when the lights go out in your apartment, what else is there for you and bokuto to do but get a little closer?
pairing: timeskip!bokuto koutarou x fem!reader, 5.1k, 18+, mdni
warnings: oral (m!receiving), kind of no prep? (spit as lube), cockwarming, unprotected sex/pullout method, friends to lovers!!, needy Bo as is tradition
notes: written for the @heatwave2021 heatwave fic exchange 2021! my recipient was @kou-taro and i picked your third prompt! i am super nervous and i hope you like it ;;;
thank you to: my amazing betas @vanille--kiss, @vivianvampyric, and @lemonadencran for reading this for me! i am eternally grateful <3
It isn’t very often that you can meet up with Bokuto. Between training, traveling, practices, and games, his downtime is few and far between. So when he said he had two nights off in a row—a rarity, you know—you canceled your plans and cleared your schedule, determined to spend as much time with him as possible.
You’d met him through a friend of a friend at a casual dinner and drinks during his first year in the pros. You’d immediately been pulled into his larger-than-life personality, laughing at his loud stories and exaggerated apologies when the bar owner asked him to quiet down. You’d kept in touch since then, and your friends always teased you about how your face lit up whenever Bokuto Koutarou’s name graced your screen. But it wasn’t your fault—the man had a way with people, drawing them into his web of grins and jokes, and you were just another fly in his vicinity with an unrequited crush.
Bokuto sits next to you on the couch, leaning back as he watches the movie with undivided attention. He beat the rain that’s currently pounding on your apartment window by just a minute, stepping into your place with a large pizza and a cheerful, “Sorry I brought the rain with me!” Summer rains are all too common, but the thunder and lightning don’t seem to be dying down, even after nearly an hour.
Thanos raises his hand on screen, ready to snap his fingers and—
There goes your TV.
Not just your TV either: your entire apartment immediately goes dark, the air conditioning stops running, and your phone is no longer charging.
“Hey! What happened?” Bokuto asks as he sits up, and you can barely see his golden eyes thanks to how dark it is in your apartment.
Your phone blows up with texts from your neighbors asking what the hell is going on, and soon your landlord texts saying that they’re “working on the problem but it might take a while.”
“Looks like the power is out for a bit,” you sigh and toss your phone onto the table, sitting back against the couch. Without the air conditioning, your little apartment is already starting to grow hot in just a few minutes, and you fan yourself to keep cool. “Doesn’t look like it’ll be back any time soon.”
“Good thing I’ve already seen the movie,” Bokuto laughs.
“Yeah, Mr. Bokuto, I don’t feel so good,” you joke as you elbow him. “It’s already hot enough in here and it’s only been five minutes.”
“You could always stick your head in the freezer!”
“And let my precious meat go to waste?” You scoff playfully. “I don’t think so. Besides, you sweat more than I do so you’ll probably have it worse than me.”
You hate how you’re right. Not even fifteen minutes later, Bokuto is already complaining about how sticky he’s become thanks to the summer humidity lingering in your apartment, and through flashes of lightning from outside the window, you see that his thin white t-shirt clings to his body. You shouldn’t ogle—well, it’s hard to even ogle with how hard it is to see—but you do anyway. Volleyball has been good to Bokuto, giving him muscles and a thick body that you wouldn’t mind getting your hands on. You’ll never admit that out loud however, not wanting to ruin the good relationship you have with the star so far.
“It’s so hot,” he whines as he sinks further onto your hardwood floor. You made him get off the couch ten minutes prior, worried he’d make the fabric smell like sweat. “How are we supposed to live like this? Why don’t we go to a cafe?”
“In the middle of a storm?” As if answering your question, thunder claps loud enough to shake your windows, making you jump slightly. “See? Even the sky is telling us to stay inside.”
“Well, I’m pretty sure the sky isn’t sweating through their shirt but—”
“Then just take it off.”
Your offer rings in the air, and through the darkness, you can see Bokuto blinking at you as he turns his head your way.
“If you’re sweating through your shirt, isn’t it better to take it off?”
“But then I’ll be sweating through your floor.”
“Bo,” you sigh, shaking your head lightly. “What kind of logic is that?”
You think you hear him mumble something akin to, it makes perfect sense, but the white t-shirt is tugged off and set next to him on the floor. Damn is he good-looking, back firm with his muscles, sweat clinging to his skin as he sits up. You pretend you aren’t looking when his eyes flick over to you.
“What about you?”
You can’t contain your incredulous laugh, face heating at the thought of Bokuto sitting in only his pants on your floor. It doesn’t help that you’re already hot from the apartment, sweat beading down your neck and back as your night shirt clings to you.
“You look sweaty, too.”
“You truly know the way to woo a woman, don’t you, Bo?”
“That’s not what I meant!” He pouts, tugging on the sleeve of your shirt. His fingers on your arm feel electric, making you shift on the couch as he stares at you. “I don’t want you to be uncomfortable.”
“I can’t… I can’t be shirtless in front of you.”
“Why not? I am.”
“It’s different for us,” you sigh. You’re wearing a sports bra but it’s still embarrassing to think he’d see you half-naked for the first time. “You know that.”
“I don’t mind! You’re probably dying.”
Though Bokuto is exaggerating, you do feel stuffy and uncomfortable with the thick fabric clinging to your back. You sigh, trying to swallow down your nervousness as you tug your shirt over your head and set it on the floor by your feet. Bokuto blinks at you, and you swat in his direction to mask your embarrassment.
“Don’t stare at me, Bo, it’s rude.”
“M’not staring,” he mumbles, but by the way he pouts and looks away, you know he’s probably lying.
It’s quiet in the apartment after that, the rain and thunder masking Bokuto’s tap tap taps to his phone. The light from the device illuminates his collarbones and allows you to see the shining sweat gathered on his skin there. He looks flushed, cheeks red from the heat, and although you crack a window, it doesn’t do much to help. It isn’t long before your shorts are already sticking to your thighs, so you slip to the ground next to Bokuto with a whine.
“If it stays like this all night, I won’t be able to sleep.”
“The news says the subway lines are stopped now too thanks to flooding,” Bokuto hums as he flicks through a few websites until he lets out a happy exclamation. “Hey! This site says that ‘taking a cold shower’ will help cool us down. Let’s try it.”
“In the dark?”
“We can use my phone!”
“In the water?” Bokuto gives you the most wounded expression, face twisted as he glances over to you, and you cover your mouth to keep from laughing. “I’m sorry! Sorry. It’s a good idea. Do you want to go first?”
“Why would I go first?” He blinks. “We could go together.”
“Bokuto,” you immediately answer, cheeks growing hotter thanks to the way heat flushes through your system at the implication. “You can’t be serious.”
“I won’t look! I promise. I’m not going to make you wait outside your own shower. Besides, with how dark it is, I won’t see much, don’t you think?”
You hate that you can follow ‘Bokuto logic’, as you’ve come to understand it. He has his own ideas and thought process for how things should operate, and the more time you spend with him, the more you start to think like him too. You don’t know how Akaashi copes with it.
This is a bad idea. A very, very bad idea that you try to convince yourself away from as you both carefully trudge to the bathroom. Bokuto sets up his phone on the counter so it shines on the bathtub as you fiddle with the settings to start running a cold shower. When you turn back after the water is running, you find Bokuto’s already stripped of his shorts and his fingers are hooked around the waistband of his boxers.
“B-Bokuto! Keep those on!”
“Wait, what? They’re wet too! How else are we supposed to shower?”
Oh my God, he has to be joking.
“In our undergarments?” You offer lamely, already knowing that it’s a losing battle. The logic makes sense as much as you hate to admit it. “You… you can’t just… strip here, you know. You have to tell me first—”
“Hey, I’m going to strip now,” he interrupts you.
“Keep your underwear on and go commando later!” You squeak, squeezing your eyes shut to keep from staring.
“Okay, if you say so,” he relents, and you hold tight to the strings of your shorts as he walks past you, the curtain making a noise as he jumps into the tub and closes it.
With the light from the phone on the curtain, you can see the outline of his body, a shadow of his muscles, from his arms, to his abs, to his—
No, no, no. Now is not the time to get lost in your dirty thoughts. Not the time to imagine Bokuto opening the curtain, inviting you inside with the perfect glimpse of his dick. Not the time to visualize Bokuto pressing his lips to your back as his fingers slowly dance down your stomach from behind, his hard cock grinding into your ass as he whispers, I’ve always wanted to do this, you know, and I know you want me, so now…
“Are you coming in? I’m not looking!” Bokuto’s loud voice breaks your reverie, and you have to squeeze your thighs together to get your cunt to stop throbbing.
“Yeah, yeah, okay,” you agree before you can convince yourself to walk back out to the living room and become an even bigger puddle of human on the floor.
Bokuto is already wet when you shed your shorts and step in, but he’s kept his promise, eyes shut as he stands under the cold stream. The water drips down his chest and his abs, trickling down to his wet boxers, where you can see the perfect imprint of his cock. It doesn’t help your pulsing core, and you have to take a deep breath to keep yourself from reaching out and touching him.
There’s an awkward shuffle when you try to get under the stream too, with Bokuto keeping his eyes closed as he backs up. Your body brushes against his as you both maneuver to share and you swallow to keep sane. You need to cool off and get out of here immediately, or you’re going to go crazy. His body is so firm, so hard, looking like a goddamn statue from the art museum as you watch him massage the water into his muscles.
“Are you staring at me?” Bokuto suddenly asks, and the second he tries to open his eyes, you squeak and move to cover them. The tub is too slippery and you end up falling right into his chest, which sends him falling back into the wall. He holds you close as you both tumble awkwardly to the ground, a mess of bent limbs and pained hisses.
“Shit Bo, I’m sorry!” You pull back slightly, running your hands over his arms to make sure he’s not injured. “I didn’t mean—”
“Hey,” he cuts you off with a signature goofy grin, but his hands traveling up your exposed back are certainly more than friendly. “I’m fine. Great, in fact!”
Heat floods your body as you realize the position you’re in. You’re settled between his thick thighs, his hands keeping you close, your hands firmly on his arms. Cold water pounds on your back, but you can only feel the way his calloused fingers dance along the bottom of your wet sports bra.
“Bo, what are you doing?” Your question is barely audible over the shower and the ringing in your ears but you somehow manage to voice it.
“Would you be mad if I said I planned this?”
His return question catches you off-guard, and you lean your head back in surprise. “You did?”
“Well, I mean, I didn’t plan a blackout but I thought, ‘hey, maybe this is a chance to tell her I like her!’ And I think maybe you like me, too? Because, you know, you came in here with me and were staring at me, so…”
Your mind is reeling from his confession, your heart racing a mile a minute, and the only thing you can think to say is: “Your plan to confess to me was to get me half naked?”
“Did it work?”
This situation is absolutely something Bokuto Koutarou would do—from the half-baked cold shower plan, to the awkward yet endearing confession, to the way his hands hold you close, his fingertips dipping under the elastic of your sports bra. It makes you laugh, the sound echoing in the small shower, and you shut his sputtered, ‘Wait, am I wrong?” up by leaning forward and kissing him.
You can feel his smile against your lips as he kisses you back. It’s even better than you imagined, his hand a bit chilly as he cups your cheek to keep you close. It’s one chaste kiss, then another, and another, like he’s drinking you in and getting taste after taste. His tongue darts to touch your lower lip and you part your lips to let him in, but Bokuto makes a sound of surprise, like he didn’t expect you to do that.
“If you don’t want to—”
“Kou,” you breathe against his lips, and his hitch of breath is loud in your ears. “I’m sitting half naked between your legs, just kissed you, and you’re worried I don’t want you?”
“I’m trying to be respectful,” he pouts. “Just in case.”
“Well, don’t,” you urge, running your tongue over his lower lip, enjoying the way his chest starts to rise and fall with his breaths. “You can do whatever you’d like to me.”
