#msby bokuto | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

potionpeddlerpatchy · 1 year

Text

word count: 7.2K

paring: Bokuto x fReader

warning(s): panty stealing, male masturbation - in several locations (shower, bedroom, laundry room), scent kink (wasn't my intention but it's in there), hint of obsessive behaviour oral. Bokuto is a perv in this, so be warned.

authors note: well, it has finally arrived - this darn fic I have been spending way too long on; to put it into perspective I started this in July. But anyway, what started as self-indulgent fluff morphed into something completely different and I am pretty happy with it! Hope you all enjoy this new side to our favourite volleyball playing himbo~ 🔮

Life always had a way of making itself just a little difficult, no matter what you did; even if the answer led to the best possible solution and outcome for you; you had to make sacrifices so you could succeed in a world that was always trying to see you fail. This was one such occasion.

You just moved to a new neighborhood, one that was far away from family and friends for your career. In order to move ahead, to gain the comfortable life you always wanted for yourself, you had to move away from all that you knew. It wasn’t easy, the decision taking you weeks to accept. At least you had your move, the unpacking and organizing of your new apartment, and your work to keep you busy; to keep your mind occupied on things that didn't revolve around how alone you felt.

But that could only last for so long, a temporary solution for an abiding problem; you knew it wouldn’t last. And after all the boxes were unpacked, all your furniture was properly arranged - and rearranged, and you finally found your stride at work; you couldn’t distract your mind any longer. That getting up and ready for work became a task that grew harder and harder to do every day. After a few months of adjustments, you just couldn’t bear the loneliness you felt whenever you came home; to emptiness and silence.

It wasn’t something you were used to and you knew you would never become. It never happened before in your life, never was a constant, even if your family was away you could always hop onto chats and spend your nights laughing with your friends.

And now? Well, you were halfway across the world. When you got up, your friends were fast asleep, and when they finally sent you a message you were on your way to bed. There was no real way to quell the ache that you felt in your heart in the traditional ways you knew how; you knew you needed a different solution.

And there was really only one solution you could think of.

You got yourself a dog.

A little lapdog with a goofy, but sweet, personality from the shelter nearby. A scruffy thing who couldn’t contain the hopeful wag of his tail as you walked by his kennel; one that couldn’t help but jump on the chain link barrier that separated you both, and then onto your legs when you went to greet him. One that filled your face with almost desperate kisses when you finally bent down to say hello; to give him a chance at a new home.

And it seemed you both were made for each other. Out of all the ones you saw that day, this one looked almost as lonely as you. But now? Well, the loneliness that etched across your sweet dog’s face no longer showed, just as the heaviness that clouded and weighed your heart down started to fade away.

No longer would you come home to emptiness, instead you had a ball of fluff and fur to greet you with enthusiasm as they wagged their tail and jumped on you in excitement to see you once more. And no longer would your little friend ever have to worry about sleeping all alone on a cold cement floor, with only a thin bed to keep him from getting a chill, wondering when someone would take him home and give him a warm bed to sleep on.

A match made in heaven, you joked as you snuggled up together each night on the couch to watch your favorite TV program after enjoying a nice dinner. Though your little furry friend always broke up your cuddle session, and your show, in the middle as they whined to go to the bathroom.

You would always oblige, and soon it became a part of your schedule. You began to enjoy the fresh air and routine it gave; to where 5-minute walks would turn into 10 and then into 15. Now your evenings consisted of 30-minute walks with your best friend by your side, trotting along as you mapped out all sorts of new paths to take, new sights to see, and new parts of the city to explore.

You finally, after a few months of exploring with your enthusiastic little friend, found a route that fit both of your needs. Lots of beautiful scenery for you to enjoy with limited hills and roads to cross so your aging dog didn’t lose steam too quickly.

Every night you did this little song and dance, to the point where if you ran even a few minutes behind your little friend would start giving you attitude. You also surmised that the time you did go on your walks was perfect as you never really ran into anyone, or their own dogs, or had to worry about anything else in the world that would break your stride. For all you knew, it was just you and your dog - no one or anything else mattered.

Well, turns out there was one other person in your world, though he had yet to make it be known.

Besides, Bokuto had not meant for this to be a daily occurrence.

He noticed you a few times whenever he got home after practice, your walking figure catching his eye whenever he moved about in his apartment. He never really gave it, or you, much thought.

That was until he injured his leg and had to be on bed rest for two whole weeks. Not being able to move, not being able to practice and play volleyball - the one thing he loved most - was nearly unbearable. But that doom and gloom would be alleviated, just slightly, whenever you would walk by.

Bokuto wasn’t sure why, maybe it was the consistency? The reassurance then whenever your recognizable figure crossed through his window meant that he got through another day. Maybe it was because it gave him something to do, he did find himself casually watching other dog walkers that passed by throughout the afternoon and evening. Or maybe it was because it was specifically you. Bokuto couldn’t put his finger on why, but something drew him to you.

“Probably because she’s new around here.” That was his reasoning. Made sense to him, a new person in the neighborhood would cause some added curiosity.

But he knew that wasn’t the case. It’s not like he knew anyone in his neighborhood, let alone his apartment building.

Bokuto truly had not meant for all this to escalate out of proportion; to peer out his apartment window every day until you showed up. And now here he was, weeks after being healed, rushing to get his shoes off and throw his stuff to the side so he could watch you pass by. It was pathetic really, to be so enthralled by someone who walked across the street every day, but his heart kept pulling him closer to the window.

His friends had teased him about it, one day after practice as he rushed to get home with them by his side so they could drop their stuff off at his place before going out for the night. Watching him as he got all flustered at a person across the street.

“Dude, it’s kinda creepy, ya know!” Atsumu laughed, arms laying across the taller man's shoulder as he leaned on him - peering out the window to see you obviously unaware of their stares “Watching this girl obsessively.”

“That’s textbook stalker behavior~” Kuroo would join, also laying his weight on him, poking his flushed cheeks in a teasing manner.

“N-no it’s not! I am just making sure she passes my block safely! It’s dangerous to walk at night, you know!” Bokuto would shoot back.

“Ya’live in the safest neighborhood in the whole city!”

“Yeah, and besides whatta gonna do from all the way up here?”

Bokuto just shrugged them off, mumbling more to himself some sort of excuse for his behavior - some sort of made-up plan he had in place should the need to rescue you arised. But he knew, as much as they did, that there was no plan - or excuse - he just liked knowing you walked by him every day; that you were in his life for a brief moment.

At the time, he didn’t think much of it; at how alone he really was. Thinking that when he caught your eye briefly and grew a little bashful was out of embarrassment and not because it made his heart flutter. But it happened once again when they were hanging out, a little get-together before leaving on tour, how Bokuto would keep looking out his window with worry in his eye before they would soften into a form of sweet longing, that same woman walking by.

“Just go down and ask her out!” Hinata's bright voice would encourage him.

“Not like she’ll turn you down!’ Atsumu would add with a wink

The teasing would continue, even after you passed, of how much of a love-struck chicken he was for not talking to you. About how he was a little creepy for just staring at you and your dog as you walked by without a care in the world.

“I know,” Bokuto would sigh, longingly, in agreement “I’m just waiting for the right moment is all.”

Then, months later, after the winter tour had ended and the world was in the warmer, but rainier, spring weather, Bokuto would finally get that opportunity. When you accidentally dropped your pair of gloves that were stored in your pocket; an accident you didn't notice as you were too busy getting, and opening, the doggy bag that also resided in your cute little coat. Quickly, without truly thinking, he ran out to grab them. Waiting until after you had turned the corner off his street to make his way to where they lay, his bare feet becoming frozen on the concrete as he trotted over. He didn’t want them to be stolen or swept away with the wind to be forever lost. Gloves were expensive after all! And besides, given the cute design they had, he could tell you would miss them. A small sense of victory filled his being, as he now had the perfect chance to talk to you.

But that chance never really did come.

You came by the next day, earlier than normal, making Bokuto curse as he contemplated running out of his apartment in nothing but a towel; figuring against it as it would not be the best first impression or look good on his character or reputation, and he knows Iwaizumi would kill him if he got sick doing something so idiotic.

So, he figured he would get the chance to meet you tomorrow. That he would make sure to be ready early just in case you decided to pull a stunt like that again. But as he eagerly waited by his window, gloves in hand, the next evening you never did appear; you figure never walking down his street. He waited until late that night, just in case, but you never showed. Not the next day, or the day after that.

Soon days turned into weeks and then into months, and you had never once appeared in his window, walking on that sidewalk across the street. The gloves, tan in colour and with bright pink pom poms, lay untouched as they would greet him by his door every day, waiting for you as much as him.

Bokuto wondered where you, and your little furry companion, had disappeared to. He hoped it was somewhere good. Couldn’t help but have his mind wander to where you were and to all of the things you were getting up to, and couldn’t help but dream that it involved him as well.

Maybe you were in the countryside, enjoying the vastness and peace they gave as their winds swooped over the wheat fields and across your cheeks. Or perhaps in the mountains, enjoying their trails as you hiked up and down them, your dog in tow trying to keep up with a tree branch in their mouth. Or maybe you were in some onsen, inhaling the steam with a happy sigh as you soaked in the hot, soothing, waters.

Bokuto always had to stop his brain from continuing when he thought of you at hot springs; ignoring the strain of his cock as he thought about how soft and warm your skin would be - how he wished to be bathing right next to you, to feel every curve of your body.

He had to stop, he didn’t want to defile you like that; not without even knowing your name.

Bokuto just wanted you back. Even if it was only for the mere moments, the few seconds he got when you strolled on by with your happily trotting dog; strolled on briefly through his life with that pretty smile.

You hadn’t meant for your trip back home to last as long as it did. What started as a simple voyage home early for the Easter holiday extended considerably to having you stay. With your family’s urgent needs overtaking any reason you may have had to leave. You were lucky the job you had was flexible, able to accommodate you in your time of need, and that you had your dog with you; unable to bring yourself to think of what might have happened if you left him in a kennel all those months.

Now you were just lucky everything ended well and that you could finally get back to your cozy apartment and the routine you had made for yourself and your sweet dog; the one you neglected for a long time, and were sorely wanting to get back to.

You sighed in delight when the fresh air you longed to return to, that only this city could provide, hit your face as you made you trek out on your usual route once more; the sereneness you felt was like seeing an old good friend after years apart, as your feet began their first steps on the pavement while you enjoyed the late October breeze.

It was a long and grueling practice and Bokuto truly couldn’t think of a better way to end his day than crawling into bed and forgetting it ever existed. Kicking his door open with a groan, practically throwing his bag by his coat closet with a loud thud, and placing his keys in the bowl on the little table he kept nearby. He eyed the gloves too small for him briefly, eyes and body filled with a sense of sadness as he regaled at how he let his opportunity go.

Kicking himself internally he sighed, hands rubbing his face as he groaned once more, this time in frustration, as he walked further into his home.

“Why didn’t I just go out there? Not like I was naked…” he grumbled as he began shrugging off his coat, slowly making his way to his bedroom and walking by that cursed window.

His eye caught movement, one that made his head turn slightly out of impulse. But never fully, he knew it was of someone walking by, so he ignored it at first. Assuming it was someone just doing a late job, running an errand, or stopping by to get their mail. Whatever the case was, he didn’t want to think further of it - to have those thoughts lead to you.

But something inside him told him to take another glance; compelling him to go to the window like he once had many times before and to take a proper look, his heart aching at him to try just one more time.

And there was you. Appeared at long last when all hope seemed lost, leaving him dumbstruck as he stared out at your form with his jaw slack and his eyes wide.

It didn’t take long for him to break out of his surprised stupor, rushing out of his apartment as he fumbled with his coat, falling with little grace as he tripped over his duffle bag but with no care about the poor downstairs apartment that had to endure the loud thud or his now aching knee or whether he had grabbed his keys to prevent him of being locked out. All that mattered at that moment was you, and the tan gloves that you had lost and which would grant him the opportunity to finally talk to you.

Bokuto called out to you, his voice he was sure louder than expected as you jumped in scared surprise, as he dashed across the street to where you stood in a stupor. He was out of breath, he knew, and he also knew that while he stood there panting to try and regain it was not helping his case.

This was truly the last thing you were expecting, normally your brief counters with people were a polite smile as you passed each other, briefly sharing the sidewalk. And it was so far and few in between that you never really thought much about it or the people you passed; them always being a blur in your memory.

But this? Well, you would be sure never to forget this moment. Not only was your heart racing, the loudness of the man’s shout before you startled you to the point you were sure you would keel over with a heart attack at any moment. But that he was incredibly tall and imposing and…..handsome.

You couldn’t help the way your face warmed at the sight of him, both out of bashfulness over how close he was and how his golden eyes bore into your own, and in embarrassment at how little your fight or flight response acted; just allowing you to stand there frozen with a dumb gaped look on your face.

“I- I’m really sorry for scaring you!” Bokuto apologizes, moving his open palms up to showcase he meant to harm “You just um - uh you dropped your gloves a while ago and I-I uh grabbed them, which I guess sounds bad, but I just didn’t want them stolen or anything, and I- I have been meaning to give them back to you so um…..”

Bokuto gently, but with little grace as he fumbled for a moment, pulled your gloves out of his pocket, holding them out for you to take “Yeah… here. Sorry, it took so long to give them back…”

You found his eagerness, and nervous fumbling adorable, as you timidly laughed; gingerly reaching out to take your old gloves from his grasp.

“Thank you…” You mumbled, your voice unable to break higher than that “But I suppose it wasn’t your fault. I’ve been gone for a while, family stuff ya know? But um, again, thanks. It’s really sweet of you to wait so long to give them back.”

You had a hard time meeting his gaze, embarrassed even more over the fact that you not only lost your gloves, but that you forgot all about it and that the poor man before you had kept them for months, waiting to get rid of them and back to you, and that said man was staring so intently at you - you had never been looked at in such a way and you didn’t know what to do.

