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Kotaro Bokuto - Blog Posts
Love Me Through the Phone (Bokuto x Reader) (NSFW)
*GIF not mine*
Summary: After Bokuto leaves for an away game on Valentine’s Day weekend, you’re left to handle the day’s pleasures all on your own. There’s just one little problem--nothing comes close to what Bokuto could give you. Luckily, he offers a solution, and though it’s completely out of your wheelhouse, you find yourself desperate enough to give in.
Warnings: smut, phone sex, mutual/guided masturbation, dirty talk, slight praise kink, slight dumbification, edging (if you squint), (gentle) dom!Bokuto
A/N: Happy belated Valentine’s Day! Here’s a lil gift from me to u that I’ve had stuck on my mind for a while. Yes, yes, I know, I ain’t great at writing smut, so if someone else wrote this prompt w/ Best Boi Bokuto™ uhh… *cough cough* sendittomeplsnthx. Enjoy!
Word count: 2731
“So… what are you wearing?”
“Jesus Christ,” you break off into a laugh, picking up the phone.
“Nah, nah, c’mon, I’m serious. We gotta start somewhere.”
Still shaking your head, you lean back on the bed once more, propped up on a few pillows but otherwise completely reclined. “Fine, fine, but anything else like that and I’m gonna have to leave you to your hand.”
“I promise, now c’mon. Tell me.”
“Seriously?”
“One-hundred percent.”
You purse your lips, debating a little. You can feel how much you want it--want him--and when you shift your hips, you can almost feel it soaking uncomfortably against your clothing. He’d texted you minutes ago with a proposition after learning of your predicament last night.
You’d wanted him so bad, but that alone wasn’t enough. Bokuto was off at an away game, and the distance--plus it being Valentine’s Day--only made things worse. You’d tried so hard, even trying to imagine his hand in your own’s place, even his tongue. It was just not enough.
Though, Bokuto didn’t seem to know how to handle the situation either.
“Fine, fine. I’m, uh, I’m wearing that little dress you like-”
“Yeah?”
“-and those silk panties you almost tore that one time.”
“Really?”
“Fuck no. It’s a Monday--I’m wearing sweats and a tank top, and I’m pretty sure there’s at least two rats making babies in my hair.”
“Well at least someone’s getting some.”
“Kou!”
“Sorry, YN!” Bokuto whines, his voice crackling through the line. “But come on! Take this seriously.” He pauses, silence flooding your room.
“Just… let me help you.”
Your thighs subconsciously clench at the tone. It’s so familiar it’s like they’re preparing to be spread apart.
The place between your thighs is soaked by now, far more stirred than you’re letting on. The fact that your voice is still steady surprises even you at this point.
“You’re right, you’re right. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be, baby. Just lay back for me, will you?”
“Okay.” Gnawing at your cheek, you make the choice to place Bokuto on speaker, setting him down just beside your shoulder so you can hear his every word. At this point, you’re on your back, head lain on a pillow and hands dancing along the strings of your sweats.
“Comfy?”
“Yeah.”
“Good.” There’s a few shuffles over the phone, and when Bokuto’s voice returns he sounds a little out of breath, a little strained. “Good. Okay.”
“Okay,” you nervously parrot, not really sure what else to do with yourself. Slowly, you’re beginning to gather that neither of you have done this before. Despite Bokuto sounding so confident earlier, he now seems reduced to the same anxious, aroused mess that you are.
“All right, now just…just follow my lead, okay?”
“Mhmm.”
“I want you to go slow, no matter what I tell you. Don’t speed up until I say.” His orders, simply the thought of their implications, leave your fingers twitching closer to your arousal. The need to touch yourself was beginning to leave a yearning that ran rampant through your veins. A single spark filled your stomach with heat.
“Okay.”
“Good,” he exhaled. “Now touch yourself.”
You almost choked on your spit. “Wh-uh, I mean,” your gaze traced along the ceiling frantically, desperately trying to distract yourself from the burning in your cheeks. “Like, where?”
Your question had slipped out without a second thought, and when Bokuto chuckled, the flush spread to your chest.
“Maybe you’re right,” he pondered. “Let’s go slower than that.” A huff, then his voice returned, excited. “All right, I got it. Think of me, all right?”
“Kou, I already tried that.”
“I know, baby, I know. But now you can actually hear me, and you don’t have to imagine a thing. Leave it to me.”
You were grateful he accepted your timid silence as approval.
“Okay, so… think of me touching you, right? Like I’m right there in front of you, baby, and I’m just running my hands all over you-”
“Kou?” you cut him off, blindly picking at your fingernails.
“What’s up? You wanna stop?”
“Can you touch yourself too?” And it’s when he falls silent that you realize how awkward that sounded. “Ah shit, I-I mean, like, I just kinda felt awkward doing it alone and like I felt like if you were doing it too I’d feel better about it and-”
“God, YN, you thought I wasn’t doing that already?”
“What?”
He scoffs, and shame begins to sour your anticipation.
“The second you said you were touching yourself to the thought of me, babe, I was at it. You seriously thought I was gonna sit here and just let you play with yourself while I’m over here just listening?”
“I mean, a little…”
“Shit, YN. I let you tie me up once and suddenly you think I like being blue-balled.”
“Well…”
“It was one time!”
“Whatever, Kou! Can we just…get back to what we were doing?”
“Fine, fine. But we’re discussing this later.”
“Okay, okay. Just get on with it, will you? Please, Kou, I…” you pause, body once more growing aware of the situation between your legs. “I need your help.”
“I know, babe.” Bokuto gulps, taking a second to relax himself once more. You’re busying yourself with fiddling with the bottom of your tank top now, tempted to just lift off the damned thing along with the rest of your clothes.
But you’re a little curious if Bokuto would mind that.
“All right, sweetheart. Like I said, follow my lead.”
You hum.
“I want you to imagine me there, right on top of you, baby. Think of how I’d push your shirt up, how I’d run my hands up your sides. Do that to yourself for me, will you, sweetheart?”
You listen and copy his words, running your hands underneath the cotton hem and brushing your fingertips along your hips, just as Bokuto had done so many times.
Well, it wasn’t perfect. But his voice certainly helped.
“Go up higher, baby. I want you to hold those pretty tits of yours.
“God, I can almost feel ‘em in my hands. So soft, always wanna keep my hands there. So fuckin’ pretty.”
“Kou…” You do as he asks, but it’s not enough. You want more, now.
“I know, I know. But remember, sweetheart, I said we’re taking things slow tonight.”
“But-”
“Now touch yourself. Imagine my hands playing with those cute little nipples of yours, baby. Make ‘em all tight and perky for me.” Hesitantly, you follow his lead. Your fingers draw circles, tug and caress like how you remember he would after long days. How his hands would yank off your shirt before palming and squeezing and stroking. Some days he was really mean, and your hips shifted at the thought of the dark marks he would leave scattered along your chest.
“Feel good?” His voice is breathless, and you’re a little uncertain of whether that means your soft moans had somehow passed through the phone line despite how much you’d suppressed them. Though, Bokuto did like you loud.
“So good,” you pant, hands still toying almost torturously. “But I want more, Kou, please.”
“Fuck, baby, I ever tell you how cute you are when you beg?”
“Kou…”
“Fine, fine. But you know I’d play with your pretty tits longer than that. From now on, let’s go at my pace.”
