deadpan, the nickname seamlessly coming out of your mouth.

He apologizes and tells you exactly what he meant. You furrow your brows in concentration to achieve what he wants, but Jungkook just laughs beside you.

"Okay, let me just—"

He's behind you a second after that, towering over your form and circling his arms around you. Your breath hitches as Jungkook places his hand on top of yours – the one that holds the knife – and begins to guide you through slicing the carrot.

You can feel his breathing from the proximity of your position, and even though there's still distance between the both of you, it's only hairsbreadth away and frankly, the ridges of the front of his body are so prominent against your back.

Jungkook does not seem to face the same internal panic as you though, because as soon as he deems that you are staring to get it, he steps back and let you do the thing on your own.

He leans back on the countertop, crossing his arms while looking at you.

"You're not so bad at this like you claimed." He comments.

You feel your cheeks heating up, so you focus your full attention on the carrot, your hands seemingly having developed a mind of their own throughout the time. Well, at least it's doing the right job. You can only hope you don't slice through your fingers... imagine cutting them right into this very moment.

"This is a trauma response from watching too much Gordon Ramsay."

Jungkook chuckles at your joke, shaking his head.

"We're just gonna wait for another thirty minutes for the meat and the mushroom. Should we start baking? What do we do first?" He says, washing his hands first before walking towards your direction.

You take your phone out from your pocket, looking at him a bit apologetically as you say "sorry" for pulling up Google. For the record, you haven't memorized shit and this is your first time baking.

Jungkook shakes his head, telling you there's no need for apologies because he "can't bake for shit" himself. That makes you feel relieved. You thought he's just good at a lot of things.

You don't encounter any trouble while mixing the dry ingredients, but when it comes to the wet ones, you think you've done something wrong. Jungkook tells you to try it. When you dip your finger into the mixture and taste it, you automatically scrunch your face.

"What, why?" Jungkook asks curiously.

"I don't think this is quite right..." You say, looking down at the mixture sadly.

"Mayve we can add more vanilla...?" He takes the bottle with him, ready to pour some into the bowl.

You pout. "But it says one teaspoon and we already put one teaspoon."

"What do you want to do?"

"I don't know... give up?"

Jungkook chuckles as he says your name.

You sigh. "Okay, maybe we'll try some that."

You do as you say, and as you taste it again, you're delighted to notice the elevated flavor. Mindlessly dipping your finger again into the bowl, you offer it to Jungkook to try.

The very act just sinks into your head when he leans down to suck it off your finger.

It happened quick, not at all sensual and slow like the movies make it out to be, but you feel your heart rate picking up at the feel after-effect of Jungkook's hot tongue touching your skin. But as you look at him, his eyebrows are furrowed, assessing the taste, not at all in a trance by what just happened.

"Oh, definitely better." He comments, as if he didn't just... suck your finger?

... Which you offered.

That he took willingly.

You turn away from him and pretend to busy yourself with the electric mixer, fumbling with the paddle.

"Are you cooking the tangsuyuk yet?" You ask, changing the subject. Jungkook is completely unaware of the current chaos in your head, walking towards the refrigerator to take out the pork he marinated earlier and the bowl of mushrooms.

"Just tell me if you need help." He tells you, touching the small of your back as he passes by you to get to the stove.

You feel your cheeks heating at the touch, moving aside to let him start frying the meat with the batter he's busied himself with awhile ago.

"Shit!" You say, surprised at the sudden whir of the machine. Jungkook quickly looks at you. You laugh and give him a thumbs up. "I'm fine here!"

You both work together on your own thing, and when you let the dough to rest, Jungkook, at the same time, finishes frying the meat of the tangsuyuk. You don't want to feel useless while you don't have anything to work on, so you peer over what Jungkook is doing and ask him if you there's anything he needs.

"Do you want to make the sauce?" Jungkook asks you. You scrunch your nose and hesitantly nod. He seems to notice your uncertainty and chuckles. "I'll teach you."

"Okay, but don't blame me if it tastes like shit later, okay?" You warn but he just shrugs and laugh, telling you that he'll talk you through the process and there's no need to be nervous. You can just experiment with it a little, he says.

