#bokuto fic

[sweetfushi]

fluff | kotaro bokuto x reader.

bokuto’s son is a carbon copy of him and you’re certain others have noticed. his son takes much after him, including hair, eyes and energy. it was overwhelming and exhausting at first, having to deal with two of him while you ran on little sleep.

you didn’t realise that their similarities could actually be used to control both of them simultaneously. bokuto would be watching tv, a bowl of popcorn settled on his stomach as he slumps into the couch. his son coos at the sight of his dad’s large eyes as they focus on the screen, as well as the little puffs he’s eating.

so, his little hands start to grab at bokuto’s beefy arms to steady himself. he stands on shaky legs but steeled drive, giggling as bokuto guides him on his stomach, removing the bowl of popcorn before doing so. the little boy slumps into the dips and curves of his dad’s torso the same way bokuto is slumped into the couch.

he makes the cutest coos and squeals when he’s interested in something, the same way bokuto gasps and amazes over things he’s interested in. one of his son’s tiny hands grabs at the popcorn bowl and makes bokuto grin at the aimless grabbing he does until he grabs a single popcorn.

that single popcorn becomes his emotional support. the little boy stares at it sometimes, entranced by it, or squeezes it subconsciously when he’s too dazed by the tv to do anything else. when bokuto cheers or reacts to the match on tv, his son squeals and throws his hands in the air, just like his dad.

and at the end of the night, you find them curled up asleep, bokuto hugging his son’s tiny body to his chest as the latter lays on his back. tiny snores emanate from both of them, creating a harmonisation of their complete reflection of each other.

sweetfushi © do not modify, repost, translate, copy or use my post in any way. all that is included in this post, aside from the fictional characters and universes, belong to sweetfushi (zee).

[m4iya]

⋆⑅˚₊ Order up! - coconut brownies with cookie dough to go for @strwbiv!

Took the wrong backpack ft. Bokuto Kotaro (fluff)

As the blaring sound of the bell rang throughout the school, you stood up, stretching your arms. Exhausted, you planned to immediately head home.

Though as you slid your bag onto your shoulder, a voice spoke through the school intercom, calling you by name to present yourself in the teacher’s lounge.

With a sigh, you dropped your bag on the floor near your desk and headed out

You returned after 10 or so minutes, arms sore from carrying boxes. ‘I’m not an errand runner!’ you thought to yourself as you slid the door to the classroom open. It seemed like everybody was eager to leave, as the classroom was now empty. Walking over to your desk, it looked like your bag had been kicked across the floor, as it was not where you left it. Behind your chair lied what you assumed was your bag; without checking, you tugged on the straps, slinging it over your shoulder as you left the classroom.

After returning home, you dropped the bag on your bedroom floor, slumping onto the bed. Fatigue set in, and you were no longer to keep your heavy eyelids open.

Upon waking up, golden light was no longer peeking through your translucent curtains. The sun seemed to have set a while ago. In an attempt to check the time, you reached for the bag, unzipping it to take your phone out. Though, an array of unfamiliar items met your gaze. Groggily squinting, you rubbed your eyes before hoisting the bag up onto your bed for further inspection. What on earth was all this?

A large pair of sport shoes, a towel, body spray, snacks, workout clothes? Hold on, was there even a single book in here?

Under the cacophony of items was a crinkled notebook. The front read ‘Bokuto Kotaro’ and the inside was practically empty. Flipping through the pages, the only sections with writing looked like they were written by a sleepy child. Words trailed off the page, and it was horrifyingly messy at that. Who on Earth did this bag belong to?

Just as you were about to zip the bag back up and return it to class tomorrow, an idea popped into your head. ‘Perhaps this ‘Bokuto’ has a cell in here as well?’

Sure enough, there was a phone buried inside. Turning it on and attempting to open it was a success as there was no password on it. You weren’t going to snoop around; it wasn’t yours after all. Opening the phone app, you typed in your number, hoping for an answer.

After a few rings, a boy with a vibrant voice picked up. “Hello?”

You turned the phone on loudspeaker to keep your ear in tact. “Yes, hello? Is this Bokuto Kotaro?’

“Yeah, that’s me! How did you get my number..?” He questioned, his voice trailing off. Had this boy seriously not realised the phone he’s holding isn’t his? You heard murmurs in the background as the boy had paused.

