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tokyoghoose · 4 years

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am i more than you bargained for?

pairing: tetsuro kuroo x reader

playlist: heather - conan gray*, 4ever - clairo, line without a hook - ricky montgomery, melting - kali uchis, slow dancing in the dark - joji, using you - mars argo, she - ed sheeran, make you feel my love - adele, letter home - childish gambino, she's casual - the hunna, i love you so - the walters, notice me (acoustic) - role model, red dress - postcard boy

warnings: angst and lots of it, mentions of sex, mentions self-shaming of image, very breif mention of anxiety attacks

summary: a romantic comedy without the comedy between friends with benefits

announcements!

kuroo is definitely a little ooc in this lmao buuuut this is my first like fic fic in like two years. Im still trying to get back in the groove of things and finding how to write personality again and not be repetitive with my wording. Feedback is welcome!

requests are open! feel free to send them in! i will write for pretty much any anime ive seen and if i haven't seen it, ill watch it! the only reasons i wouldn't is if im uncomfortable or can't write the character. :)

——————

When did relationships become so difficult? The days of making friends on the playground were over and it seemed to hit everyone at the same age. Life was getting harder and people were getting older, and suddenly everything was difficult. Nothing came easy anymore and everyone had to adjust to that.

But now you were just confused.

Tetsuro kuroo stuck to you like glue since middle school. Where one of you went the other was likely to follow. The righthand man, the double trouble duo, and the bane of kenma's existence. And then things got complicated. Strangers to friends to best friends to lovers— friends with benefits. Who would've thought the boy that you played volleyball with on a whim would've become the man who you grew fond of. Sixth grade you would've kicked yourself for the feelings you're experiencing. Oh how you wished you were back in the park that started it all. You wished you could warn your youngerself what's to come.

The realization hit you like a ton of bricks and it made you want to throw up at the thought.

It started in the first year of highschool when you suddenly noticed the shine in his eyes when he talked passionately about something like volleyball or the way he would furrow his brows when concentrated on his assignments. At first it was endearing, really. But the more you hung around him, the stronger the butterflies felt. It was obvious that he had grown into his lanky body. His legs were proportionate to his torso now and his once scrawny arms didn't hang limply at his sides anymore. He had muscle and height now. Gradually you started to notice little things about him that you would never have seen in other people. Like his lopsidded smile that crinkled the corner of his eyes and brought heat to your cheeks, your stomach launching into your chest when he'd bump shoulders and laugh.

You should've just smacked yourself silly then and there when you started to wonder if he noticed little things about you. Does he think of me like i think of him?

Who knew feelings could be so...perplexing. You moved on, shrugging off the crush in your second year to catch bigger and better fish in the sea. Life moved on and you dated other people, simply remaining friends with kuroo. Little did you know one heartbreak would lead you into his bed, playing in the sheets by the end of the year.

He was just so damn compelling. His laughter and his jokes. You fell for it all over again. Deja vu. Stupid kuroo.

———

The third of highschool had been the breaking point. It was a constant cycle of feeling, fucking, and falling in and out of love with the raven haired boy. It was frustrating, especially when he was so damn oblivious. The only person that seemed to catch on was kenma, but he was very little help when it came to pushing away the domestic thoughts. It would never just work out because you wanted it to because tetsuro was dumb.

It's a chilly day out, the sun nice against your skin but the wind was drastic in comparison. Shivers are sent up and down your spine, you wrap your arms around yourself in a hug. Could this boy take any longer? Foot tapping against the pavement, you heave a sigh, nostils flaring impatiently before you spot the tall athlete. With a girl. A girl?

You'd seen her around before and you vaguely remember thinking she resembled the main love interest in a 90s movie or a bratz doll. She's pretty and has a light, airy laugh. Kuroo must've told her a joke of some kind, but he definitely wasn't funny enough for her to have her hands all over his chest. He's giving her a toothy grin and soft eyes. It makes you want to gag.

Who was she anyway?

Not that it mattered because in that moment the fit of rage your body suddenly flug itself into prevented you from hearing anything. Kuroo's pulling off his pullover and drapping it over the pretty girl's shoulders. You can feel your eye twitch and fibgers tingle. He looks bashful as he waves her goodbye and tragically, you don't feel nearly as pretty as you had been feeling. Now all you wanted to do was sink into the ground below you and possibly into another dimension—or at least the other side of the world.

"She's pretty," is the first thing that comes out of your mouth when he comes over, slouching with his hands in the pockets of his shorts. He had practice this afternoon, you remember. He looks over at you with raised brows, almost like he's surprised yoy said anything or even noticed he was talking to another girl before walking towards the gym with you trailing close behind.