Fuck. You knew Bokuto had a pace, but when it came to nights like these, it was slower than you’d expect. Though most nights Bokuto jumped you and kept at it like a rabbit, there were just some days where he dragged things out, usually just to hear you beg for him. An ego boost, or whatever. Like he needed it.
“Slowly, sweetheart, bring your hands down to your thighs and spread ‘em, nice and gentle--you know how I’d peel ‘em apart.” He broke off into a grunt. “And t-then stroke the insides of your thighs, baby.”
“Kou?”
“What’s up?”
“Do,” you clench your jaw, telling yourself to get over the embarrassment by now. “-Do you want me to take my clothes off?”
“Fuck, you still have any on? Why?”
“Oh.” You took that as a cue to tear off your tank top and sweatpants, a little ashamed by the eagerness with which you did it. That feeling only grew when you squirmed out of your panties, catching a glimpse of the glistening stain left on them.
An idea hit you, and though you knew it would only make you flush more, you wanted to hear his reaction.
“Kou?”
“Are they off?”
“My panties are soaked.”
The reaction was instant.
“Jesus–fuck,” Bokuto hissed under his breath. You heard something akin to skin on skin as his cursing hitched, and a strangled groan filled your ears.
“Fucking tease,” he rasped when he finally seemed to stop himself from going too far. There was a tension in his voice that warned you he wanted revenge. “Put both hands on that wet little pussy, sweetheart. For that, I wanna hear it.”
Finally. The second your dominant hand made contact with your swollen clit, your hips jerked up without volition. “Sh-it.”
“Nu-uh, YN. Keep them there. Two inside, one on your clit. Nice and slow.”
It was hard to keep a steady, controlled pace. Your hips kept bucking, your back kept arching, and the two fingers Bokuto had ordered deep inside you weren’t reaching that little spot he seemed to have memorized like the back of his hand.
The lone index finger you kept circling your clit wasn’t doing your sanity any favors. The muscles of your thighs began to tremble in sheer desire of some actual force, a little muscle behind the action.
“YN,” Bokuto’s tone was low, warning. The second you’d sped up your hands to meet your needs, Bokuto could hear your closed-mouth whimpers growing higher.
“Kou, please.”
“Hands off, baby. Completely.”
“Wha…” you opened your mouth in protest, reluctantly pulling two soaked fingers out of your weeping hole and forcing your hand away from your clit.
“I told you to listen, baby. And now that’s all you get to do.”
“Kou, what-”
“Ahh, shit.” You slam your mouth shut, biting your lip at the delicious moans echoing through the phone. “Fuck, so good.”
Bokuto’s strained groans come quick and in between pants. You’re positive there’s a sheen of sweat covering his forehead now, his arm flexed and taut as he strokes himself.
“YN, baby. ‘F-Feels so good.”
“Kou,” you plead, gaze a little unfocused as you listen to his moans while forcing your hands to stay at your sides. You feel yourself twitching, clenching around nothing.
“Fuck, wish I was inside you right now.” Throaty moans now filter through the crackling line, so loud you wonder if the neighboring apartment can hear--not that they shouldn’t be used to it by now. “You’re always so fucking tight, sweetheart. Always so wet and tight on my cock.”
“Kou please, let me-”
“Hold on. Just a little more, baby--fffuck. Know you wanna touch yourself. Spread your legs for me, but don’t touch.”
You peel your knees apart once more, frustrated to no longer have any friction to work with. Your hips roll desperately, but it accomplishes nothing but making you more desperate. You can feel your arousal dripping down, now, soaking into the sheets.
“You remember before I left, sweetheart? Remember how I fucked your pretty little brains out? Never seen you like that before, so pretty and crying over how good my cock felt inside you.”
“Yes, Kou, yes! Please, just let me-”
“Said you couldn’t walk the next day. Said I fucked you so good you couldn’t feel your legs, baby. You feel ‘em now? All spread apart and just fucking shaking? If I fucked you right now, sweetheart, you think you could even think straight?”
“No, Kou, fuck I need you so bad.” You threw an arm over your eyes, the other digging into the sheets as you waited and waited for permission.
“You only got your fingers, and you can’t even use ‘em. All you got is me, the thought of me fucking into you, turning your pretty little brain into mush. Making you feel so good all you can do is cry. Baby, I still got those scratch marks on my back.”
“Kou-”
“Just a few more days, sweetheart, and I’ll have you making new ones. For now though, I suppose I could let you play with yourself.”
You almost cried out in relief, hands darting down to your aching, sopping hole, feeling as it drenched each fingertip with ease.
“Three fingers inside. I know you can take it. Pretend it’s me warming you up for my cock, baby, stretching you out and having you dripping all over my fucking hand.”
He’s right, it is a stretch, and you almost whimper when you press your fingers up and against the little pleasure center deep inside you, fingertips just barely brushing.
“Your little clit hurts so good, doesn’t it, baby? You’re being so mean to it aren’t you, rubbing hard circles into it.”
He pauses, breaking off into a drawn-out groan of your name.
“I don’t care. Go faster.”
And you do, and he’s right, and you just can’t bring yourself to care as you press harsh patterns into your clit, struggling to pump your fingers at the same time without losing pace completely and frustrating yourself.
“That’s it. Say my name, baby. Scream my name while you play with yourself. Couldn’t do that by yourself, could you?”
“Kou--fuck!” You clench your eyes shut, arching your back harder as you speed up your desperate ministrations. Heat gathers at your clit from the friction, and your slick is practically gushing now, loud and pornographic.
Bokuto certainly got what he wished--there was no way he couldn’t hear how wet you were.
“You can only touch yourself with my help, can’t you? So fucking good to me, baby. So pretty playing with your tight little hole like that. Dirty little thing.”
“God, fffuck,” you whimper, back arching when your gushing finally reaches its peak.
“You coming?”
“Y-es!”
“I wanna hear who made you feel this good. Who made you play with your own little pussy so good, baby?”
“Kou! Yes, Kou!”
“Good girl. Good fucking girl.” Bokuto moans one last time, loud and guttural, and the slick of your fingers brushing and kneading your clit becomes too much. Your legs, spread wide and strained, shake with the effort as your back arches against the pillows behind you, head tossed back and mouth open in a silent gasp.
Bokuto soothes you on your way down, small “I love yous” and “so good for mes” traveling over the line. When your body finally stops twitching, you lean over and snag your phone, turning it off speaker and pressing it to your ear.
“Thank you, Kou,” you hum softly, lethargic and exhausted. “That was so much better than last night’s shit show.”
“I’m so relieved, baby.” He pauses, humming. “And glad to know you can’t seem to come without me.”
“Yeah, well, good thing you’re coming back soon. This was good, but…” You sit up, staring at his side of the bed, a little unkempt from you rolling over to it in your sleep night after night. “I wish you were here.”
“I know, baby. I wish you were with me too.”
“It’s so lonely without you.”
“I know. I miss you.”
“Plus I finally found out where you hid those handcuffs after that night.”
“Goddamnit, YN, just throw those fucking things out! I’m not getting blue-balled again!”
If It Ain’t Broke (Bokuto x Reader)
*GIF not mine*
Summary: You broke up with Bokuto for a good reason. At least, what you thought was a good reason. But right now you can’t help but miss him terribly, and according to Akaashi, he’s feeling the exact same. But did you really break him like his friend said?
A/N: Did y’all know Bokuto is 6’1”? God, he’s a fucking dreamboat. How some people don’t like his beefy ass, I will never know. I’m just gonna warn y’all now, this is only well-written bc I had my cat by my side literally the whole time I wrote this. He’s given off fuckin’ good-writing vibes, I swear. Anyways, hope y’all enjoy!