You've watched a lot of Hell's Kitchen episodes that you have this silly, unrealistic expectation on what goes on in kitchens, but thankfully, Jungkook isn't like Gordon Ramsay at all and is so unbelievably gentle in teaching you even when you almost spilled soy sauce on the countertop and put too much vinegar than needed. He shrugs your worries off by fixing the thing, thankful that when he offers you the ladle to taste the sauce from it, it's more than decent.

While Jungkook prepares the tangsuyuk for your dinner, you take the time to form your cookie dough into small circles, leaving it in the oven to bake while you follow Jungkook into the living room and start eating the food that you cooked – or he cooked.

Jungkook teases you that you lied about not being good at cooking, but you have to remind him you didn't do shit and only the bare minimum. He looks like he's not convinced.

By the time that you're finished with your dinner, the oven's timer went off. Jungkook insists that he wash the dishes even though you feel like you should be the one doing it, but he tells you to check your cookies in the oven and so you did.

You're not expecting anything, but it will feel really good if it tastes at least okay.

Crossed fingers, your mind says as you take out the sheet pan.

First impression: it looks okay to the eye. Like real cookies.

But soon, your parade is rained on when you try to bite into the cookie.

It looks like real cookie, all right, but apparently doesn't taste like one.

Your face contorts into a frown as soon as you bite down into it a second time.

Okay, that's it. Put them in the tupperware as soon as possible, you thought. So, you do just that, placing all of the pieces into the plastic box and securing them away.

From where you were, you can hear Jungkook shutting the water off on the sink, his footsteps coming near you. Once he gets close, he peers down at what you're doing. Intrigued, he asks for one.

"No." you shake your head. The cookies are to be gatekept not because it's too good but because it should not be consumed at all. Jesus. You just ate Jungkook's tangsuyuk and it tasted exactly like the ones you've eaten from restaurants; it'd be such an embarrassing contrast to your own work.

"Don't be stingy," Jungkook playfully says, already making a move to reach for the cookies in your hands.

You hide the tupperware behind your back and stop him with your other free hand.

"Don't come closer. These cookies are not for consumption. Go away."

But he just arches a brow, walking a few steps forward.

"Jungkook!" You whine. "They don't taste good, and I'm embarrassed by them."

"Just one bite," Jungkook chuckles at you, not understanding your mortification. "Come on, __."

But you're stubborn and you won't let him have any of it even if he tries hard.

Jungkook is just as determined though, as he threatens to get closer and closer to you.

You squeaked out his name when he takes a hold of the tupperware but thankfully, you're quick on your reflex and able to take it back.

The whole thing prompts you to burst into laughter as you run around the island of his kitchen, giggling at the silliness of it all.

Your efforts to get away from him eventually go to waste as he managed to get ahold of your waist with his one arm, the other not missing the beat to steal the cookies from you.

He's firm over his hold, lifting you up while laughing against your head as you try to wriggle away.

"Let me have one bite, __," He says, and with his one arm, sits you on the countertop, not letting you go just yet even when you're fully sat.

You try to snatch the plastic from him but he's much quicker this time. When he opens it, you have no choice but to cover your face in embarrassment.

"I told you it's bad." You say, pouting at him, noting the expression on his face as he chews on the cookies that tells you it definitely does not taste good.

"You're a first timer." Jungkook just says, putting down the tupperware.

"Don't try to make me feel better." You frown even more.

"I'm not! I'm just pointing out that this is the first time you tried so of course it's not gonna be perfect right away?" He offers, some sort of comfort, maybe?

But your shoulders deflate because he's right.

Still.

Jungkook must have noticed your mood and tries to cheer you up one more time.

"Come on, you still made a really good tangsuyuk."

That makes you chuckle, unconsciously kicking his knee slightly making him let out an ingenuine, "Ow!"

You don't notice one of the straps of your spaghetti top falling off until Jungkook fixes it for you in the middle of your shared laughter.

"Thanks." You smile at him, mindlessly touching the strap, keeping it in place.

Jungkook hums as he helps you jump out of the kitchen counter.

The night ended with him walking you to your unit again, a rather silly thing he keeps on insisting to do. It's hard to put a name on it, but there's a certain feeling in your chest when you went out of Jungkook's apartment.

A feeling that lingers its way through when you receive a text from him after you come out of the shower that night.

Jungkook (Unit 446) [11:05pm]: good night chef

You fight off the smile that forces its way into your lips as you type out a reply.