Bokuto looks like he’s short-circuiting for a moment, eyes wide and fingers digging into your back, but then you whisper his name and he snaps out of it. His lips are hungrier on yours, holding the back of your head to keep you pressed against him when he delves into your mouth. His kiss is as carefree as he is, twirling his tongue around yours, pushing against yours hard enough to make you moan. He shifts beneath you and you suddenly remember your position. It’s probably uncomfortable, so you break the kiss, leaning back to turn the water off.
“Where are you going?” He asks and stops you with a firm hand on your back, the water beating down on the both of you.
“Water,” you whimper when he leans up and attaches his lips to your neck, licking up the water that trickles down to your collarbones. His fingers push up your sports bra and immediately cup your tits, thumbs running over your hard nipples.
“Too hot,” Bokuto counters before his nose bumps your jaw, forcing your chin up so he has more access to your flesh. He sucks and licks all over, and you run your fingers through his wet hair and tug. It forces his head up so you can meet his lips again, tongues immediately tangling. Bokuto lets out the faintest groan when you suck and it goes straight to your core, making you do it again so you can hear that sound one more time.
“We should move,” he pants when you pull back to breathe, and the second you shift your legs, you realize why. His cock presses up against his underwear, hard and extremely inviting, and you lick your lips as you stare at it.
“You play volleyball with that thing just dangling around, Kou?”
His cheeks go wildly red, noticeable even in the dim lighting, and he makes a noise in the back of his throat. “How else do you play volleyball?!”
“I don’t know, I feel like you might take Atsumu’s eye out—”
“It’s not that big, please—”
“Can I suck it?”
He goes quiet at your question, pausing for a split second before he’s nodding so hard you think his head might fall off. You lean back so he can move to the edge of the tub, swinging one wet leg outside so he’s straddling the thin wall. He lifts his hips and you help peel off his wet underwear, exhaling softly when his cock springs into view. Your pussy throbs at the sight of it, and you wiggle closer, wrapping a hand around the base and pumping a few times just to feel him.
The groan he lets out is pure electricity, traveling straight down your spine and making you shiver. You lean over his thigh to lick around the tip, eyes on his expression as you take it into your mouth. A soft suck makes his thighs flex, and you dig your nails into his flesh as you lean down to take more of him into your mouth. It hits the back of your throat before it’s completely in, so you squeeze your hand around the base, starting a slow rhythm that makes him whine.
He looks so good biting his lip like he’s trying not to beg, and a sick thrill races through your veins at how vulnerable he seems under your touch. You trail your tongue down the underside of his length, pumping your hand as you move back up to the tip. Bokuto groans when you dip your tongue into the tip of his cock before swirling and taking him again, and a gentle hand on the back of your head forces you down even further.
You make a sound that’s muffled by his cock and the hand lets go. “Sorry, sorry—”
You make another sound, this one more adamant as you suck harder, your free hand grabbing his wrist to force him back. Bokuto whines when you squeeze your hand none-too-gently around his cock, and he seems to get your hint because his hand is back and pushing you further down as you work. Your sucks and Bokuto’s moans are even louder than the water, echoing in the small bathtub and making your clit pulse. His hand tightens on the back of your head when your fingers brush over his balls, squeezing as you bob up and down, lips tight around his shaft.
There’s a sudden jerk to your arm and you’re popped off of Bokuto’s cock by the flushed man himself, his grip tight as he heaves for breath.
“Hey, I wasn’t finished.”
“But I need to be inside of you,” he counters.
It sounds so casual, like you’re discussing dinner or weekend plans. It still goes straight to your wet cunt, and you can’t be mad at him as he scrambles up and helps you out of the tub. He lays down on the tile of your bathroom as you peel off your wet underwear, and you’re barely naked before you’re tugged down on top of him; you have to catch yourself from falling forward with a hand on his chest.
“Kou!” You squeal, and his happy laugh sounds so good as it rings in your ears.
“Sorry, too excited, need to be—”
You feel his hard cock graze your folds as he lifts his hips, and with a moan, you grind back down into him. His thick length feels so good swiping over your cunt, and you keen when he accidentally bumps into your clit with too eager of a pass. His hands move from your arms to your breasts, squeezing and kneading as you rock against him, nails digging into his broad chest.
“Man, you’re pretty.” He grins as he starts to tug at your nipples, tongue darting out to wet his bottom lip. It makes you mewl and rock faster against his cock, core pulsing with the need to be filled. “Have I ever told you that? Pretty.”
“I think you’re trying to butter me up, Kou,” you manage between sighs when he starts rolling your hard nipples between his fingers.
You lift your hips and let the tip of his cock brush your folds, dipping into your entrance before you pull back. It makes you both moan, and his grip on your breasts tightens even more as you wiggle on top of him to feel him more. You lick a stripe up your hand before running it over the tip of his cock, lubricating him enough to slip him inside of you.
It’s still a stretch, the burn of his thick cock stretching you out making you gasp. You hold your folds open as you rock up and down a few times to get more of him in you, your wetness making it slightly easier to sink down on him completely. You feel so full with him sheathed inside of you like this, pressing against your walls and rendering you breathless. When you sigh out his name, his hands travel down to your hips and hold you down so you can’t move.
“K-Kou,” you whine as you wiggle on top of him, trying to lift your hips so you can start riding him.
“No, wait, hold on, I want—” He pauses, licking his thumb before his hand moves to your cunt. He touches around the top of your folds until you moan, and his playful grin grows darker once he finds your clit and starts rubbing. “—want to feel you squeeze me.”
“But I want to ride you,” you counter as your walls squeeze him, pleasuring rippling up your spine as his finger works faster. You grind down on his cock, hips circling and ripping a moan from his chest. “Please?”
“Just... just a little,” he chokes as his hips raise to meet yours. His face is twisted like he’s concentrating on not fucking you, determined to feel your walls clamp down on him more with swift rubs to your clit. You whine, running your hands over all of his muscles to feel him, hips raising to get the friction you so desperately crave. But he doesn’t let you—his hand grips tighter, holding your hips down as his thumb works even faster and makes your toes curl.
“You know, you feel so much better than I thought,” he pants as he bucks into you one more time before swallowing and stilling his hips. Part of you wishes he wouldn’t talk because you can feel your orgasm start to rise with a few quick circles of your pulsing nub; the other part desperately wants to hear how he’s wanted you just as badly as you’ve wanted him. “Tighter than I imagined.”
“I bet I could ride you better too, if you just let me—”
“Shh, stop talking,” he teases, and you’d be angrier that Bokuto Koutarou of all people just told you to be quiet if his thumb wasn’t quickly bringing your orgasm.
You steady yourself on his chest as you lean back, grinding circles into his hard cock as your walls spasm around him. Your heavy breaths are louder than the shower behind you, and your eyes slip closed as pleasure overrides everything else. It’s like the crashing of a wave, and your whimpered Kou, fuck, echoes in the small bathroom as you release. Your eyes squeeze shut with your moans, and he finally lets go of your hip so you can bounce slightly on his cock to prolong your orgasm.
“Holy shit,” he whispers, and your eyes flick up to him. His pupils are blown, stuck on where his cock impales you as you lightly bounce on him, and he looks like he doesn’t know what to do with his hands as he watches your essence drip down his shaft. “Dripping, fuck, you’re so wet for me.”
Any retort you have for him is lost to a squeal when he bucks up into you. His hands are back on your hips, legs lifting to set his feet and fuck up into you. You try to match his pace, fingers digging into his chest as you ride him, and when he slaps your ass, you can’t help but squeak.
“Is- is this what you wanted?” You ask breathlessly, batting your eyes down at him as you work. He hits so deep that it makes you shiver every time his cock brushes against that spongy part of you that spikes heat in your stomach. “Me like this?”
“Kinda,” he replies with a sigh, and suddenly you’re flipping on your back—but not without a few fumbles.
“Hey, watch it, Kou!”
“Sorry! Here, move over—”
“My back is sticking to the—”
“Lift your hips a little—”
When you’re finally all settled, your back rests on the cold tile, your legs wrapped around his waist. Even through the dim lighting, Bokuto’s grin is blinding, water dripping from his hair down onto his chest. His cock grinds against your folds again, making you moan when he runs up and down slowly.
“I wanted you like this more,” he confesses. It makes your heart skip a beat, cheeks warming at the intimacy, and you immediately hold your arms out for him with a smile.
“Okay, then come get me.”
Bokuto laughs and leans down, setting his elbows next to your head as he kisses you. He’s just as intense as before, if not more now, his tongue flicking all over yours as you tangle them. His fingers run down your cheek, to your jaw then your collarbone, down your stomach to his cock. He’s just about to slip in again when—
You’re both suddenly blinded by the fluorescent lights kicking on in your bathroom, and you squint to get used to it, blinking a few times. Bokuto fares as well as you do, and when you both catch each other’s gazes, you laugh, cheeks warming at finally seeing everything out in the open.
“Don’t stare at me, Kou,” you scold him playfully, exactly like you did earlier in the night. “It’s rude.”
“M’gonna be rude,” he grins and slips back inside of you.
It’s easier now that you’re so wet for him, and it doesn’t take him long to have your legs pulled over his shoulders, thrusting into you with harsh slaps of his hips. He knocks you back so much that you have to put your hands on the wall, holding yourself down to meet him. Your moans echo in the bathroom, mouth parted with your heavy breaths. Bokuto’s gaze bounces from your dazed expression, to the bouncing of your tits, to the way his cock disappears into your pussy with slick sounds and the slapping of his balls against your ass.
He holds onto your hips to lift them slightly, angling even deeper to make you cry out. Your fingers dig into the wall before one moves down to your clit; it’s easy to rub now that you’re so wet, and your quick rubs match his fast thrusts. He looks so good with his flushed expression, eyes bright with desire, hair matted to his sweaty and wet forehead.
“Can’t wait to see you cum for me,” he rumbles, dark and deep and oh so sexy. It makes your walls clench down on him with a quiet sound.
“I already—mm, fuck, Kou—” you gasp when he brushes your cervix. “I already did, you know.”
“Yeah, but—shit—” he shivers, goosebumps rising on his arms as his thrusts start to grow sloppier. “Now I can see it.”
You keen, head falling back so you can watch his pleasured expression with lidded eyes. His scrunched eyebrows, his sweaty temples, his lolling tongue—all of it goes straight to your pulsing cunt, toes digging into the tile. You don’t have to tell him you’re about to cum; Bokuto can tell by the way your walls flutter as he drags his cock along them, your fingers working even harder to bring your release.
“Yeah, come on, let me see it.” He’s practically begging, voice a whine as he chases his high. “For me, please.”
“Kou!” You squeal and arch off the ground, body shuddering in as your orgasm hits, this time crashing into you. You barely register Bokuto’s harsh sounds, ears swimming with pleasure and body buzzing with everything him. It’s only when you feel him yank his cock from you, warmth spreading across your stomach and upper thighs, that you open your eyes and look back down. Cum spurts from his cock all over your flesh, his large hand jerking himself to completion as he groans. Holy shit, that’s hot, you think, but then Bokuto looks up with a playful grin and you realize, oops you said it out loud.
“Sorry I made a mess,” he tells you as he leans down to set his head on your chest. You thread your fingers through his hair as he kisses along your sweaty flesh, squirming when he lazily runs his tongue over your nipples.
“Yeah, now I’ll have to shower.”
“Good thing we’re in the bathroom,” he laughs, and the loud sound heats your cooling body down to the very core.
“Next time just finish inside, it’s fine.”
Bokuto freezes before peeking up at you, the expression on his face twisting in delight. “What?”
“No, no, no, you said ‘next time.’”
Your fingers tug at his hair as you laugh. “Well, yeah. I thought you said you liked me?”
“Well the feeling is mutual.” Then you flick his nose, scrunching up your face in mock annoyance. “But you need to get off of me so I can shower.”
“Can I join?” The way his face lights up reminds you of a puppy, and you shake your head with a small grin.
“Only if you wash my back.”
You feel his fingers dip into the cooling cum on your stomach, trailing down, down to your thighs, and then up further, tracing around your sensitive flesh before he asks, “Can I wash other places, too?”
“Bokuto Koutarou!” You squeal indignantly, determined to finally get off your bathroom floor.