“Of course, it’s only the neighborly thing to do, right?” Bokuto smiled, making your knees buckle more, “I’m Bokuto Koutaro, I live in this building here! And who is this?”

“I am so sorry!” You squeaked, trying to gently pry your dog off his legs “His name is Rufus, he’s so terrible about jumping on people, he just wants pets, I’m so so sorry!”

“Hey, don’t we all?” He laughed, crouching down to give your dog the attention he so cutely asked for. “Aren’t you a cutie! So, Rufus, are you new around here? New to the neighborhood maybe? Cause I have seen lots of cute dogs but never seen you before!”

“Kinda,” You giggled, laughing at how your dog had thrown himself on his back for belly rubs and the cute way this stranger - well not technically stranger anymore - was indirectly asking you questions “We moved here almost a year ago, but only really started walking this route for a few weeks before, well, we had to leave for a bit.”

“Yes…. I see, that’s very interesting Rufus, thank you.” Bokuto nodded, sticking his chin out further to get some of the kisses your dog was trying to give “Now tell me, what’s your pretty owner’s name, hm?”

“O-oh uh um!” You fumbled, caught off guard by the compliment, but still managed to provide him the response he was looking for; giving forth a shy smile to his more bright one.

“Well, that’s a pretty name, isn’t it Rufus?”

“T-thank you, um we-we um should get going, the sun is starting to set and stuff… don’t want to take up more of your time.” You mumbled, tugging your dog gently, and successfully, away to slowly start walking your route once more.

“H-hey, wait!” Bokuto called out, taking a few steps to close the small gap that was made between the two of you “Would… would you like to grab a coffee or something sometime?”

His request caught you off guard, your gaping mouth that you had to shut quickly (and loudly) proof of that, but not in a bad way as you nervously cleared your throat

“Y-yeah, that sounds really nice,” You smiled excitedly, almost giddy as rummaged in your pocket for a moment to pull out your phone “Give me your number and I’ll let you know when I’m next available.”

You didn’t have to tell him twice, his eagerness once again making you giggle and his bright smile making your knees buckle, as he grabbed hold of your phone, waiting not a second to input his number along with a cute nickname before handing it back.

“Text me soon, okay?”

“O-okay!” You agreed, your smile almost mirroring his own as you gave him a final wave goodbye, tugging your dog gently off his legs one last time to resume your walk.

You both felt weightless as you walked back to your respective homes. You were unable to weaken the dumb, broad, smile that was glued on your face as giggled to yourself over your encounter with that handsome man, as you kept glancing down at the gloves he so kindly returned to you - whispering your thanks as you held them to your heart.

Bokuto’s legs felt like jelly as he sauntered back over to his building, fumbling with the intercom to try and gain access to the complex; his own dreamy and dumb expression never leaving his face as he almost incoherently asks to be let back in. Stumbling his way back up to his floor and through the threshold of his home, he thought of you and your cute smile; how he wants to see it again and soon. Excitedly he broke out of the trance you left him in to furiously type his text to you; the same one you receive as soon as you walked through the door

‘Please tell me I can meet you tomorrow!’

How interesting it was, how time could move so slowly and so quickly at the same time. How hours seem to fade into days, which fade into one another, and then all of a sudden a month will have passed and you never even realized it - like a blink of an eye.

It’s a combination of things, for time to move like this. For if it was just passing by quickly it would mean either life was so dull that things just blended together and time would then be wasted; or it could be the opposite, that all sorts of fun and excitement were happening at once that you could barely keep up. But if it is both, those days seem to drag on but weeks seem to end swiftly, then it’s a mixture of the two.

And really, that was the perfect explanation for it all.

During the day as you worked the hours seemed to drag on, but in the evenings whenever you had to walk your dog, or on the weekends, it was like time was doing everything it could to make the day anew again; to subjugate you to the long and drawn out hours of boredom work provided.

But whenever you weren’t at work, you found yourself crossing paths with your handsome new friend Bokuto. That was probably why time seemed to pass on by, it always seemed to move fast whenever someone was having fun. And you couldn’t lie that you were having the most fun you had in months while you were around that exuberant man, His positivity and brightness were contagious, and no matter how run down you felt, no matter how bad the day was, once you saw his smile it was like nothing bad happened at all.

Ever since you took the leap and replied to his enthusiastic text with one of your own stating a time to go out with you the next night to help you walk your dog, it has been a whirlwind of that bright fun.

Going to cafes to get coffee, trying out new restaurants that popped out of nowhere, trying out the hiking trails that you never knew existed, and exploring hidden corners of the city you had yet to explore. All while he held your hand tightly and dazzled you with his beaming smile every time you went out with him.

On top of it all, every weekday, after you finished work, Bokuto would try his best to meet where it all began. To wait out in front of his apartment building in hopes to catch you, to then continue on walking with you for the remainder of your trip home; taking hold of your dog’s lead as he happily tucked your arm underneath his instead - his excuse was always “gotta make sure you make it home safe” smiling down at you if you ever tried to complain.

Before you knew it a month had passed. A month filled with good morning texts, evening walks in the cool autumn air, and weekends filled with little dates. Your days consumed with the attentions and affections of a man you never thought you would meet, let alone be romanced by so energetically. It was all so sudden, almost overwhelming, but so welcomed all the same.

Though, with all the affection and time spent together, you couldn’t definitely say what you were; if you were his girlfriend or not. You couldn’t say there was nothing between you both, not with the small nervous gestures he gave you, like all those lingering kisses he would press to your forehead whenever he dropped you off. Never actually pressing his lips to yours, as if he was afraid of overstepping a boundary.

Due to this, you couldn’t claim to be official, that he was your boyfriend, that you were going steady. Which made butterflies form in your tummy when you asked him for a large favor; not sure if he would be okay with it all. After all, you hadn’t even kissed yet.

A work event was approaching, and it was mandatory that you go to it. Which meant you had to leave for an entire weekend. Normally, weekend trips were fine, as you could bring your furry companion with you. But you couldn’t bring your dog with you, the hotel your work arranged for you to stay at wouldn’t allow it. And you didn’t want to spend hundreds of dollars to send your dog to a service, or allow a stranger into your home to take care of them; who knows what they might look at or steal.

You decided to bite the bullet when the week of the event came up; figuring that the worst-case scenario was Bokuto would say no - but given how close you had gotten over the past month you had high hopes.

Besides, he was the perfect option. You would feel comfortable with him in your home, he had been over a few times before, and your dog adored him. And, he lived close by too, so if something were to happen or if he didn’t feel comfortable staying at your place for a few days it wouldn’t be the end of the world; he and your pet would just a few blocks.

You asked him, on a particularly warm Tuesday night for October, and he said yes without hesitation. You didn’t know why he agreed, perhaps it was in the bashful manner you asked, or maybe he could sense the quiet desperation in your tone. But, overall, it didn’t matter to you, just as long as your home and precious pet were safe.

But just as your life had started to slowly be consumed by him in all those little ways he had woven himself into your daily routine; Bokuto’s was completely taken away by you.

He couldn’t help it. Bokuto found himself thinking about you all the time, at almost every moment of the day. While grocery shopping he thought of what you might buy, and what dishes you might make yourself. At practice when he was supposed to be listening to his coach, or paying attention to the plays happening before him, all he could think about was having you sit on the bleachers cheering him on. Even late at night after you had sent your last text of the day, wishing him goodnight, he was thinking about you, almost obsessed by you, though he figured it was inevitable given how borderline obsessive he was before he even knew you; when he would just watch your figure pass by his window every day.

That was probably why he said yes to your request; not wanting to say no to your cute face or to possibly jeopardize his future chances of being with you. Besides, he loved your dog, and the chance to be in the place you called home, for longer than a moment to drop you off, was far too tempting.

“My goodness, again, thank you so much for doing this!” You gushed once more as you rushed to get the last of your things together, pushing Bokuto further into your home.

“No problem at all! Happy I could do this for you” He beamed, still holding onto the bag you had practically thrown at him when you opened the door to greet him.

“I know, I know…” You took a breath, finally taking the proper moment to actually acknowledge him “But still… figured I would let you know how appreciative I am; so, thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” He responded in kind, his smile was so gentle that it made your heart skip a beat.

“R-right! Um… I wrote a list of what Rufus needs. His feeding schedule, walk schedule, all that kind of stuff. It’s on the kitchen table, so take a look.” Your voice went faint, though Bokuto could still hear you, as you walked away from him into your bedroom “It, it also has the passwords to my streaming services, should you want to use them.” You let out a small huff, as you dragged your suitcase from your bedroom “You are also free to have whatever you like from the kitchen! Nothing is off-limits, so go nuts. And um… you know if you wanted to bring your girlfriend over to hang out that’s cool with me too!”

You took your bag from Bokuto’s hold, taking a moment to peer inside to double-check you had all you needed in there. As well as looking at your suitcase to take a second to recall all you put in; trying to see if you had forgotten anything; doing your best to try and play it cool over what you just said.

“Well, that won’t be necessary,” Bokuto mumbled, doing his best to look at you but not stare. a hand fiddling with one of his hoodie’s drawstrings “The girlfriend thing I mean… don’t have one so… yeah.”

His nervous chuckle made you follow suit making you pause your tireless item shuffling to glance up at him; your smile was small before growing wider alongside his and you shared a brief moment - on that you both couldn’t really put a name to, but knew it was a good one all the same.

“Alright, I think I’m good to go!” You bit your lip, taking hold of your suitcase; extending the handle for easier use.

“Safe travels, okay? Text me when you get there!” Bokuto asked, opening the door for you to avoid any further struggles

“Don’t worry, I will!” You leaned up, placing a quick peck on his lips before walking through your threshold “Thanks, again! I’ll see you in a few days!”

Bokuto watched you leave, down the hall, and into the elevator with a dumbstruck look on his face; if you weren’t in such a hurry you might have laughed at that. But as soon as you were out of sight that shocked look turned into one of dumbstruck love as a goofy smile crossed his face as he closed your door with a goofy-sounding chuckle.

‘Our first kiss’ was all he could think about as he wandered over to your couch, plopping down on it as he absent-mindedly pet your dog as he relived the way your lips felt over and over again. Hoping that when you came back, he would be graced with another one.

The first night went without a hitch. Due to your late afternoon departure, all Bokuto had to do was put Rufus out for the last time, and then enjoy the night in. Ordering food and choosing a movie to play in the background as he absent-mindedly scrolled his phone - sending a good night text your way once you confirmed you made it to your hotel safely. And given that Iwazumi was so hard on him, and his team members, in training earlier that day, he didn’t think twice about hitting the hay once he got back from that final walk with your furry friend.

However, the next morning would prove to be his downfall.

Though it wasn’t like it was his fault really. It was just, sleeping in your bed, being surrounded by the smell of you - the whisper of floral from the shampoo that you use lingered on your pillows, the faint smell of your laundry detergent that comforted him as he snuggled deeper in your blanket, and the scent of your faded sweat the clung the deeper he sunk into your sheets - all of it was so uniquely, perfectly, utterly you that his body acted without thinking.

And maybe it was because he was laying in your bed, surrounded by the same sheets that clung to your body in ways he could only imagine, could only dream about. That such an innocent act was something far more intimate than he, and more than likely yourself, thought it could be. It was something that got to him more than it should.

No matter how much he tossed and turned, tried to think of anything else, his body betrayed him. And as the sun’s rays hit his eyes, signaling a new day, his stiffened cock stood proud, barely contained by the fabric of his boxers, just as it did when he first crawled into your bed.

“A cold shower would do the trick,” Bokuto whispered to himself as he dragged his body into an upright position, keeping an eye on your dog to make sure he was still asleep. “Always works before a game….”

And it did. Well… whenever he was about to play a game, or away on tour and needed to get rid of his morning wood before meeting his teammates. This was proving to be a different case all entirely. And he was only a man.

A weak, weak, man too easily trumped by temptation.

He would apologize, and beg to whatever god that was above, for your forgiveness and understanding but he couldn’t help but stroke his cock to the thought of you. How your skin would look all lathered in bubbles from the body wash he was currently inhaling; never once thinking the smell of hibiscus would make his eyes roll to the back of his skull. Imagining how he would bend you over, pressing you against the cheap tile wall, and fuck you so hard that your neighbors could hear the sound of your moans over the water; how pretty your pussy would look after he came so deep inside, how his cum would slowly seep out and down your pretty legs before being washed away down the drain.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!” Bokuto hissed, as his hipped jerked into his hand, his release overtaking him making a mess of his hand, chest, and your shower wall; silently, and shamefully watching it go down your drain - disappointed over the reality of it all.

The rest of the day went decently enough. Bokuto avoided your room and everything in it, even your bathroom for most of the day in fear of having to take another hour-long shower. Instead, he occupied his time by taking your dog out on a nearby, local, hiking trail; one that traversed close to and alongside a river. Your dog loved it, and Bokuto made sure to keep a mental note to take you out here soon before the weather got too cold and the river would freeze over.

He also spent his time, the majority of his evening, catching up on the latest TV drama Hinata was begging him to watch; keeping the younger man updated on which episode he was on, and taking small breaks to feed your dog or to take him on his needed walks for bathroom relief.

But Bokuto knew he couldn’t avoid it forever; that when night fell, he would crack once more. He knew he should have slept on the couch, to deal with the aches in his joints, the soreness in his muscles, and whatever back pain he would inevitably have by huddling and sleeping in such a still position on your too-small couch. But the allure of sleeping in your sheets - to be surrounded by the same comfort you allowed yourself to enjoy every night - was too enticing.

It was a sleepless night, once again.