You [11:06pm]: good night :)))))

Jungkook (Unit 446) [11:06pm]: i thought u already slept

You [11:07pm]: at 11oclock??? what do u think am i a grandma

Jungkook (Unit 446) [11:08pm]: fair Jungkook (Unit 446) [11:08pm]: but i had fun earlier. we should do it again sometime

You lie on your back, can't help yourself from letting a small giggle.

You [11:09pm]: jungkook-a You [11:09pm]: just tell me u wanna be with me??

You meant that as a joke, obviously. Just like how he joked about you one time over lunch about wanting to see him every day when you brought up the topic of not seeing him come out of his apartment. You did not mean anything by it other than friendly banter.

Jungkook (Unit 446) [11:10pm]: 🤔 Jungkook (Unit 446) [11:08pm]: that can be arranged. you can be my personal sous chef and I'll build us a restaurant

You [11:11pm]: sweet

Jungkook (Unit 446) [11:11pm]: you havent seen all, baby

Your lips part.

Okay...

Your relationship is absolutely platonic at best. But you can't help but think that he gets a little flirty at times... like the few moments in his kitchen earlier. Is it bad that you're thinking way too much about that specific memory of him licking your finger without thought? Of his strong arm effortlessly carrying you against his rigid body and putting you on the countertop, almost manhandling you? Is it bad you can't get the memory of him fixing your top out of your head?

His use of nickname ticks a little light at the back of your head, and you decide to poke the nest a little.

You [11:12pm]: really? what r u wearing right now

Just a little jokey-joke between friends and nothing more.

You don't even expect a reply to that, but your phone dings a second after, and when you open your message thread again, your jaw parts wider this time.

It's a picture of Jungkook lying his bed, his face cut off from the frame. But you know it's him from the arm that peeks out, his tattoos a familiar sight by now. The photo is taken at a low angle, just enough for you to see the sleeveless shirt he's sporting and the strings of his grey shorts.

You [11:14pm]: i meant that as a joke

Jungkook (Unit 446) [11:14pm]: 🥴

You do not know what he meant by that. You look for a picture to reply with, and the HAHA reaction is expected the moment you pressed send.

You [11:15pm]: stripper patrick says good night

Laughing silently at the meme you sent him which was Patrick from Spongebob wearing a pair of black fishnet tights and boots, you wait as three dots appear on Jungkook's line.

Jungkook (Unit 446) [11:15pm]: you're a minx

You chuckle, reacting to his message with an emoji and turn off your phone, almost throwing it on your nightstand and scrambling to bury your face in your pillow to let out a sound of a weird sob, but you're smiling your face off and your cheeks feel way too hot.

The truth of the matter is that you ended the conversation because you're afraid of where it's going.

Turning around, you lay on your back and stare at your ceiling, calming the beat of your heart and forcing your eyes to shut close.

But the picture Jungkook sent you keeps on popping up in your head, almost like those ads from shady websites on the internet, and when you think about it, it triggers a slur of memories that play like a picture in your head: his lips wrapped around your finger... his strong arm... his subtle touch on the small of your back...

"Ugh," you groan, slapping your hands over your face.

You furrow your brows to appear serious, thinking that it'll make you think of something serious as well, wrapping a blanket over your body and sighing when the technique doesn't work.

Okay, think of dogs... and puppies...but that's apparently a wrong move because now you're thinking of Jungkook with his dog.

You're obviously awful at this.

You turn on your bed once again, muffling a sound in your pillow.

But then as minutes passed, your restlessness continues to prevail and you're about to cry with the unknown frustration that sits at the back of your head.

Laying in silence for a while, your hand finds itself roaming over your body, your thumb catching your nipple through your thin top. You pinch the nub, experimental, until it turns into a pebbled rock in your touch.

You bite your bottom lip as your other hand trails down over your panties, running it around the waistband, down until you reach down, down, down to your core.

Your lips part when you feel its heat, two of your fingers starting to stroke where your nether lips were. You sigh at the sensation, squeezing at your boob and turning your head to the side, thinking about how good it feels.

Slowly, you reach down under your parties to part your lips, moaning at the wetness that welcomes you below.

You start to stroke gently with your middle finger, drawing figure eights over your core and making sure to put friction on your clit. The ministration produces more wetness in your cunt, and you spread it over for easier access inside as you start to poke into your hole.