“Bokuto, that isn’t your phone.” A faint voice informed him

“What do you mean?” He stopped once more before gasping “..Wait, this isn’t my bag!”  

“I have your bag. Looks like it might’ve gotten swapped.” You responded.

“I’m so sorry! My bag wasn’t on my desk, so I assumed the one on the floor next to mine was for me!”

“Oh, are you my desk-mate? I’ll return the bag to you tomorrow then.”

“No really, I’m sorry about this!” He was a little loud; you could make out someone telling him to keep quiet. “I’ll come by in the morning! What’s your address?” He sincerely offered.  

After wearing your uniform, you made sure the bag was packed with everything that was in it yesterday. Last night, you told him that it was fine and he didn’t need to come over, but he insisted, saying he wanted to apologise properly.

Leaving the house, you shut the door behind you. In front of the gates was a tall boy with grey hair. One that you’d definitely seen before, but couldn’t recall an instance where the two of you spoke. He smiled at you, saying “Good morning!”

Walking towards him, you noticed he was carrying something in both hands. “Sorry about the bag.” He smiled, handing you a cup that seemed to be from your local café. “Do you drink hot chocolate?”

You chuckled, taking the cup from him “You really didn’t have to do that!” He slid the bag off his arm and handed it to you, and you did the same.

“Just something small to apologise!” He said, lifting the bag onto his shoulder as he walked. You followed, walking beside him.

“Thanks.” You smiled warmly, taking a sip.

‘No problem!”  

Once the two of you reached the school gates, you suddenly remembered that there had been homework assigned yesterday, and due to this whole bag fiasco, you weren’t able to do any of it.

“Oh no, I didn’t do the homework!” You panicked.

“Huh? What homework?” He turned to you, perplexed. Right.. the horrors of his notebook said enough.

“I’m going to do it in the library during the break. Wanna tag along?”

“Sure!” You made a mental note to make him do his too.

Mya's Bakery Event 𝜗𝜚 other works

[veenxys]

「Making out with Haikyuu boys」

⤷ Bokuto

he loves messy kisses where he can show all his love and need for you. runs his hands over you, from your thighs up and down your back. he loves to bite your bottom lip just to see a reaction from you. he likes to control the direction of the kiss, sometimes even taking your hands and putting them around his neck, or just pulling you into his lap.

⤷ Kuroo

he likes to tease you; it starts with soft, sweet kisses and quickly turns into deep, passionate kisses. he likes to pull away just to see you searching his lips, needing him. he likes to put you on his lap so that you are impossibly close; you feel the heat of his body as he kisses you passionately, squeezing and stroking your body as if that’s the last thing he’s going to do. he also likes to bite and suck your bottom lip and smile against you when you gasp against him.

⤷ Atsumu

you held his cheek so gently and leaned in, placing a tender kiss on his lips, looking at him passionately and giving him a sweet smile, and that’s what drove him crazy. he feels his heart racing and butterflies appear in his stomach. he would then pull you back to sit on his lap and he would kiss you again and again and again until you were pulling away breathlessly. smiling at each other, he puts his hand in your hair and caresses the back of your neck with one hand while the other glides down your body before pulling you into a passionate kiss again.

⤷ Osamu

one of his main goals is to get a reaction from you. he knows your every weak spot and every thing you love him to do and he will do anything just to hear you moan or gasp against him. he loves to kiss your neck or jaw, run his hands over your body, pull you against him so you can feel him… he knows how to leave you on cloud nine.

⤷ Oikawa

he likes to get between your legs while giving you a few teasing kisses everywhere but your mouth, just so he can see you ask him for what you both want. he knows your weaknesses and likes to use them against you just to see your reaction and teasingly say “do you like that, love?” “do you want me to do it again?” he manages to stay in charge only for a while because you are his weak point and, when he least expects it, he is completely surrendered and obsessed with you; needing your touch and your taste more than anything.

⤷ Nishinoya

loves it when he can kiss you against a wall, leaning in and pecking your lips sweetly before you wrap your legs around his waist and pull him closer, biting his bottom lip. always pulls back to gently brush some hair from your face with a loving, teasing look in his eyes.

⤷ Kenma

his kisses and caresses start off shy but affectionate; leaving light kisses on your lips, stroking your thigh with his thumb before finally kissing you again with more passion. his lips are soft against yours, sweet in a way that makes you wish this moment would never pass. he takes your cheek in his hand and strokes it gently with his thumb. he likes to leave kisses on your jaw and neck and hide his face in your neck and smile because, like you, he never wants this moment to end.