Though this time it was not spent like the night before, where he was tossing and turning to try and settle down to get a proper night's rest. Bokuto knew that it would be pointless to try. Instead, fueled by the faded smell of your shampoo that lingered on your pillowcase, he took hold of your fluffiest pillow, and slotted it between his legs; against his weeping and aching cock. No longer able to help, or ignore the heat that coursed through his veins.

His whimpers, though muffled, echoed within your empty bedroom as the sound of your headboard softly hitting the wall behind accompanied the sinful symphony as his body crushed your favourite pillow; hips desperately trying to keep that wonderful friction it gave to get him over the edge. Bokuto thought about how you would look folded into a mating press as he pinned you in place with nothing but his weight; how sweet you would look with tears in your eyes as you babbled on about how much you loved his cock.

“Yeah, just like that…. fuck, you’re such a good girl….nngh!.... You like taking my cock, huh? You like how my fat cock stretches you out? Come on… come on say it, please?”

It went on all night long, and when the morning sun finally hit his tired eyes did Bokuto finally feel spent; finally felt like he got all his pent-up frustrations out of him. Though his body screamed at him to not move, to lay down and rest, he had to ignore it. Had to take your soiled bedding - pillows, sheets, and blankets - off your bed so they could be washed. If he had more energy he would wince in shame over how much cum he managed to spill out onto it all; but right now he couldn’t give a damn. It was more than worth it to him.

Bokuto blessed the gods above that you had a washer and dryer within your cute apartment; how thankful he was not to have to take them all the way down flights of stairs and possibly run into one of your neighbors. He quickly went to put a load on, knowing he had to take care of a few last things around the house, for your little dog, and place some new sheets on your bed to dissuade any suspicion before you got home.

And oh what a blessing your little laundry room was.

There, sat atop your dirty laundry within the hamper you kept so neatly tucked away, sat a pair of pretty pink lace panties. He knew you had worn them, knew that they were meant to be washed, knew you had not left them there to tease him but instead discarded them like anyone would with used clothing, and he knew he should have just walked away from them. But they were so pretty, Bokuto couldn’t help but grab them for a closer look.

Couldn’t help but enjoy the way the soft fabric felt against his calloused fingertips. Couldn’t help but bring them up to his face, couldn’t help the way his mouth watered from the musky smell that greeted him, and certainly couldn’t help what he was about to do.

He knew it was wrong; he only has a few hours before you came home for Christ's sake. But this whole weekend was a perfect example of how little control he had when it came to you. That despite how wrong it all was, how he was violating your privacy and taking advantage of this situation, he couldn’t quell his lust as he took another deep inhale of your scent that stayed on that flimsy piece of fabric; his loose athletic shorts slipping past his hips as his angry-red cock sprung free once again.

“Gotta be quick…. gotta be quick - fuck!” He kept muttering to himself as he furiously pumped his hand up and down the length of his cock; doing his best to finish quickly and move on to what he was supposed to be doing.

He thought of you on top of the washer; sitting like the good girl you were as he knelt before you and ate you out like his last meal - your moans and mewls shaking in rhythm to the vibrations of the machine below you. The whole image being brought to him in a clearer focus in his mind due to the constant inhale of your fragrance.

Bokuto came with an unexpected groan, finishing much faster than he anticipated; not realizing just how effective those pretty panties of yours were. He collapsed against your wall with a deep and satisfied sigh; doing his best to calm his heart and breathing down. He could hear his phone go off from the other room, the specific chime meant it was you - clearly texting him that you were almost home. Bokuto sighed one last time, knowing he was not in an even bigger hurry to clean things up; starting with the panties he had balled in his fist.

Maybe… maybe you won’t notice if they are gone….

or perhaps maybe you will

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu smut #haikyu x reader #haikyu smut #hq x reader #bokuto x reader #bokuto smut #hq smut #bokuto koutaro x reader #hq bokuto #bokuto x you #msby bokuto #haikyuu!!#haikyuu!! smut #hq oneshot #haikyuu oneshot #🔮.the peddler brews #🔮.potion for bokuto

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kiwanopie · 1 year

Text

Strawberry Jam

Your best friend has a sweet tooth.

cw: college!bokuto, oral(f!receving), dubcon, manhandling if you squint. 1.3k

“Ah shit!” Bokuto frowns. “I dropped my pencil.”

You absently hum at the sound of his voice from the ledge of your laptop. “Hm-?”

The sound of a skidding chair barely disrupts your line of focus from where it’s locked on your midterm - but the sound of his head knocking a bit against the underside of the table does pull a little chuckle from you. You glance at your keyboard through a few dull taps on your mousepad, but at the very least you’re considerate enough to mumble a quiet ‘You okay?’

Bokuto makes a huffy little whining sound that you opt to ignore in favor of letting your best friend crawl about the carpet like a mouse. Patting his palms against the plush nylon of your bedroom floor as he searches for his pencil, and you’re really no help when you make less than an effort to move your legs as he knocks against them.

The blue light turns the darkening room behind you a washed navy, whatever he just knocked his back against just unplugged the desk light. “You can just borrow one of mine y’know.”

“But this one’s special! It has my name engraved on it and everything!”

“Why would you-“ You spam the backspace bar for a loud couple clicks. “Why would you buy something like that if you know it’s gonna get shaved away anyway?”

“Because it’s cool… And I’ll know if someone steals it!”

Bokuto roots for the little punctures on the outlet through a few messy jabs of his fingers. “Your room eats up all my stuff.”

The fact that you can physically hear him pouting is enough to make you wanna audibly scoff. Especially when his little nest across the hall has already swallowed up a pair of your headphones, a few mismatched socks, and a volume of that manga you’ve been collecting since last spring. And anyways, it’s totally his fault. He’s the one who keeps treating your room like a second bedroom. You can’t even sift through your hamper without finding some of your clothes mixed up with his.

But instead of making that point, you pull a little piece of skin off your bottom lip that tastes metallic when you tuck it under your tongue, switching tabs to double check your sources and mumble a little sarcastically under your breath. “Sorry ‘bout my room eating your stuff.”

The way the room bursts into a warm haze barely phases you anymore than the hollow tap of thin wood clinking just before your feet. If Bokuto’s gasp should mean anything, a number two pencil gets to live to see another day.

“Find it?”

“I found it!”

Bokuto snorts at your halfhearted ‘Hoorah.” as he turns on his knees to crawl out from under the table. Blithely grunting his way through the cramped little space, but stopping on the heel of his palm when he notices something.

“Oh, hey!”

“Hmm?”

He ducks his head for a better view of your skirt. “What’s up with these undies?”

“Hm? Oh.” You lift your back a little, even still your eyes are locked on the screen. “You got a problem with Strawberry Shortcake?”

“No, I like them! They’re cute.”

You blow a tickled breath out through your nose. You should kick him for being a perv and peeking up your skirt. But really you’re just thankful he didn’t tease you for being childish after you just ragged on his special pencil.

Your elbow digs into the desk with a squeak as you rest your jaw in your palm, your voice is an absent drone. “Thanks, they’re strawberry flavored.”

The shift key clicks as you start a new paragraph.

And then your knees are colliding with the table. “Wha- They’re not actually strawberry flavored!”

The way you startledly flinch is hardly enough to deter Bokuto’s hot mouth from the front side of your panties, but the way he hums - runs a thorough lick through your clothed slit and pulls away, makes it hard for you not to outwardly shutter. “They’re not? No way, I totally taste it.”

“Bokut-“ You lay your hand against his scalp when he leans in to dig his nose in. “Don’t just start doing something like that out of nowhere!”

Wow, he’s really slobbering all over those poor things isn’t he? “Y’want me to stop?”

“N-…No, but-”

He digs his tongue in with a fervor.

It’s a few tempered licks before he’s finally reaching forward to tug your panties to the side, molten tongue massaging attentively over your clit as the way he’s all but mushing his head into your soaked cunt inclines you to scoot into your seat. - Although the distance is short lived. You’re helpless to stop him when he uses his weight to push the chair back enough to lift his head freely, and you're all but yanked onto your back as he secures your legs over his shoulders, lifting on his knees to eat you out from a better angle.

The position is a little awkward but the sensation is incredible. This guy is drinking you up like it’s all he knows how to do. The angle opens you up from top to bottom, his tongue doesn’t leave a spot untouched. You’d almost be embarrassed with all the noise you’re making, but his drunken moans are a contest to yours.

“Ko, you’re-“ Oh god, your poor chair. “You’re… making such a mess…!”

He makes a gluttonned sound of indignation. “S’your fault. ‘Pussy tastes so good…”

You whine. That’s your best friend talking to you like that. You don’t even know where this came from. One minute he’s a bumbling teddy bear, rooting around your carpet for his stupid novelty pencil, the next he’s-

“You’re g’nna cum in my mouth?” He noses your clit. “Gonna let me drink your cum? Yeah?”

You claw at the arms locked over your thighs. “Koutarou! K-Ko! Fuck… Oh my god…”

“You taste so fucking sweet. What kind of friend holds out on another when they know they’ve got the-“ The way he spits on your messy cunt makes your pretty eyes roll. “Most perfectest pussy in the whole wide world?”

That’s not a word. But you get the sentiment. Especially when he punctuates it by circling his middle finger around your tight little hole and eases it in with his tongue pressed against your clit. Deep guttural groan that reverberates throughout your entire body at the way your cunt suckles on his finger, gushing for him so eagerly that you start to drip down his arm. Your pretty pussy seems intent on making him fall in love with it. Love struck even when he slides another finger in. And it’s all he can do not go mad when you start to drunkenly hump into his face.

“Oh god, Ko! Fuck me! Fuck me!”

Bokuto moans as your legs lock behind his shoulders, you’re so fucking hot he could die. “Mhm! Mhm!”

He’s rocking into you so thoroughly with his fingers that the chair starts to creek. The way the veins in his arm deliciously pop is enough to send you over the edge. “Ohhhh fuck! Cumming! m’ cumming!”

Bokuto sloshes his tongue over your clit as you spasm around his fingers. Wet noises double in volume as he continues to fuck into you, even when your leg kicks up from the amount of overstimulation. He just barely gives when you start to push his head away.

“Sorry, sorry!” Bokuto raises his head. “You’re just too fucking good.”

He helps you shimmy your sodden panties down your legs as you tiredly upright yourself in your seat, kissing your knee for good measure. “Hey, we’re still friends right?”

You nod. Though your throbbing clit says otherwise. “Yeah, you’re still my buddy.”

“Yay!” And you could almost giggle at how happy-go-lucky he can still look with your cum all over his face.

He holds your soaked underwear in his hand and they squish a little in his palm. “Can I keep these?”

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#‘you’re best friend has a sweet tooth’ im so smart #hq smut #bokuto smut #college!bokuto #bokuto koutaro x reader #bokuto x reader #hq bokuto #bokuto imagines #bokuto x you #msby bokuto #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu!!#hq x reader #haikyuu!! smut #hq oneshot #haikyuu oneshot

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forusomimiya · 11 months

Text

𝔽𝕠𝕦𝕣’𝕤 𝕒 𝕔𝕣𝕠𝕨𝕕

⚜️𝘱𝘢𝘪𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨: 𝘮𝘴𝘣𝘺4!𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦𝘴𝘬𝘪𝘱 𝘹 𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘢𝘨𝘦𝘳 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

⚜️𝘨𝘦𝘯𝘳𝘦: 𝘴𝘮𝘶𝘵

⚜️𝘞𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵: 1,4𝘬

⚜️𝘤𝘸: 𝘥𝘰𝘶𝘣𝘭𝘦 𝘱𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯, 𝘱𝘳𝘢𝘪𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘬, 𝘥𝘦𝘨𝘳𝘢𝘥𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯, 𝘤𝘩𝘰𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘴𝘱𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘯𝘢𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳, 𝘤𝘭𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘥 𝘮𝘢𝘭𝘦, 𝘥𝘢𝘤𝘳𝘺𝘱𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘪𝘢. (¡𝘔𝘐𝘕𝘖𝘙𝘚 𝘋𝘖𝘕𝘛 𝘙𝘌𝘈𝘋 𝘐𝘛!)

You don't remember how you ended up here, or maybe you do, but you don't remember what led you to make this decision, what went through your wonderful head making you think this would be a good idea.

Because it wasn't just good, it was the best.

A couple of drinks after your first face-to-face game with the team, glances and approaches, brought you, the rookie manager of the black jackals and the four worst men you could have ever met, to spend "a little good time" at your hotel.

It wasn't the first time they got together and talked about how you flirted with each of them or how you enticed them to have a quick, sneaky encounter in the locker room. What they didn't know is that while they were getting hard talking about you, you were in your room cumming on your fingers more than three times in a row, imagining an orgy with them.

And there you were, rejoicing and getting what you had wanted to happen for months.

"Little whore in heat... if you're going to keep looking at me like that while 'm fucking that mouth, I swear I'm going to make a mess on yar pretty face. And I don't think Sakusa likes it when someone messes up what's his, do you Omi-kun?" Atsumu's words are choppy with each thrust and with each touch of his tip at the end of your throat. His muscles begin to weaken but for his life, he will not stop until he has accomplished his goal.

"Just shut your fucking mouth and keep going, Miya. It keeps getting tighter every time you go in deeper."

"Ignore him Atsumu. Down here I can see how he enjoys every praise you give her" you only have a second to switch from focusing on Atsumu's cock to Hinata's and Sakusa's, both alternating to hit your fragile spot and making you moan long and hard as you gargle with Atsumu's cock.

"Holy fuck, so pretty like that… drooling all over my cock…” you moan in pain as you open your mouth wider. Your jaw will remind you tomorrow. "Awww… it hurts… Easy doll, I'll cum in no time and your mouth can rest. But first let me torture ya some more." His hips slam faster into your mouth, causing you to gag and your throat to itch, before you start to tear up.