"Oh my god," you mewled, breathing heavily against your pillow, pumping a finger into you. It's a little tight, and you remember you haven't touched yourself like this for over a few weeks now.

But god, how could you forget the feeling of it? The feeling of something going in and out of your cunt, gliding so smoothly because of the abundance of wetness all over.

"Fuck." you sigh out, lips parted, eyes closed to feel more of the sensation.

Your other hand reaches under your top to fondle with your boob, helping you stimulate yourself into that familiar feeling of great ecstasy that comes with your pussy getting touched.

It's starting to feel hot, and you can feel the beads of sweat starting to form on the side of your head even though the AC and your fan are both on. There's a zap that starts from your spine that comes with a sort of electricity coming from within, transferring that tick into your belly which prompts you to pump into your hole faster.

The sheets are a mess at this point, with your feet kicking into them as your movement picks up pace.

"Oh god," you cry out silently, muffling your sob in the comfort of your fluffy pillow.

You chase the feeling of completion, closing your eyes once more, trying to figure out how to get there.

And there's one familiar man that pops inside your head.

Jeon Jungkook.

"Oh shit," you hiss, pinching your nipple and going in and out faster.

Jungkook with his lips around your finger. Jungkook pressing his body against your back. Jungkook carrying you against his body. Jungkook's electric touch as he fixes the strap that's fallen over your naked shoulder.

You let out a pathetic moan, trying to shake away the thoughts of him.

You aren't supposed to. It feels wrong. So wrong.

Suddenly, you feel frustrated over still not reaching your climax up to this point.

You let out a heavy breath, pulling out your fingers from your pussy and from under your panties.

You don't get off. You never do – with your fingers, anyway, that is. And that's why you have a trusted toy buried deep at the back of the drawer of your nightstand, kept away for occasional uses. You'd say you need it right now, but you're too flushed and tired to take it out.

And there's also a melancholic feeling in your heart upon realizing that you just thought of Jungkook while touching yourself.

"Shit, shit, shit." You hiss, the cusses mostly dedicated to yourself.

You shake your head as you sit on the edge of your bed, your hair a bird's nest and clothes strewn over your body as per your reflection on the full-body mirror across your bed.

Sighing, you let your head down and massage your temples.

"God, what's wrong with me,"

You feel guilty... because you aren't supposed to think of a friend when you're trying to get off. You told yourself you'd stop finding Jungkook hot or cute or what-the-fuck-ever so that stupid crush can go away finally. But it feels like all your efforts – or lack, thereof – always seem to fall short.

This isn't good. You need to think straight.

A sudden loud ping catches your attention, almost startling you because it's in the middle of the night, after all. When you snap your head to the side, you see your phone with the light out.

You instantly feel a little nervous. What if it's Jungkook? There's an irrational fear in your head that he knows what you just did, but you shake the thought away, scolding yourself for getting way over your head.

Nibbling on your bottom lip, you feel scared to open your phone but then, did you really have a choice?

Slowly trudging to the direction of your phone, you pick it up from the table and turn it on.

August 18: Your cycle forecast Ovulation in 2 days. Your sex drive may just be hitting its peak🌡️ Tap for tips to make most out of it👉

"Oh fuck me." You curse, throwing your phone on the bed, feeling pissed all of the sudden.

Fucking period tracker app... and ovulation.

PART THREE | ...

#fic: nb #jungkook smut #jungkook angst #jungkook fluff #jungkook imagines #jungkook scenarios #jungkook fanfic #bts jungkook #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jeon jungkook #bts smut #bts imagines #bts scenarios #jeon jungkook x reader

953 notes · View notes

maplesyrupsainz · 7 months

Text

˖⁺｡˚⋆˙loyal!! | CL16˖⁺｡˚⋆˙

pairing: charles leclerc x sports commentator!reader y/n (she/her)

genre: social media au

warnings: none just fluff

summary: in which a certain someone tries his hardest to convert you to his team !!!

a/n: i barely know what a commentator does Tbh srry if thts problematic anyways enjoy 😃

request!!!: charles leclerc x sports commentator reader

fc: jules leblanc

my masterlist

instagram ->

yourusername📍 bahrain

liked by yoursister, yourbff, and 118,273 others

yourusername gp weekend!!! my first time covering f1 & had sm fun can't wait for the rest of the season :)))!!

view all 3,183 comments

user1 who is she

user2 a sports commentator

user3 ur so cool y/n what's ur favourite team in f1!!

