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Literature Text
"Come on, ______. Give it a shot," your friend implored on the other line, "It's been four months since you got dumped, and despite trying to fool everyone, I know you're lonely. This guy is great -he's helped me on numerous occasions."
You scrutinized the white, paper square between your fingers, your thumb running across the black, embossed ink. (F/N) had given you the business card two days ago, after you had made some off-the-cuff comment about your Ex. It was a mistake that lead you into a stammering mess -that you didn't really miss him, and that you were over it.
Your darling, best friend wasn't buying and handed you the mysterious card with a sly grin.
"He's like a therapist or something?" Your eyes squinted. "Kuroo Tetsurou?"
A knowing giggle tickled your ear, "Sure. Something like that. Just trust me, okay? And if you don't call him, then I will. I expect details in the morning."
Before you could even form the words to protest, the line went dead. You brought the phone down slowly, the ironic caller I.D of her tongue sticking out at you vanishing within seconds.
Your teeth sunk into your lip, flipping the card around in search for some form of business description you may have missed. You wondered how your friend could expect you to be comfortable with calling a stranger in the middle of the night, and with no knowledge of his profession. Her vague explanation made it worse, but it also made you all the more curious.
Mainly, because you were lonely and you did miss your Ex. Your impression of the relationship was solid, you were both happy, but apparently he "just didn't find you interesting or exciting enough anymore." It hurt --Dear God, it hurt to hear from the man you thought you were falling in love with.
Your gaze flickered between the business card and your cellphone alternately, thumb hovering over the keypad. With a deep breath and one eye squeezed shut, you dialed the number swiftly and before you could talk yourself out of it. Your heart slammed against your chest, hesitant to bring the device to your ear as it rang.
Each ring seemed to drone on for an eternity, your stomach rolling anxiously at each purr. Just as you were about to chicken out, the line clicked on,
"Yeah?"
You gasped, "K-Kuroo T-Testsurou?"
"Speaking."
His voice was like a deep, lackadaisical hum, but there was also a tinge of amusement to his tone. Suddenly you couldn't form words, your mind trailing through all the possibilities of his appearance, and all the while feeling utterly ridiculous for calling in the first place.
An airy chuckle startled you, "You need some company?"
The question caught you off guard and, before you could even stop yourself, "Yes" came spluttering out, along with your whereabouts and apartment number. As if you'd snapped out of a trance, you hung up the phone with a start and flailed it onto the sofa cushion next to you.
What had you just done?
You told yourself that you needed to calm down; that you were worried over nothing. Your life wasn't in danger, (F/N) wouldn't had referred you to this guy if it were the case and, if anything, perhaps he was just a friend for hire? Worst case scenario, if he was just a weirdo, you could ask him to leave. Right?
Your fingers slid through your hair and clutched onto your cranium. Jesus Christ, what if you just called a stripper? You could hear your friend now, cackling mischievously in her bedroom. She was always trying to break you of your everyday comforts, and now you had allowed her to succeed in that mission.
"I have to cancel," as if it required being said aloud.
No sooner did you reach for your cellphone, a knock also rapped at your door. You stared at it, frozen and forgetting to breath. It crossed your mind to ignore it, but you realized how insensitive and rude that might be. After all, the man at your door had stopped whatever he was doing to come to you, a stranger, and you felt traces of appreciation for that.
Even if he was just a stripper.
You padded tentatively toward the toward, hand curling around the knob painstakingly slow. You swallowed every ounce of your nerves and pulled it open just enough to take a peek. Your gaze trailed up the length of him, eyes widening inch by inch until they rested on his handsome, smirking face and a mess of hair. Feline, hazel eyes peered back at you, a dark brow ever-so-slightly cocked in smug amusement.
"Hey there."
You didn't know whether you were thanking your friend or cursing her.
His hands slid out from his dark, denim pants and offered one to you, "Kuroo."
The crack in the door grew and your hand enveloped his, the heat of his palm carrying itself into the apples of your cheeks.
"_________," you answered sheepishly, lips pressed tightly together to suppress a stupefied grin.
Kuroo's smirk increased, revealing a sliver of white teeth. "We gonna shake hands all night, or are you gonna let me in?"
Your brows shot up and you clumsily retracted your hand against your breasts. A small apology squeaked it's way out and you stepped aside to allow the man inside. His hands found their way back into his pockets before he sauntered into your apartment, eyes wandering.