But you know better than anyone that there’s no denying his smooth smiles and wandering hands.
warnings. fluff + just the boys being softies w their kids <3
signed. thinking a whole lot about domestic life w my favourites + our little families—idek if these are considered habits but they’re cute so yea :/
ꨄ ATSUMU his son got so used to seeing his dad whine for a kiss before bed now he can’t sleep without one either. you always end up having both of them standing infront of you with messy hair + similarly tired eyes waiting for their kisses, and the puffy cheeked pout on your sons lips that matches his father warms your heart when you watch them play fight to see who gets theirs first. “ay! daddy gets the kisses first cause...j-just cause a said so alright, ya can go next!” even though you normally have to push atsumu off of you when he takes the opportunity to tease your son, dragging out his kisses with a lazy smirk on his face and some exaggerated kissy noises. “just one more angel come on, a was here first anyway—always told ya i’ll never get enough of yer kisses. a aint sharin’” his son gets him back by falling asleep on you so you carry him to bed, atsumu trailing behind you with a few huffs and groans under his breath. “damn brat, hoggin’ all the cuddles too—it ain’t fair.”
ꨄ BOKUTO always greeted you after a trip away with a “hey, hey, hey” before lifting you into his arms—so everytime you pick up your son from kindergarten he decided that he should do the same. hearing a babbled “hey, hey, hey” as he runs towards you and your husband, his smile beaming and fists raised as he approaches you before wrapping his arms around your thigh—straining a little as he tries to lift you up before eventually pouting up at you and raising his arms to be lifted instead. it’s normally bokuto who lifts your son after, pulling him into his arms with a spin as they both giggle—familiarity in the way both their amber eyes gleam when they look at you with bright smiles. “it’s okay buddy! daddy’s so strong he can carry you both, you wanna see?” “koutarou, n-no!” “babe it’s fine, i had extra meat at practice look—“
ꨄ IWAIZUMI it was always obvious when iwaizumi was grumpy despite what he said, and it became even more apparent when you both had a son. it’s pretty funny when you return home to your son and his father having a disagreement. both males standing across from eachother in the living room with matching frowns, their arms crossed as your son pouts up at your husband—given how much bigger he stands above them. the similarity is even more noticeable when both start to grumble after a decent amount of time has passed, iwaizumi side glancing your figure as you fight the smile threatening to spread on your lips at the sight—because your son really was just like his father, maybe theyre both a little stubborn but you know that their frowns will soften as soon as their eyes meet yours because if they could agree on anything it would be that you were their everything.
ꨄ SAKUSA always tended to hold the hem of your jacket when it got a little crowded in public, making sure that you were kept close. you don’t know when your daughter picked up the habit from her father until you were strolling through the supermarket with them both. feeling a familiar tug on the hem of your jacket before turning to see that it was your daughter as she blinked up at you, leaning slightly into your side. “you okay, baby?” you grin when you watch your daughters curls bounce as she nods her head, only to feel sakusa tug on his side of your jacket after with a small pout on his lips realising that his usual spot had been taken. but you feel your heart warm when you notice a smile on kiyoomi’s features under the mask when his daughter finally reaches to grab onto his jacket instead, watching him turn to you with an almost proud look on his face.
ꨄ SUNA it could’ve been coincidence but when you feel your son always crawl his way into your lap to fall asleep you realise just how much like his father he was. tired but familiar green eyes blinking up at you as you brush the darker hair from his face before he nuzzles into you to go to sleep. although you thought he was cute, your husband wouldn’t say the same as he stands over you on the couch, green eyes narrowed and frowning down at the space in your lap that he normally looked forward to occupying after a long day at practice, only for it to now be taken. you stifle a laugh as you watch suna gather the toddler into his arms before taking him to bed, playfully stomping back with a ghost of a pout on his lips but you know he’s going to give him a quick kiss goodnight on his forehead anyway, before grabbing your ankles and yanking you further down the couch, flopping into your lap with a few kisses against your stomach before smooshing his cheek against the skin. “tsk trying to steal my pretty baby—is that it?”
ʚ♡ɞ SYNOPSIS: welcome to my very first kinktober event! for five weeks, every friday until october 31st, i’ll be posting a short fic based on five kinks and characters selected by you guys ! dynamight.net proudly presents — fuckin’ her five ways.
ʚ♡ɞ cw. the following pieces contain dark content and nsfw themes, each is tagged with it’s own warrnings. please heed these for your own safety. minors do not internact.
ʚ♡ɞ a/n. join the kinktober taglist here ! likes + rbs are always appreciated.
OCTOBER 1ST - THE FUTURE WE PLANNED !
ৎ୭. izuku midoriya + breeding.
ৎ୭ synopsis. after years of hiding in the shadows and being on the run, our beloved vigilante izuku midoriya returns to his girlfriend’s home to help you build the family you’ve always dreamed of.
ৎ୭ synopsis. kirishima hates the way his friends talk about his step-sister— he knows that you’re hot, knows that you’re filthy, but only he gets to see the dirty sides of you and his friends will just have to sit this one out.
ৎ୭ synopsis. when the volleyball off-season rolls around and things get a little lonely for bokuto, he adopts a precious husky hybrid to keep him company— however, you’re not as well behaved as he would like.
ৎ୭ synopsis. a girls day out with nobara has you blowing up megumi’s phone with pictures of you in the cutest, tightest, shortest dress he’s ever seen—and after a few more sinful messages, your dress makes its debut in your boyfriend’s private show.
ৎ୭ synopsis. your best friend’s girlfriend doesn’t like you, but can you really blame her? i mean, you’re perfect ! pretty, smart, likeable and you have her boyfriend wrapped around your perfectly manicured finger.
ৎ୭ synopsis. as part of @/cyancherub’s wheel of misfortune collab. nearing the anniversary of his brother’s disappearance, mikey gets stuck with babysitter he doesn’t want, for protection, as ordered by his parents. he should count his blessings that she’s around too, don’t you know mikey? there’s a killer on the loose.
You are by far, my fave haikyuu angst writer here on Tumblr. Like you just know how to hurt me. I'm not sure if you're taking requests but could you do one where they reject your confession but like later on regrets it? 🥺👉👈 Each captain could have like a different response though like in your earlier posts. Thank you for the writing and hope you have a great day!
Angst, I hope it’s angsty enough
A/N: Tysm, that’s so sweet of you 😭 I’m so sorry that this has taken me so long to write but I kinda struggled with this one. These feel very repetitive to me? I tried to make them all different which is why there’s only 5 cos I ran out of ideas :/// I’ve gone back and forth so many times and even now I’m not completely satisfied with it but I’ll put it out anyway and hope for the best 😩
Daichi - The day you confessed to Daichi, you swore you’d never lay your heart out like that for anyone again. Fidgeting with your fingers, you peeked up at him shyly, waiting for a response but you were only met with silence. All you saw was the shocked expression etched onto his face that slowly morphed into discomfort.
“You’re like a little sister to me.”
That was all he said, shuffling from foot to foot awkwardly, itching to take off and escape from the heavy atmosphere that suddenly suffocated the pair of you. You gave him a weak little nod and an even weaker smile, dimly hearing some lame excuse before he all but sprinted away from you.
You didn’t show your face to him again after that, too humiliated and hurt from his words. The longer he went without seeing you, the louder his heart screamed at him. Why would you say that? Why would you just let her go like that? You know that’s not how it is! But cowardice had won out before he could even think about it and led to days now spent wondering what if?
Kuroo - You shouldn’t have opened your mouth. If words could be swallowed you’d force every single syllable back down your throat. But you’d been overwhelmed, heart swirling with too much all at once so the pot had bubbled up and spilled over. Words left you in an endless stream and he somehow listened through all your sniffles and sobs, holding you gently. And you were grateful for him, you really were. So much so that your gratitude joined the tide and before you knew you it, you’d told him your deepest secret.
He stiffened up. He tried to play it off quickly but you felt that moment of silence more keenly than everything else you’d felt that evening. It became clear that you were on separate pages, hell, you weren’t even in the same book. You were just his best friend, that’s all you’d ever be. How unfortunate.
The distance between you grew after that, the silence on your end almost deafening. Every night, he’d lay in bed and replay your words, regret festering away inside him. If only he could turn back time, react differently, say something, anything to not make you hate him. He was sure that you did and now there was no telling if he could ever fix the mess in his heart and in your relationship.
Oikawa - Never in your wildest dreams did you expect Oikawa to notice you, let alone speak to you. He was as popular in college as he was in high school, with his winning smile, soft curls and athletic prowess. Everyone fawned over him, including you and he somehow decided to talk to you. He sat by you during lecture, every curve and lilt to his voice captivating you utterly. You were in love, well and truly smitten and you wanted to be his. So you plucked up your courage and took a leap of faith.
It was only a small note, you couldn’t even call it a love letter. Your message had been simple and sweet and you’d left a great big hint in the form of one of your inside jokes. He would be the only one to know it was you.
When he found the note stuffed in his bag and read it, he did know it was you. It made him feel strange, off kilter and that was never a good sign. Your message went ignored and that was that. At least, that’s what he thought.
Neither of you acknowledged the existence of the note and it made him antsy. Why weren’t you saying anything about it? Should he say something? Shouldn’t you be distraught or something? It filled him with unease, how easily you pretended you’d never confessed your love for him and he wanted to respond. ‘Wait a second, I’ve got my answer now!’ is what he wanted to say to you but he’d left it for so long he was sure he’d run out of time and chances. Ignorance was not bliss.
Bokuto - If anyone told you that they didn’t like Bokuto, you would’ve laughed in their faces. How could anyone not like him? He was kind and fun and he made you grin so hard you cheeks hurt. You fell in love with the man you were sure was the human embodiment of sunshine. With the way he treated you, you were sure he loved you same way. Always hugging you and complimenting you, looking at you fondly with those shiny eyes that held so much more intelligence than most people would expect.
But just as Icarus flew too close to the sun, so too did you. Your confession was spontaneous, in the midst of a movie marathon where his arm had been wrapped around you, pulling you into his side. His brows had furrowed at your words and he withdrew nervously, cocking his head to the side and standing abruptly. His mind was racing. What did this mean for you? For him? How would things change? Would they change? Overcome by his thoughts, he mumbled an ‘I can’t do this’ and rushed right out of your apartment. You suppose that was your answer right there.
Bokuto was terrified. His heart was pounding as your words echoed in his mind and he knew the second he ran out that he’d hurt you. Badly. He hadn’t missed the way your expression had fallen, how your eyes had clouded and how you chewed nervously at your lip. Regret made his stomach churn unpleasantly even as he sprinted back the way he came, hoping and praying he still had a chance.
Ushijima - For a long time now, you’d been labouring under the impression that the two of you were meant to be. You were just so in tune with each other, everything felt so natural. You were absolutely sure that he felt that way too, that he only treated you this way. You should’ve been the only one.
Assumptions, it seems, can mean the death of ones heart - figuratively speaking, of course. With a shy smile, he’d told you he had something important to tell you. He’d asked you to meet him at your spot, beneath an old sakura tree with heavy branches that you both hid under for shade during the scorching summer days. This was it, it was finally happening.
Quietly, with a bright blush lighting up his cheekbones, he confessed. That he’d finally begun dating some girl that you’d never even heard of, let alone seen. You forced a smile and spat out a congratulations, mumbling a flimsy excuse as you turned on your heel and all but ran from him.