"Yeah she is, I guess."

She's prettier than me.

"You guess? Kuroo, you gave her your sweater."

He shrugs sheepishly, a light pink dusting his cheeks and it makes you mad of uncharacteristic the act is. You resist the urge to roll your eyes.

"It's just polyester. It's not a big deal."

The conversation suddenly drops as you pause, apparently very hurt that he didn't remember it was you who gave him the sweater in the first place. He turns around, a questioning look on his face.

"What? Are you jealous?" He teases.

You're fuming at his attempt to be playful. Maybe you were overreacting, but it pangs your chest to know he can brush it off so easily.

" Kuroo, that was my sweater. "

It's gritted through your teeth, eyes slotted into a glare and his face drops. Oh is all he can think as he stares at you and the hurt expression that quickly turns into that of annoyance and anger. You push past him, ultimately deciding not to walk him to the gym. His arm reaches out to catch you, but it falls short as he calls out in a whine, "I'll get it back for you, okay? Come on, y/n!"

———

You can't focus on the assignments in front of you no matter how hard you try. You are exsausted. Just wanting to crawl under the covers and sleep for maybe a thousand years, you stop tapping your oen against the paper to hyperfocus on the black dots that now littered the page. The music in the background pauses before coming back to life with the hum of a new song shuffling in. It's quiet and yet, it's overwhelming. You wish you weren't home alone now.

Hanging your head low on your desk, the carpet becoming of interest, you groan. The image of kuroo and that girl replaying in your head over and over like an endless movie. You'd have to give it a bad review if it ever ended.

You're focus is mainly on her though. Kuroo could get any girl he wants with his witt and charm. Not to mention he wasn't jusf handsome, but he's beautiful. Model material—movie character love interest type beat. He has the ability to make any heart swoon if he tries hadd enough, and that girl was no exception. She was more than pretty. She was stunning, even. It was like watching human barbie and ken flirt with one another. She seems so nice too and you can vaguely remember her helping you wish a couple answers on homework one morning. She's better than you and better for him. Is he sleeping with her too? Before you can answer your own question the doorbell rings, quickly followed by a knock at your door.

You look down at your pajamas, debating if you should pull on your robe or not, but ultimately deciding against it when the knocks come again.

"Im coming, I'm coming. What do you wan- kuroo?"

When you open the door, you immediately get the urge to shut it right in his perfect little face, and you begin to before his hand slams against it in protest to push it open wider. He juts out his lip into a pout and his eyes soften into ones pleading like a puppy dog. You huff and avoid eye contact, instead taking intrest in the bad he was carrying.

"What's that?"

"Stuff. I'd be happy to show you if you let me in."

"Sorry, tetsuro, no can do. You haven't returned my sweater. "

He scoffs and rolls his eyes before shoving something bulky into your arms. You're not sure if you should be happy he actually got it back or upset that he had to see her again to get it. Finally looking up at him, you move to the side so he can step in.

"You know, you don't have to be jealous that i gave another girl a sweater. You're my number one, y/n." He's teasing, but his words still send the butterflies in your stomach crazy. You can only hope he means it, even if just a little.

"I'm not jealous. You can sleep with whoever you want, kuroo. We're just best friends—if anything im your wingman. "

You want to hit yourself on the head. Why would you say that?

He snickers at the rebuttle, coming to loom over you. Apparently the only thing that can get you out of your head is his cologne because it somehow invaded your senses. He smells expensive, like nice leather and fire wood during the winter. It's very manly, you note. His shadow hovers over yours as he traps you between him and the counter with a playful smirk on his face. How smug could he get. He leans down, bringing your chin up between his thumb and finger. You hadn't realized how close he was until now. Since when did you get so nervous around him? Why did it make you nervous when he kissed you all of a sudden? It's unfair that he holds the advantage. Heat rises to your cheeks and the tips of your ears and you're positive he can hear the beating of your heart, which was currently trying to break out of your chest.

His lips take you to paradise, as always. Their soft against your own, yet firm. They're slightly chapped and they taste like spearmint. It makes your head fuzzy because they feel so right, even when you wish they felt wrong. You want to pull away and kick him out, and end thjs whole arrangement, but you're already very familiar with the fact it's just beginning.

———

The bed is warm. So warm, in fact, it feels like your suffocating. The sheets tangle around your limbs, strangling you as you tangle your limbs around kuroos. You almost want to cry, and if you were anywhere else— with anyone else —you probably would have. The heat is unbearable and the one sided tension makes your stomach churn and your throat tighten up. You were almost positve an anxiety attack was coming on.