Word count: 2299
“Fix him.” You flinch as a palm slams down on your desk, crumpling your assignment. Unimpressed, you raise a brow.
“Excuse me?” With a glance --- Akaashi --- you huff and turn to face the intruder.
“Fix him. You broke him.”
“Broke who?”
“Bokuto!” Your classmate’s sudden outburst is unlike his usual, aloof self as he throws his hands in the air. “I can’t remember the last time he hit one of my sets after you talked to him.”
“Maybe that’s not my problem,” you snicker.
“Oh hardy har har.” He rolls his eyes before lowering himself to your level. “Just fix him. We have a game coming up and our team can’t handle another depressed Bokuto phase. We almost lost the last one because of him.”
You wanted to make another snide comment, but you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. After breaking up with your owl-haired boyfriend, every sighting of him, even the mention of his name pained your heart. One time, you had spotted him at the same time he noticed you in the hall and he only whimpered before sprinting in the opposite direction. Most of the time, you regretted ending things, but you had to respect your own feelings. Although maybe, just maybe this once you could do the boys’ volleyball team a solid.
“Fine,” you avoided his gaze and fiddled with your hands. “I’ll talk to him. But don’t expect it to make everything all sunshine and rainbows afterwards!”
“C’mon YN,” he smirks at you, “we both know that’ll be inevitable.”
That smug bastard was always right.
~~~
You attended their practice that night, attempting to sit in the corner discreetly but that plan didn’t pan out. The second Bokuto walked through the gym doors it was like he caught a whiff of your scent. Some kind of animal instincts inside of him awakened as his eyes darted around the room, quickly spotting you with your legs splayed out as you tapped away on your phone against the wall. Not a sound of acknowledgement was made, but the impact of your presence was instantaneous.
Like a true captain, he took charge of his team right off the bat, even though practice wouldn’t start for another twenty minutes.
“Time for stretching, boys!”
“Bokuto, nobody’s dressed yet.”
“Then hurry up!”
Every jump was a tad higher, every spike a tad harder, and near the middle of practice Akaashi gave you a pointed look.
‘I told you so,’ he mouthed while dodging a stray volleyball of Bokuto’s. Your middle finger was raring to go, but you held back with much personal restraint. There was no way your ex was this pumped only at the sight of you- oh wait, this is Bokuto. Nevermind.
“Akaashi, set me up one more time!” The ace’s eyes strayed to you for a split second before he ran up and jumped, rearing back and spiking the ball so intensely you shivered at the sound. How did it not pop after that? It was his hardest hit yet, and a miniscule ounce of pride warmed your chest when Bokuto turned and grinned at you.
“Hey, hey, hey!” he fist-pumped, returning his attention to his team. For the last thirty minutes of practice, they decided to work on serves, and the outcome was just the same.
The hair on the back of your neck raised as you watched his bulky form take a couple purposeful steps before smack! The ball whistled through the air and landed perfectly in the corner of the court, blasting the water bottle away like a rocket into a forgotten area of the gym. His signature shout was interrupted by a sudden voice by your side.
“He hasn’t been like this in weeks,” Akaashi squatted next to you, taking a sip from his water. “I don’t understand how you got him so hyped up, but I’m glad.” He glances away from the court and watches your face from the corner of his eye, flashing you a small smile. “I’m glad you came today. We needed this.”
“I just came to watch, nothing more.”
“We both know that’s a lie.” He quirks a brow at your slightly flushed face. “Just talk to him this time, okay? He’s not-”
“Akaashi!” Bokuto orders from the far benches, “Come set for me again!” His voice is more demanding than usual, and his eyes burn with jealousy. The setter only chuckles under his breath at the sight of the green-eyed monster, and stands to face him.
“I will,” you grab his hand to halt him and stare into his eyes, nodding with certainty, “I promise. I’ll talk to him.”
“AKAASHI!” You both jump at the abrupt, irritable shout. Frantically, the setter nods back at you and wriggles his hand out of your grasp before jogging away, visibly shaken. With a gulp, you dare to peek over at the court, only to nervously shift on the floor after making eye contact with Bokuto. His orbs, normally yellow and glowing with excitement, are dark and pouring with envy. Pursing your lips, you can’t help but slump a little lower against the gym wall, hesitantly trying to hide yourself from the palpable heat that rolls off him in waves.
~~~
Practice ended quicker and louder than you imagined. Everything the ball made contact with-- Bokuto’s hand, the floor, that one door that flew open after impact-- it all created a sound that boomed and echoed around the room. Akaashi decided to call it quits after the door almost blew off its hinges.
Bokuto silently picked up stray volleyballs and loaded them up in the basket before wheeling them into the storage room. It was around this time that the co-captain of the team gave you the signal. With about four or five frenzied head nods towards the private closet, you finally caught his drift and made your way over.
The stench of sweat made you nauseous, but you powered through as you walked nearer to the boys, ignoring how their chatter had subsided when you shuffled past them.
The room was dark and dusty, with the only light coming from the outside. Bokuto perked up at the sound of your tennis shoes squeaking against the mopped floor. He parks the bucket of balls in an unlit corner next to some brooms before facing you.
“You came today. I was surprised.” His voice is wobbly and uncertain, and you’re shocked to finally notice just how ruffled he appeared. The normally wild hair atop his head sat in drooping grey and black tufts, and there were dark circles under his eyes. He flashes a small smile at you, but it’s forced and trembling. He was coming off the high of you watching him practice just like the old days, and he’s regretablly remembering that the old days have passed. You broke up with him.
“Yeah, I did.” You sway back and forth on your feet while twiddling your thumbs. Pursing your lips, you take a hesitant step closer and say, “I thought you did great, by the way.”
The life returns to his eyes for a split second, but it disappears just as fast. “Thank you,” he mumbles. The room returns to a deafening silence, and you bite the inside of your cheek to pass the time.
“Why,” he pipes up once more, killing the quiet. “Why did we have to break up again?” His arms hang limply at his sides while his feet scuff the floor. He didn’t dare to look you in the eyes at the moment, and you understood the feeling. The atmosphere was tense and choked up, like a glass teetering precariously on the edge of a table. One wrong move and everything would shatter.
“Because,” you force out, breathing shakily, “you just… you just never had enough time for me.”
“But I do now!” The cup falls. Everything breaks.
“Do you?” you whimper, pressing a hand against your lips to contain a sob. He steps closer instinctively, eyes watering at the sight of your walls collapsing.
“I do, I swear!” His rough hands grab your shoulders and yank you closer. His golden orbs search your face one, two, three times before he leans closer. “I promise, YN! Please, I promise!” His strong fingers trail down and grasp your wrists, tugging you into his chest while he pulls your arms around his back, free of their own volition. You don’t deny his needs and melt into the embrace, shedding a few stray tears into his shirt which you clutch tightly.
“I promise,” he whispers once more into your hair, wrapping his own muscular arms around your shaky form. “I don’t want to be without you ever again.” His voice trembles against your ear, and you begin to notice just how much your body missed his own. You fit perfectly against his chest, and his warmth makes you feel just right. Your heart races in a good way, and the pit of your stomach fills with a joy only he can provide effortlessly. You were made for each other, and you were perfect for each other.
Oh shit… you were perfect for each other.
“Okay,” you whisper, nodding into his shirt. “Okay, let’s give it another shot.” The reaction is instantaneous.