Something didn’t sit right with him after that day. Even though he was content with his new girlfriend, the image of your eyes swirling with a storm of emotions he couldn’t decipher, wouldn’t leave his mind. That day, things had shifted between you and all of a sudden he wanted to take it all back. He wanted to erase everything that made you look at him like that. Like he’d taken something precious from you and burnt it to ashes right before you. What he wouldn’t give to see the gleam in your eyes once more.
he ignores your protests and laces his fingers with yours to stop you from pushing him away. it took months for you to become comfortable with him looking at your stomach, and even longer for you to bear it without having a panic attack. and even now, years into your relationship, you still find yourself questioning– is he sure? does he really mean it when he says he loves your body?
he’ll reassure you a million times if that’s what you need and he’d probably even shout it from the building tops if he could but at the end of the day bokuto doesn’t care how other people feel about his relationship, about his beautiful girlfriend. all that matters is you.
so he always takes extra care in admiring your form–caressing every curve, kissing every stretch mark, everything. dragging his lips across your naked chest, he works his way down to your tummy and starts pressing soft, sweet little kisses right down the middle. in between each kiss he lets out little grunt of appreciation at how soft you are.
and only after he’s fully admired every square inch of your tummy does he finally start moving down to your messy lil’ cunt. big hands let go of yours so they can grab at your pretty tits, massaging the flesh and rolling the sensitive nubs. his hot mouth ghosts over your soaked panties, making you whine. but your boyfriend never makes you wait long, mostly because he’s too excited to wait any longer himself.
“pull your panties to the side, baby. lemme see that pretty pussy”
and it’s impossible to deny him anything, let alone this — not when he’s already practically drooling in front of you, desperate to lose himself in you. so with a shaky hand you do as he says, tugging the fabric to the side and holding your thighs apart like he taught you to.
“that’s my good girl.”
he rewards you by burying his tongue deep into your little hole, his nose bumping against your swollen clit. he quickly pulls back and swirls his tongue around your slick folds, smearing your arousal all over his chin. he feels his mind get hazier and hazier as he continues licking and sucking at your sweet little pussy until all he’s able to feel is you. his stiff cock aches but he wouldn’t even dream of leaving his current spot, instead deciding to hump the mattress to alleviate some of the tension but it only makes him needier.
he’s rutting his hips into the soft mattress with such force the entire bed shakes, reminding you just how strong he is. your eyes struggle to focus on the sight below, trying to commit it to memory for those nights when he’s away, but it’s hopeless.
“fuck– ‘m gonna- ‘m cumming!” you cry out, finally finding the right words as your orgasm washes over you. bokuto hums happily against your cunt, nodding his head in encouragement until you finally let out a shaky breath and gently push his head away before you get too overstimulated.
bokuto kisses his way back up your tummy and up to your face, leaning in and letting you kiss him all over.
“you know i love you, right baby?” he asks, cupping your face with one of his big hands, thumb reaching out to massage your cute, round cheeks.
“i know.” you reply, giggling as you run your fingers through his messy hair, the faint sting of insecurity having been washed away from your mind. “i love you too.”
warnings. it’s technically first i love you but the title was too long also mattsun’s is angsty i’m sorry i love him but it fit.
IWAIZUMI isn’t sure if he’s heard you right. you let the words chase after your breath in the sunken sound of whispers, let the syllables clip over your tongue as though you were saying them not as a declaration, but as a promise. and in the chilling breeze of autumn, the moon weaving through your hair and over your skin, he can hardly believe you. his breath comes out in stutters, his voice caught somewhere in his throat, but he smiles. it’s crooked, and his lips quirk upwards as a relieved sigh crosses his tongue. i didn’t know, he says, shaking his head and furrowing his brows as he starts again, i love you too. and with the whisper of the autumn wind, he leans in, presses his lips to yours, and mumbles it again.
KUROO lets the words settle for a moment in the air, lets the breath settle in his chest, lets the ground settle somewhere beneath him. suddenly, things feel a little more real. suddenly, the way the summer sun kisses his skin and the way your eyes glint in its light feels less like a dream and more like something he can feel. and so he tries, lets his fingers brush your skin and over your cheeks, moves a piece of hair away from your eyes and drags his fingertips down until they meet your lips. say it again, he whispers, because suddenly he’s sure the things you speak are his only lifeline. he’s sure that the breath crossing your tongue is something like his salvation. say it again, please.
BOKUTO said it first. in a rush of breath after a game, his arms strong around your waist and his nose buried deep into your collar. he was sure you wouldn’t say it back—he was sure he wouldn’t hear it from you until late at night, until spring had ended and he could hear the swell of cicadas and see the lights of fireflies around his home. but here, spring still laced in his breath and in the air around his fingers, you say it back to him. you mumble it into his skin, trace hearts along where your hands have landed on his back, and he pulls away. you mean that? he asks, because he’s been through this before, because he knows that people will say it and won’t mean it, that they’ll leave when he turns his back. but when you nod and repeat it back to him, he’ll only laugh. then me too.
MATSUKAWA is sure that, if he was a good man, things would be different. but he’s watching the way snowflakes mix with your lashes, watching the way they land upon your nose and melt into your skin, and he’s sure he’s no good man. the words pass your lips, tinted red from the way the cold bites at your flesh, and he can’t help but feel the pull towards you. he wants to reach out to you, wants to warm your cheeks with his hands, wishes to pull you into him until he can wrap his coat around both of you—until he can feel your heartbeat against his, until he can’t be sure which tremors come from you and which from him. please don’t say that, he says instead, a terrible shake in his voice, a certain stiffness in his throat that he can’t place. you know i want to say it back.
❥ the haikyuu boys who start talking with their left hand whenever someone is flirting with them. can this person just not take a hint? can they not see the cool metal band on their ring finger? regardless, it’s slowly beginning to get on their nerves. they don’t want to cause a scene, but they’re tired of being subtle as it’s clearly not working. they’re gesticulating with their left hand, every word is emphasized with their left hand. the gestures don’t even begin to make sense anymore as they practically wave their hand wildly in front of the other person’s face in hopes that they’d get the hint. they eventually walk away without another word, not wanting to waste any more energy on them when they could be with you.
❥ …but also, the haikyuu boys who just go “not interested, i’m married.” they’re not even going to bother. looks at them with an unamused face and leaves. the ring on their hands is clearly visible, if another person still decides to flirt with them despite that...yeah, no <3
hi there!! could i request sakusa, atsumu, oikawa, kageyama and akaashi (if thats too much, you can only do oikawa, kags and akaashi, npnp!) with an s/o who has a lot of stuffed animals and loves them dearly?! thank you ^0^!
WHEN YOU LOVE PLUSHIES
with: timeskip! oikawa, kageyama, akaashi, bokuto
notes: im writing this with my sushi cat plushie on my lap!!! —fluff!
❊ OIKAWA glares at the bunny plushie sitting on your lap, cheeks puffed out and eyebrows furrowed. he clears his throat audibly but you pay him no mind, he then nudges your leg with his foot but again you choose to ignore him and his antics. with an overly exasperated huff, he finally says, "you'd rather hug that than me?" he clenches his chest dramatically and you roll your eyes.
"yes," you answer coldly at the pouting man before you, "and it's because they're not a drama queen." and as if on queue, he gasps and clenches his chest dramatically as you bite your lip to keep yourself from smiling.
❊ KAGEYAMA finds himself at the losing side of a one-sided staring contest with your sun-shaped plushie. the yellow stuffed toy only smiles at him as he narrows his eyes even more, determined to win.
"what even are you doing?" you ask as soon as you enter the room, at a loss for words at how your boyfriend's eyes are seemingly burning holes on your plushie.
his gaze does not waver as he only opens his mouth to speak, "he kind of looks like someone..." he mumbles more to himself than to you.
❊ AKAASHI knows you're upset, as to why? he's not entirely sure. what he does know is that, of all the possible things he can do to cheer you up, there is one thing that would never fail.
so, as the two of you finally sit down in the restaurant, he hands you the menu and hurriedly excuses himself to the bathroom. you sigh to yourself as you wait for both your food and your boyfriend. dwelling on the fact that nothing just seems to be working out for you that day.
minutes seem like hours as akaashi finally comes back, the biggest smile on his face and his hands behinds his back. you couldn't help but furrow your eyebrows, "what took you so long?" you ask, voice laced with impatience.
but his smile only grows bigger and more excited, "this," he says as he brings a cute owl plushie in front of you. and a small gasp escapes you as all the negativity harbored throughout the day just fades into giggles. you take the plushie from him, thanking him with a smile as big and equal to his.
❊ BOKUTO seemingly deflates as he misses the target again. he sighs as he rummages his pockets for some spare coins, and unsurprisingly he's spent them all in that stupid little carnival game.
he's been shooting swindling targets with an ineffective toy gun for already half an hour, all so he could get you that cute bear plushie you've been eyeing since earlier.
"kou, it's fine." you take his arm and pull him away from the game, stopping him from wasting any more money. "we can try other games instead."
he looks at your hold on his arm then at you, and upon seeing your smile, his mood immediately changes, as if you were his switch.
he nods his head in agreement, a smile finding its way back to his features, "yeah!" he says much more chipper, "you can hug me tonight instead!"
p.s.: not proofread (as you may have noticed rgbeiurgbej) and i wrote this in one sitting so idk if it feels rushed, anD OHMYGOD I DID NOT SEE THAT U REQUESTED SAKUSA SO I PUT BOKUTO INSTEAD IM SO SORRY IM BLIND
Been thinking thoughts about mean mafia bokuto courtesy of @bunny-rei
He’s got you facing his work, so he can have easier access to smack your cute clit when he feels the need to like now. You’re moving when he sternly told you “Be still pretty girl, I’ll take care of you when I’m done.” And he lands a couple quick slaps in succession,
But you’re so needy today you just keep squirming, he gives you one last deep warning thrust. “ ‘m not gonna tell you again, be still and be my good girl yeah?” You wanted to you really did, always striving to be good for him, but it was like you were on fire, almost sobbing at this point for him to fuck you througly.
Which is how you find yourself bent over his desk papers scattered everywhere, akaashi would have a fit later, but you both didn’t care. He knew he needed to give you what you wanted, the deep thrusts to your cervix proved it, and your whines and whimpers? An extra bonus.
𝘥𝘦𝘴𝘤 - you never planned to be here, pinned against a mattress with bokuto koutarou against your back. but then again, he seems intent on wrecking your plans...
𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵 - 3k words
𝘵𝘸 - smut that’s probably not the best cause it’s my first time (lmao i am a virgin devil’s tango writer), alcohol, marking, oral (m and f receiving), unrealistic depictions of stamina, probably second hand embarrassment
𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘦𝘴 - this is my first time writing the dirty, bear with me. also, reader is way too based off of myself with my antisocial tendencies.
the title is from taylor swift’s willow. yes, i use way too much taylor content do not @ me.
𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘬 𝘺𝘰𝘶 - @meiansmistress and @mianavs for betaing! they're the absolute best and this fic would not be where it is without them 🤍
𝙢𝙞𝙣𝙤𝙧𝙨 𝙙𝙣𝙞 - 18+ content under the cut
Normally, you’d say that you cherished and greatly appreciated your best (and only) friend in Osaka, Ito Kana, but today, that wasn’t really the case.
Kana, being the social butterfly that she was, had met Miya Atsumu a few weeks back at a slightly seedy bar and they had hit it off. Great for her—you entirely supported your friend getting some, and Miya-san didn’t seem too bad, except for his inherent cockiness. Really, you had no issue with them hooking up and being all lovey-dovey in front of your salad. You weren’t the jealous-of-other-people’s-relationship type. Sure, you were open to romance and when you watched Titanic in a horrible Japanese dub you wished for an epic love affair, but you were also content spending nearly every day at home with Netflix as your only companion.
What you did have a problem with was Kana’s insistence on bringing you to a goddamned party of all things. Sure, you occasionally went to an izakaya with coworkers after a particularly grueling project ended, and a drink once in a while was a habit that you weren’t inclined to quit, but you didn’t really do full-on parties. And oh, was today going to be a party.
It was the annual V.League end-of-season bash, and everyone who knew anything about the athletic world knew that it was a wild celebration that psycho party monsters like Miya Atsumu and Ito Kana looked forward to. There would be booze, dancing, crazy stunts, and at least five scandals would come from the infamous night. Kana, ever since meeting Miya-san, had been ecstatically preparing for the party, buying a new dress, rebleaching her hair, and getting her nails done. You, on the other hand, had had no intention of going, even after Miya-san had politely extended an invitation to you out of courtesy since you were Kana’s best friend.
That is, of course, until Kana pulled out her ace.