Your back remained flush against the door for a moment, watching his tall, lankily muscular form stroll around the living room. It seemed to you he was dressed too casually to be a stripper, your uninformed impression being that they were usually dressed in a uniform of some kind, not jeans and t-shirt. And, unless he was going to dance to your selection of music, he hadn't come prepared with a boombox.
"Nice place, ________."
Kuroo's head tilted over his shoulder lazily and he grinned.
You cleared your throat and wrung your hands, "Thanks. Um, do you want something to drink maybe?"
It seemed impossible for his lips to spread any further and with any less slyness. He simply shook his head, "Nah, but you go ahead."
You were parched, but you couldn't bring yourself to move.
"Listen," you started, nearly jumping when he turned to face you. His lips pursed, making it much harder on you to concentrate than his previously dauntless expression. You blushed and averted your eyes to the floor, continuing after a gulp, "I-I don't really... I mean, what is it that you do exactly?"
"Eh?"
Unintentionally, your lids scrunched, "My friend gave me your card. I only really called out of curiosity, and I guess it slipped my mind to ask you over the phone," you paused, mentally shaking you head at your own blabbering. "I-It's just that... She can be kind of... promiscuous, when I'm just--"
"Not?"
You nodded, and dared to peek at him. Your expression fell, crimson spreading through you like wildfire at the sight of his naked torso, his shirt discarded over the back on the sofa. You pressed yourself further into the door, your mouth stammering wordlessly, his hands moving to his belt buckle.
The corner of his mouth stretched confidently, "Maybe you should give it a shot."
"You are a stripper!"
"Guess again."
The wind was knocked out of you in realization, "You're a prostitute?!"
He shrugged nonchalantly, "I prefer 'Hired Company'."
You were rigid, choking on a slew of gasps and incoherent words while you skin burned; if you smushed yourself any closer the door, it would surely splinter under the pressure. The only comprehensible thought you could muster was how you would make your friend suffer for this.
"This is... a huge misunderstanding," you spluttered.
"Hey, it's okay if you're shy. We can go at any pace -I'm flexible."
"Th-that's... It's not happening!"
"Huh? What's the big deal? You a virgin or something?"
You inhaled sharply, "What? How dare you! That's none of your business!"
Again, Kuroo grinned, "You are."
You pressed your trembling lips together into a grimacing frown, and unexpectedly, tears welled up around the rims of your eyes. You had just wanted to do the right thing, you didn't want to give it away to just anybody, and it may have been the reason your boyfriend left you in the first place.
Add the frustratingly nonsensical situation, and you couldn't help but feel foolish.
"I'm sorry!" You cried, the palms of your hands flying up to your sockets. "I'm such an idiot for even thinking there was such a thing as a 'hired friend'. Instead, I called a male prostitute to snuggle and watch a movie with! This is so embarrassing!"
"If you wanna start a movie, then let's start a movie."
With a sharp inhale, you looked up at him. Kuroo grabbed his shirt and slipped it back over his head effortlessly. His placid features never faltered, and he waved his hand dismissively through the air.
"You don't have to look at me like that. You think you're the only one who wants to watch a movie or have a cup of coffee before getting down to business? We can even 'snuggle' if that's what you really want."
Your lips parted in protest, but he chuckled.
"But if you don't want to, that's fine. If what you want is just to pretend for a little bit, then I can do that too. And, if you decide to change your mind, then," he winked, "we'll leave the rest to history. Like I said... I'm flexible."
The tension in your joints melted away, replaced with a tinge of jealousy that your friend, and so many others, had gotten to spend time with this man before you. He was beautiful, seemingly inside and out; if only you had met him before he chose this line of work.
Though you knew sex with him would mean nothing, your prohibitions seemed to fly out the window.
Suddenly, you were considering it.
You scrutinized the white, paper square between your fingers, your thumb running across the black, embossed ink. (F/N) had given you the business card two days ago, after you had made some off-the-cuff comment about your Ex. It was a mistake that lead you into a stammering mess -that you didn't really miss him, and that you were over it.
Your darling, best friend wasn't buying and handed you the mysterious card with a sly grin.
"He's like a therapist or something?" Your eyes squinted. "Kuroo Tetsurou?"
A knowing giggle tickled your ear, "Sure. Something like that. Just trust me, okay? And if you don't call him, then I will. I expect details in the morning."
Before you could even form the words to protest, the line went dead. You brought the phone down slowly, the ironic caller I.D of her tongue sticking out at you vanishing within seconds.