"Hah, she's already in tears. Poor baby… maybe three cocks aren't enough for her. Maybe ya should slow down your movements, Atsumu…. What do you think? I'd like to have her mouth intact for a while from now" deaf ears to the words of Bokuto, who stands to the side squeezing the base of his cock and stroking the tip, mesmerised by the movement of your tits bouncing back and forth. Atsumu's hands on the back of your neck force you deeper into him, and even though it's your first time sucking him, you know what it means, so you look up and confirm your intuition when you see his eyebrows draw together and his mouth form an "O".

"Ahh keep crying… keep crying for my cock… nngh f-fuck! Keep it up, keep it up!" Quickly the thick, warm liquid runs down your throat and you can only continue to watch him, biting his lip as he is consumed by pleasure and continues to spill now onto your tongue. You swallow, frowning at the bitter taste. It's not pleasant, but fuck, you're a slut at sex, and you like to show it off.

"Damn… you swallowed it?" You nod and lick the remainder left on your lips, sobbing and whimpering because even though your mouth is now empty, your pussy is still filled by two cocks. "Good girl" you smile as he strokes your head, enticing you to close your eyes and appreciate his sweet touch. Atsumu could change his ways with you whenever he wanted.

You were fascinated by the way he was sometimes gentle with you in training, giving you his attention and care. Giving you advice on how to improve or cheering you up when you were down. Other times, he would catch you off guard from behind when no one was watching and he would fawn in your ear about what a good girl you were when you offered him water or towels to wipe off your sweat. He always said he'd thank you later, but it never happened. Until now.

Men who have you dripping, panting and cursing bring you back to enjoy them.

"M-more please… want more, so good…" Sakusa squeezes your hips and increases the strokes, obeying your pleas, grunting with each time you clench around him.

"Fuck… gonna fill this fucking pussy to the last drop. You're taking me so well that i think i wanna do it again…" but you can't take any more. The support of your arms on the bed trembles with each thrust, and the speed and joy of feeling the friction of both cocks in you doesn't help. "Just a little more kitten, just a little more…". You moan louder and louder and beg to go faster, though Hinata, slowly torturing you and dismissing that option, continues to enjoy every inch of your pussy opening up for him, willing to spend the time needed.

"P-please… faster… more - faster."

"Sshh be good for us baby, just have fun and keep squeezing for us, yeah? We promise to fill you up real soon kitty, just a - little bit - more."

You nod unconsciously. You can't stop thinking about how badly you want to cum all over them. And fuck, Bokuto hasn't even touched you yet, and you crave it, you need him to humiliate you and reward you for how well you're behaving. There's still time to enjoy him.

"I can't take it anymore… need her now." Bokuto steps in front of you and from his position you can see what he wants to do, so you stick out your tongue and wait.

"Hah, did you see that? She's as desperate as we thought. Didn't you get enough of mine that now you want Bokkun's?" you look sideways at the blond, who chuckles and grabs you by the chin, moving you in his direction and ordering you. "Now, open up."

The next thing that happens, comes very quickly.

You don't lose eye contact with Atsumu as he drops a trickle of saliva into your mouth. Bokuto, too aroused by the scene with the blond, and by the two partners warning that they are close to cumming, points in the direction of your tits and without control over himself, regretting it, is the next to do it. The warmth of the fluid and how dirty it makes you feel, makes you come and brings you closer to orgasm, with no interest in alerting the men who, by the pressure on their cocks and your uncontrolled leakage, know what is going on.

"Ahh fuck, she's cumming, she's cumming! hah- so tight…" Hinata is next to follow you, letting his cum leak out of your pussy and drip onto it, leading Sakusa to hopelessly let himself go.

"Yeahh, i love it… so wet… you're all mine, you hear me? Fucking mine" Emptying himself completely as he admires how underneath his cock white liquid is still oozing out, possibly a mixture of all three.

You take a few seconds to breathe, still on top of Hinata, who smiles at you as she lies slumped on the bed. You smile back with what little energy you have left, and thinking about it, you miss feeling full again, and underappreciated, in some ways. You think about what you're going to do, but then you remember that you've come here to play, and that you have a side to you that they haven't known yet, and you have to put it into practice.

When Sakusa and Hinata have risen from the bed, you crawl to the end of it and kneel down, staring at them one by one and waiting for them to know what you want. Bokuto seems to be the only one who notices your intentions, which leads him to smile at you for it and approach you with the same.

"Coming for more?" You nod cradling yourself against his hand as he caresses your cheek. Bokuto and the rest can't stop devouring you with their eyes. It was no wonder; a mess covered in tears and semen, with teeth marks at your neck and finger marks on your buttocks. More than one couldn't help but take a breather to get back into bed again.

"We didn't think we had such a docile manager…" Atsumu's voice, sitting behind you, prompts you to lean back against his chest, letting out small gasps, satisfied with the result. You are ready for round two.

"We'll care you for a while longer, if that's what you want."

•

@planetmarz

A.N.: Okay, is this an open ending TO A SEQUEL? I don't want to deceive myself but, I would love to do a sequel. I'm not very satisfied with the result, cause I think I'm not very good narrating a situation, and I'm better at making short scenes, so… I'll have to see how much appreciation this short fic has and consider making a last and second part 🫡

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hxltic · 2 months

Text

It’s BOKUTO’S birthday!! In the decorated living room, he’s laughing with his friends and teammates that, when given the signal, push him down onto the couch and slap a children’s party hat onto his head. He’s confused at first but unable to stop giggling at whatever was said beforehand.

It takes a moment to see you amongst the many people there, despite being stood directly in front of him. A cheeky smile grows on his face that lights up the room even more when he gets a first glimpse of you. Everyone in attendance disperses to give him a clear view, so when he looks for the second time, his gaze shifts, and there’s something resonating within him that wasn’t there before.

His smile shrinks, but not in a bad way. Simultaneously, his eyes fall lower and lower the closer he gets to your feet.

Your hair was down. Your lips were painted a blood red, and there was a big number 12 on your stomach, surrounded by black with a hint of yellow in the scratch design. “Bokuto” was written at the top.

You’d had a larger version of his jersey made so you could wear it as a short dress. A short dress. It only shrinks as you step closer to him, but it matched the high heeled black boots you wore for the September breeze.

His mouth was just barely open the whole time, and he closed it when he realized, but his teeth clenched hard against each other when he looked back up to you to see a devilish smirk on your face.

By now you were within an arm’s length away, bowing seductively with two hands on his kneecaps. His throat feels tight when he swallows. He can only imagine the display from behind in a dress that short.

“Happy birthday baby,” you whisper, blinking through your eyelashes, pressing a light kiss to his lips. He immediately raises his back from the cushion of the couch through all the hoops and hollers, wrapping his large hand around your nape. He grunts and chases your lips greedily when you pull away, the aggravation clear on his face as if he can’t hear the people around.

He jokes, forcing a curl into his lips, “Why is my present running away from me?”

It was mainly to calm his “nerves” that were sending a blood rush directly to his lower half, but also to convince himself he wasn’t angry that this whole stupid party was planned if you were going to stand in front of him like this. “You’ll get the real present later, Kō.”

He’s silent after that, shifting and readjusting in the seat, hoping nobody would catch him moving his dick so that it wouldn’t sit heavy against his sweats amidst his friends.

It’s precisely why dancing for him, which you were planning to do but without an audience, doesn’t work. He gives in too quickly, and the desire to touch you is so raw he’s usually still in the chair dragging kisses down your throat as you throw your head back in ecstasy.

©️ hxltic

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eggyrocks · 22 days

Text

nail polish: k. bokuto

⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆

bokuto’s hair is down, pushed out of his forehead with a wide headband, and the skin on his face is covered with a thick, wet green that he’s been told is a vitamin c mask.

“it’ll help clean the oil out of your pours,” is what she told him as she stood on the tips of her toes, biting down on her tongue as she spread the slime all over his face.

now, his fingers are spread out over her knee, his giant palm resting over the top of her thigh. slowly and deliberately, she drags the brush of blue polish over his nails. it’s the second coat now. “-and it was quite frankly just fucking rude. because like, it’s her birthday and you’re gonna text her, ask her for a favor, ask her to go out drinking with you to get over your lame breakup, and then only say happy birthday after you saw my post? like you don’t care about her let’s be real.”

bokuto nods solemnly. “that's kinda bitchy. like, oh, your birthday's just an afterthought to me, i don't really care."

"yes, exactly!"

"how long have they been friends now?”

“like fifteen years!” she exclaims, excitement making her halt her hand and look up at bokuto for some sort of reaction.

he shakes his head. "that's long enough to remember your friend's birthday."

“definitely long enough to know when her birthday is! she just bothers me because, like, she’s the type of person who cares more about whatever ugly boyfriend-of-the-month she has than her actual long-time best friends.”

bokuto exaggerates a pout. “is this how your friends talk about me? do they call me your ugly boyfriend-of-the-month?”

she snickers, returning her focus to his nails once more. “we’ve been dating for three years.”

“still.”

“all my friends love you,” she assures him. “you’re their favorite uber driver.”

he laughs, and in doing so, he moves his pinkie. it’s just a bit, not that much at all, but it’s enough to earn him a gentle flick to his bicep. “stop moving! you’re messing up my work!”

“i think they look pretty,” bokuto assures her, and lifts his other hand up in the air, wiggling his fingers and examining the way the shiny blue reflects the light. “hinata’s gonna be so fucking jealous.”

she bites down on the inside of her cheek. “i just know they’re gonna be chipped to high hell after one practice.”

“then you’ll just have to paint them again,” he tells her. “next time paint them gold so they match my uniform.”

“aye, aye,” she nods, bright grin accompanied by a red tinge to her cheeks.

bokuto leans forward and places a kiss on the crown of her head. “can you put your initials on them?"

she quirks an eyebrow at him. "why do you want my initials on them?"

he grins. "you gotta mark your property, babe."

⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆

an: i wanna gossip with him so bad

#bokuto koutarou #bokuto x reader #haikyuu bokuto #hq bokuto #bokuto koutaro x reader #bokuto fluff #msby bokuto #bokuto x you #eggyrocks does slice of life #hq x you #hq x reader #hq fluff #hq fanfic #hq fic #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x you #haikyuu x imagines #haikyuu x y/n

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cottonlemonade · 20 days

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When You’re Being Shipped With Another Player

warnings: swearing, cause Atsumu

_____________________________

“They do have a point.”, Bokuto said gloomily, pacing up and down in his teammate‘s room. Atsumu was sitting on his bed, the wing spiker’s phone in his hand, looking at a moderately well taken picture from a Meian fansite. You, Bokuto’s girlfriend - in all your chubby adorable glory - were beaming up at the captain as he laughed, handsome as ever with his fresh post-victory glow.

“Ya can’t be serious.”, the setter tried very hard not to cackle at Bokuto’s distress but he made it quite difficult, “Even the ship name they came up with sounds like a bad Disney villain...”

“You know how cool Meian-san is. And good-looking and everything.”

“Yer sure, yer not in love with him?”, the blonde muttered.

“And he is taller than me!”

Atsumu did a double take. “Well, now that changes everythin‘.”, he said, sarcastically.

“Tsum-Tsum, be serious.”

Geez. How did that Fukurodani setter deal with this? Digging around in the very back of his mind, Atsumu managed to find a smidgen of compassion and common sense.

“I will, when ya stop spouting crap. Come on, Bokkun. Ya know, y/n loves ya. Yer blowing this way outta proportion. These are jus’ sum weird fans who wanna make trouble in paradise. Ya two have been doin’ great, haven’t ya?”

“Yeah.”, the other admitted meekly.

“And yer gettin’ pretty serious, right?”

A small nod.

“Good, then give ‘er a call and go on a date. Make out in a park or somethin’ so they see yer still goin’ strong.”

This finally got a smile from Bokuto.

“And hey, if it doesn’t work out, ya can still date Meian.”

A pillow hit Atsumu right in the face.

__________________________________

#bokuto x chubby reader #haikyuu x chubby reader #bokuto fluff #hq bokuto #haikyuu bokuto #haikyuu fluff #bokuto x reader #bokuto koutarou #bokuto koutaro x reader #msby bokuto #bokuto x you #hq fluff #haikyuu drabbles

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euphoricimagination · 26 days

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꧁༺ 𝓜𝓮𝓮𝓽 𝓬𝓾𝓽𝓮: 𝓢𝓪𝓴𝓾𝓼𝓪 ༻꧂

You were in your favorite coffee shop after your day at work had finished, a small and very cozy shop that was in the middle of Tokyo that surprisingly didn’t have many customers for being in the heart of the country.

After a very tiring day you decided to visit, ordering your favorite pastry and coffee to have while continuing the book you were reading at the moment: The Flowers of Buffoonery by Osamu Dazai.

You were comfortably reading there when suddenly loud voices start to come closer, soon entering the café four people with big bags.

“I told you this place is so quiet! Almost nobody here!” one with greyish hair says

“How d’ya know about this, Bokuto-san? Ya don’t read” one with blonde hair asks

“Akaashi showed it to me when we where in uni!”

“Akaashi-san does seem like someone who would like this place” an orange hair one says now.

You noticed that the black hair one didn’t say anything, in fact he looked rather annoyed by his friends; but deciding to mind your own business, you continue reading while they order. Soon enough they came to sit near you, enthusiastically talking about volleyball and whatever had happened in their practice. You had seen them before, but not enough to know their names.

“Excuse me” you hear a few minutes after, the orange hair dude now beside you smiling brightly “It says Osamu Dazai? Like the dude from Bungo Stray Dogs?”

“Eh? Well, yeah, but…”

“Osamu? Ma brother was named after an author?” the blonde one says, taking his things and setting himself on your table

“You idiots, Osamu Dazai is a real person and a famous author” the black hair one says, looking carefully at the book as the other ones also join you

“Yeah, but it is true that he appears on the anime, all characters are based on real life authors, Dazai being one of them”

“ahh, I see! Thanks for letting us join you! I’m Hinata Shoyo” the orange hair says smiling, making it harder for you to even be mad at them

Surprisingly enough, despite being strangers, they made you feel really comfortable, everyone being chatty and making sure you join their conversation.