One afternoon, while you were curled up on the couch trying to get some work in before the weekend, Kana had plopped down next to you, suspiciously quiet. You peeked at her out of the corner of your eye, already dreading what she was about to say. However, it seemed like Kana had no intention of breaking the silence, and after a few tense minutes, you sighed and turned to her.
“What, Kana?” you asked, trepidation bleeding into your voice.
“You should come to the V.League party,” she replied.
“I already told you, I have no intention of getting blackout drunk and waking up with a horrible hangover. There’s nothing interesting that’s going to happen, Kana. I’d rather stay home with Kate and Leo,” you insisted.
Kana rolled her eyes. “What is it with you and Titanic?”
You glared at her. “It is a classic.”
Kana stared at you for a bit before she deadpanned, “Let me rephrase that. You’re going to come to the V.League party with me. You need to get out more.”
That was a bone of contention between you and Kana. You weren’t necessarily an introvert, but she always insisted that you should go out more. Your response, every single time without fail, was, “Kana, we’re not all crazy chronic partiers like you.” It did nothing to dissuade her from trying to drag you out to clubs and bars with her every weekend.
You snorted, “You can’t make me.”
Kana’s smile became predatory. “I can, Y/N. If you don’t come with me, I’m taking away my Netflix account for a month. No more sinking ships or baking shows for four weeks.” Her expression was almost diabolical.
You froze up. “Kana, you wouldn—”
“Oh, I would.”
Netflix was your lifeline, the love of your entire existence, an essential.
You gaped at her in horror. You’d do anything for the streaming service, and that included going to a party that was more likely to annoy than entertain you, and she knew it.
You sighed, caving. “Fine.”
And that was how you found yourself standing there, at the polished bar of an upscale hotel where the season’s leading V.League teams were staying, and where the event of the month was being held.
You aren’t dressed to be eye-catching, instead choosing a simple number that, while accentuating your curves, wasn’t too revealing. You hunch over your drink, trying to avoid having to make small talk, something that you had never enjoyed and positively ran away from as an adult.
You stare down into the depths of the alcoholic beverage in your hands, a happy buzz already filling the edges of your brain, toning down the bright sounds of the party behind you. You musingly wonder how many more of these brightly colored concoctions you could down before you really got drunk—and then you contemplate if you actually wanted to go down that path. It might make the party more bearable, after all…
You’re still lost in thought when a man with black-and-white hair slid into the seat beside you, ordering in a raspy yet warm voice.
“A shot of tequila, please.”
You ignore him, preferring to stare down at the wood grain in the bar top as if it holds the secrets to the universe.
Your plan on avoiding all human contact was shot down when the man leaned toward you.
“Hey hey hey!” greets his enthusiastic voice.
You look up at him, registering bright golden eyes and a beaming grin. “Um… hi,” you cautiously return.
“I’m Bokuto Koutarou, wing spiker for the MSBY Black Jackals! Tsum-tsum sent me over to talk to you because he said you might be lonely.”
Your face burns. You don’t need any pity introductions, especially by your best friend’s newest boy toy. You look away, slightly ashamed of the way your cheeks are heating up.
“I’m fine, Bokuto-san. You can go back to the party,” you murmur, trying to extricate yourself from the embarrassing situation.
Bokuto doesn’t seem to get the hint and plows on. “I don’t mind! You’re pretty! And Tsum-tsum told me that you’re fun to talk to!”
Damn, now your face is definitely on fire. You wonder if Bokuto can see the blush from a few feet away, warming up your entire upper body.
“No, really, I’m okay by myself. I’m sure your teammates want to celebrate with you,” you continue to try to reason with him.
“Nope! I’m gonna stay with you tonight! It’s gonna be fine, trust me,” he insists.
You sigh, already planning an exit plan for when it becomes socially acceptable for you to leave. Bokuto seems nice enough, but you see no value in sticking around to talk to someone who you probably have nothing in common with. Besides, you have no idea if he’s going to start talking about hair gel or something—Atsumu had bored you and Kana for many hours going on and on about his skincare regimen—and you’d rather avoid another athlete monologue.
“Alright, Bokuto-san,” you say. Maybe if you humor him right now, he’ll let you go and you can slink away, back home to your Netflix and Meiji ice cream.
Thirty minutes later the both of you are pretty plastered from the several drinks you had shared after hitting it off. Apparently, you had lived around the same neighborhood in Tokyo, although it was during different time periods.
“You know, you’re like… super pretty. Like… I was watching you from the moment you walked in. Not in a creepy way, though. You’re just really, really pretty.” Bokuto slurs and you giggle, completely out of character for you.
You had already scrapped your plan of running as soon as you could, but now, you were pushing not only your own, but someone like Kana’s limits—more than half of the party’s attendees had already left the venue, going home to puke their guts out or sleep through the effects of the immense amounts of alcohol consumed that night.
“Thank you, Koutarou. You’re not too bad yourself,” you say, putting on an officious facade for comedy’s sake. First names had been exchanged, and over the course of your slow descent into drunkenness, his given name had begun slipping through your lips more and more.
Bokuto leans in, swaying a little bit. “You know… your legs are so long. I think they’d fit so prettily around my waist,” he says, voice dropping an octave and causing a shiver to run down your spine.
Against your better judgment that definitely would’ve perked its head up if you were more sober, you lean in slightly and place your lips next to his ear, noting the shudder that runs up his muscular body.
“Are we trading compliments now, Koutarou?” you whisper sultrily. “Well, then, I bet your hands could fit around my waist.”
Bokuto gulps, Adam’s apple bobbing. Feeling adventurous, you drop a single kiss on the corner of his jaw, soft enough that it could almost be taken as an illusion if Bokuto hadn’t been so attuned to your every motion.
Still, Bokuto is an ace through and through—he gives as good as he gets. “You wanna test that out?” he breathes in your ear, voice somehow conjuring even dirtier images in your mind.
You nod enthusiastically. Fuck your plans, they could wait until you were sober.
He grabs your hand and practically drags you to the elevators, punching the up button as if it had personally wronged him. You hang onto his arm as the elevator rises, too slow for both of your impatient hands.
You don’t full on do anything—the risk of someone else seeing isn’t worth it—but his hand does find its way to your ass, squeezing the soft and supple flesh a few times. Your own wandering digits track your desires to his pecs, tracing patterns against his hard chest.
When the elevator finally gives out a distinctive ping, Bokuto grabs you by the waist, making his way to a door a few meters down the carpeted hallway.
He fumbles with the keycard a few times before getting the door open. As soon as it swings shut behind you, he’s on you, lips slanting over your own and claiming you in a heated kiss.
Your back slams against the door and you grab onto his firm arms, barely holding yourself up. Bokuto drops a kiss to the corner of your mouth before lowering his head to mouth at your neck and collarbone. You breathe in his scent and unconsciously roll your hips against his thick thigh, which has slotted itself between your legs. You keen as he finds the spot at the junction of your neck that makes your knees weak. You feel Bokuto smile against your skin before nipping at the spot, drawing a short gasp from you that turns into a moan as he sucks gently at it to darken the mark.
He fumbles with the zipper on your dress a few times before sliding it off of your body, making you shiver as the cold air hits your bare skin. You scrabble at his buttons, frustration making you grit your teeth until his much bigger hands cover yours and finish the job for you, revealing an expanse of dips and rises that work together to create one of the most sculpted planes of human skin and muscle you’ve ever seen in your life.
Your hands run down his chest and stomach, coming to a stop at his waistband. You glance up at him, licking your lips before speaking. “Can I?”
Bokuto’s voice is gravelly as he voices his consent, throwing his head back as soon as your fingers brush the outline of his hard cock. You drop to your knees and take one last look at him before pulling his zipper down.
“Just so you know, it’s been a while since I’ve done this,” you warn. Bokuto rolls his hips, rutting his cock into your arm.
“T-That’s fine, baby. You’re doing great,” he reassures.
With that last bit of affirmation, you pull his dick out of his boxers and immediately take a deep breath through your teeth.
Bokuto’s big, probably bigger than anyone else you’ve ever taken before. He’s also thick, the width making it hard for you to even fit your hand around it. You gulp before tentatively licking the tip. Bokuto hisses, his pelvis unconsciously thrusting forward.
You brace your left hand on his thigh before ducking forward and taking half of him—all you can on the first try—slurping his hot length into your mouth.
The sound Bokuto makes is obscene and only serves to spur you on. You start bobbing your head slowly, trying to get more of him down your throat. What you can’t fit inside the tight heat of your mouth you stroke with your right hand, twisting your wrist for maximum coverage.
Bokuto’s rutting into your face now, his powerful thrusts doing half the work of getting as much of his cock through your lips. Tears are streaming down your face from the exertion of keeping your mouth open and teeth covered, but from how your pussy is throbbing, skin hot as you let him fuck your mouth, you can tell that your body is enjoying it.
“Nngh—you feel so good, a-ah—right there, take it, take my fucking cock, you look so pretty with it down your throat,” Bokuto grunts above you.
You lock eyes with him, his golden orbs swirling with lust and unbridled desire. “Can I—can I cum in your mouth?”
You hadn’t thought of it, but now that he introduces the idea, you feel your pussy clench around nothing. You quickly nod before bobbing up and down faster, tears overflowing from your eyes from the burn.
With a few more hard ruts of his hips, he’s spilling down your throat, coating it with sticky white substance.
You pull off of him, swallowing his essence before taking a deep breath, trying to get some air back into your lungs.
Bokuto helps you up and lays you down carefully on the bed, tracing his fingers down your body before he stops at the waistband of your panties.
“May I?” he inquires, thumb hooking in the elastic.
“Koutarou, please,” you moan, hips pushing into his palm.
Bokuto grins before sliding the panties down thighs and off of your legs entirely, throwing them over his shoulder to God-knows-where. He stares down at your glistening pussy, already wet and quivering for him.
“Itadakimasu!” he exclaims cheerfully. You barely have time to look down at him before his head is between your thighs, tongue sliding its way up your folds.
You throw your head back and moan, thighs clenching around his head. Bokuto brings a calloused thumb up to rub at your clit, causing you to clench down on his tongue, which he unceremoniously shoved into your entrance. His thumb draws patterns on your nub, and he quickly adds his index and middle finger to the fray with his tongue, scissoring them inside of you to open you up for something else.
He’s rough but passionate, and it’s enough to bring you hurtling towards the edge. With a warning cry of “Kou!”, you’re tumbling off of it, flying towards a climax that causes you to squeeze your eyes shut and scream his name.
Bokuto pulls away, looking satisfied with himself as he licks your slick off of his fingers.
He ruffles around in his bedside drawer before pulling out a condom, quickly ripping it open and sliding it onto his thick shaft, which is once again red and swollen. Bokuto taps it a few times against your cunt, still sopping from his saliva and your excretion. “Can I put it in?” he asks gently.
You’re still riding the high of your orgasm from moments before, but you nod groggily. Bokuto groans and pushes forward, breaking past the ring of tight muscles that guard your entrance. “Ugh, Y/N, you’re so—you’re so fucking tight,” he bites out.
You rock your hips against his, because even though you had just been thoroughly eaten out by him a few minutes prior, you can already feel the embers of desire stirring in your belly again.
“K-Kou, feels so good, keep going, don’t stop,” you moan, incoherently.
He obliges, flipping you over and pinning you against the mattress, pressing your chest to the sheets with your ass up for him to continue to piston his cock in and out of your pussy.
He drives back in relentlessly, setting a pace that has the bed creaking. The air quickly fills with the smell of sex and the sounds of the grunts and moans that come from both of you, lost in the haze of pleasure you’ve created together.
“F-faster, Kou!” you demand.
Bokuto groans. “You’re going to be the death of me, Y/N.”
His thrusts become even more rapid, punching into you. The stimulation to your clit from his balls slapping against it has the coil in your stomach tightening once again, gathering itself together from when it had sprung open when Bokuto ate you out.
You rock back against him, both of you chasing highs that guarantee to be as bright as supernovas. His fingers dig into your hips—turns out that while you weren’t completely right, they still make it a fair bit of the way—hard enough that you know that they’ll be marks in the morning.