“Hey, hey, hey!” he whoops victoriously into your ear, hugging just tight enough that the only sound you can muster is a wheeze. You hang on for dear life when he lifts you up and spins you around while cheering even louder.
The atmosphere of the room grows ten times softer and brighter thanks to his beaming, and his hands trail down to the backs of your thighs and tap twice. You understand and hop with complete faith that he will catch you, and you will continue to do that until he drops you one day, which is highly unlikely. In a seasoned fashion, you wrap your legs around his waist and wind your arms around his neck for stability. He settles his hands under the tips of your thighs and stares up at you like you’re the light of his life. You wouldn’t mind if he kept doing that forever.
“I missed you so much,” he admits, completely unashamed. You can’t contain your smile, even though your cheeks are a bit puffy from your breakdown earlier, and your eyes crease at the corners.
“I missed you too.”
“I won’t leave you alone ever again. I swear!” You giggle and run your hands behind his neck and into his nape, just barely brushing through his hair.
“Okay,” you nod happily and stroke his peppered tufts. “I’ll hold you to that.”
~~~
A body crashes into the desk next to yours, but you don’t pay it any mind.
“Whatcha doin’?” The voice is playful and overjoyed, ecstatic even.
“Homework.” Your response is the opposite.
“Awesome!” Bokuto cheers, grabbing the attention of the rest of the class. While you palm your face, he loudly scooches his chair closer, ignorant to the noisy squeaks it causes. The racket finally stops when he deems himself an appropriate distance from you, which just so happens to be a roomy six inches. The only thing more palpable than his presence is the warm breaths hitting your neck.
“It’s homework.”
“I know, but you’re doing it, so it must be amazing!” You didn’t know whether to smack him silly or kiss his lips off. Neither idea seemed more desirable at the moment.
He’s practically bouncing in his seat beside you while his head plops down onto your shoulder.
“I think x equals six,” he points down on your paper, chin bobbing on your collarbone with every syllable.
“X equals two.”
“Oh.”
His grin doesn’t falter even once while he basks in your less-than-satisfied presence. You’re about to blow your top, and you just can’t take it any longer.
“What are you doing here, Koutarou?”
“I’m spending more time with you like you wanted!” You sigh exasperatedly and glance up at the ceiling.
“Kou, I meant more like after-school stuff! This,” you turn in your seat and gesture to him, “you sneaking into my class to visit while my teacher’s in the bathroom?” You shake your head. “It’s a bit excessive.”
He throws you a whiny pout at puppy dog eyes.
“But I wanted to see you!” Your hardened exterior cracks just a bit. God, he was an irresistible, beefy pain in the ass. With a huff, you cup his cheeks and peer into his sparkling eyes.
“I know,” you smile reassuringly, “I wanted to see you too. But you need to go back before-”
“Bokuto!” Your teacher stands in the doorway with folded arms and a tapping shoe. “Please return to your classroom right now!” Your boyfriend chuckles at the sight and spins up out of his seat.
“Oops, gotta go babe!” He presses a swift kiss to your lips that rattles your brain and widens your eyes. With a breathless gasp, you watch as he dashes out of the room with a cheeky grin, waving excitedly on the way.
“At least he’s fixed now.” Akaashi reclaims his chair and sits at his desk beside yours, observing as the class door closes with a slam. The teacher shakes his head and rubs his temples while returning to the front of the class, shuffling a stack of papers.
You, on the other hand, are still in a daze, slowly running your fingers over your lips to revel in the lasting tingles. Then you break out into a smile.
“Yeah. He’s fixed now.”
Cock Block (Bokuto x Reader)
*GIF not mine*
Summary: Bokuto just wants to get some, but the universe is not always on his side.
A/N: I’m kinda loving this one. I guess you could call this nsfw, but like, I don’t write what happens. It’s more like a build-up. Anyways, thank you guys once again for all the support recently, and I hope y’all enjoy this oneshot too! (Bokuto’s too hot to be kept sfw, everybody knows it.)
Word count: 1469
The entire world seemed to be up against Bokuto’s libido. Certain times of the month, dishes, hell, even movies. Every time he wanted some, you were just a little preoccupied.
“Babe,” he breathes heavily against your neck before pressing a kiss there, “God, I missed you so much.”
“Kou…”
“I wish we never had to leave for games. Fuck,” he grumbles against you, pulling your body closer on the mattress. Although you don’t want to, you figure it’s better to warn him now than later.
“Koutarou- oh shit!” You whimper when he bites that special place just below your ear that drives you crazy. Albeit unwillingly, you place your hands on his broad shoulders and push him away.
“Kou!” He pulls back with a pained look in his eyes and your chest tightens at the sight.
“Are you okay? Did I hurt you?!” Even though you’re only two inches away, he’s practically shouting in your face. You flinch when a spit particle almost blinds you, and you slap a palm over his mouth to prevent this from happening again while you indignantly wipe away the previous offender. The small action pisses you off almost instantly, and you can only blame the hormones.
“I’m okay, you didn’t do anything wrong,” you reassure him with a forced smile. He nods with disbelieving eyes and you drop your hand.
“Then why-”
“I’m on my period.” His face falls and he groans while tucking his head into your chest. Instinctively, you run your fingers through his hair while he whines like a child, gripping your shirt tightly.
“You’ve gotta be kidding me!”
~~~
He hadn’t texted you back for three hours. It was a Saturday, and you knew for a fact that he didn’t have volleyball practice or anything else to take up his time, and yet he hadn’t responded to you for what felt like a millenia. Anger rolls off you in waves as you relax on your couch, watching TV and glancing at your dark phone every two seconds.
The door creaks open behind you. “YN? Are you here?”
“Yes,” you hiss with a sneer, eyes still locked on the dull movie. Bokuto doesn’t notice your tone as he struts over to you with a smirk.
“Do you wanna do anything fun tonight?” He waggles his eyebrows and you almost snort at his lack of wooing skills. If only you had known he sucked at flirting before you had first confessed your feelings to him. It would have been a lot less surprising to receive the text “Are you a volleyball? Because I’d love to call you mine” after your first date.
“No.” Bokuto rolls over the back of the couch and lands directly on your form, heavy muscles and all. While you grunt in pain, he bounces excitedly on top of you and asks again.
“Are you sure you don’t wanna do anything fun tonight?” He bonks his forehead against yours eagerly, causing you to blink in surprise. Every single one of his playful actions contrasts the heat swimming around in his golden eyes. You take a moment to rebuild your resistance before you respond.
“Well, I did three hours ago, but now I’m not in the mood.” Your teeth gnash together when his face darkens with realization.
“Oh crap.”
“Yeah.” With a glare, you worm your way out from under him and disappear into your room, slamming the door shut behind you. Maybe it was an overreaction, but you cut yourself a little slack. Your cramps were being a bitch, and you wanted nothing more than for your boyfriend to cuddle you a few hours ago. Now, here he was asking for the same thing as though you hadn’t said a word. So, was it an overreaction? Maybe, but you were allowed to be pissed in moments like these.
“YN, I’m so sorry! I totally forgot!”
“Mhm, sure.”
His footsteps grow closer to your door and it opens just a crack. His black and white head peeks in and his pupils dart around before locating you seething on your bed. With a nervous quirk of his lips, he hesitantly mumbles, “Does this mean you’re still on your period?”
You chuck a pillow at him.