“I heard that this book it’s quite good, the protagonist is recovering after a suicide attempt, right?” Sakusa asks you, looking at the book again

“yeah, he’s the only survivor out of the couple. Its much more…joyful than his previous works”

“I see, I might try reading it. How did you found out about it?”

“honestly…because of the anime” you chuckle, making him have a faint smile “it is very good though, so I’m kinda glad I did pick it up”

“I’ve heard of the author, never actually check it out though” he says while looking over at his teammates, who know where loudly discussing about a match “sorry about them, you were reading peacefully and they came and ruined that”

“it’s alright, I don’t mind. They’re funny”

“They’re annoying”

“Omi-kun! Why do ya look more comfortable with her than us? We’ve know each other since high school!” Atsumu whines with a small smirk

“Unlike you bunch, she knows how to act outside”

“Ah! I know! We have a game on Sunday, why don’t you come to watch us Yn-chan?” Hinata asks you, also with a knowing look on his eyes, it seems that the three other players realized something about Sakusa

“Yeah, we can show you how awesome we are! You can see Omi-kun in action too!” Bokuto adds, a slight shade of red in your cheeks

“We have to go, we have practice early tomorrow” Sakusa stands ups, sending a sharp look to the guys and making them stand up saying their goodbyes. Sakusa is the last one to leave, looking at you right before he left “I do hope you can come to see us….maybe you can lend me that book after”

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rebelliousdandy · 4 months

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after all these years, these two still have the most insane chokehold on me

#tbh i WISH they had a chokehold on m-#jk jk... unless?#bokuto #kuroo #bokuroo #brokuroo #kuroo tetsurou #bokuto koutarou #nekoma #fukurodani #msby black jackal #msby bokuto #haikyuu #haikyuu!!#hq!!#timeskip #haikyuu timeskip

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corvid007 · 5 days

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Hinata and Bokuto seem like the kinda guys who would be like, “you look really down, you wanna borrow my girlfriend! she always makes me feel better🥰” but also be kinda pouty and possessive once someone does ‘borrow’ their girlfriend lmao

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vividvivvy · 3 months

Note

how would the MSBY 4 react to fem!reader being stronger then they look by picking each of them up easily??

So, when I saw this immediately one thing popped into my brain. Cause you know who is stronger than they look and pick people up easily. Cheerleaders. (This is biased because I do competitive cheerleading)

MSBY Jackals boys reacting to their cute little cheer leader girlfriend absolutely rocking their shit.

Shoyo Hinata: he had known you did competitive cheerleading of course, but the first time he went to one of your competitions he was in awe. He had never seen anyone jump higher than him until now.

After your round was over he rushed off the bleachers and swept you up into his arms, "oh my goodness babe that was amazing! You didn't tell me you could do any of that stuff!" He pulled back and grabbed your shoulders, shaking you profusely as he shouted and rambled about what he had seen while you were on the mat.

"you were like, up and then back down and then you even picked up that other girl! All by yourself! And then you even threw her in the air!" The smile on his face was one you'd never forget, he looked so proud of you but to you this was just another thing you did regularly.

"Shoyo I have to pick people up like that every single day" your voice was gentle as you wrapped your arms around him and easily managed to lift his feet off the ground, even giving him a small toss before his feet landed back on the ground. "You would make a great flyer Sho"

He faltered for a minute and just stared at you, being picked up wasn't particularly new to him, he was normally one of the smallest people in his friend group, but he'd never been picked up by a girl, especially not one that looked so small and cute, and yet here he was, his sweet little girlfriend had just picked him up like he didn't weigh more then a bag of flour.

"you just did that..."

"yeah, that's kind of what I do babe"

Kotaro Bokuto: brags about you like there is no tomorrow, he knows damn well that he has a cool girlfriend. I feel like that would be well established the first time you did a standing back tuck in front of him (basically a back flip). He had never messaged the team group chat so fast, something like.

"GUYS MY GIRLFRIEND CAN LITERALLY DO A BACKFLIP"

He didn't expect, however, that one day while you were helping out at his volleyball practice, he would see you scoop up his teammate with ease and carry him off the court when he had hurt his leg and couldn't stand. Once the man you can been carrying was set down and settled Bokuto ran up to you yelling. "Babe! Babe! Pick me up to!"

At first you had turned him down, saying that you didn't want to strain your arms too much before practice later, but he started sulking in a random corner of the gym and wouldn't budge. So you walked over and picked him up bridal style.

It was a comical sight honestly, a short girl with skinny arms, holding her giant muscle man of a boyfriend like he was a princess, but there it was. No one would have believed it if they hadn't seen it, but it was right in front of the whole team's eyes. And Atsumu had never snapped a picture faster in his life before walking away and chuckling to himself, Shoyo bouncing like a happy dog at his side, laughing at the photo he took. "That's going on the teams Instagram".

Bokuto couldn't care less about all the eyes on him though, he was beaming with happiness.

"my girlfriend can do a backflip AND she can pick me up!"

Miya Atsumu: Miya thought it was amazing that he had a girlfriend that did competitive cheer, I mean who wouldn't want a cheerleader girlfriend. But he didn't realize how much work went into your sport. You go to the gym almost more than he does. On top of that you do weekly yoga class and have an entire mini gym set up in your house.

"God damn princess, I knew that you were tough but don't go showing me up" he laughed as he watched you easily squat his max, you only smirked and went to get more weights. "It was your idea to go on a gym date my love"

He rolled his eyes and "well yeah but I didn't think you'd totally show me up, I thought I'd get to show off to you." He watched you squat again, you were squatting more then he had in, well ever, "what do you do in cheer, cause God damn"

"I throw people" you spoke nonchalantly and he laughed, waiting for you to continue on, but you only glanced at him from the corner of your eye. "I'm serious babe, I'm a base, my job is literally to throw people" you did crack a smile, you couldn't really stay serious when talking about throwing your teammates around.

"then throw me" he challenged without hesitation, you paused what you were doing and stepped away from where you had been doing your squats, walking up to him with the most neutral face he'd ever seen you with, and reaching down, and lifting him up from just above his knees.

Of course a lot of people in the gym had started staring at this point, I mean a girl who looked like she had never set foot into a gym just lifted her built boyfriend up like a ragdoll.

You held him there for a moment before he felt your entire body shift at your knees, and the large male heard you whisper "1, 2, down, up" then you let go of him and he was in the air, and before he knew it he was planted back on the ground.

It all happened way too quickly for him to process, he just stood there for a minute before a smirk grew over his face.

"well shit. My girlfriend literally just threw me"

Kiyoomi Sakusa: he was never one to show much interest in your sport, he would go to your competitions and congratulate you when you did good and support you when your team didn't do great. But other than that he didn't ask many questions or pry about it, just like you didn't with volleyball.

Though even though you didn't pry much about volleyball, you couldn't help but get super excited for your tall boyfriend when his team would win games. The team had grown accustomed to you rushing the court after they won to jump into your boyfriend's arms, he normally kept his cool in these situations, simply hugging you and holding you up while you shouted and cheered for him.

But this game played out a little differently, you had been on the edge of your seat the whole time, and you could visibly see Sakusa getting more and more frustrated as the two teams were in a constant back and forth. So when Hinata had managed the winning spike, you had never raced down the bleachers faster in your life.

Sakusa braced for you to run up and jump at him like you normally do, wrapping your much smaller frame around him and clinging onto him. But instead you threw your arms around his legs, just below his (flat) butt, lifting your 6'2 boyfriend off the ground. His teammates had never seen the calm and collected Sakusa lose his cool that quick, his center of gravity leaned directly backwards but his short girlfriend held firm to the ground, and didn't put him down until you heard him mumble.

"hey, put me down..." You scrambled to put him down and immediately started apologizing.

"I'm so sorry Yoomi! It's just what I do with the girls in cheer I didn't- it was muscle memory i-"

"it's fine just, no more picking me up when hundreds of people are staring at us, it's really awkward"

Sorry if it's not what you expected! I heavily base y/n on myself so when I read your request it was the first thing that came to mind. I hope it's ok 🫶

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amki-s · 5 months

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Lets go to the beach 🏖

#msby sakusa #msby atsumu #haikyuu #haikyuu msby #bokuto koutarou #hinata shouyou #haikyuu fanart #msby bokuto #msby hinata #msby black jackal

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toshitoshibo · 4 months

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sakusa: sleeping is nice because you're not actually dead and you're not awake so it's win win situation

bokuto: it's like being dead without the commitment

hinata: an open relationship with death

atsumu: death with benefits

meian: oh god-

#sakusa kiyoomi #bokuto koutarou #hinata shouyou #miya atsumu #meian shugo #msby black jackal #msby sakusa #msby bokuto #msby atsumu #haikyuu msby #haikyuu #hq #msby hinata

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hxltic · 1 year

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CHIROPRACTOR BOKUTO KŌTARŌ

• Best friend/Tutor

• Warnings: grinding, pussy eatin!!, female reader (please don’t trust anything scientific I write, this is barely researched and I am not licensed).

• Summary: Bokuto wasn’t physically feeling well, but due to his good nature, pushed it aside. Although you were to help him with studies, you were far from blind. Luckily your major was almost perfect for the moment. He let you test your skills on him, so your hands roamed his body. Maybe it came off more sexual than intended…

“Ughhh…” Bokuto groans.

A creak sounds from far behind you, alluding at the door opening. The sound of the fan gyrating in the background of the apartment slowly dissipates with the air, you assume, because stepping out right after his hot shower then being hit with the cold is the least pleasant thing in the world to him.

You take a sip of the lemonade that resides on the coffee table in front of you. The giant living room TV played whatever sitcom was aired ever since Bo kindly got you as comfy as possible for when he got back, but with your head buried in a book and a gel pen in your hand, it was of no use to you. Finally dressed, he returned.

However, he returned with his right hand placed on his left collarbone, rotating the left shoulder accordingly.

“Are you alright?” You ask. You didn’t look up. Thank god for your intensified range of peripheral vision from reading, seeing the man beside you with naturally fallen hair and water droplets still journeying through curves of his body in full attention would absolutely break you.

Yes, he was your best friend—but you were still a woman with eyes.

“Yeah, I’m okay. Must’ve just overdid it at practice,” he casually replies. You recognized the tone. Despite his loud tendencies, he was being quiet with you because of the item in your criss-crossed lap. The word “just” also apprised you not to worry.

He leans back on the couch with his full attention gravitating towards you.

“Alright Professor, what’s first?” Professor.

Bokuto was the most careless person you knew. He was also the most careful person you knew. Yes he was clumsy, yes he lost things easily, and maybe doesn’t understand others—but he tries. Despite many beliefs, he was extremely attentive on and off the court; his ability to read the room peaks anyone you’ve ever held conversation with. Most of the time he just willfully ignores it. He cared tremendously for anything that was close to him, hence the low volume of the television and the torrential downpour outside to compliment his high focus to your efforts in helping.

He set the room right for you, cleaning up, and being on his best behavior. You doubt he would’ve done such a thing for Kuroo (because he knows of your high expectations for him and he wishes to please you), so you admire the ability to plan his day fit. And the special treatment.

You flipped the book to your right, letting him survey the page without having to crook his head.

“Geographical Impact on Culture Practices and Language,” he reads the subtitle. He then looks at you for confirmation.

“We’re starting with Greece. Then we’ll move to India, then China,” you declare.

“Alright, we’re moving east.” He nods.

You smile and praise, “A great start.”

You’ve come to find the way he learns best is when he knows he’s doing something correctly, and also when he gets something wrong. However with the latter, he has to wield some determination, otherwise he’ll just lose faith in himself. Luckily that has yet to happen.

———

Some time into the practice you recognize the progress that he’s made. With each tutoring he has almost doubled the amount of pages the two of you have gone through, gradually picking up more and more information to build off of. His vocabulary has undeniably grown as well.

“China—as a sphere of influence,” he briskly catches himself: “kept good look on the Mongols because they knew of their ravaging proclivities, while also having almost complete isolation from the rest of the world. The ocean, steppes, deserts, and plateaus were a sense of protection, starting with the Tibetian.” He recites. His notes were short but sweet, he clearly writes down what he doesn’t think he’ll remember. Other than that, he can take a swift look at the topic and depend on memory for the rest.

“Bingo! that sounded great Ko.” You take your glasses off and blink a little, cleaning them off with a handkerchief you keep around. They resume their spot on your nose.

At some point earlier you scooted a little closer, shoulder to shoulder, so you could hold the book and review his notes at the same time. The soap he used you could probably guess the scent of. Once you lifted off him for your lens cleaning, Bokuto runs a hand through his hair and exhales happily, content with himself. He hisses though, quickly contorting his expression to one of pain.

“Shit,” he curses. He attempts to soothe himself by rubbing slow circles on your previous spot. He said it wasn’t anything (even though you doubted his statement from the beginning), yet you leaned on him anyway. You hadn’t meant to hurt him.

“Crap- sorry, was I on it?” You already knew the answer, but it didn’t seem like it was hurting him. Maybe the pressure didn’t matter in the moment, but when your weight came off, the pain returned with what it yielded.

“I didn’t think you were. You’re okay, I’ll put something on it.” He reassures.

“How does it hurt?” He mentally processes your interrogation before answering, probably thinking if Biofreeze would work.

“…It feels tight. Like something is tugging on it and won’t let go.”

“Does it hurt when you tilt your head like this?” You make the movement. He then mimics your action and shakes his head no. “Try the other side.”

He holds a face of slight confusion while attending to your order. He rapidly forms the previous countenance, an obvious sign of discomfort.

“It looks like an overworked muscle, so you were right. But you still need to tend to it.”