With two more hard thrusts you’re spiraling into your climax once again, this one harder than the last. Bokuto rams into you, relentlessly chasing his own orgasm while prolonging your own. You become limp in his arms, but your cunt seems to have a mind of its own, squeezing down on Bokuto’s cock.
He groans and thrusts into you one last time before spilling into the condom, then falling down next to you with his cock still buried in your pussy, latex rubbing against your oversensitive walls. He gathers you into his arms, burying his head into your shoulder.
Fucked out and dazed, you stare at the ceiling.
“That was nice, Y/N,” he murmurs quietly.
“Mmm,” you reply.
Whatever. You can deal with the fallout of your shattered plans in the morning.
## a/n: i am so bad at giving presents why am i doing a drabble for giving presents omgggggg sigh also different format! I am trying different things out to see what sticks uwu
hear me out
the present you should give Bokuto is just you.
bokuto isn’t much of a material person and he just loves his life the way it is as he gets to live through it with his friends, family and you
let’s take Christmas for example
you would call bokuto to unwrap his present but all he saw was you sitting under the tree, wrapped in ribbons with a bow pasted on you to top it all of
“honey, what’s this???”
“me. i am your present.”
bokuto would not be able to stop his giggles as he pulls the ribbon off of you
once it was off, he would pull you into his arms as the both of you tumbled onto your backs.
you really are the best present for him. he thought he had it all with his family and his friends made through his passion for volleyball, but love has its own plans for bokuto
you know how couples always find new things to gift each other and make tiktoks about it to rub it in our faces
so ya atsumu is a simp for that
atsumu would love to a couple of matchy items for the both of you but big babie man just cant decide
so before he could settle for a gift, you decided to buy the matching lego necklace that forms a heart :”)
he would wear it everywhere — shower, his games, to bed when sleeping….really almost everywhere
he would never take it off because to him, it will always be a piece that connects him back to you
and that also works on the converse. atsumu would never tell anyone this but he loves that you have a piece that connects you back to him because it also subtly hints to people that you only have eyes for him and him only
he also developed the habit of fiddling with the necklace, tracing the bumps of the lego while thinking or just anything
that reminds me!!!!!! before his games, he would clutch at his necklace while searching for you in the crowd, fiddling with it to distract him from the thought that you might not be there.
but you will always be there for him. the moment he spots you cheering for him, he felt his heart go boom boom. fireworks, adrenaline. only you could make him feel that way
whenever yall cuddle, atsumu would glance to see if you are wearing yours. he would then fit it together, stare at it, before blushing profusely and giggling to himself
baby is probably so stressed with work so the best way to treat him is a day of rest in the cat cafe
pffft whaaaaat no i am not projecting domestic!osamu
osamu would be reluctant to take the cat in his arms just because the cat looked so contented eating its food
despite his inhibitions, he was excited to see the cats take the first step towards him
initially, the cat was still shy, brushing the tail against osamu’s fingers but still walking back towards him.
soon enough, he was doting on the cat in his arms
think of osamu rubbing the cat’s neck and belly as it purrs.
do you feel jealous? me too.
playing with many cats soon tired you out so osamu invited you to rest your head on his shoulders while he continues to play with the cat
keep in mind that the cat is still in his arms so the image of the two of you resembles that of a parent and their child
“babe i want a cat.”
you didn’t take him seriously so you just nodded and nestled closer to him to peer at the cat rubbing its head against his chest.
imagine your surprise when he talks about getting a cat the first thing in the morning when you wake up the next day
not exactly a present but you should definitely surprise kita with a picnic where the both of you would just watch the sunset while eating all your favourite food, talking about anything under the sun
i have a feeling that kita’s love language is quality time with his s/o, like he just cherishes you for you
the both of you could sit in silence and he would still be brimming with joy and warmth.
imagine his surprise when he opened the bento box to see his favourite tofu burger. as he continues opening all the bento boxes one by one, his smile grew bigger and bigger as he noticed that you cooked and prepared everything that he loved.
and kita loves that he could relax and enjoy eating what he loves, along with the person he loves most
kita would be in bigger shock when he realised the amount of time and effort you placed into cooking everything
after eating loads of food, food coma soon settles in and both of you just sat in each other’s arms.
food coma does wonders. like yes kita is tired but hey, every last bit of self-control was gone and we have kita kissing you on your forehand, your hand, your lips, thanking you for loving him.
ugh I’m in my feels now.
#1 thing we needed but didnt know we needed: surprising suna with an amusement park date
imagine walking around disneyland with suna wearing matching mickey mouse headbands, holding hands and fighting to take the last bite off the cotton candy on the stick
lets talk about roller coasters first
suna would either be close to tears and screaming his heart out or he would just be riding it with no expression, saying “aaaaa” in the most deadpanned manner.
no, there is no in between for the above
but hey if you were scared of roller coasters, suna is an attentive person and would take your hand in his without saying anything
he would never let go of your hand while queuing for the ride, only rubbing your hand and encouraging you as the two of you get closer to the ride
the intensity of the ride wore both of you down to your knees so you and suna are just going to be clinging onto one another and wobbling to the next ride
the cycle repeats
the two of you would end the day taking pictures of one another on the merry-go-round. your bright smile illuminated by the rosy light of the ride.
suna fails to get a good picture because the horse just keeps going up and down
૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა thank you for reading !! likes and rbs are always appreciated <3
— “Apex Alphas are above other Alphas and stand at the top of the hierarchy, which is presented by their powerful and strong scents.” — Omegaverse Dynamics description on Apex Alphas
Reader is an omega, but is gender neutral.
— Apex Alphas are typically hard to come by, rare to see in society especially when you’re going through high school. Alphas are hardly uncommon, although most people you meet will be Betas and not any of the other sub-genders. When you stumbled upon Bokuto in your life, you expected him to be just another Alpha.
— How wrong you were. The entire Fukurōdani volleyball team was comprised of Betas, save for Coach Takeyuki who was an Alpha. You didn’t expect to worry about any other Alphas when you went to drop off your classmate’s notes he let you borrow. Akaashi was a very reserved Beta from what you knew, but watching him in volleyball was like seeing a new side of him. Then you met Bokuto.
— As an Omega, you could immediately tell something in the gym was off. A strong scent immediately invaded your nose, unlike any other Alpha you’ve ever smelled. You had to actually cover your nose as you looked around, noticing nobody was even near that entrance of the gym, making you even more suspicious. However, you had a duty to drop off Akaashi’s notes.
— The coach’s scent was much different from the one that invaded your senses, a subtle earthy musk that reminds you of forests in the rain. No, this scent was a cedar musky scent, reminding you of bonfire night in autumn. This scent was clinging to your body as soon as you stepped in the gym.
— It was, of course, Bokuto Kōtarō. Never met him, never seen him, never smelled him. But now he was there and very noticeable. That’s when you noticed the collar. While the coach adorned a black collar, Bokuto wore a golden collar, telling his position in the hierarchy. You’ve never encountered an Apex, hardly hearing about them in society, but there was one right in front of you. It made sense how Fukurōdani went to Nationals when he came into the picture, now.
— How you two ended up together is in the past, but you always found your eyes drawn to the golden collar he wore. Even when you gifted him a ribbon, it just entranced you further. His own gold ribbon was on your white collar, reminding him of his high school. You gifted him a black ribbon when he got on the MSBY team to match colors, thinking it was cute how excited he got.
— His ruts were powerful and intense. The first time he helped you through a heat, you were worried he’d end up hurting you because of how big and strong he is, but his scent easily eased your worries and you had one of the best heats. His rut came and you were even more terrified when it came around. Territorial, he is always up against you, pressing his nose into any curve against your skin. He’s rough, too, hands constantly grabbing at your body as his teeth find themselves biting into your skin.
— His scent is powerful on its own, showing off his dominance even if you can’t see his collar. Whenever he gets serious, it gets even more overwhelming, sending you to your knees wherever you are. During his rut, it’s just even more intense and overwhelming, no breaks. Not even the poor people around your house get to go by oblivious, sensing the heavy scent and quickly walking by. You’re always trying to see if you can somehow calm down his scent, but it’s too powerful for you to do a thing.
Licking his lips, Bokuto looms over you as you practically shake under his gaze. Intense golden eyes refuse to move off of your body, his hands easily removing your clothes as if they’re paper thin. The shredding of clothes is easy to ignore when your brain is muddled with his scent, overwhelming your senses as your body responds accordingly. Even without any medicine to sync your cycles, Bokuto’s rut has an almost immediate effect of spurring you in a heat cycle.
Even though you’ve been with Bokuto for yours, the silver bell occasionally chiming on him as he moves around, adjusting his body to completely encompass yours as he presses his lips and teeth to your skin, you’ll never get used to such a thing. When his tongue flicks the golden bell on your own collar, you’re startled from your thoughts as he nose dives next to the collar, inhaling deeply. His hands roughly grab at parts of your body, kneading flesh as he spreads your legs. With nothing between you two, he doesn’t hold back from pushing into you, lips trailing long your collarbone until his tongue laps over the bond he made on you years ago.
Nothing will ever be as painful as the first time he entered you, spreading you as far as you would go, but he was never an easy and painless fuck. His cock was big and thick, easily pushing so far into you felt as though there was a brick in your stomach, soft and rubbing against your walls. He’d never be able to knot you unless you were in your heat, covered in slick and dripping with your orgasm. Your nails could barely do any damage to him, pink streaks down his back as he swallowed your cries and fucked you with every bit of stamina he could muster. You’d always find yourself satisfied, just as he’d be satisfied, although he could never really get enough of you.
"Work sucked ass today. I can't wait to get home!" were the words Bokuto ranted to you on a phone call home, your heart sympathizing with his current mood. "Aww, I promise to make it all better once you get here!"
A housewife, a damn good one at that. Marrying Bokuto came with its perks. He showered you with unconditional love, gifts, and time, even when he didn't have much to spare.
In return, you cultivated the home into a space where Bokuto could feel at ease just by smelling the aromatic vanilla mint candle burning from the front door.
Just as the gears of the locks turned, you tugged at the delicate lace panties sinking into your skin. It just happened to be his favorite matching, a black lace that left just enough to the imagination. You cover it all with a sheer robe, the red velvet shade complementing your shade with incomparable elegance.
Bokuto's an easy man to ruffle, almost anything would turn his face into the purest shade of pink. You walk towards the kitchen, positioning yourself in such a way that couldn't be ignored.
"Welcome home Honey!" You giggle, leaning against the kitchen counter. He stops in his tracks, the clatter of his case hitting the floor echoing around the walls.
"Uh...hey...Angel," Bokuto croaks, his eyes frantically scanning your body. You inch towards him, your arms clasped behind you. A thin grin curls onto your lips, watching as Bokuto's face instantly grew aflush with pink. His chest couldn't hold in the air, the breaths staggering with each exhale.
You drifted your sights between his plush lips and glossed eyes, bringing a hand to rest atop his shoulder.
"Are you nervous about something Kou? I'm all ears," you whisper softly, pressing a soft kiss on the corner of Bokuto's mouth. Any words he could have formed dissolves at your touch, pacifying whimpers trickling from him.
Your hand runs down his chest, fingers lacing around his tie. The black silk knot unravels with ease, freeing him from the formal wear of the day.
"Don't tell me," you continue in a whispering tone, your warm breath tingling the skin of Bokuto's ear. His heartbeat began to race, the tense moment edging him on.
"I'm the one making you this flustered. Do I make you nervous...Koutaro?"
Immediately, Bokuto smashes his lips onto yours, knocking you back. His hands slide down the curve of your back, the heat from his palm seeping through the thin fabric of the velvet robe and kneading the flesh of your ass. You cling to the nape of his neck, pulling your body into his. He breaks the kiss with a sadistic grin curling onto his face.
"Shit, I'm so lucky to have you as my wife. Just look at how stunning you are, wearing everything I like. You did all this for me?"
You nod your head, his words coaxing a smile to curl onto your moist lips. "I told you I'd make your day better. What do you wanna do is the real question?"