~~~
It only took about thirty minutes for you two to make up, but every day since then, you just couldn’t find the time to… you know. One day, you were completely exhausted. Bokuto had come home from practice and jumped you, nuzzling against your face before the act grew more intimate.
“Can we do it?” His warm breath brushes across your chest while he stares up at you desperately.
“Yes,” you mumble with drooping eyes. Meanwhile, Bokuto grins against your skin. “Only if you take a shower first.” He gasps dramatically before taking a whiff of his pit.
“Oh, come on! It’s not that bad!” You shake your head and point to the hallway. Reluctantly, he scrambles off you with a pout and trudges towards the door, only for you to speak up with another request.
“Could you do the dishes on your way? Thanks!” You disguise a yawn behind your hands while he whines dramatically, stomping into the kitchen and noisily clanging pots and pans together while he scrubs at them like they ruined his love life.
After taking the fastest shower in the West, Bokuto hurriedly dries off and sprints to the bedroom.
“YN, I’M-” he freezes at the sight of you, completely knocked out and drooling from the corner of your mouth. “...ready.” A heavy sigh escapes the ace before he tiptoes over and smiles down at you.
“You should’ve told me you were tired,” he whispers lovingly, grabbing the edges of a blanket and draping it over your sleeping form. Slowly, he leans down and presses a small kiss to your cheek. “Sweet dreams, baby.”
~~~
Today was the day, and nothing would stop him.
“YN!” The door slams closed behind him with a loud wham and he locks it haphazardly. “TODAY IS THE DAY WE- oh no! What’s wrong?” A line appeared between his brows as he took in the sight of you surrounded by tissues and sniffling on the sofa.
“He just,” your voice wobbles, “snapped his fingers and sacrificed himself for everybody.” You hug your knees closer to your chest and weep silently. For a moment, Bokuto stands star-struck, but your movements causes him to jump into action. In a split second, he grabs a tub of ice cream, a fresh box of tissues- you ran out- and your favorite soft blanket which he drops on top of you before clicking off the TV.
“It’s okay,” he murmurs softly, easily tugging you onto his lap. All you needed was a little love and comfort, and by God if he wasn’t willing to provide it for you.
After a few minutes, your tears begin to slow, and Bokuto decides to mess with you just a tad. “I love you three-thousand,” he mumbles teasingly into your shoulder. The words rile you up all over again.
“SHUT UP!” you wail.
~~~
Okay. Today was the day. Outside the apartment’s window, it rained so romantically it was like the clouds were rooting for him. The lights were off, so he lit a couple scented candles, those vanilla ones you like so much, and he even splayed rose petals over the bed sheets like in the cheesy love scenes. Nothing, nothing, was going to cockblock him tonight. When his ears perked at the jingle of keys outside the door, he knew it was go-time. Cologne, check. Freshly washed hair, check. No shirt, check.
“Hey Bokuto, I brought home…” you trailed off at the sight of your bare-chested boyfriend silently leering at you in the middle of the living room. Well, his methods of courting you have always been rather weird. Quickly, you close your jaw and let out a snicker.
“Is tonight the night?”
“Yep.” You nod with an impressed smirk, questioningly sniffing the air.
“Is that my…?”
“Yep.” He takes a step closer to you and you set your groceries on the counter.
“All right, just let me-”
“Nope.” You let out a squeak as he lifts you up and over his shoulder, smacking your ass for good measure. “Now or never.” He hauls you over to the bedroom and kicks open the door. Meanwhile you’re tracing distracting patterns on his toned, nude back before you let out a small huff.
“Oh crap, wait, I forgot! Can I have a little rain check because-”
“No.”
A Hairy Situation (Bokuto x Reader/Soulmate AU)
*GIF not mine*
Summary: Back home in America, YN was free to dye her hair whatever color she pleased. But now that she’s transferred to Japan as a foreign exchange student, she realizes that she’s much closer to her soulmate than she used to be... hence why her hair looks like an explosion of black and gray. What an asshole.
Author’s note: Haikyuu!! Bokuto x reader soulmate au. This one was also written at 3 am...and then deleted, so now I’m pissed. This is better than my first fanfic tho... I think, so enjoy!
Word count: 3775
When the new girl stepped into Karasuno, all eyes were on her. One, because she was new, duh. Two, because she was an American transfer student nobody expected to arrive. Three, because her hair looked like an explosion in an old-school, black-and-white film. As soon as people noticed this unavoidable characteristic, they pitied her.
“Her soulmate is such an asshole,” the students whispered amongst themselves. After all, who would want owl-like hair on the top of their head, aside from a sadistic jerk.
Here is a little known biology fact about soulmates in this world: females hold the recessive gene for hair. If two female soulmates got together, their hair colors would blend. If two males got together, their hair would be an equally-expressed mixture. Finally, when a female and a male soulmate are in close enough proximity to each other, as like all soul matches, the female’s initial hair color retreats to make room for the male’s hair color. That’s just simple human-soulmate genetics, existing in the world since the dawn of time.
Everyone knew the girl must not have been the cause for her hair color for one simple reason: she looked absolutely miserable. Her hands were white-knuckled around the straps of her school bag, and her shoes squeaked as she pathetically dragged her feet along the floor. She decided to keep her head down, and because of this, no one had noticed how she was fuming. With clenched teeth and burning, E/C eyes, the girl resisted the urge to throw a string of curses every glimpse she caught of her hair. Wait no, not of her hair, of her soulmate’s hair.
Unfurling the crumpled schedule in her hand, YN finally looked up to search for her classroom, resisting a sneer when her fellow pupils at last saw how pissed she truly was. Rushing into her homeroom, she met with the teacher, took her seat, and buried her striking head into her folded arms, hoping and praying to the heavens for the power of invisibility.
***
It was a known fact that when a soulmate pair was heterosexual, the female, try all she might, would never control the hair color of her other half. No dyes, no matter how strong, could erase the evidence of true-love proximity. Way early on, scientists had done the math and discovered that soulmate hair color would show when the two individuals were, at most, 250 miles away from each other.
With this idea, YN figured that her destined male companion must be in Japan, but she had no idea where. Back in the United States, she was free to dye her hair any color of her choosing, but had stuck with H/C on her flight to the Miyagi Prefecture. However, after getting off the plane and taking a much needed bathroom break, she had almost cried in despair when she saw her peppered strands. Now, she figured she could tell the future, as in that bathroom she had guessed the exact nickname the current bullies in Karasuno had just called her: Salt and Pepper.
At first, she had despised it, but after hearing it twenty times in a row during her lunch break, it began to grow on her. Much like her hair color. She realized that it wasn’t half-bad, and that the nicknames would simply be the worst thing to come from it. YN had passed all the stages of grief and had finally moved on to acceptance, as she realized it was out of her control. She would, however, explode on her soulmate once she finally met him. The amount of an ass-kicking he would receive would lead to him begging her to stop so he could go buy hair dye immediately.
YN was practically drooling at the idea of saving her reputation and getting to kick someone’s ass all in the same day, but she was shaken out of this dream by a jumpy ginger and his stoic, blue-eyed companion. She had been walking down the halls, planning to return to her class after lunch hour, only to be halted by their indiscreet whisper-conversation as they passed.
“Kageyama, doesn’t her hair remind you of Bokuto? That amazing ace from Fukurodani?”
The short redhead poked his companion in the side, only to receive a smack to the back of the head as the other calmly stated, “I guess so. We are pretty close to Tokyo now that I think about it.”