yourusername 🫶🫶 im a mercedes girl :))

user4 SO REAL

user5 love to see more girlies on the paddock

yourbff go offffffff!! so proud

liked by yourusername

mercedesamgf1 🫶

yourusername 🙈🙈🙈

yourusername posted a story

liked by charles_leclerc, mercedesamgf1, and 77,018 others

user6 ahhhhh cant wait to see u this weekend

user7 new favvv

charles_leclerc sorry i missed you last week y/n, hope to meet you this weekend

yourusername oh for sure this time!!

user8 SO EXCITED

yourusername 📍 jeddah

liked by charles_leclerc, georgerussell63, and 204,321 others

yourusername my life is so fun!!

tagged: mercedesamgf1, charles_leclerc

view all 8,274 comments

user9 omg hi charles???

user10 merc girlieeee

charles_leclerc so nice to finally meet you y/n!

yourusername you too!!! had a great weekend!

user11 omg cuteee

user12 love seeing her become friends with drivers lol

user13 she's so beautiful omg

mercedesamgf1 thanks for visiting us!

yourusername omg thank you so much for the invite and the merch too im starstruck fr

user14 she's just like us

user15 charles is so yum

liked by yourusername

user16 not y/n liking this comment 💀💀💀

charles_leclerc posted a story

liked by yourbff, maxverstappen1, and 398,614 others

mercedesamgf1 back off leclerc she's ours

charles_leclerc we'll see about that

mercedesamgf1 😡😡

user17 OMG HELLO??

user18 looks suspiciously like a date

user19 yoohoooo

user20 what's going on here

messages ->

instagram ->

yourusername posted a story

liked by mercedesamgf1, lewishamilton, and 131,839 others

mercedesamgf1 🫶🫶

liked by yourusername

user21 obsessed

user22 CUTE GIRLLL

charles_leclerc boooooo 🍅🍅🍅🍅

yourusername im not sorry mr ferrari

charles_leclerc does our friendship mean nothing to you 💔

yourusername sooo dramatic!

charles_leclerc 📍 suzuka

liked by yourusername, carlossainz55, and 883,417 others

charles_leclerc some non race related adventures in japan 🇯🇵

tagged: pierregasly, yourusername

view all 14,273 comments

user23 omg y/n hellooo???

user24 posting each other on the grid how sus

user25 are they dating LOL

user26 surely not just hard launching immediately they met like a month ago ...

user27 she's everywhere

pierregasly glad to make it on the grid post 🫡

charles_leclerc because i look good in the picture

pierregasly oh.

user28 LOLLL

yourusername so fun!!! 😝

liked by charles_leclerc

user29 she calls everything fun

user30 she's rizzless 😔

yourusername 📍 shanghai

liked by charles_leclerc, yourbff, and 294,617 others

yourusername your fav merc girlies

tagged: yourbff

view all 12,193 comments

user31 she's so hot

user32 i'd do anything for her

user33 she's literally iconic

yourbff HOT HOT HOT 🥵

yourusername ur influence tbh i need to take u everywhere with me from now on

yourbff real. i am free everyday from now on

mercedesamgf1 we are here once again 🙏

yourusername WE LOVE UUU

yourbff fr we do

mercedesamgf1 blushing right now... 🥰

charles_leclerc take that hat off

yourusername never

charles_leclerc i sent you something much better

yourusername im not going to wear ferrari merch charles we've been over this!!

twitter ->

instagram ->

f1wagupdates 📍 miami

liked by yourbff, user34, user3, and 89,174 others

f1wagupdates starting off the grand prix weekend in miami with a sighting of charles leclerc with a mystery brunette 👀 thoughts?

view all 8,266 comments

user40 IT HAS TO BE Y/N

user41 y/bff/n liked omg

user42 who is that

user41 y/n's best friend!!

user43 omg charles and y/n this is NOT A DRILL

user44 NO WAY

user45 that is y/n. i've never been so sure of anything in my life

user46 our ferrari convert 😛

f1gossip 📍 emilia-romagna

liked by user40, user12, yourbff, and 104,418 others

f1gossip charles leclerc once again spotted looking cosy with a brunette girl, this time in italy. could this be y/n y/l/n?