Your advice runs through his ear but out the other. You notice his absence of mind and slightly press on the sore shoulder blade spot in front of you to remind him, then it sticks to his brain what he needs to do. Hell, he was an athlete. He’s been told at least a thousand times.

“Can you stretch it out for me?” He asks innocently. Why not?

“Sure,” you agree. “Stand up.”

Following your orders has become his second nature. He knows you wouldn’t sabotage him in any way, so there’s no reason to defy them. You stand behind him, then walk to the open space of the apartment while instructing him to lay down on his stomach. Watching him obediently get to his knees and his muscles involuntarily flex in the short-sleeve shirt he wears does something to you (you’ll never say what). He does a single effortless push-up down to the floor. He lays silently, with his cheek resting in folded arms.

“It’s kinda cold down here.”

“Whatever,” you giggle, and follow him down. Fuck, it is kinda cold. Anyway, you go to check to see how his body is aligned. “I’m gonna lift your shirt up, ‘kay? Just sit still.”

He hums in acknowledgement and you’re pretty sure his eyes close. Your fingertips find the end of the thin cotton that does great things for his sharp figure, and lift only the back part. He slightly raises his body from his core, allowing you to pull just a little harder and get past his waist, leading to finally slipping it up to his under-arms. He aggravatingly groans at the temperature below him. You try your best to remember the context of said groan, while also ignoring the thought of his carved chest pressing on the hardwood.

The small things he does that prove his pure strength get your mind roaming. Being able to do push-ups with quickness, having utter control over his core, lifting heavy things with ease—you need to get a hold of yourself.

You run your hands along the freshly-washed, soft, skin of his back. It was an awkward angle being on his side, so you hesitantly swing your leg over, and reside right before his spine ends. Please, please don’t come off the wrong way. He lets out a heavy breath.

“Lay your hands outwards naturally.” He shifts. His left shoulder blade was slightly higher than the right, showing clear tension.

“You’re right handed, correct?” You inquire.

“Correct.” It comes out low and throaty, his face pressed to the floor. He was quiet every time you were around. He knew you appreciated few words—especially in a moment dedicated to studies and reading—so he’d trade out his loud self for your comfort, even if you didn’t mind the usual Bokuto that drew you to him the first time you met. He almost sounded tired.

You place your hands in the space between the scapula and press slightly. “Does it hurt there?”

“No ma’am.”

“So it’s only the left then. I’m going to run my hands along the bone while also pressuring the muscle. It’ll hurt a little, so just tell me when to stop.” Bokuto giggles a little, just airy enough to be able to hear. You don’t even acknowledge it because you don’t wish to be lead to the same sexual depravity his mind is situated in. Not like yours is any better.

You roll your hands through the muscle, upwards towards his deltoid, working it with a technique you were taught. This hopefully loosens it up the slightest bit if you were doing it right. You also tell him he could resume his previous position since you could sense how uncomfortable he was.

“Based on what I’ve gathered: not only do you constantly hit with your right hand, it’s your dominant arm so almost everything everyday is done on it. With your left, however, it’s not the main focus of what you do.” Your fingertips dig into his skin.

“I’m not sure what you necessarily work on in practice but because it’s not trained for nearly as much as your right, it’s taken a toll. The tension capacities are different. The scapula are naturally connected by the trapezius muscle so this is why it hurts to lean the opposite way,” you explain. You can almost feel his astonishment as he cocks his head behind him and looks you up and down through grey lashes. He still lays down, almost unbothered by you rubbing up against his bare back whenever you move.

“Y’know you never cease to amaze me? You know a lot about my body.” He compliments slyly. You blush at the word choice. He’s been very, very testy today.

You relent, “Not just yours, we’re all human Ko. Now take a deep breath.”

“Mhmm…Anything for you,” he states sarcastically. You could tell it was sarcasm, so why did it still affect you? You rise a bit on his back from the large breath. With a sudden press to the center, he curses in shock, then follows with an animalistic groan.

“Holy fuck, do that again,” he sighs. You press his head down between his arms, lift the left one behind his neck, and connect his hand to his right blade. You only tug a little, careful not to hurt him. Another faint crack.

He moans happily. You release him from your legs, saving the both of you from the suggestive position. It would only get worse from here, for when you needed him to turn over.

“Turn over, please.” He listens and grunts on his way up. Twisting his body over, now propped on his elbows, you could tell most weight was still shifted to his right arm. Bokuto rolls down to his back.

“You’re in charge,” he exhales, running his hands over his face. You knew he had to be cold, the previous warmth you provided was canceled out completely by the cool wood. This was where you’d have to straddle him again—except now it was ten times harder, ten times more suggestive—and you couldn’t stop the slight red from decorating your skin.

“It’s gonna be a little weird at first,” you warn.

“It’s only as weird as you make it,” he smiles knowingly. His knees come up, fully prepared for you to spread over him. Not to mention his chest was still out— It was far more entrancing than his backside. Nonetheless, you swing your leg over once more, and it takes everything in the male to not instinctively place his large hands under your lower thigh to help you. The first thing you do is pull the shirt as low as possible, attempting to cover any temptations.

“What? You scared of me?” Bo entertains.

You clear your throat more for stabilizing yourself, “No, it’s just not necessary at the moment. Left hand over your chest.”

“Sure,” he pushes incredulously, even you could tell he wasn’t the least bit convinced. You’re really fucking scared.

He crosses his left hand over his chest like a salute. His eyes never leave yours under long grey and black hair, except for when you order him to take another deep breath. You grab his arm and push left swiftly, but the pop sounds from his lower back. You must’ve pushed him too far left but he wasn’t complaining. “Sorry, one more time.” You lay forwards, building the strength to push more downwards this time into him, then finally get the spot you hoped for. His mouth opens for a moan again, nothing sounds but a breath of air.

“I would literally pay you for that. Is this just a secret talent?” He breathlessly questions.

“I major in exercise science, so we do a lot of studies on biology and human anatomy. The rest I just kind of guessed to be honest.”

Once he comes down from the feeling and opens his eyes to you still close on his chest, his head goes to dangerous places. Especially since you were smiling at him from your proud work and your back had a slight arch to it. This angle made your proportions completely surreal, your ass enlarging and your waist thinning at the hands of perspective. Of course, you did also just push with a significant amount of quick pressure directly into his groin.

“Okay, how does it feel?” You push up eagerly with your hands on his clothed chest. Your palms were perfectly atop his breasts.

“Like I need a cold shower.”

Surprisingly, you agree with this statement, it was good for the body and should be talked about more for people farther than athletes.

“Good. It’s great for relaxing the sore muscle,” You smile innocently. Ko laughs mainly to himself, “Yeah, it is.”

Your hair falls around your shoulders and over his head. His beautiful golden eyes were almost hidden by his long hair, but those large, expressive eyebrows could be spotted anywhere. They allowed you to read him like a book. At some point, your hands started slightly roaming the surface of his hard body, and your smile fell. You were subconsciously inching closer and closer to him.

Bokuto was disposed to let it happen. You’d been subtly rubbing up on him all day, and most of his words were limited because of you. God, how he loved listening to you go on and on about the subject he hated most, it made him at a loss for words; a rare feeling for someone who always had something to say. Your glasses framed your face perfectly, and your educated speech had him locked up in a poetic cage that you wielded the key to. The worst part is? He wasn’t sure if he wanted it unlocked.

You were already so close to him, his body, so when he brushed a piece of hair back with his fingertips and manually removed your glasses in a way that wouldn’t hurt you, you halted. It was almost like your conscious returned, telling you every bad effect possible. The angel on your shoulder was momentarily silenced by the devil, but finally broke free of the reigns just to declaim you the consequences of your decisions.

“Wait Ko,” you begin, “I-I um…don’t think we should.” You moderately shake your head. “It’ll change things.”

Your voice barely peeks above a whisper. He watched as the realization hit, your eyebrows upturned.

“Isn’t that the fun in it?” His eyes train to your lips before they finally find yours. “Things change all the time,” he smiles hopelessly. His large hand weaves through your hair and pulls you down to him.

Just like that, you were sold. Your full lips meet.

You moan gently in his mouth and fall chest to chest. Now your arch was fully purposeful. Pecks and sweet kisses dissolved into longer ones, it didn’t take long before he was sucking on your tongue like candy. You took up the job of twisting your head to search deeper into his throat, his current position rendering him unable to do what he desires to be doing to you. You think of the possibilities.

Maybe he’d take you on the wall with both legs under his control, slamming into you as you grab onto whatever leverage you could find. Or, he would bend you over in the shower with several fingers inside you and a hand on your throat, your body stuttering as the hot liquid runs down to the drain. You audibly moaned at this on accident.

Desperate, you grind down into him. His hands grip the fat of your ass, but he pulls from your puffy lips and away from your ruffled hair.

“Whatcha thinkin of? Can see it on your face.”

Your strong, independent woman composure was crumbling by the second above him, “Nothing,” you gasp, “just thinking.” He nips at your jaw, then follows down to your neck. He touches on a spot that’s always been sensitive, causing you to let out a keening whine, but he doesn’t say anything, so you assume he wants you to elaborate. You unintentionally moan, “Yes,” and he laughs into your neck.

“Tell me what about.” He’s pushing you further; seeing how much information he could get to leak out of you based off how far gone you were.

“You…touching me,” You reply, fully prepared for what he’s about to ask you next. You’ve read enough books to know. But that wasn’t the issue in question, it was how you’d reply. Would you crumble and shy away, or be bold and instruct him to give it to you? Would you elucidate it to him with the praising tone you know he adores?

“How was I touching you y/n?” Your name rolled so prettily off his kissing tongue. His grip on you tightened awaiting your answer, a problem beneath you that’s risen figuratively and literally.

“Um…” your blush spread so you tucked your face in his neck. “Your fingers were inside.”

It was a lot harder than it looks.

“Is that what you want?” A big grin spreads across his face—you can feel it.

“Yes.”

He finds your legs situated around his waist, sits up, and somehow comes to his feet. You were at least 5 feet in the air now. He casually walks to the couch and flips you on it, but a jagged edge cuts into your back.

“Book, ow ow-“ you wince in pain. By instinct you lifted back up, where he was already prying away the notebook hidden behind the pillows. He sends an apologetic smile and drags you along by your legs once the regained sexual drive returned. Next leaves your jeans.

Just waiting to see his prize, he gets them off quickly. The panties you wore were nothing absolutely special, but they were still lacy nonetheless; your previous being not finding a thong necessary on the way here. Bokuto could care less. The time you took thinking about it was the time he took to rip them off.

You scolded him for it, to which he responded “I’ll buy you any more you want” while punctually kissing your thighs. At the same time his fingers rose and spread your top folds, revealing the wetness you’ve gathered over the span of the past 10 minutes. He dunks a single finger in shallowly, then further pushes the digit deeper, and then turns it upside down so he could curl upwards. His large eyes focus on your heavy-breath reactions while his mouth licks away at your clit. The finger eventually comes out.

“Ko,” you utter. He hums in your pussy with his tongue swirling around. “You aren’t learning like this.” His throaty laugh reverberates up your center and through your body.

“Teach me.”

Once you get what he means, slowly, you reach for the casted away book as he holds your hips in place. It has proven harder than anticipated. His large arms encased your legs, wrapping around your thighs like a fucking present. You should’ve known he’d love it like this; it’s just you assumed he’d favor breathing.

Your glasses were in someplace on the floor elsewhere. Good thing you were near-sighted, but with how he was doing you, it would continue to be cumbersome. You open to a familiar page, already cracking when he sucks at your skin, but you resume a reviewing lesson nonetheless.

“Greece is—hmm—located in Europe,” you take a deep breath, “on the Mediterranean and just to the right of—“

“—The Italian Peninsula.” He completes. He slips two fingers in, scissoring you out and almost toying with you at this point. You were so, unbelievably wet.

You squirm in his hold and brush hair out of your face. He noticed how your eyebrows were forced upwards the slightest bit, resulting in a growing, complacent smile against your pussy lips. “Greece is surrounded by many little islands and water, therefore—”

“—Inducing maritime trade,”

“…And?” Your eyes shutter closed in the moment. The textbook was slowly dropping from your chest.

“Shipbuilding.” Breath fanned against your already extremely responsive body. Deliriously, you slightly open your eyes to find Kotarou’s jawline constantly moving with his pink tongue. He knew when to fill in the blank based off when you lowered the book to see him, expecting an answer. He’d never move away when speaking and just proceeded on with his job. So adroit, the male was—still tactful too, you had to be reading 10x less than your average speed.

You clear your throat, trying your best not to moan while reciting like earlier.

“The soil wasn’t ideal, so majority of the food was—“

“—olives, grapes, ‘n fish.” He was more muffled since the two fingers he had running through you were now pumping soothingly, and when he curled upwards again, the book slid off your breasts, prompted by the sudden arch you displayed, and even further bolstered by your fingers weaving through his hair.

“Great fucking job Ko, just like that.” The praise falls from your mouth and only provokes him to slurp and suck on your pussy harder. Of course, the words could’ve been relative to the studies, but both ways work. The squelch sounds relay through your brain.

His (somewhat) free left hand comes under your shirt, adventures it’s way past your bra. His large hand carries a respective imprint under your shirt. When he feels around the round of your breasts, he slows around your nipple, just waiting to suck on them when he gets the chance.

Feeling you up was his literal favorite thing ever. The thought of your hips automatically rolling up into his touch purely by will and desire fuels his brain in unimaginable ways. Calloused yet soft hands gliding along every curve and roll to memorize the trek of your body, the responses and reactions gathering into knowledge for reservation.

Your right leg was thrown over his shoulder, to which his bicep curled around to reach your upper body where his head dug through your lower. You were so close to nothing and everything, like something in you was held taut, just the interval alone precipitating another hiatus in your mind. His hand rolled around your breast almost as if it were a handle.