YN whirled around on her heels and caught up with the pair while exclaiming, “Hey, you guys know my soulmate? Where is he?”
The taller one, Kageyama she assumed, stayed impassive even as a small blush grew on his face before he stated, “We don’t know for sure, but it could be this guy we know from Fukurodani Academy.”
The shorter one added, “We’ve played him in volleyball, and he’s amazing! Their team is actually travelling down here tomorrow for a practice game! You should come.”
“Oh, I definitely will. Sounds fun.” YN’s eyes flared at the idea of meeting her soulmate, if only to tell him off, and the heat that exuded from her stare caused the two boys to shy away slightly. Hinata, she learned, told her the time and place of their volleyball match tomorrow, to which she thanked him with mischievous eyes before strutting away, mentally preparing for the inevitable beat-down the next day.
***
Volleyball, YN decided, is actually pretty entertaining to watch, but their practice is boring as hell. It looks so much more fun to play, YN thought to herself, biting her lip in excitement. Her nerves were aflame with anticipation, and she would finally get to meet her soulmate. The rousing idea of possibly encountering him for the first time almost distracted her of her main goal. Almost.
However, this fact didn’t matter. YN would never forget the first night of her arrival in Japan, standing in the bathroom of her host family and glaring at herself in the mirror. Well, not herself, but her hair. Every clump of black interspersed with light gray had increased her resentment of him. She didn’t want to hate him. This was revealed when she suddenly began tearing up while looking at herself.
YN wanted to believe he was just a fun guy who joked around and enjoyed others’ attention, but she knew differently. The world was cruel, and the odds were stacked against her, and from that night on, the young girl began to buy into the idea that others were selling her.
“My soulmate is such an asshole,” she had whispered to herself in the mirror before crumpling to a miserable ball on the floor.
YN was stuck in a foreign country with no friends and no family, surrounded only by strangers she rarely understood without thinking very hard, who accused her soulmate of being cruel and pitied her because of that supposed fact. Now, as she watched Karasuno’s boy’s volleyball team practice for today’s game, she couldn’t help her mind wandering back to what Hinata had told her.
“He’s amazing! And super nice too! He taught me this move where my arm prepares to go ‘Bam!’ but then it slows down to make the ball go ‘Fwoosh!’ I can’t wait for you to see…” The ginger’s voice faded away as YN recalled the memory of his rambling and complementing of her soulmate.
Maybe he won’t be so bad, YN thought to herself, but was startled out of her daze when the doors of Karasuno’s first gym burst open with a loud “Hey! Hey! Hey!”
A smile grew on her face at the sound of the amusing voice, and YN was surprised by her involuntary actions, but decided to let her grin stay when she saw who spoke. It was her soulmate, salt-and-peppered hair and all.
***
“Been a long time, Tsukki boy!” Bokuto shouted as he clapped his blond friend on the back.
Tsukishima scrambled to catch his glasses as they popped off his face, recovering them and haughtily pushing them back up his nose with a strong finger while declaring, “It’s only been like two weeks, and you need to quiet down, you’re giving me a headache already. I won’t make it through the game if you keep this up.” Halfway into Tsukishima’s rant, the blond had been instantly forgotten when Hinata raced over to Bokuto, jumping up and down in front of the third year while excitedly chatting with him.
“Hey, Bokuto, I’ve been working on the move you taught me! It works great, I can’t wait to kick your ass with it!” the carrot-top enthusiastically bragged.
The owl-haired ace chuckled boisterously in return, ruffling the ginger’s hair while playfully responding, “Alright little man, show me what you got.”
Rolling his eyes, Akaashi proceeded to drag Bokuto away from Karasuno’s first years, warning the older that he wouldn’t get any sets if he didn’t start practicing. The ace took the slight to heart and scrambled over to Fukurodani’s side of the net, grumbling under his breath about how mean his setter was.
As the game commenced, Fukurodani’s captain could not resist his eyes straying to the stands, feeling as though something was calling to him from there, begging him to take just one glance.
Directly above Karasuno’s “Fly” banner stood a girl. Not just any girl, but a girl with black and white hair. When Bokuto spotted her, his smile grew larger than the universe itself, and he waved at her frantically after she made eye contact. The girl’s face grew a few shades shy of a tomato, and she softly smiled, giving him a small wave back.
Returning his attention to the game, Bokuto knew not only would he not lose, but he would also scrub the floor with these guys, no matter how friendly he had been before. After all, his soulmate was watching, and he would do everything he could to keep her gorgeous gaze on himself.
***
“What the hell was that idiot thinking, waving at me in the middle of the game. He’s gonna get one right to the face, I just know it. What a cocky bastard,” YN rambled to herself, covering her warm cheeks with her cold hands. No matter what she did though, the burn stayed, and the smile that was hurting her cheeks was probably definitely part of the problem.
Her eyes never strayed from his form for a second during the first set, and the only word she could think of to define her soulmate was hella “Thick.” He was a good thick, hell, a great thick. The best thick in the whole, goddamned, world- okay what. What is wrong with me, she thought to herself, shaking her head as if to erase her previous musings. YN was taken out of her mental cleansing when she heard a whistle blow. The telltale end of the game’s first set. Immediately, the girl’s first instinct was to look for him, Bokuto, but she instead, for whatever reason, decided to duck out of the stands and go to the bathroom.
“What is wrong with me?” YN repeated to herself as she observed her red cheeks in the mirror. After all that time, the pink hues hadn’t slightened even the tiniest bit, but YN was more confused as to why she was okay with that fact. That she almost wanted her soulmate to see how shy he made her feel, how nervous she was around him.
Maybe it was because he seemed so nice, and to make up for how she had assumed he would be rude, she allowed him to see her blushing like a sprinter after a marathon. Maybe it was that, just maybe yes. Either way, YN knew she would have to leave the bathroom sometime, and she didn’t want to miss the rest of the game.
***
Fukurodani had won the first set; not by a landslide as Bokuto had hoped, but only by two points, finally earned after a long rally. But a victory was a victory, no matter how small, and when Bokuto stepped off the court with an over-eager fist pump and multiple high fives from his teammates, his eyes first traveled to the stands.
After scrutinizing every inch of the gym’s upper level, he still couldn’t find her. Maybe he had scared her off? Was the waving too much? No way, with the way she blushed but smiled and waved back anyways, Bokuto knew she was ready to stay in for the long run.
Sadly, no matter how much or how long the ace assured himself of his soulmate’s feelings, he felt doubt creep in the longer she was absent from the stands. What if she thinks she can run onto the court and greet me after hearing those whistles? That would be so cute, but she would probably be reprimanded for it though. But it would be worth it, right? God, I hope she does that…. The owl-haired captain continued to ramble to himself mentally as the rest of his team kept their heads in the game, discussing how to defeat Karasuno in the next set.
“Washio, I know their number ten is fast, so I need you to keep following him whenever you see him make a move. The others up front will… Bokuto? Are you listening?” Akaashi trailed off while watching his captain glare at the stands and mutter under his breath.
Hesitantly, the setter placed his hand on the third year’s shoulder, only to have Bokuto quickly swivel back around and irritably snap, “I’m fine, let’s just keep playing.” Shaking off Akaashi’s grip, the ace marched back onto the court, ready to land twenty-five service aces in a row, just to show his soulmate what she was totally missing! Behind Bokuto, the rest of his teammates sighed and rolled their eyes.
Sarukui watched Bokuto before saying, “Okay, I know it’s happened before, but isn’t it, like, a little too early for this? I don’t think it’s ever happened this quick.”