⤷ Suna

lazy making out with him is a favorite. you could be lying in bed together, watching a movie when he starts spraying kisses all over your cheek/neck. soon the movie is forgotten as all your attention is focused on his lips and the way his hands touch you so needy and loving. your hand is on his cheek while you kiss him deeply but slowly.

⤷ Sakusa

loves to kiss your neck. his lips would run down from your lips to your jaw, then your neck, his tongue peeking out to lick the skin teasingly, sometimes nipping at it. soft whispers of “you are so beautiful” between kisses, little sighs when he leaves hickeys on your skin. he always smiles and buries his face in your neck afterwards, just enjoying the warmth of your body.

⤷ Hinata

his intentions in the beginning were innocent; just a sweet kiss on your lips and a squeeze on your waist as a show of affection. but when he least expects it, he’s on top of you on the couch; you sliding your arms around his neck as you deepen the kiss. him running his hands over your body, leaving light grips and soft caresses as he moves his body against yours, making you gasp against him. his lips moving in a slow, passionate rhythm as he likes to take his time making out.

[tsukishumai]

Love Galore

pairing: kuroo tetsuro x f!reader x bokuto koutsro

chapter summary: an introspective view of the story's events from the beginning — through the eyes of Akaashi Keiji

wc: 19.2k+ [jfc i really am so sorry]

a/n: thank you to those that have stuck by me and this story, despite my hiatus. i truly appreciate every single person that's ever read a single word of LG, or left lovely messages/comments, from the bottom of my heart, thank you so much. i worked on this chapter, little by little every day, and i promise i never stopped thinking about you guys. i kept thinking it was done, but apparently i had a lot to say haha. this still isn't the end, but please enjoy the chapter, i've worked really hard on it and i hope you like it :) your love and support mean the world to me, xoxo

Masterlist

chapter 14 ✧ souffle pancakes

Akaashi doesn’t say much, but he sees it all. 

It was a habit that he’s had for as long as he could remember, practically born with. Practically second nature, it seems, for him to keep a keen and sharp eye on his surroundings, making mental notes until it’s all piled up and cluttered into his brain. He’s been called many things in his short life. Observant. Perspective. Attentive. Psychic. Genius. Creepy. 

Akaashi prefers to just be called Keiji. 

Most of the time, he thinks it’s a blessing.  

When he was younger, he’d impress all the old ladies in his neighborhood with his mindless comments.

Have you lost weight?

That’s a new jacket isn’t it, oba-san?

Oh, that must be a different perfume you’re wearing today.

Comments that sounded adorable coming from a child, when all the others in his age range could barely notice if they were even wearing matching shoes. 

Sometimes, he’s thankful. It was what got him so far in the sport he loved, after all. His ability to see things others usually just brush to the side — how an opponent grits his teeth and flexes his jaw right before he jumps up for the spike, or the directions their eyes tend to flicker to right before they pass the ball. How the twitch of their lip meant anger and annoyance, or the restless running around the court showing impatience. 

Akaashi sees it all – each bit of information sorted into the compartments in his mind, saving it for when he needs to make his move. This wasn’t something inherent – it was a skill he only learned with time, through trials and errors until his mind became a well-oiled machine. Eventually, it’d become difficult for anyone to escape the sharpness of Akaashi’s eyes, and it’s a skill he’s always used to his own benefit. 

If that player’s angry, it will be easy to bait him. If he’s impatient, then it’s just a matter of time before he makes a mistake. And Akaashi will be right there waiting. 

It was easily applicable outside of the court as well.

In the hallways of school, he’d learned to ignore the giggles and whispers in his wake. Making friends was simple, almost effortless. An off-handed comment about someone’s new haircut, bringing his classmates snacks and drinks as if he had just accidentally bought too much at the convenience store – not a single person thinking twice at the fact that he’d miraculously gotten all their favorites. 

Akaashi was the guy that would notice if you were wearing different nail polish, or if the charms on your backpack were different, would note if you’ve started a new sport or were talking about that new drama just a little bit more often – and he’d say a something that could be compliment, with only a few words at best, but it was enough for you to note that he was paying attention. 