view all 11,061 comments

user47 AGAIN

user48 why has it been crickets since miami 😭😭😭😭😭

user49 i need confirmation

user50 obsessed with y/bff/n liking all the posts about them

user51 they're doing all this in public but wont even post on instagram

user52 waiting for y/n to post selfies in ferrari merch

user53 no way that girl is mercedes thru & thru!!

user54 real

yourusername posted a story

liked by mercedesamgf1, georgerussell63, and 301,283 others

user55 that's our merc girl

mercedesamgf1 we knew you would always find your way back to us

yourusername i never left 😘

user56 loyal queen

charles_leclerc & here i was, thinking i made a ferrari fan out of you

yourusername maybe you should move to mercedes

charles_leclerc why would you joke about such things?!

lewishamilton our girl

liked by yourusername

georgerussell63 i bet charles is so jealous right now

yourusername he's mad because i told him to switch teams

georgerussell63 🫣🫣🫣

charles_leclerc posted a story

liked by yourusername, landonorris, and 683,912 others

user57 this is a confirmation in my eyes

user58 this is not a "just friends" type of post

user59 in monaco with her🥹🥹🥹

user60 she doesn't even know she's mrs ferrari now

yourbff wtf she's beautiful

charles_leclerc you're telling me

yourusername 📍 monaco

liked by charles_leclerc, georgerussell63, and 532,718 others

yourusername 🌹

tagged: yourbff, charles_leclerc

view all 12,328 comments

user61 THEY'RE SO DATING

user62 THE ROSE

user63 omg she even drives a mercedes

user64 a regular ass commentator friends w drivers or not would NOT be posting this type of thing unless she was DATING CHARLES LECLERC!!!

yourbff beautiful

yourusername ❤️

charles_leclerc ferrari red 🏎️❤️

yourusername 🤔 i'll let you have this one

charles_leclerc i won!!!

yourbff mercedes 1238 - 1 ferrari

mercedesamgf1 😛😛😛

user65 i think it's obvious guys

yourbff posted a story

liked by charles_leclerc, carlossainz55, and 55,203 others

charles_leclerc that's my girl 😂

yourbff expose her

charles_leclerc 👀

yourusername ARE YOU TRYING TO EXPOSE ME

yourbff you expose yourself!!!

mercedesamgf1 oh???

yourbff dont worry about it!

user66 is that our merc girlie y/n ?!?!!

charles_leclerc

liked by yourbff, scuderiaferrari, and 891,374 others

charles_leclerc my favourite ferrari fan ❤️

tagged: yourusername

view all 18,294 comments

user67 LOL no way

user68 she's just a girl ok she couldn't resist forever !!!

mercedesamgf1 no way...

yourusername i still love you guys i swear

georgerussell63 i gasped out loud

yourusername NO PLEASE LOOK AWAY

lewishamilton wow

yourusername IM SORRY

user69 poor y/n fighting for her life in the comments

scuderiaferrari she looks good in red 🌹

liked by charles_leclerc, yourusername

yourusername you're finished!!!!!

charles_leclerc yea yea sure, see you at home

user70 HOME!? 🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹

THE END ❤️

2K notes · View notes

hazbinhotelxreader · 8 months

Text

Velvette x female model reader smut

“Good Job Doll~”

A/n: damn yall like these writing huh? Well I ain’t stopping you lol! I hope this was alright!

(Requested by: egg boi on AO3)

Warning: mean/soft velvette, bottom reader, fingering, rough sex, voice kink, hair tugging(light), cussing, touching bodies sexually without permission, praise kink, soft sex, eating someone out, gay sex

You were a model for velvette. Just a girl trying to make some cash, well you thought. It turns out your velvettes ‘favorite’ model. She’s always making excuses and firing her other models so your her main focus. At first you honestly thought it was just a friendship thing, but you slowly started to realize it wasn’t, it was more….sexual.

It started off with simple touches and praises, playing with your hair or touching your curves playfully, then it got more demanding. And her words sounded more sexual and suggestive. You didn’t mind it though, you kinda enjoyed the attention from the young overlord, she never failed to make you blush.

One day she came into the dressing room with you and handed you an outfit. “Try this on please darling, I need to see how absolutely stunning you’ll look in it.” She flirted lightly. She handed you a short dress that had her signature colors.

“Yes ma’am.” You obey your boss. You strip off your clothes, getting undressed in front of her was normal for all the models. Velvette was scanning and looking at every inch of your body secretly as you put the short dress on.