Akaashi shakes his head and flatly responds, “I don’t know, he seemed a little distracted even during the first set. And remember when he waved to that girl in the crowd? I don’t see her here anymore, so that might be part of it. Either way, let’s just play without him and hope he’s able to get back into his groove even if she doesn’t return.”
The rest of the team nods in agreement and jogs back toward the court, avoiding the tempermatic captain preparing to serve. Akaashi stays back and glances at his coaches, only to receive a questioning look as they gesture to Bokuto. The setter only responds with a shrug of his shoulders before hustling back onto the court. All we can do now is hope for the best, Akaashi thinks.
***
When YN returns to her place behind the banner with cooler cheeks, her eyes are immediately drawn to her soulmate. He seems to be getting ready to serve, but he won’t even look up at her. YN knows he must feel bad after she disappeared, and wonders how to make up for her actions without embarrassing herself, knowing she would need a little reassurance too if she was in his position.
The owl-haired ace is fuming on the court, and suddenly YN wonders how volatile her soulmate truly is. As Bokuto throws up the ball, preparing for a jump serve, YN flinches at how loud the sound of impact is, and watches as the ball flies over the net, crashing hard into the wall directly behind Karasuno. The two defenders in the home team’s back row do not even get a chance to watch the ball as it flies past them with horrendous speed, and their eyes go wide in...surprise? Or fear? Maybe both.
After the scene, Bokuto falls to his knees dramatically and releases a loud groan, shaking his head in his hands. “Damn it, I’m so stupid! What have I done?!”
YN glances nervously at the slight dent in the wood paneling of the wall and wonders if he’ll have to pay for damage. “Crap,” she whispers to herself, knowing what she has to do.
***
Akaashi has been there for many of Bokuto’s mood swings, and he’s seen it all.
Well, apparently not until now. From his own red handprints left on his cheeks to stomping around like a five-year-old, Akaashi knows about Bokuto’s temper like bees know about honey. It’s obvious, he’s been around it a lot, and he knows what to expect… or, at least he used to know.
Now, it’s like undiscovered territory, and Akaashi is wary of stepping on any landmine that might just cause his friend to explode.
With an outstretched hand, Akaashi wonders whether he should approach Bokuto or not, but before he can decide, the doors to the gym burst open.
Kageyama and Hinata observe silently as YN rushes past them, ducking under the volleyball net and beelining it towards Bokuto, her black and white hair flowing in the air from her speed. Nobody makes a noise to protest or warn her as she approaches him, slowing down in close enough proximity for him to feel her presence. Ever so dejectedly, the ace of Fukurodani raises his head to look at her, before blasting up to his feet and embracing her in a tight hug.
“I’m so sorry for scaring you away. Please don’t reject me, I don’t think I could handle it.” Bokuto’s voice wavers slightly as he clings to her even harder, his head tucked into her shoulder. YN wonders if he’ll start crying, but shakes off the thought and slowly twists out of his grip. At first, he hugs her even tighter, then he slowly, begrudgingly listens and peels away from her body. Bokuto tries to step away dejectedly, only for YN to grasp his hand and lead him out of the gym, ignoring the many pairs of eyes watching.
Before shutting the door, YN looks at both teams and politely smiles. “Continue.”
Watching the pair of soulmates disappear behind the exit, Akaashi closes his dropped jaw and shares an incredulous look with the people around him, shaking his head before shrugging his shoulders once more.
“May as well.”
***
Bokuto’s eyes glow as YN watches the door close before embracing him in a warm bear hug.
“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry I screwed up your game, and I distracted you and I just left before saying anything. But to be honest, I was just, I don’t know, kind of scared.” Her voice is muffled in his shoulder, and she keeps hugging him tighter and tighter until he feels like he can’t breath, and he doesn’t mind.
Actually, as a matter of fact, he’s reveling in it. This feeling, the feeling of someone absolutely needing him to know that they care for him, and that they were sorry for his game going awry, it makes him giddy.
Bokuto has decided he also likes breathing though, and pats her back in an effort to get her to unclench. Just a little, because when she starts to pull back too much, he roughly tugs her back in, and the breath of fresh air her lungs had just received is too-quickly released back to the atmosphere.
“It’s okay,” he grins against her, “I’m just glad you came back. I wanted- needed you to come back. I wanted to meet you properly before I left you.” With that statement, she pulls away and narrows her eyes at him.
“Umm, where are you planning on going?” she asks, flustered at the thought of him leaving so soon.
“Well, you know, I kind of live in Tokyo. And you’re a foreign exchange student, right? I just needed this one chance for us to, you know, meet.” YN had totally forgotten that she wasn’t from here, and that he was only visiting Karasuno for a practice match. After today, who knows how long it would be before she got to see him again. Quickly, she grasps the front of his jersey as she demands, “I need your phone number.”
“Wow, ‘need’ huh? I’m not used to girls being so forward.”
“Oh, shut up and gimme it.” YN whips out her phone and passes it to him, open and ready for a new contact.
Bokuto’s heart warms, and while typing in his information, he becomes all excited and jumpy at how desperate his soulmate seems to need contact with him. He decides he likes to feel needed, and he also decides he doesn’t like how far away his soulmate is at the moment.
Stepping directly to her, Bokuto whips out YN’s camera and grasps her on the shoulder, tugging her close and kissing her on the side of the cheek as she blushes rose-red for the picture. Snapping it quickly, Fukurodani’s captain sets it as his contact picture and sends it to his phone as well.
Eagerly, he shows her the picture he had taken and watches as she begins to shy away from him. Catching on quick, Bokuto hurriedly wraps his arm around her shoulder and tucks the side of his head into her hair.
With both of them still staring at the photo, Bokuto moves his mouth towards her ear and cheekily whispers, “We look amazing together. We must be destined for each other or something.”
He moves away with a bright, slightly smug smile as YN softly nods. “Yeah, something like that.” Bokuto moves to stand directly in front of her and observes her bashful appearance, trailing a hand up to twirl a strand of black-and-whiteness between his fingertips.
“Your hair looks great like this, by the way.”
The mood in the hall darkens abruptly at his words. YN’s pleasant smile falls from her lips, and she instantly remembers that he is her soulmate. He is the one who ruined her hair from the moment she landed in Japan.
Oh man, did she get pissed. Turns out Bokuto isn’t the only one whose attitude can change in an instant. Maybe it has something to do with the hair?
***
Inside the gym, as the teams decided to keep playing, the game was going well. Karasuno’s newly developed skills were working, and Fukurodani was learning how to adjust to games without Bokuto. Just as the second set was about to end, however, the teams heard something... slightly unsettling.
“Bokuto, you son of a b***h, what the f**k is wrong with you?! You a**hole, who the hell dyes their hair this color?! You dumba** motherf*****, I’m gonna kill you!”
Suddenly, Bokuto bursts into the gym and runs around like a headless chicken, releasing an ear-piercing screech.
“Akaashi help, my soulmate’s trying to kill me!”
