𝐔𝐍𝐈𝐓 𝟖𝟎𝟑 • kuroo x reader

22 | 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐁𝐎𝐘𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃

THE FAKE BOYFRIEND

You wake up to darkness. Wrapped snugly in a warm blanket, you take a deep breath through your nose, finding comfort in the fresh woodsy notes that instantly reminds you of Tetsurou.

Tetsurou. Tetsurou.

The memories of last night wash over you, bringing with them the sensations that linger like ghosts across your skin. His lips tracing the contours of your neck, your breasts, and his hands wandering over every inch of your body — it all comes rushing back.

With each recollection, a smile tugs at the corners of your lips, a silent testament to the joy and satisfaction you two found in each other last night. The warmth of his touch, the intensity of his gaze, and the passion that ignited between you — each memory was a new experience for the both of you.

Tossing aside the blanket, you welcome the morning light streaming into Tetsurou's bedroom, its gentle warmth kissing your bare skin. Blinking away the remnants of sleep, you squint against the brightness as your eyes adjust.

"Tetsurou," you murmur groggily, reaching out a foot to his side of the bed and half-expecting to encounter his leg. Yet, the space beside you remains empty, the disheveled sheets the only evidence of his absence.

You sit up in bed, rub your eyes, and stretch your arms up above your head with a small groan. As you survey the room, you note the absence of the clothes that were strewn on the floor, replaced by a tidiness that suggests Tetsurou cleaned up before leaving.

"Where did you go?" you whisper, though you know he isn't here to answer.

Drawing his blanket up to your face, you inhale deeply, still basking in the memories of the previous night. His scent fills your nose, a blend of warm wood and a hint of sweetness, reminiscent of tree sap.

It's a scent that seems perfectly suited to him, like amber and oud — dark and captivating, like the shade of his eyes, and fresh and robust, like his nature.

With a contented sigh, you rise from his bed and make your way to his desk where your clothes and delicate lingerie are neatly folded. There, tucked neatly among your belongings, you find a folded piece of paper. Grinning, you pick it up and unfold it.

Good morning Y/n,
I've gone out to pick up breakfast for us.
I'll be back in a few minutes.
Help yourself to anything in the meantime.

You could've just left me a text, you chuckle at the thought that a simple message would have sufficed, but despite the note's simplicity, you're grateful for the gesture. Folding it carefully, you tuck it into the back pocket of your jeans, treasuring it as a memento of the day — a small piece of him that you wish to hold onto.

Setting aside your own clothes, you rummage through Tetsurou's dressers, finding an array of semi-neatly folded shirts. After sifting through them, you settle on a large white tee that drapes comfortably over your frame, its length reaching just the tops of your thighs.

In another drawer, you discover an assortment of sleep pants and shorts. Selecting a pair of navy shorts, you cinch the waist strings tightly to prevent them from slipping off your hips.