Your teeth sunk into your lip, flipping the card around in search for some form of business description you may have missed. You wondered how your friend could expect you to be comfortable with calling a stranger in the middle of the night, and with no knowledge of his profession. Her vague explanation made it worse, but it also made you all the more curious.
Mainly, because you were lonely and you did miss your Ex. Your impression of the relationship was solid, you were both happy, but apparently he "just didn't find you interesting or exciting enough anymore." It hurt --Dear God, it hurt to hear from the man you thought you were falling in love with.
Your gaze flickered between the business card and your cellphone alternately, thumb hovering over the keypad. With a deep breath and one eye squeezed shut, you dialed the number swiftly and before you could talk yourself out of it. Your heart slammed against your chest, hesitant to bring the device to your ear as it rang.
Each ring seemed to drone on for an eternity, your stomach rolling anxiously at each purr. Just as you were about to chicken out, the line clicked on,
"Yeah?"
You gasped, "K-Kuroo T-Testsurou?"
"Speaking."
His voice was like a deep, lackadaisical hum, but there was also a tinge of amusement to his tone. Suddenly you couldn't form words, your mind trailing through all the possibilities of his appearance, and all the while feeling utterly ridiculous for calling in the first place.
An airy chuckle startled you, "You need some company?"
The question caught you off guard and, before you could even stop yourself, "Yes" came spluttering out, along with your whereabouts and apartment number. As if you'd snapped out of a trance, you hung up the phone with a start and flailed it onto the sofa cushion next to you.
What had you just done?
You told yourself that you needed to calm down; that you were worried over nothing. Your life wasn't in danger, (F/N) wouldn't had referred you to this guy if it were the case and, if anything, perhaps he was just a friend for hire? Worst case scenario, if he was just a weirdo, you could ask him to leave. Right?
Your fingers slid through your hair and clutched onto your cranium. Jesus Christ, what if you just called a stripper? You could hear your friend now, cackling mischievously in her bedroom. She was always trying to break you of your everyday comforts, and now you had allowed her to succeed in that mission.
"I have to cancel," as if it required being said aloud.
No sooner did you reach for your cellphone, a knock also rapped at your door. You stared at it, frozen and forgetting to breath. It crossed your mind to ignore it, but you realized how insensitive and rude that might be. After all, the man at your door had stopped whatever he was doing to come to you, a stranger, and you felt traces of appreciation for that.
Even if he was just a stripper.
You padded tentatively toward the toward, hand curling around the knob painstakingly slow. You swallowed every ounce of your nerves and pulled it open just enough to take a peek. Your gaze trailed up the length of him, eyes widening inch by inch until they rested on his handsome, smirking face and a mess of hair. Feline, hazel eyes peered back at you, a dark brow ever-so-slightly cocked in smug amusement.
"Hey there."
You didn't know whether you were thanking your friend or cursing her.
His hands slid out from his dark, denim pants and offered one to you, "Kuroo."
The crack in the door grew and your hand enveloped his, the heat of his palm carrying itself into the apples of your cheeks.
"_________," you answered sheepishly, lips pressed tightly together to suppress a stupefied grin.
Kuroo's smirk increased, revealing a sliver of white teeth. "We gonna shake hands all night, or are you gonna let me in?"
Your brows shot up and you clumsily retracted your hand against your breasts. A small apology squeaked it's way out and you stepped aside to allow the man inside. His hands found their way back into his pockets before he sauntered into your apartment, eyes wandering.
Your back remained flush against the door for a moment, watching his tall, lankily muscular form stroll around the living room. It seemed to you he was dressed too casually to be a stripper, your uninformed impression being that they were usually dressed in a uniform of some kind, not jeans and t-shirt. And, unless he was going to dance to your selection of music, he hadn't come prepared with a boombox.
"Nice place, ________."
Kuroo's head tilted over his shoulder lazily and he grinned.
You cleared your throat and wrung your hands, "Thanks. Um, do you want something to drink maybe?"
It seemed impossible for his lips to spread any further and with any less slyness. He simply shook his head, "Nah, but you go ahead."
You were parched, but you couldn't bring yourself to move.
"Listen," you started, nearly jumping when he turned to face you. His lips pursed, making it much harder on you to concentrate than his previously dauntless expression. You blushed and averted your eyes to the floor, continuing after a gulp, "I-I don't really... I mean, what is it that you do exactly?"
"Eh?"