The setter wasn’t surprised; he would react the same way if he had that hair and couldn’t change it. And as YN charged into the gym, storming after her fated lover, something told her she wasn’t as much of a fan of her hair as she originally thought.
trussed
⋆ ࣪. kotaro bokuto x reader
-16 and ageless blogs dni
contents Ⳋ bondage, dirty talk, breeding, size difference, established relationship, bokuto’s vocal asf
a/n : im sorry it took a while for me to start writing again, i’ve been rly sick but i wanted to get something done for yall :3
word count: 1.5k
yours and bokuto’s sex life was nothing short of boring. you two basically fucked like rabbits; when you started, you kept going until you couldn’t.
bokuto is a big guy; both of you are aware of that. his height, his muscles, even his dick prove that. you’d always wake up sore but he’d make up for it with his aftercare. no matter how you may complain, you love the way he manhandles you. you’ve been doing some thinking, and you want to try something new.
bokuto fiddled with his keys outside your shared apartment, finally home after a couple hours of practice. you perked up from your seat on the couch, deciding to meet him halfway. you stumbled over to the door to open it before he could, swinging it open and looking up at him with a smile on your face. his gaze immediately softened upon the sight of you.
you wasted no time wrapping your arms around his neck and squeezing him, making him laugh. “somebody missed me, huh?” he teased, and you nodded swiftly into the crook of his neck. he sighed, basking in your scent as his arms lazily wrapped around your waist. you pressed your chest against his, peppering kisses along his neck.
he tilted his head to give you more access, a shiver running down his spine. “you’re wastin’ no time, huh?” he said, squeezing your hips. you shook your head, lifting up to meet his half-lidded gaze. “needed you all day,” you pouted, and he pressed a kiss to your forehead. “yeah?” he piqued, making you hum. “wanna try something new.” you mumbled, your hands running along his torso.
his eyes lit up, his hands gliding down your sides to grip at your ass. “oh really? what might that be?” he asked, and you simply shook your head, grabbing his wrist and leading him to your shared bedroom. he laughed. “damn, you really are needy, huh?” he asked, a rhetorical question making your eyes roll.
as you entered the room, you dropped his wrist and stumbled to the nightstand, pulling out the drawer and dug out a soft rope; one he hadn’t seen before. his heart leaped in his chest. he had an idea of where this was going, making his shorts tight. he placed his hands on his hips, waiting for you to speak.
you turned to face him with it in your hands, your expression obviously flushed. it was a bit embarrassing to say; not that he would judge you, you knew he wouldn’t; but the fact you had to say it out loud makes you a bit awkward. you mumbled something under your breath, and he tilted his head.
“hm? you’re gonna needa speak up, pretty,” he said, his voice a little huskier than before. you stared up at him through your lashes. “want you to tie me up.” he stared at you for a moment, a chuckle escaping from him, rumbling deep within his chest. he took the rope gently from out of your hands, and pushed you down against the mattress. “really? what made you think of this?” he said, his lips finding your skin, his hands holding your hips as he nipped your collarbone. you sighed.
“..like when you manhandle me, kou,” you flushed, a whimper leaving your mouth as his teeth grazed against your sensitive skin. “fuck,” he groaned, “you like when i toss you around? hm?” he hummed against your skin, his golden eyes staring at you. you nod, a grin gracing his features. “good girl,” he purred, making you shiver.
he took the rope in his hands and examined it, looking between it and you. you were sprawled out on the mattress beneath him, his knees placed on both sides of your legs, encasing you between them. “you’ll look so pretty tied up for me, yeah?” he professed, and you meekly nod. he brings his hands to the hem of your shirt, helping you lift it up over your shoulders and tossing it to the side.
he stared down at your bare chest, licking his lips. “can’t ever get over these perfect tits,” he spoke, cupping the fat in his hands. he pressed a kiss against your sternum, his hands finding their way to the hem of your panties. “let’s get these off, hm?” he asked, and you nod, lifting your hips off the bed to help him hike it down your thighs. he groaned. “so fucking wet, and i didn’t even touch you yet, baby,” he cooed, bringing two fingers to glide between your folds. you shudder, a moan leaving your lips. “please,” you mutter, “i just need you to fuck me.”
he chuckled. “you don’t gotta tell me twice, he said, taking the rope and untying of from eachother. he looked down at you, a more serious look toning his face. “if you wanna stop, or if you want me to untie you, you know the word, okay?” he said, and you nod. “i know,” you agreed, and he smiled, pressing a kiss to your lips. “need you to help me out here, okay? lift your hands above your head.” he said, his voice soft as you complied, lifting your hands to rest above your head.
he took the rope and wrapped it snug around your wrists, tying it just tight enough for you to not slip out of it. “not too tight? all good?” he asked, wanting affirmation that you’re fully on board with this. “kou,” you sigh, a needy sound escaping your throat, “‘s good, please,” you practically beg, making him laugh. “patience, baby,” he tutted, tying the rope around the post of the headboard. once finished, he looked down at his masterpiece, a heavy breath leaving him.
“wish you could see what i see,” he groaned, “look so fuckin’ pretty all at my will like this,” he cleared his throat, his hands pulling at his waist band, swiftly pulling down his shorts and boxers in one go. he was painfully hard, his erection springing free and against his stomach. “see what you do to me?” he said, pumping his length as he spit down on your cunt. you jumped a bit, your legs spreading open as you panted. “kou,” you whined, your impatience growing more evident, and he nodded.
he aligned his tip with your entrance, bottoming out in one go. you gasp, your eyes shooting wide open as you moaned, making him moan as well. his hands rested on your waist as he leaned down to kiss you, letting you adjust to the sudden intrusion. “no matter how much i fuck you, still so tight for me,” he muttered against your lips, making you whimper. he pulled his hips out and slammed them back into you, making you moan loudly.
you always had your hands on him while you two fucked, so the feeling of being at his mercy has you clenching down around him. “oh, you like this, huh?” he teased, starting to drill into you at a steady pace, and you nod. “y-yes, fuck, ‘s so good—!” you whine, your lips puffy as you stare up at him. he nods encouragingly, his thumb coming down to rub circles into your swollen clit. you moan, your legs wrapping around his waist.
“kou, ‘m not gonna last,” you whine, your voice raspy from the amount of moaning you’ve been doing. he laughs. “damn, ‘s that good, huh,” he grinned, his hips picking up in speed, “that’s okay, pretty girl, me either. seeing you like this— fuck, can make me cum on the fuckin’ spot,” he moaned, emphasizing his words with a thrust inbetween each one, and you threw your head back. “oh my god, kou, please— cum inside, want you inside,” you babbled, and he nods, humming “mmhm, mhm,” at your words.
“yeah? want me to fill you up?” he groaned, his hips slamming into you at this point. “yes— fuck! please,” you beg, feeling your orgasm approach. “don’t worry baby, i will. you’re gonna fuckin’ cum with me, understand?” he slapped your clit, making you jolt. “y-yess, fuck, im gonna cum, im cumming—!” you moan, your jaw falling slack as your orgasm washed over you. your ears rang and you saw stars.
the way your walls fluttered around him has his thrusts uncoordinated, “fuckkk, that’s a good girl,” he drawled out, his hips stilling inside you once he helped you work through it, his load spilling into you. he held you against his pelvis, making sure you didn’t waste a drop. you both panted for a minute, and he pressed a soft kiss to your lips. “you okay?” he muttered, his tone gentle, and you nod tiredly.
he reached up to untie your wrists, tossing the rope to the side and kissing your skin in place. “did so good for me,” he praised, making your heart flutter. “maybe we’ll have to do that more often, seeing how much you liked that,” he teased, rubbing circles into your sore skin. you giggle, reaching up to pull him on top of you, him resting dead weight. “i love you,” you sigh, your head resting against his.
he chuckles, pressing a kiss to your chest. “i love you too.”
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