Without a moment's delay, Bokuto lift you into the air, his arms latching around your hips. In between kisses along your neck he mumbles, "I wanna make you feel good, it's the only thing on my mind right now."
After only a few steps, you find yourself landing straight into the bed, the man before you stripping down to his briefs.
"C'mon Kou, your wife's waiting," you tease, your hand running down your chest. Just before you could reach the band of your lace bottoms, Bokuto pinned your hand down to your stomach. "Don't get needy, Y/N. I'm barely getting started with you," he urges, his hand filling the space midway of your thighs.
You watch as Bokuto snakes the cloth from your hips until a simple rip grants him the access he'd miss all day. "I know what you're thinking. Expect for us to go shopping this weekend for more," he announces proudly.
Bokuto runs the pad of two fingers along the skin, pulling apart the puffy fold to reveal the swollen mound of your clit. "Such a pretty pussy and it's all for me," he whispers as a reminder to him. It still amazes him that someone of your caliber was his wife, someone to come home to.
And you were all his for the pleasing.
Bokuto tease your pulsating slit first, the tip of his nose brushing against the bare nerves of your clit. The way your body started to twitch acts as a sign that you felt everywhere he touched.
The flat of his tongue drags a painstakingly slow stripe, collecting every single drop of your slick. He draws back for a second, Bokuto licking his plump lips to catch the beloved flavor before returning to have his fill.
You grasp the sheets beneath you, a desperate mewl surging from your gaping lips. Instinctively, you jerk away Bokuto's relentless tongue, but he takes hold of your waist to restrict any more unnecessary movement. "You must like it to be moving like that," he chuckles ahead of glossing your cunt with another swipe of his tongue.
"Wait, Kou–I can't take anymore!" you sob into the palm of your clamped hand. Bokuto only nods, sucking your glistened folds into his greedy mouth. He moved his tongue with such skill, each flick, roll, and kiss could be felt all throughout your overwhelmed body.
He began to hum to himself, the vibrations traveling through the sensitive bundle of nerves. As much as you wanted to move, Bokuto grip only forced you to take the onslaught of it all.
It wasn't long until the knot in your stomach began to loosen, your body squirming in Bokuto's firm gasp. As your back curved into a harsh arch, the rough hands of your husband quickly slid beneath you, his eyes pinned on the sight.
"So fucking beautiful," he whimpers into your naval, laying a few pecks into your skin. Your hand clings to his hair, the frosted tips gathering in your hold.
Bokuto sat himself up, the obvious bulge catching your lidded eyes. He slips a hand into his briefs, a shudder running through his body. As he pulled his hand out, his thumb was shrouded in a familiar white slick to your own.
"You made such a mess out of me. Help me clean up?" He asked, wiping the precum along your bottom lip. You nod your head, your lips pulling Bokuto's thumb into your mouth. Soft whines rang from your throat, only driving the need you had for Bokuto.
"Aww, use your words, Angel. You already know I'll give you everything that pretty heart of yours desires, so tell me...what do you want?"
Your supple hands encircle his wrist, gently tugging Bokuto's soaked fingers from your mouth, the gossamer strand of saliva catching the light from above. "Please give me more, Koutaro. I want you...so bad, it hurts."
Your words alone spurred a flame within Bokuto, his eagerness to please you driving his every action. He held the underside of your thigh, pulling apart the trembling limbs for his body to fill.
Resting on his haunches, Bokuto yanks the now strained briefs from his body, tossing them towards a corner of the room. He plants a hand beside your head, his magnificent figure hunkering above you.
"Y'know, I love having you under me. The faces you make just turn me on so much," he grins. You push back a few loose hairs fighting to make an appearance in the moment from his head, your teeth pinching the flesh of your bottom lip. There's always a similar glimmer in Bokuto's eye that screams pure innocence, even when he was just about to ruin you.
"Mhm...you always act so–shit!"
Before finishing the sentence, an airy gasp left from both your lungs, his thumping tip slipping into your fluttering hole. Your body swept away the delicious burn, the pain melting with the pleasure. Inch by inch, Bokuto filled you to the brim, the pit in your stomach growing nearly grave. Only moans could leave from your lips, the feeling too great for words.
His slicked length persisted on being buried deep inside you, Bokuto's thrusts strong with determination. Beads of sweat dot his hairline, the perspiration spreading along his bare chest. "Feel good yet? The way you sound, I'm doing a decent job," Bokuto laughs, his sights focused on your flustered expression.
You prop yourself up, elbow digging into the mattress. Of course, you didn't last too long, your head tilting back from the exhilarating rush. Bokuto's lips stuck to the skin of your collarbone, suckling at the salty-ridden patch.
"I love you so much, you know that, right?" He breathed, the vigor of Bokuto's thrusts beginning to grow sloppy. You met his blazoned gaze, the perfect shade of gold peering into your eyes. "I do, and I love you more, Honey," you reply, barely being able to find anything to bring your body back from its impending high.
At the height of the moment, Bokuto drove his entire length into you, a pitchy moan escaping him. You soon followed suit, stiffing beneath him. You both fell back onto the bed, the lewd potion of cum coating Bokuto's dick and your inner thigh.
Bokuto dropped beside you, the weight of his body keeping you still. He held your hand in his own, his lips hovering above the glimmering diamond ring.
There was one question he had in mind..."Did I please you, Y/N?"
I have not been able to get the thought of puppy boy Bokuto out of my head lately-
I just wanna hear his sweet little whines 😫
The way his eyes would go wide at glitter with excitement the second you step in the door-
The way you've barely just sat down and his already grabbing your leg and whimpering so prettily, his fingers digging into your skin as he grinds on your thigh so desperate for your touch
The way his tail goes a million miles an hour when you finally give in and lead him upstairs to tend to his aching cock- you know just how to make him feel as good as possible- all his most sensitive spots, all while he squirms and whines underneath you, cute fluffy ears twitching as you stroke him
You can tell when he's close because he starts to get frantic- harshly bucking his hips up into your hand, toned abs tightened up, eyes screwed shut- his tail that was previously swaying contendly gets faster and faster the closer he gets- you just revel in the sight of this big beefy boy crying out in pleasure-
And when he finishes- oh, when he finishes- he practically screams your name as he cums, spilling out all over himself, your hand, the sheets- (I imagine he has a lot of cum, he probably has hyperspermia) drool drips down his chin as his tongue lolls out of his mouth
And afterwards he's completely worn out- chest glistening with sweat and heaving as he's panting, tongue still hanging out- his whole body is trembling in the aftershock of his orgasm- he can barely keep his eyes open
After cleaning him up you slip into bed beside your cute little pet- his eyes glistening with pure adoration for you, tail gently swishing under the sheets, he completely relaxed in your embrace, and you hear him mumble "Thank you momma.." before drifting off to sleep in your arms <3
summary: whoever said being adult was fun obviously never had bills to pay. so when Akaashi offers up a way to earn cash fast, you jump at the opportunity. except, you never thought you’d find yourself modeling in your underwear... least of all with Bokuto Kotaro
tags; fluff, humor, college au, mentions of very slight nudity
✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧
If anyone else other than Akaashi offered you this position, you would probably punch them right in the face.
Maybe he considers this payback for all the times he’s had to listen to you whine about your problems during your shared shifts at the cafe, or maybe this truly was his own sadistic way of attempting to provide support.
“Okay, so I know a way you can make easy money,” he started, and already those words should have sent alarm bells ringing in your head, but this was Akaashi. You’ve only really known him for a short time, but already you knew he wouldn’t lead you astray.
But really, the electronic shop five blocks from campus told you it would cost 55000 yen to repair your laptop monitor, so you weren’t exactly in a position to be picky.
You had also been complaining to him for the past forty minutes -- about the broken laptop, the leaking faucet in your apartment, the textbook that cost you more than your groceries for the past month, the two hours of sleep you got last night, and your paychecks that were all but depleted once the bills were paid. He remained tightlipped throughout your whole tirade, so you suppose the least you could do was hear him out.
“You’re not trying to sell my kidneys, right…” You mumble sarcastically, but you tilt your head to him anyway to show you were listening.
“No, sadly, it’s not quite the season for kidneys yet,” Akaashi delivers in a flat tone, “So you’re just going to have to deal with modeling.”
“Modeling?” Your reaction was harsh and loud, and you flinched away from the piercing glares of cafe regulars trying to study in peace.
Akaashi smirks as he wipes down the steamer before replying, “Don’t worry, it’s not the kind of modeling you’re thinking.”
Your mouth dropped, and you raised an eyebrow as you crossed your arms, scoffing at Akaashi incredulously.
“Are you trying to send me to a nudie shoot?!” you whisper in almost-mock offense, but now a part of you was a little worried that your favorite coworker was a secret pervert.
To your utter relief, Akaashi just laughs. “God, no. Well, I guess, kind of?”
At this point, your head was beginning to spin. “What do you mean kind of? Just spit it out already, Akaashi.”
Akaashi finally finishes cleaning off the coffee machine just as you finished replenishing the pastry displays, and in an unusual lull in customers, he’s able to lean against the bar and give you his undivided attention.
“My art professor pays the models for her figure drawing class a pretty decent amount of money, I think,” Akaashi tells you, and your eyes begin to sparkle. “She mentioned a couple of slots being open.”
“Really?” your interest was immediately piqued, “How much money?”
Akaashi shrugs. “Enough to strike at least one problem off your list, probably.”
That was all you needed to hear. Akaashi had given you his professor’s contact information, and you sent her an email the second you had clocked out of your shift.
Professor Nobuta was a kind woman who emailed you back with such haste, you could feel her desperation matching yours. She was candid during the entirety of your exchange, saying that her usual model had dropped out last minute and there was a spot in her class tomorrow that she needed to fill as soon as possible. Lucky for both of you, you were actually available, and details were exchanged swiftly.
As you read over the requirements, your eyes roved over two words in a section of the email that made your eyes bulge out of your head.
You blinked once. Then twice.
You had already formulated a kind rejection in your mind, ready to type your response when another section caught your eye. You inwardly groaned, dropping your head into your hands.
She was offering you almost as much as two shifts at the cafe.
That, alone, was enough to convince you, but the look of relief on Professor Nobuta’s face when you walked through the doors of her classroom was confirmation you made the right decision.
The seats around the classroom were nearly all filled, some students preparing their materials across their desks, and others sitting back and scrolling through their phones. The whirring of the A/C had filled the room with white noise, and you take notice of the two empty stools in the middle of the room.
“Thank you so much for signing up, L/N-san,” Professor Nobuta bowed profusely, and she gestured to a table for you to leave your things. “We’re still waiting on the other model, so take your time, and have a seat on the stool when you’re ready.”
You nodded in acknowledgement, and Professor Nobuta makes her way back to her desk. You briefly wonder if she was going to point you in the direction of a changing room, but realized the redundancy when everyone in the room was meant to stare at your half naked body anyway.
You begrudgingly peeled off your clothes, folding them neatly before placing them in a pile on the table. Your footsteps made hardly any noise as you walked across the room, desperately trying hard to act nonchalant.
Just as you took a seat in one of the empty stools, you heard someone pull the door open and loudly clamber inside.
“Ahh, welcome back, Bokuto-san!”
Your eyes widened at the name the professer had just yelled across the room. You brace yourself as you quickly whip your head around, and standing by the door sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck was Bokuto Kotaro.
Student Athlete, Volleyball Star, Most Wanted Bachelor Bokuto Kotaro smiled brightly as he skipped to the table your items were placed, apologizing profusely for being late. All eyes followed him like moths, and Bokuto was the bright flame. Everyone knew him, and you often saw him walking across the quad, always greeting at least twenty people on the way.
You could hardly hear what Professor Nobuta was saying to him, and you were now unabashedly staring as Bokuto began to strip out of his clothes.
Bokuto was built like a marble statue -- hard lines that traveled across his chest and traced his abs must have been painstakingly carved with the utmost care by a masterful artist, and every movement he made created new shapes along his muscled body. You found yourself instantly wishing you had even an ounce of artistic talent, because it was no doubt that Bokuto was every figure artists’ dream.