Unintentionally, your lids scrunched, "My friend gave me your card. I only really called out of curiosity, and I guess it slipped my mind to ask you over the phone," you paused, mentally shaking you head at your own blabbering. "I-It's just that... She can be kind of... promiscuous, when I'm just--"
"Not?"
You nodded, and dared to peek at him. Your expression fell, crimson spreading through you like wildfire at the sight of his naked torso, his shirt discarded over the back on the sofa. You pressed yourself further into the door, your mouth stammering wordlessly, his hands moving to his belt buckle.
The corner of his mouth stretched confidently, "Maybe you should give it a shot."
"You are a stripper!"
"Guess again."
The wind was knocked out of you in realization, "You're a prostitute?!"
He shrugged nonchalantly, "I prefer 'Hired Company'."
You were rigid, choking on a slew of gasps and incoherent words while you skin burned; if you smushed yourself any closer the door, it would surely splinter under the pressure. The only comprehensible thought you could muster was how you would make your friend suffer for this.
"This is... a huge misunderstanding," you spluttered.
"Hey, it's okay if you're shy. We can go at any pace -I'm flexible."
"Th-that's... It's not happening!"
"Huh? What's the big deal? You a virgin or something?"
You inhaled sharply, "What? How dare you! That's none of your business!"
Again, Kuroo grinned, "You are."
You pressed your trembling lips together into a grimacing frown, and unexpectedly, tears welled up around the rims of your eyes. You had just wanted to do the right thing, you didn't want to give it away to just anybody, and it may have been the reason your boyfriend left you in the first place.
Add the frustratingly nonsensical situation, and you couldn't help but feel foolish.
"I'm sorry!" You cried, the palms of your hands flying up to your sockets. "I'm such an idiot for even thinking there was such a thing as a 'hired friend'. Instead, I called a male prostitute to snuggle and watch a movie with! This is so embarrassing!"
"If you wanna start a movie, then let's start a movie."
With a sharp inhale, you looked up at him. Kuroo grabbed his shirt and slipped it back over his head effortlessly. His placid features never faltered, and he waved his hand dismissively through the air.
"You don't have to look at me like that. You think you're the only one who wants to watch a movie or have a cup of coffee before getting down to business? We can even 'snuggle' if that's what you really want."
Your lips parted in protest, but he chuckled.
"But if you don't want to, that's fine. If what you want is just to pretend for a little bit, then I can do that too. And, if you decide to change your mind, then," he winked, "we'll leave the rest to history. Like I said... I'm flexible."
The tension in your joints melted away, replaced with a tinge of jealousy that your friend, and so many others, had gotten to spend time with this man before you. He was beautiful, seemingly inside and out; if only you had met him before he chose this line of work.
Though you knew sex with him would mean nothing, your prohibitions seemed to fly out the window.
Suddenly, you were considering it.
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Currently going through a break up (it's okay, really. Please, don't be sad) and I had a passing thought of what it would be like if there was someone you could call just to cuddle and or... Ahem, tend to certain needs. Since I've begun to fall into the deep obsession pit that is Kuroo Tetsurou and Haikyuu, he was an obvious choice and it gradually turned in to him just being a prostitute.
That being said, if he's a little out of character, I apologize. It's just my own impression of what the man would be like in this situation, but I tried to base his dialogue off of what I've learned from reading over ReaderInserts (and also obsessively delving into Haikyuu!Wiki). I haven't even met his character yet in the show >_<
I hope you enjoyed the tension and bits of fluff anyhow, and thanks for reading.
My friend, WhiteShiningDragon, wrote PART TWO!!!
Night Call 2|KurooxReader
[I do not own Haikyuu, Kuroo Tetsurou or the image above.
Plot developed by Mikittykun]
That being said, if he's a little out of character, I apologize. It's just my own impression of what the man would be like in this situation, but I tried to base his dialogue off of what I've learned from reading over ReaderInserts (and also obsessively delving into Haikyuu!Wiki). I haven't even met his character yet in the show >_<
I hope you enjoyed the tension and bits of fluff anyhow, and thanks for reading.
My friend, WhiteShiningDragon, wrote PART TWO!!!
Night Call 2|KurooxReader
[I do not own Haikyuu, Kuroo Tetsurou or the image above.
Plot developed by Mikittykun]
© 2016 - 2024 Mikittykun
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the second hand embarrassment is killing me, but it's HALARIOUS!! kuroo's personality is portrayed very well.