Taking a deep breath through your nose, you close your eyes as kuroo's nimble fingers soothe circles into your shoulder blade idly and yet somehow he manages to dodge the purple and red splotches blooming on the flesh. Suddenly you wish you didn't feel so safe and protected in his embrace. The moment almost tempts you to whisper sweet nothings into his ear, but you don't deserve to be the person who does that because you aren't his person. Best friend, maybe (next to Kenma, if anything) but, you aren't his person no matter how you long to be. You're just a friend in his bed having a good time. It isn't as fun anymore.

You swallow a lump in your throat, flattening your hand against his broad chest and willing yourself to lift up out of his grasp, his fingers falling smoothly to stop between your shoulder blades. Looking down at him, he presents you with the soft, goofy look on his face that he always adorns. God, there's nothing you wouldn't give to wake up beside him every morning and kiss that lopsided grin off his face. It hurts to think about, and another wave of tears try to force their way past your lash line. You blink them away and put on a soft, one-sided smile for the man below you, giving him a quick peck where his jaw and neck meet before shrugging his hands off and climbing out of bed.

His eyes track you, lazily hooded and watching, as you take the sheet with you to cover yourself, grabbing your shorts and whatever top you were wearing but a few hours ago before everything was strewn about. You shy away from his gaze, but it's nothing he hasn't seen before. He shifts in the bed to face your back, elbow propped up to lay his head in his hand. With an uncharacteristically soft tone, you almosf don't head him when he speaks. The words that come from him are like honey, yet raw. It's enough to make anyones knees buckle and crawl back into bed.

"Are you okay?"

There's a slight hint of concern there, just hardlg scrapping the surface of the question. You nod with a hum, throwing on the loose shirt before facing him. Kuroo's brow raises like he doesn't quite believe you, but he doesn't take the question further and instead turns to get out of bed. You gnaw at your lip, taking your turn to watch him stretch out. His back has red streaks messily placed down it from his shoulders to the base, his biceps matching. His hair is messy and not like the normal bed head he sports, parts of it are spiked up from fingers constantly pushing through it, while other parts are laid flat from sweat. You can't help the thought that he's sculpted by the gods. They definitely took their time on him. Scoffing at yourself and shaking the thoughts free from your head, you head to the bathroom. As if the bed wasn't suffocating enough, just being the same room was found to be worse when he looks like that. At this point, it was preferred he stayed under the covers.

You feel stupid while looking in the mirror. Your mascara from earlier had smudged beneath your waterline, clumping together in the corner. Your nose curls at the sight, hands splashing cool water at your face, rubbing at your eyes. With a sigh you lean your elbows on the sink, pushing back hair and looking down at the water going into the drain.

This is ridiculous.

How on earth could you do this to yourself and to kuroo?

There's a knock on the bathroom door, it's light and gentle in the typical kuroo fashion because he doesn't want to spook you. You purse your lips, digging the palms of your hands into your eyes and heaving a sigh. As soon as you open the door and switch places, you're up and out of his apartment without saying goodbye.

The cool air of outside hits your face and you hadn't noticed the tears until the damp chill shook you. Brushing them away, you head home. You didn't want to be around him and you certainly didn't want to think about him. On the way back, you finally decided you weren't going to tell him anything. What would dumb tetsuro know about it anyway.

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vantaestummy · 5 years

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this is so random but could you please please please write one where yoongi just involuntarily,,, pukes on joon?? maybe theyre sharing a bed for whatever reason and yoongi is queasy or maybe theyre crammed in the backseat of the car together and yoongi cant really lean anywhere else except for over their laps?? it can be short i don't mind i just really want to read this and you're my favorite writer. thank you so much i hope you're doing well and you're taking care of yourself

A/N: YES OMFG! Omg you are so sweet. I read this prompt and had to write it cus i really love it. If you are still waiting on a request, it will get done lmao. I promise. Enjoy anon! And thank you sm ❤︎❤︎❤︎

TW///emeto, mentions of anxiety

--------------------------------

Bang P.D. has not been too happy with the last few tracks that Yoongi and Namjoon have recorded.

Something about how it just wasn’t… them. How the music didn’t come from their souls, their expepriences, their lives. The music they were making wasn’t true. Built and made through computer applications that have no true meaning. So here they were, Yoongi and Namjoon, sitting on top of Namjoon’s bed while the other boys were out, working and editing track after track, song after song. Writing and writing until the sun lit the horizon.