In his second year of junior high, he’d even become quite the hot topic among the girls in his class, because somehow he could always tell who had a crush on who. They’d flock around his desk like vultures, picking at whatever bits and scraps they could get from his carcass until he had no choice but to throw them a bone. 

If you get this bread for Yagi-kun, he’ll really like it. 

Arakawa-san told me he likes girls with short hair. 

Toku-san studies in the library on Wednesdays, you should bring him a drink.

The boys would try to act like they’re not interested in the commotion that always seemed to surround Akaashi. Gossip? That’s for the girls – not something for boys to partake in. But it was only a matter of time before they’d come running to Akaashi for a “psychic reading”, never wanting to admit that all they really wanted was a bit of guidance. 

They’d come running back to him, tittering and snickering whenever his advice would work. Suddenly, he was seen as a genius, a guru – as much as any preteen boy could actually be.

It was easy, really – a person’s body language can often tell you much more than words could ever manage to say, and Akaashi had always been an avid reader. He’d try to tell them as much, try to teach his friends what to look for and where, but alas the ability had still been dubbed a ‘gift’.

But sometimes, it can be a curse. 

For a long while, there were only two kinds of people in Akaashi’s life: those that wanted to use him for his talents, and those that seemed to resent him for it. 

It was actually comical how fast it is for some to turn their backs. Flipping around on him like a switch, taking all the brightness with them and leaving Akaashi alone in the dark. 

He had learned – the hard way – that most people actually quite hated the notion of being perceived. It strikes them with a sense of anxiety that was unfamiliar – not exactly fear, but something akin to uneasiness. The constant feeling of eyes on your back was enough to drive anyone crazy, even more so when you’re meant to be somewhere safe. 

It’s not as if Akaashi was doing it on purpose. Sometimes, he wasn’t even aware he was doing anything at all. He wasn’t watching anyone specifically, but was it his fault if certain things caught his attention? Was it wrong for him to be observant of his surroundings? His classmates were part of his environment, it was only natural for them to be part of his observations as well. It was nothing personal, it was just a habit.

It was difficult to explain as such when a boy from his class called him a stalker for knowing he was in the soccer club, because how else could Akaashi have known? He hardly knew Akaashi. Even though Akaashi pointed out the grass stains on his socks and the pair of cleats peeking out of his bag, the boy still threatened Akaashi to stay far away. 

It was even harder for him to calm the angry girl from two classes over – the one that happened to always eat at the lunch table next to his in the cafeteria. He froze when she stormed up to him, tossing a baby blue hair clip on his table. Steam was billowing out from her eyes, saying she’d only ever spoken a grand total of six words to him, so how the hell does he know her favorite color? Never mind the fact that her earrings, her phone case, her jacket, her thermos, and her bento are all that same color. It was an educated guess, one that was clearly correct if her angry reaction was enough to go by. 

It was frustrating, honestly. Did she even know how pathetic his own classmate looked, sniffing around Akaashi and asking how he should approach the cute girl from class 2-C? Was it really wrong for Akaashi to suggest getting her a hair clip in the same color? What difference did it make whether he figured out random stuff about her or not? 

But the scowl she threw in his direction had almost successfully masked the panic that swept through her eyes. But Akaashi had seen it. 

She was afraid. Of him.

She had called him names then, names he had heard before. Weirdo. Stalker. Creep. Names that never bothered him in the past, but coupled with the look of fright on this girl's face – whose favorite color he knew, but name remained foreign – all of it sounded much harsher than he ever remembered. Especially when she dumped the rest of her milk on the top of his head. 

After that incident, there was a sort of shift in public opinion on Akaashi. The whispers that followed him down the hall no longer mingled with soft giggles and smiles. They were whispers behind narrowed eyes and scowling faces, disapproving frowns upon any lips that would say his name.

Some friends stood by his side, half-heartedly defending him in a way that told him they didn’t actually care – they just wanted to stay on his good side. Nosy busybodies that only shielded him from the wary stares so they could keep asking him for his advice on whether he thought Dairiki-kun like girls with bangs or without.

It was one of the few times Akaashi had really, truly felt pathetic. His life was sitting in the sweaty palms of his peers, and a single wrong move will have him crushed by their grubby little fingers. It was infuriating, suffocating – having to think twice, thrice, four times before Akaashi could even say a single word. 