“That’s so good Kotarou, don’t stop—show me how good you eat it for me,”

He tried his best to circle his face around and flick the muscle over your clit. There wasn’t much room to move. An easy adapter he was, so he removed his digits and hugged you tight with twain arms. He held his tongue flat and idle, allowing full consent for your hips to gyrate and stutter on his face as you pleased. His long, variegated, fallen hair was threaded through your nails while he moaned himself encouragingly until finally, it snapped.

A loud stream of mushed words and imprecations poured from your lips and reflected off the walls into his covered ears. Unconsciously, legs locked around his head to prohibit his quit, and if your neurological clearheaded mind were apprised that the fingers drenched with your own slick were slipping over your abdomen, the feeling alone would’ve turned you over. However, it wasn’t, therefore creating the most mind-altering orgasm you’ve ever had.

All you could do was laugh whole-heartedly towards the ceiling at the whole thing as it washed over you. It was the epitome of cliche. You were his tutor, helping him out, and somehow ended up landing on the couch with his face betwixt you. His golden eyes were nothing short of a symbol of his happiness, proud of himself and you. You were definitely proud of him too.

No more failed tests!

2K notes · View notes

creative-crybaby · 1 year

Text

A Helping Hand

PAIRING: timeskip!Bokuto Koutarou x fem!reader

GENRE: smut (18+)

Minors DNI

TAGS + WARNINGS: oral (m and f receiving), edging, fingering, masturbation (m and f), cum eating, size kink (kinda sorta), hair-pulling, light praise kink, lowkey pining on your part, subby!Bo (mostly)

Let me know if I missed anything.

WORD COUNT: 5.4k

SUMMARY: Of all the things you’d help your roommate with, improving his sex life wasn’t on the list. All characters are 18+

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Still losing it over the fact that lil Bo went to college. Love that for him <3

Life is full of surprises, you suppose.

For starters, you didn’t expect to hear your roommate’s frustrated voice cursing loudly from his room. Your laundry basket falls from your grasp from the startling sound. A day meant for completing chores hadn’t changed much for you so much as it had decided to prioritize different tasks. You didn’t think this would be the case upon opening Bokuto’s door.

Slumped against the headboard of his bed sits the eccentric volleyball player, the hem of his t-shirt trapped between his teeth and boxers down to his muscular thighs while his hand is wrapped around his hard cock.

The sound of his door opening has his attention snapping towards the entrance, his face morphing into a mortified expression upon finding you standing there in shock.

“(Y/N)!” Bokuto stammers, his posture straightening as his shirt falls onto his torso. “You’re back early! Um… already done with the groceries, huh?”

“Found everything we needed pretty quickly, yeah.” You force your gaze elsewhere as you find your voice. “You didn’t hear me come in?”

Your roommate doesn’t answer. With the awkward silence that fills the room, it’d be best for you to walk out as if none of this ever happened. Easier said than done when your feet seem glued to the floor and your eyes itch to catch another glance, though.

“It’s not what it looks like,” he insists, panic evident in his tone as he waves his (unoccupied) hand in front of him. “I’m just… uh—”

“It’s fine,” you cut off, surprising yourself with how calm you sound. “It’s completely normal and healthy to, uh, masturbate.” You cringe at the word, your fingers twiddling mindlessly. “Anyway, I should’ve knocked first. I just thought you got hurt when I heard—”

“I wasn’t!” Bokuto blurts. He quickly glances down, remembering he’s still exposed, and tucks himself in just as fast. “I’m training.”

Your head snaps back to face him, your expression perplexed. “What?”

With his face growing redder, you realize that one word was one word too many.

“Gotta up my stamina,” he clarifies, voice becoming somewhat steadier. “The team–well, mainly Tsum-Tsum–was joking about how I’ll stay single forever if I don’t last long in bed.” You don’t get to ask him how he got to that conversation; then again, you’re not sure you want to know. It’s Miya Atsumu he’s talking about. “And, well… I figured I could prepare myself by, um… jerking it ‘til I last longer. I was trying to think about other stuff to stop me from finishing early, but all it did was make me sad.” His tone falters as the tips of his hair droop, a pout forming on his lips. “Now I’m trying not to cry, ‘cause that’s also a turn-off in sex, apparently.”

…

What do you say to that?

The shock from catching him in a compromising position has long since evaporated, and now confusion swoops in to take its place. Your immediate reaction usually would be to laugh, more out of nervousness or discomfort than actually finding anything humorous, but knowing your roommate, he’d take it to heart. You’re also certain that dismissing yourself to resume your tasks is too late, and with Bokuto starting to sniffle, there’s only one thing you even think to do.

“Ko,” you sigh without sounding discouraged, taking your time to sit at the foot of the bed. “I’m no expert on your abilities, but you should give yourself more credit than that. I’m sure with your training, your stamina is more than fine.” You hesitate, unsure if this path is the way to go. Regardless, you don’t allow your face to show your uncertainty. “Even if that isn’t the case, that’s okay! It’s completely normal to not last a long time.” Finally, the wing spiker peers over at you, giving you doe eyes while subconsciously leaning in. “As long as you show your partner that you’re putting in some kind of effort for them, isn’t that what really counts? It doesn’t hurt to ask them what they’re into: you’re no mind-reader, after all.”

You’re not given a response for some time, and part of you wonders if you’ve possibly said too much. What were you trying to reassure him of? Despite the situation, he doesn’t appear as uncomfortable as one normally would. And the last thing you would want is to make him feel that way. Still, all you did was walk in on him at a bad time; you should have walked away.

“What do you like?” His voice cuts through your thoughts. You’re not sure if it’s the meek tone or the question itself that takes you aback, but either way, your brain spirals with more questions of its own instead of an answer for him. And when Bokuto’s expression matches yours, wide eyes and parted lips, his fingers play with the hem of his shirt. “Forget it. I shouldn’t have asked. I’m sorry—”

“No!” you exclaim, causing his attention to snap back to you. It doesn’t take much from Bokuto for you to give in to him. But whenever his eyes glimmer as he beams at you, helping him in whatever he needs becomes worth it. Besides, as dense as he may be at times, he’s still aware of others and their emotions. Making you uncomfortable is never his intention. Maybe you spoil him too much, or perhaps you just trust him enough not to take things too far. Regardless, a part of you is eager enough to want to know where all of this could possibly go. “I mean—it’s fine. Really.”

“I can just ask Akaashi,” your roommate assures, getting up to reach for his phone.

You panic, grabbing onto his wrist before he can move any further. Akaashi’s been through enough.

“Look,” you breathe out the anxiety before proceeding, “We’ve been living together since our college days, Ko. We shouldn’t have to tiptoe around each other about stuff forever. Sure, there are limits, but so long as we respect each other’s boundaries, I think this is something we should be able to discuss.” You chuckle for good measure. “It’s not like this is the first time I caught you in an awkward predicament.”

Bokuto’s face glows a bright red–honestly, it probably hasn’t stopped doing so–as he recalls your implications. Making oneself at home is not a saying he takes lightly; him strutting around the comfort of his apartment in nothing but a towel is a common sight you witness. (The times you caught him in even less are a different story.) An old habit that started as soon as he could walk, even with two older sisters in the house. They moved out once he hit his double-digits, and he doesn’t even realize he does it anymore.

“Right,” he mumbles before nodding at his bed. “The sheets are clean, by the way. Don’t worry.”

Taking his word, you shift closer to the athlete, the two of you directly facing each other with only a foot-long distance between your bodies.

“Okay,” you breathe, eyes not knowing where to look. “What exactly do you want to know?”

Bokuto scratches the nape of his neck, lips pressed into a thin line. “I dunno. I still wanna last long enough to make the other person feel good. So… any suggestions?” When you don’t offer a response, he continues. “I already told you about the sad thoughts as a distraction and jerking it a bunch of times ‘til I can hold out longer—and trust me, I’ve tried a bunch of ti—”

“Okay, okay!” you cut off, raising a hand to silence him. Fixing your posture, you attempt to ignore the heat radiating from your face. “How about edging?” The athlete tilting his head to the side is more than enough of an answer. “Kind of self-explanatory. Just keep making yourself feel good, and then stop when you’re about to… finish.” Bokuto stares at you, though you can’t say if it’s because he’s still processing your words or if his mind is blank. “Totally cool if you’re not comfortable with any of this.”

“I want to,” your roommate perks up, changing his sitting position with a gulp. The reason behind the actions wasn’t hidden quickly enough: you catch sight of his returning bulge before he can lift his knees to his chest. “So,” he coughs, golden eyes focusing on anything that isn’t you, “have you… tried it? Just wondering if it’s any good, you know?”

“O-Oh,” you stammer, subconsciously squeezing your thighs together. “Well, only a couple of times. Not for me specifically, but my hookup liked it.” Hesitantly, you force a glance toward your roommate, whose blush has now travelled to his ears and neck. “Everyone’s different, you know? I preferred telling him when to stop instead of being edged myself. Maybe you’ll like it. Doesn’t hurt to try new things.”

All of this could be going absolutely nowhere, and realizing this makes you subconsciously slouch in disappointment. Talks like these, the personal ones, are rare with Bokuto. You’d discuss the future in your college days, and you’d discover a side to him, a calmer one. This talk’s different, of course. And you’re more than eager to keep it going, albeit just as anxious should a line be crossed. Still, this feels like the longest conversation you ever had with him, which you know is false. A chatterbox if there ever was one, he speaks more than he doesn’t. Sometimes you have to find ways to end the chit-chat yourself. Now you’re the one looking for something to say. Is there anything more to say?

Whatever the answer may have been, Bokuto beats you to it. “Do you want to try? Edging me?”

A simple yes or no question from someone who isn’t looking for anything other than a simple yes or no answer. Yet, with the possibility of where this situation may go being too good to be true, you swallow down your excitement. Just in case.

“I’m a bit confused with your questions.” A timid laugh escapes you as you scratch the nape of your neck, though for once, you’d say you’re anything but uncomfortable. “Are you trying to better your stamina or learn how to pleasure your partner in bed?”

“Can’t I want both?” the athlete purses his lips in thought, the question for him just as much as it is for you.

“Well, yeah. I guess.”

“Then let’s try it.” Bokuto’s eyes light up as his expression becomes serious. You recall seeing him make that face during his games, focusing on the ball before spiking it into the opponent’s side of the court.

A chill tumbles down your spine as a flame rises to your face. “What are you saying we do exactly?”

“Whatever we want,” he shrugs. His nonchalance has you slumping in your spot as you recall being the one trying to reassure him only a minute ago. The myriad of emotions he offers combined with the amount he’s ripping from you taxes your energy: today was meant for chores, damn it. “You said we shouldn’t have to hide stuff from each other, right? Unless you don’t want to, we can talk about and try stuff together and still be friends. You’re pretty smart when it comes to these kinds of things, yeah? Help me out, and maybe I can do the same for you in return.”

Stuff, things. Vague words with thousands of implications. Even within context, your brain spins in a blender trying to find more specific replacements for them, only for them to fluster you further.

But this is Bokuto you’re talking about: a walking contradiction. Spontaneous and comfortable enough to be unpredictable, yet open enough to have a list of weaknesses written out by his peers in preparation. You’ve witnessed his heavy mood swings—helped him out of them, even. You also know, by now, what sets them off. Your answer won’t be one of them, so why walk around those eggshells he didn’t even place before you?

“Okay,” you nod curtly, proud of your voice for not wobbling. Bokuto beams, puffing his chest out.

“Great!” he gushes. A pause. “Now what?”

Bless his heart, you almost sigh as your body relaxes. Instead, you take a deep breath. “Strip, maybe?”

Your roommate nods, humming in approval before immediately shifting his position to swipe his shorts and boxers down.

This isn’t the first time you’ve caught a glimpse of Bokuto’s cock—again, what little awareness he has left flies out the window after he showers. This is, however, the first time you notice the details. You forget how big, how thick, he actually is until you catch sight of it again, and you’re certain this fact will engrain itself in your memories after this experience. The flushed tip and veins scattered around the shaft don’t pass your observation, either, only adding to the intimidation as it stands tall. Is that thing staring at you?

You salivate from the sight, yet your roommate peers at you worriedly, your silence taking him down the road of insecurity. “Does it look gross? I swear, I wash it during every shower and bath—I’m thorough, too! Well, not in a weird way. I mean, like I—”

“Ko!” Your sudden outburst has him clamping his mouth shut and straightening his posture. You soften your tone, your expression almost apologetic. “It’s not that. Your size just… caught me off-guard, I guess.”

“Oh,” he mumbles, taking in your words with a light pink dusting his cheeks. Once your response fully processes through his brain, his eyes widen before he puffs his chest out, a sudden wave of confidence washing over him. “Oh!”

The athlete grins, a chuckle rumbling from his chest as his worries evaporate. You watch with tired eyes, wondering if you should say something to get him off his high horse. You figure no, a happy Bokuto is better than an anxious one, especially in a situation like this. Your focus trails down to your shorts before you hook your thumbs past the waistband.

The duo-haired male’s laughter dies down when he catches sight of you shifting to sit with your legs spread, shorts and panties already on the floor. His stare, plus your arousal so close to dripping from your entrance, sends heat to your face. Your eyes refuse to look up at him, instead training on the sheets you’re certain you’re going to stain.

“Normally, I’d start with foreplay to get me ready,” you mumbled hesitantly, toying with the hem of your shirt. You laugh dryly, almost cringing at the lack of enthusiasm. “But I guess that won’t be necessary this time.”Your fingers take their time sliding down to separate your lower lips. You catch Bokuto’s gaze darkening as it zeroes in on the mess between your legs. “We’re both going to start, but you follow the pace I set for you. If you’re going to cum, tell me and stop when I tell you to. I’m in charge of your pleasure, understand?”