All at once, your vision was filled with gold and a sweet smile, and too late did you realize you had just been caught staring. Bokuto’s eyes don’t leave yours as he stands up straight, and struts over to you in nothing but a pair of nude briefs.
“Alright, everyone, your timed session is about to begin,” Professor Nobuta’s voice had startled you nearly out of your seat, and you turn your head back to face the class, cringing inwardly when you noticed some were smirking at you, “Feel free to request poses from the models, as this will be a graded assignment. We only have an hour and a half, so make the most out of your time.”
You feel your body stiffen as Bokuto takes the empty seat next to you, staying silent when you feel his eyes staring at you. You might have been able to ignore this in another setting, but at the moment, about fifty students were watching him watching you -- eyes flitting up the stage down to their sketchbook as they try to decide where to begin.
Envy coursed through you as the room began to fill with the sounds of graphite scratching against paper, wishing you could switch positions with literally anybody else in the room. You tried to relax your body against the stool, awkwardly attempting to find a natural position for your arms when you were interrupted by a throat clearing.
Your head turns to the side, heat rushing to your face when you see Bokuto smiling at you.
“Hi,” he greets, his voice a direct contrast against the silent concentration filling the room, “I’m Bokuto!”
His knees were bent as he settled his feet on the first ring of the stool. He rests an elbow on his thigh so he can place his chin on the palm of his hand, giving you an expectant look as he waits for your response. You try to avoid the way his chest seemed to bulge even more in this position, but the furious sound of sketching says you weren’t the only one to notice.
“Bokuto Kotaro,” you say his name back, and he pulls his lips back into an even wider smile, “I know.”
You bite your lip when a student from the back requested for you to cross your legs, resting your hand against your thighs. You’re not sure if you’re supposed to be talking, but Professor Nobuta didn't seem to be paying either of you any mind.
He hadn’t said anything to you after that, but the grin remained on his lips as requests begin coming in from students across the class.
They were all fairly simple -- please position your hand like so, could you extend your leg this way, or turn your head that way. The first twenty minutes had been spent doing individual tasks and repositioning, and soon you felt yourself relaxing into your role. Your previous jitters had all but dissolved, and you figured if the rest of the session were to go on like this, then you’d be golden.
Your eyes shift over to Bokuto, who was leaning back with such easy grace, balancing himself with his foot against the footrest. The way his body created such naturally eloquent lines made it seem as if he was born to be a sculpture, to be admired and gazed at, to invoke inspiration and creation. You weren’t sure anyone in this room was even looking at you anymore, with Bokuto acting as if he was the lighthouse in a storm, beckoning all of you to come home.
He turns his head a second too quickly, winking when his eyes meet yours, and for the second time in less than an hour, you realize you’ve just been caught checking him out.
Your dignity was slipping through your fingers like sand, and you clear your throat before turning your attention to a poster on the wall.
From the corner of your eye, you see Professor Nobuta stand from her desk and making her way to a student in the corner. The two whisper among each other, and you watched as the professor consults with other students before nodding her head and turning to the both of you.
“I received a sort of direction from a few students,” she began, beckoning for the both of you to stand, “They were hoping you could do some more intimate poses.”
You balked, nearly choking on the air in our lungs. “I-intimate?”
Professor Nobuto nodded her head enthusiastically, and you exchanged a look with Bokuto.
“Whatever you’re comfortable with — an embrace, hand holding, hands on each other’s face — get creative with it!”
And with that, the professor sits back down on her desk and begins flipping through her phone, and the two of you are left to brace the expectant looks of the art students staring up at you.
“This your first time?” Bokuto asks you gently, a sort of sympathetic look on his face as his eyes study your stiff posture.
“Yeah,” you admit, and he coaxes you towards him with an outstretched hand. You hesitantly place your fingers in his palm, and for a moment, he just stood there. It took a minute for the sounds of rapid sketching to register in your brain, and you realize he’s allowing the class to take note of this pose.
He’s standing directly across from you now, and you can feel his gaze burning trails across your body as he regards you from head to toe. You feel like an ant burning under the beam of a microscope, and you nearly burst into flames when he chuckles.
“Nice peach,” Bokuto comments, and you nearly recoil back in surprise. The last thing you had expected from Bokuto was a comment like that, but then you notice his eyes flick back down to your underwear.
The professor’s email hadn’t included too many rules or requirements. She only included the most important details, such as time, place, pay, dress code, and such. Stated in the dress code, you were allowed to wear undergarments of any neutral color. Today, you had chosen a simple pair of black underwear and figured it was the safest choice.
You hadn’t, however, noticed the large cartoon peach that had gracefully adorned the back of it, complete with a cartoon face that winked sparkles. Now that you were forced to stand, and the entire class got a good view for themselves.
“Thanks,” you deadpan through gritted teeth, “It’s pretty juicy if you asked me.”
Bokuto fails miserably to hide a smirk, but his eyes sparkled with amusement as he looked down at you.
A few minutes (or eternity) later, his hand closes around yours, pulling it up to place against his cheek. He pulls you in by the other wrist, wrapping your arm around his waist as he cups the side of your neck. His other arm wraps almost completely around your middle, and he pulls you flush against his chest.
His body was hard against yours, and you had no doubts he could feel your heart’s hundreds of beats per second. He tilts his head to the side ever so slightly, and you hope he doesn’t notice the sheen of sweat beginning to collect on your upper lip.
A fire was bound to be started with how quickly everyone around began to move their pencils, and you heart races when Bokuto absentmindedly draws circles on your skin with his thumb.
He holds you in this embrace for much longer than you anticipated, and the butterflies in your stomach were making you nauseous. His eyes are trained on your face now, the intensity of his stare making you want to shrink back, but you hold your place and return his gaze.
His eyes narrow and squint, eyebrows wiggling as his face scrunches up in thought.
“Do I know you?” Bokuto asks, and it was in this moment where you felt your stomach flip flop into the abyss. It was the one question you had hoped he wouldn’t think to ask you.
Because you did know Bokuto Kotaro, but not in the way everyone else on campus knew him.
You remember clearly the slow, dreary Wednesday morning when Akaashi Keiji asks you the same thing.
“Uh, yeah? Of course, you know me, we’re coworkers,” you replied sarcastically, and Akaashi insists it was more than that.
“You’re hiding something from me,” he simply states, and you inwardly thanked the customer that had walked and interrupted that moment.
But you should have known that Akaashi was not one to let things go, and after being berated the entire shift about how secrets don’t keep friends, you finally confessed.
You were a student at Fukurodani.
Akaashi didn’t believe you. There was no way, how was that possible? He would have recognized you. But you were the year above him, and had actively avoided school sports. Because as much as you would have liked to watch your school’s Nationally Ranked Volleyball Club play and compete with super hot athletes from across the country, there was one glaring reason why you couldn’t.
You had confessed to Bokuto Kotaro in your first year.
And you were soundly, and absolutely rejected.
He had every right to, of course. You were just his classmate, you didn’t even know each other that well, and he needed to focus all his attention on volleyball. It made sense.You know that now.
But to your young heart, it was world ending, soul crushing even, and it took you two years to get over your ridiculous one-sided crush.
Now here you were, standing in front of a group of people in nothing but your underwear, with Bokuto staring at you like a fly caught in a trap.
“No, I don’t think so,” you respond, and Bokuto scoffs.
“You’re a bad liar,” he whispers, and you find yourself grinning.
“How would you know?” You whisper back, “You just met me.”
“No, I definitely know you —“
“Alright, everyone,” Professor Nobuto announces with a smack on her desk, “That about does it for today’s session. Give some thanks to your models!”
You jump back from Bokuto as the class offers a light round of applause. The two of you bow back, and you rush over to the table as the professor approaches Bokuto.
You leave the two of them to chat as you hurriedly put your clothes back on, hoisting your bag up on your shoulder, and nearly falling over putting your shoes on.
“Thank you for today,” Professor Nobuto sneaks up from behind, a smile on her face as she hands you a blank white envelope, “I hope I see your name on the sign up sheet again.”
You offer her a grin as you accept the envelope. “Thank you for the opportunity!”
And with that, you rush out of the stuffy room and make a bee line towards the door.
“Hey, Peaches!” Bokuto’s voice makes you freeze from across the room, and you turn around to see him adorned only his pants. “You never told me your name?”
With a smirk, you put your hand on the handle, walking out the door as you yelled over your shoulder.
“I thought you said you knew me!”
✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧
“That was a trap, wasn’t it,” you accuse Akaashi as soon as you see him again, walking into your shift at the café just as he was about to clock out.
His smile was almost evil, punching out as he gathers his jacket.
“Whatever could you possibly mean, dear coworker,” he replies, and you smack him on the shoulder.
“You had to have known Bokuto was doing that,” you seethe, glaring at Akaashi, “And you knew about… about… you’re dangerous, Akaashi Keiji.”
He laughs, waving you off, “You said you needed help, so I offered help.”
“Oh, you conniving little —“
“Akaashi, you ready?” A familiar voice cuts you, making your head twist towards the door.
A set of white and black streaked hair, a devilish grin, bright twinkling eyes — your nightmare in human form walking in.
His eyes widen as they meet yours from across the room, and he waves a hand in the air as if you could have possibly missed the six foot three volleyball player barely fitting through the door frame.
“Hey, Peaches!” He greets cheerfully, walking and leaning against the counter, “Fancy running into you here.”
“Peaches?” Akaashi asks, and your eyes shoot him a nasty glare.
“I work here,” you reply, and Bokuto’s eyes widen.
“Akaashi, why wouldn’t you tell me you have such a cutie for a coworker?!” He demands of his best friend, who simply rolls his eyes and heads out the door.
“Let’s go, Bokuto-san!”
“Akaashi! Hey, wait,” Bokuto runs one step to the door but stops and turns back, “If I come back tomorrow, you gonna tell me your name then?”
You laugh. “I don’t work tomorrow.”
“I’ll ask Akaashi for your schedule then!” He screams as he runs out the door.
The smile on your face stayed on for the rest of your shift.
You wait anxiously for your boyfriend, Bokuto, to come back home.
It’s been two hours since the light went off. No internet, no credit, no phone.
You flinch at the smallest noise you hear and curl up in your bed, covering your already sweaty body to hide from who knows what demons.
Living with a boyfriend who is out nearly all day has somehow made you addicted to internet, being it the only distraction while you wait for him to come back, but now that the lights are out in the whole city and your dumb brain didn’t recharge your phone, you are lost.
What annoys you the most is that it’s not even pitch black; if it was, then at least it would feel like you are sleeping, no monster could scare you since you wouldn’t be able to see them, but the faint light of the moon and the stars reflect weird shadows in your room, creating monsters with weird postures, making you tremble at the sight.
“Kchak”. A noise. You are all too familiar with this noise, everytime you heard this noise, you would jump out of your bed leaving behind whatever you were doing to finally welcome home your lover engulfing him in a warm hug, but today, while that sound does make you relieved, it also startles you.
What if it’s not him? What if some robber or killer took this opportunity to attack you? You stay in your bed, silent, holding your breathe.
“I’m home!” the cheerful voice makes you exhale, finally, FINALLY your boyfriend was home.
You waste no time and carefully reach the door in the dark, having memorized the map of your home in many years spent together.
“Huh? Why it’s so dark? Why are the lights not switching on?” you hear your boyfriend clicking the light switch multiple times with no result.
“KOUUU!!” You jump on him, wrapping your arms tightly around his waist.
“Y/n?? Baby what happened?” he exchanges your hug, worried, rubbing your back.
“The lights went off in the whole city! I didn’t recharge my phone so I couldn’t call you and couldn’t even pass the time on internet! I was SOOO bored AND scared, it feels like I waited for an eternity” You cry in his arm, hugging him even tighter, letting go all of your worry, frustration and fear.
“Awww baby, I’m so sorry for being so late, I missed you like crazy” He pats your head and kisses your forehead gently.
As you both start to walk to your room, a light illuminates your house and you smile fondly towards Bokuto.
I literally do not know what did I write. I just wrote this when I had no internet and was bored as hell.