She walked over to you and smirked. “Oh it looks gorgeous! We have to take a picture” she said and pulled out her phone for a selfie, wrapping her arm around your waist tightly, making you blush. She takes the picture and giggled a little. “Oh you look so adorable in this picture!”

“Thank you..” you say sheepishly. She seemed to notice your nervousness and smirked.

“Oh come now dear, your gorgeous. In fact. I can show you how gorgeous you truly are~” she said seductively as she traced your breasts. You couldn’t help but blush, even if this was normal. Before you could speak up she grabbed your hips and forced you onto the vanity.

“What are you doing?” You ask Velvette, blushing intensely.

“Giving you an award for your hard work dear~” she said seductively, her accent felt so nice to hear with that tone..you didn’t try to get away or anything..you stayed there, you couldn’t help but admit you wanted it..and velvette noticed.

“Oh? You’re a good girl aren’t you? Allowing your hot, stunning boss to award you~?” Velvette smirked and started to grope your breast, causing you to let out a soft gasp in pleasure. “There we go..” Velvette smirked, and didn’t hold back. She started to kiss you hungrily, she’s been waiting for this moment for so long, and she finally had you at her mercy.

You moan and kiss back, carefully caressing her face as she did so. Velvette’s tongue forcefully entered your mouth and you moaned and closed your eyes, your tongues swirling and intertwining together. She pulled away, strands of saliva connecting your lips, and looked at your body more.

You pant at the kiss, trying to catch your breath but she started to kiss you again more tough, causing you to tug and keep a tight grasp on her hair and whimper. She chuckled lightly at the whimper, loving the soft noises you made.

She moved fast, pushing you all the way up to the vanity mirror with how much force she was using to kiss you, eventually open mouth kissing, your tongues still mixing together. She finally pulled away, allowing you to catch your breath, but not for long. She immediately got on her knees and put her head under the dress she made you put on earlier. You blush and spoke up. “U-uh what are you doing..?”

“Oh don’t worry dear..I’m just treating you with your reward..it won’t hurt..that much.” She looked up at you one last time and then went back under your dress..pulling your panties off. You blush out of embarrassment and arousal, as Velvette chuckles at your already fully aroused pussy. “Oh such a good girl..so ready for me…”

She kissed your thighs and trialed up them to your throbbing and needy cunt, you let out a whiny and needy moan, hands threatening to grasp her hair again. “Please Velvette..”. You beg.

“Call me ma’am.” She demanded before she could continue, she wanted you to still call her ma’am, it did make her feel more in control.

“Please ma’am..please..” you beg again, leaning your head against the vanity’s mirror.

“Please what?” She looked up from under the dress, smirking, she lived playing with you..she found it amusing.

“Please let me cum..please” you begged whiningly. That was enough to satisfy Velvette, as she planted her skilled mouth onto your wet and ready pussy. You let out a gasp and arch your back and hips off the vanity, hands clinging onto the vanity’s edge, you moan and forced your hips into her face more.

She moaned against your pussy, tasting your sweet nectar, it sent vibrations through you that made you shiver and moan. She used one of her hands to push your legs apart more, and the other was teasing your soaked entrance. You were left begging and pleading for her to enter you.

You gasp as she thrusted three fingers in at first into your tight little pussy. She was desperate. She has been wanting to do this for a long time to you. She thrusted in and out more roughly, but not enough to cause severe pain. You let out quiet cry’s and yelps, your eyes rolling back as she found your g-spot and hit it repeatedly with her skilled fingers. “In so close…” you whispered and panted softly.

“That’s it..be a good girl and cum for me..” veovette said, thrusting her fingers rougher and rougher. You let out a longer cry as you cum onto her fingers. She quickly licked the white liquid off of herself, and then placed her mouth on your entrance, milking out every last drop of cum. You pant. Your body quivering out of ecstasy. You opened your cloudy eyes and looked down at her. She stands up and licks her slightly cum covered face, then smirked back at you.

“Good job, doll~”

#hazbin vaggie #hazbin charlie #hazbin hotel rosie #hazbin angel dust #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin husk #angel x husk #human reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin art #hazbin lucifer #hazbin vox #velvette x reader smut #velvette x reader #hazbin hotel velvette

1K notes · View notes

bloomocha · 2 months

Text

❝ 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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