You finally look back at him. Though your words hold power, your tone still carries hesitance. Then again, you never thought your relationship with your roommate would become any more intimate than accidentally using the other’s toothbrush or cleaning their dirty underwear (or catching the other straight out of the shower, you suppose). Despite his lack of predictability, messiness, and loud personality, Bokuto is the best roommate you’ve had. Your movie marathons are full of laughter and inside jokes you wouldn’t trade for anything, he surprisingly plays the role of therapist pretty well with his emotional intelligence as he listens to your problems and offers advice, and he’s your reminder to enjoy life past all things work-related. His attractive physique is also a bonus, with tight shirts giving you plenty of eye candy while every pair of pants he sports compliments his ass. Pair that with his boyish nature, and you can’t help but harbour some feelings you’d rather not admit. This moment may be your big break; you only hope it’s the same for him.

The athlete gives you a nod, words seemingly failing him as his eyes continue to be mesmerized by your slick-stained cunt. You tilt your head upwards, signifying that he can start. With a shaky breath, he wraps his hand around his girth, gathering his precum with his thumb before slowly stroking himself. It’s when he hisses at the contact do you start as well, swiping some of your essence before bringing your fingers to your clit. You sigh as you circle the tiny pearl, eyes fluttering closed from bliss and embarrassment. They don’t stay that way for long, however, as all it takes for you to open them once more is the sound of your roommate whimpering your name.

Bokuto’s head is thrown back as his pace quickens ever so slightly. The light blush on his cheeks evolves into a vermillion veil on his neck and chest, his skin shining from the first drops of sweat forming on his face and body. His cock seems to drool more than it was moments ago, white liquid gliding down his shaft and pooling at the base. The tip isn’t in any better condition, its colour darkening to a more aggressive shade of red. A solid man reduced to a puddle in a matter of seconds is enough to give you your voice back and make your cunt throb.

“Don’t tell me you’re going to cum already,” you quip, though your voice wobbles near the end.

“N-No,” he rasps weakly, brows creasing. “It just feels good, is all.” The wing spiker cuts himself off to catch his breath, and you watch as his chest rises and falls with every pant. “Does it feel good for you, too?”

You breathe a laugh, rubbing tighter circles as your boldness feeds off his uncharacteristic bashfulness.

“Yeah,” you hum, tilting your head to the side. “Real good, but you know,” you spread your legs further apart, “what I’m doing right now to myself, not everyone is into.”

Your gaze falls from Bokuto’s face to his cock once more, watching as he bucks his hips into his fist. For a moment, you imagine being in his hand’s place, squeezing him for everything he’s worth and forcing whimpers out of him.

Your roommate moans. “Don’t care. I wanna know how you feel now.”

Your lids droop at his stubborn words. If he continues the behaviour outside the bedroom, you might remain lenient with him forever. Part of you wonders if that’s even such a bad idea, coddling someone whose happiness will always return the favour.

“My body feels hot,” you start, squirming in your hold as you try to find your following words. “Playing with my clit always feels best, makes me cum real hard, but you know,” your digits momentarily leave the sensitive nub to slide down to your hole, index finger taking its time entering, “sometimes I just need something inside me.” You’re certain you can already squeeze another finger in, and you prove yourself correct as the middle one joins in. Pumping the digits inside you has you mewling and rolling your hips in tandem, making you almost lose your train of thought.

Bokuto whines at your narration, and you both shiver. “Fuck, (Y/N). Gonna… gonna—”

“Stop.” Your voice has a mind of its own once you realize what he was implying. The athlete follows your command without hesitation, though it doesn’t stop him from whining at the loss of contact. You catch his cock twitch, precum oozing down the shaft; the sight alone has you clenching around your fingers, but you don’t halt your movements.

“(Y/N),” your roommate pants, digging his nails into his thighs. “C’mon, I’ve waited long enough.”

“Didn’t you say you wanted to try this?” You purse your lips, clearly unamused. “I only stopped you once.” When all you’re offered is a whimper and pleading eyes, your actions aren’t your own. Along with slipping your hands out of your pussy (much to your displeasure), your newfound confidence asks the athlete, “Do I need to do all the work for you here?”

The question almost didn’t register for him, his brain hazy as his glossy eyes focus on your slick-stained fingers. Bokuto only snaps out of his floating cloud when you crawl to settle between his muscular thighs. You peer at him, surprisingly patient as you await a response.

“I’ll be good,” he barely manages to whisper. “I’ll be so good for you. Please.”

With the prettiest confirmation wobbling past his swollen lips, you shift in your spot as you lean down, your face mere inches away from his weeping cock.

Your out-of-nowhere confidence rush affects your cheekiness as well, making you kitten lick his tip to gain a reaction. You’re rewarded with shaky breaths and a whimper of your name. It’s more than enough to have you engulf the mushroom head in one swoop and suckle it clean. You hardly get to process the tingling of your tastebuds when your roommate suddenly bucks his hips, almost making you gag.

“Sorry,” he stutters breathlessly as you pull away. “Please, don’t stop.”

You narrow your eyes at him, and for someone with such a large build, Bokuto never looked so meek. “Do you, or do you not, want to hold out for me?”

Your sudden coldness makes the duo-haired male shiver. With glossy eyes, your roommate grabs onto your wrist, mumbling apologies and promising he’ll “do whatever you say, be sosososo good.” From what you heard from Akaashi, the athlete’s mood swings are no longer as intense as they used to be back in high school. They don’t overwhelm you any less, though; he wants to make you proud, and you want to give him a day to remember.

With a final deep breath, you swoop back to swallow more of his cock. Easier said than done: you’re certain the only way to take him down your throat is by unhinging your jaw. If you weren’t so eager, you’d take your time with each inch. Instead, you accidentally gag yourself, only managing to regain composure moments later. Your head bobs at a moderate pace while your hands follow along by jerking whatever you can’t take in your mouth. Your slurping and light gagging overpowers the athlete’s grunts and gasps, you notice in disappointment. But when you catch his thighs clenching and unclenching from the corner of your vision, you consider it all worth it.

Your jaw aches; bitterness seeps onto your tongue as Bokuto’s cock continues to leak. If you didn’t know better, you’d think he had already finished. Then he gasps your name: a warning. You pull back once more.

You clear your throat. “Still going, huh?”

Your roommate tries to catch his breath, a shiver of neglect cascading down his spine.

“Please.” His eyes do more pleading than his words and tone, his will close to shattering as he hiccups. “This is the longest I’ve managed to last. I can cum now, right? You don’t need t’keep dragging this on, (Y/N). C’mon—”

You haven’t been keeping track of your little session with the wing spiker. And if his claim is true, there’s no reason to drag it out any longer. Still, seeing him in such a vulnerable place outside his mood swing lows, all teary-eyed and sniffling and red, makes you want to tease him just a bit longer. This is an experiment for you just as much as it is for him now. What happens should you push him to his limit? How far would he go to achieve his release? Would you be the best he’s ever had? Or, the only one he’ll ever want to have again?

There’s always next time to figure all of that out. (Next time? Next time.) If your jaw didn’t feel like it was about to disconnect from the rest of your face, you’d give yourself a little more freedom.

“So needy,” you mutter. “All right. I’ll let you cum this time. Don’t think I’ll always be this lenient with you.”

Whatever implications that last part brought with it, neither of you got to register it; you didn’t want to, and Bokuto couldn’t. The athlete only mumbles his thanks breathlessly as you go down on him once more.

You make quick work, bobbing your head faster than before while your tongue slithers around the shaft and drags along a prominent vein on the underside of his dick. Your roommate does little to stop himself from vocalizing his pleasure, moaning loud enough to mask whatever sounds your mouth is making. Whenever you need a break, your hands join in, jerking whatever they can hold while you suck on his tip. It isn’t until you fondle his balls that he howls.

“Cumming!” Bokuto cries in between rapid and heavy breaths. “Fuck, cumming! Fuckfuckfu—”

A large hand finds itself on the back of your neck, keeping you in place as the owner’s hips buck into your warm mouth. Your eyes widen and water from the sudden invasion, and you have to squeeze your left hand into a fist to prevent yourself from choking on the spurts of cum. You try to distract yourself by listening to the wing spiker’s drawn-out groan—you could probably feel the vibrations coming off from him if you truly pay attention.

The second you’re able to pull away, you do so sputtering. Bokuto’s at your side in a second, hand on your back.

“Shit,” he rasps. “Sorry, sorry. I’m—holy shit, sorry.”

You swallow whatever you can before swiping your lips with the back of your hand, your face growing warm. So much for your little power trip.

You lift your hand to him. “It’s fine.”

A silent “okay” is all you hear from the athlete before the room falls silent. You should probably keep up your façade while you still can, you figure, though words fail you as you wonder where to bring this session.

You furrow your brows at the sudden pang between your legs. You never got the chance to finish, too eager to feel your roommate as soon as the opportunity presented itself. Your thighs clench, something he doesn’t miss.

“Did you, um,” he swallows, “you know—”

“Hm?” Your head snaps up to face him. “Oh! Um, no. Not really.” The athlete falters, the ends of his hair drooping. It’s enough to alarm you. “But it’s not like it’s your fault or anything. I stopped because I wanted to focus on you, that’s all.”

His posture and expression remain unchanged, though his insecurity seems to have moved aside as he rubs his chin, pondering. After several moments, he slams his fist into his palm.

“So now it’s my turn.” The athlete states matter-of-factly.

You quirk a brow at him. “You had your turn already.”

He shakes his head, his face somewhat eager. “No, no. I mean, now I’m going to return the favour.”

You blink, then your hands fly forward, your mouth speaking before your brain fully processes. “You don’t have to—”

Bokuto grabs your wrists, his expression morphing into a heavy one. You freeze.

“I had two goals in mind, remember?” He pauses, reading your face to search for any signs of discomfort. “Let me make you feel good, like you did for me.”

The aching between your thighs answers for you long before the rational part of you does, and you hate how convincing it is.

You sit back, resting your weight on your hands and slowly spreading your legs. “Better make me proud, then.”

Your poor attempt does little to soothe your nerves, but luckily your roommate’s enthusiasm does plenty to move you forward. Lying on his stomach with his legs swinging in the air, Bokuto hooks your knees over his shoulders before eagerly licking an experimental stripe across your cunt. Your surprised gasp is enough encouragement for him as he quickly gets to work, practically making out with your pussy.

He’s sloppy, but that’s to be expected. You’re not sure if he’s just forgotten what you told him before, or if he’s excited to try whatever’s been handed to him, but at least he cares.

His nose nudges against your clit, and you grind against his face to reach for that pleasure. The wind spiker groans, then stops.

Before you complain, one of his hands snakes toward your pussy, tracing your lower lips as he ponders. Once he’s gathered enough slick, he slowly presses a finger into your entrance, watching as the hole swallows him.

You mewl. “What are you—”

“You liked this, didn’t you?” your roommate hums, licking his lips. He sounds eerily calm; focused.

A simple question that you can’t answer, not when he goes back to devouring you. The digit inside you doesn’t seem to remember it’s in there until it suddenly does and wiggles around experimentally until you give the proper reaction.

“Ko!” you wail, hands finding his hair and tugging as you lead the pace. He grunts at the burning of his scalp before trying to slip another finger in without pulling away. The stretch of a second digit makes you wince, what with his hands being larger than yours. Your roommate makes up for it by finally focusing on a specific task; his lips wrap around your clit, suckling on it as his tongue laps at the sensitive pearl. “Doing so good for me, Ko. Don’t stop, okay? Just curl your fingers a bit and—fuck….”

Obedient as ever, the duo-haired male adds more eagerness to his movements, if possible. Your hips continue to grind against his face, matching his rhythm in a sensual dance you’ve both swiftly learned the choreography for.

Your patience soon blesses you with an oncoming orgasm, one you can practically taste so long as the athlete between your legs maintains his actions. You barely manage to warn him of your high, your hold on him growing firm to stop him from ruining the set pace.

Bokuto groans deeply once more, and the vibrations that follow soon after are the last straw for you; hunching over your roommate’s frame, you drag a moan out from your throat as your jaw falls slack. Tremors spread throughout your body, tiny burning sparks from a roaring flame.

However long it drags on, you’re keeping your roommate down. He doesn’t complain (mainly because he can’t): whatever noises he manages to choke out answer in his stead, saying more than words ever could.

Heaven doesn’t last forever: you come down from the high while Bokuto’s lungs find fresh air. Not that he takes the time to breathe it in. Instead, he hastily sits up, pulling you by your shirt to slam his lips against yours. You’ve barely calmed down, and having to process his actions, as well as the sudden taste of yourself on your tongue, heightens your senses.

He hastily pulls away before you can do anything, clearly flustered.

“Sorry!” He’s babbling excuses, or at least, he’s trying to. You pull him back to shut him up, the kiss being far more gentle this time, barely a peck. It’s enough to silence him for a few seconds. “Thanks.”

What for, you don’t know: for the kiss, for helping him?

You smile at him regardless. Dismounting the bed with wobbly legs, you pick up your discarded clothes and put them back on.

“That was fun.” You feel and sound awkward. What you were worrying about before comes back to bite you in the ass, and all you can do is distract yourself by looking at anything but him. “With a bit more practice, you’ll be a master in no time.”

Even with your focus on your shorts, you can sense your roommate perking up at your words.

“So, you wanna do this again, then?” You’re so surprised by his question that you almost miss his hopeful tone and gaze. Your fingers subconsciously pick at the bedsheets.

“If you want?” you say, unaware of the corners of your lips twitching upwards. You never can say no to Bokuto, can you? A weakness of yours you don’t think you’ll ever overcome, but won’t stop asking why it continues to hold you back. Then he smiles, wide and shiny and all the way to his eyes; you forget he’s still naked from the waist down. That’s why you confidently smile back. “Help me with laundry for now, will ya?”

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