Yoongi’s laptop was burning into the skin of his thighs, its heat making him all too uncomfortable. His stomach was already churning with anxiety, not being able to meet anyone’s expectations. It was unnerving as it was frustrating, and the dinner that Namjoon had made wasn’t sitting too well, all thanks to the ever present worry and fret.

Namjoon squints at the screen of his laptop, pushing his glasses higher onto the bridge of his nose as he clicks away at the keyboard. Yoongi intakes a deep breath, a desperate attempt to quell the nausea in his swirling belly. He starts to rub his aching tummy, biting the flesh of his bottom lip as the screen of his laptop blurs in the midst of his vision.

Namjoon looks up. “Hey hyung, you good?”

Yoongi swallows thickly, his throat on fire. “Yeah, just, sleepy.” The eldest rapper says as he removes his headphones. He feels almost motion sick, the endless onslaught of his troubling thoughts making the queasiness within him growing and growing.

Namjoon just hums, still clicking and clacking. Yoongi stifles a belch through the cloth that covers his knees, burying his face into the crook of his arms as he pullls his legs in. It’s quiet for a moment, with the exception of Namjoon’s keyboard, before the younger ruffles the oldest rapper’s hair.

“Why are you hiding kitten?” Namjoon teases. Yoongi wants to fight him but, he won’t. Not not. Not when his stomach is acting up. Not when his anxiety is running amok.

Even though they’ve already debuted, can P.D. make them disband earlier than their contract has called for? What if these songs aren’t good enough? What if P.D. gets tired of them? What if he cancels all of their performances and interviews?

What if in a flash, everything they’ve ever worked for, turns to dust?

Yoongi feels a wet splash of dinner at the very base of his throat before his body constricts. He needs a bathroom, now.

“Hyung? What was that sound? Hyung.”

Namjoon pulls at Yoongi’s arms lightly, but unfortunately, it’s just enough for Yoongi’s resolve to come tumbling down. With a painful squelch, a colorful stream of bile spills from Yoongi’s lips, plummeting into Namjoon’s lap, as well as the bedsheets before plopping to the floorboards.

“Hyung.”

Namjoon quickly ignores the grotesque warmth in his lap in order to grab at Yoongi’s fringe, a hand on his cheek as he guides the eldest rapper to face the floor.

“Let it out baby, it’s okay.”

Yoongi whimpers, a few tears leaking from his eyes as he gives a silent but harsh gag, one that has another stream of puke pouring to the floor, draping along the bedsheets as it does so. It hurts, everything does. Yoongi’s insides feel like they’re burning but the calm hand on his back helps to soothe some of his anxiousness, as well as his pain.

“Baby, why didn’t tell me you were feeling sick? Was it the food? I feel fine I don’t know how—"

“No... the food was fine, surprisingly.” Namjoon scoffs as Yoongi sticks his tongue out, annoyed with the disgusting and rancid taste in his mouth. Even when he’s feeling ill, the oldest rapper in the group still has the best disses.

Yoongi is left, coughing and gagging wetly but helplessly. Namjoon gives the older’s bicep a gentle squeeze. “I’m sorry I... this whole thing just... I feel so fucking worthless. What if Bang hates what we makes? What if he gives up on us? What if—"

“Hey, hey.”

Namjoon cups Yoongi’s red cheek, the skin there a bit swollen and far too warm to be normal. “You need to stop this hyung. Bang didn’t just pick us out of nowhere. He saw something in us. He saw potential in us. He believes in us. Maybe we’ve been in a writing funk lately, but who cares? We’ve been so caught up in the throw of things that we forgot what it meant to truly make music. He may have been disappointed but he will never give up on us. And more importantly, you can’t give up on yourself.”

Yoongi would never admit it, but yeah he’s crying, and he’s covered in puke. They both are. He feels pretty pathetic right now but, there’s a tiny sliver of hope, one that sparkles in his heart. A hope so strong that, he feels a little bit better, and the nausea has slowly drained itself from his body, along with the vomit.

“Thanks Joon...”

Namjoon caresses the apple of Yoongi’s cheek with the padding of his thumb. He smiles.

“Of course. Now, maybe we should shower first, and then get back to work.”

Yeah, Yoongi still wants to fight Namjoon.

—————————————

A/N: it was short i know lol. don’t kill meh. more requests to come! ❤︎

#bts sickfic #sick bts #sickfic #bts emeto #emeto #sick #my fic #tw emeto #sick!yoongi #caretaker!namjoon #sick!namgi #tw anxiety

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