But they had already decided on the box they would put Akaashi in, and he could do nothing more than sit still. Sit still and ignore the sneers and scowls from people that he used to call friends. Stay quiet when the boys of his class would shove him around the halls calling him freak. Look the other way when he’d come back to his desk and his things were destroyed. Ignore the pang in his chest when he ate his lunches alone in the library. 

At the turn of his adolescence – his first year of high school – Akaashi decided that things needed to change. 

Fukurodani Academy was a different setting – different classes, different halls, different people.

He would be a different Akaashi Keiji. No longer putting himself out there, or offering his observations to anyone who would listen. He would just keep to himself, and not let anyone close enough to contain him again.

Then he met Bokuto Kotaro. 

The boy was simplistic in nature. Kind and bright, with a horde of people that always followed him around wherever he went. Dozens of eyes constantly tracked his every move without fail, and Bokuto happened to be the type of person that thrived in such an environment. Though, despite being interested in the same sport, Akaashi never felt the need to become a part of his entourage. He was exactly the kind of guy Akaashi wanted – needed –  to avoid. 

But some things are simply not up to him. Each morning, he managed to mask the slight surprise on his face each time he walked into the volleyball team’s gym, and found that Bokuto was already there. And had probably been there for who knows how long. When Akaashi joined this team, he fully expected to always be the first to show up, and last to leave the gym each day, just as it was at his previous school. 

Yet, there Bokuto was, every morning without fail, nothing but his grunts and the echoes of the ball spiking on the ground filling the gym. Every morning, he’d greet Akaashi with too much energy, the corners of his lips never dropping despite the fact that Akaashi never responded with anything other than a silent nod. 

For a little while, that was all they had. A silent agreement to work together on the sport they loved, to be a team on the court, and strictly teammates off of it. Nothing more, nothing less. Bokuto continued being his charming self, scoring victories and basking in adoration as he was wont to do. Akaashi stood content to the side, satisfied with the joy of knowing his serves were in the capable hands of such an ace. 

Akaashi should have known that it was only a matter of time until Bokuto would flip everything around. 

They had been alone in the gym for at least an hour at that time, while the rest of Fukurodani Volleyball Club had gone home at an actual reasonable hour. The sun was already slipping past the horizon, taking with it the last tendrils of the day’s light. Bokuto had begged Akaashi to stay a little longer and help with his spikes, as usual. And Akaashi was quick to agree, as usual. 

What was unusual was the way Bokuto kept glancing at Akaashi from the corner of his eye, and Akaashi wanted to laugh at Bokuto’s pathetic excuse of being discreet.

“What is it?” Akaashi asked, uncharacteristically breaking the silence. 

Bokuto jumped, startled that Akaashi noticed him watching. It took a second for Bokuto to gather himself, absentmindedly bouncing the volleyball on the gleaming gym floor, face scrunched in a way that Akaashi had only seen while Bokuto was on the court.

“I wanted to ask you something,” Bokuto opened with those words, bouncing the ball one last time before catching it tightly in his hands. Akaashi’s silence was the only indicator of an agreement, and Bokuto took this as his cue to continue. 

“Why do you hold back?” 

There were many things Akaashi thought Bokuto might have asked. This one wasn’t even really on the list. Akaashi had forgotten what it felt like to be caught so off guard, unable to do anything but stand stupidly as his mind buffered. Bokuto’s pupils moved imperceptibly quickly, raking themselves all over Akaashi. 

“I’m not sure what you mean,” Akaashi replied carefully, his shoulders rigid, nervously clasping his hands in front of him.

Bokuto frowned a little deeper, resting the volleyball now between his arm and his hip. “You don’t have to lie, Akaashi. I can tell you’re not… I see how you watch everything, but you always catch yourself before doing anything. It’s like you’re scared or… or – I don’t know! But you are, you’re holding back! I can just tell.”

It took all of Akaashi’s willpower not to let his jaw hang loose, only allowing himself to blink slowly. He dug through his mind, searching through every crevice for any memory of someone being able to read him like this. He went out of his way to be invisible, yet the overly cheerful, happy go lucky, sunshine ace of the volleyball team had somehow managed to still see right through him. 

“So why?” Bokuto prodded again, and his tone could easily be confused as haughty, but Akaashi knew better. Akaashi continues to study Bokuto, the poor boy fidgeting under Akaashi’s frigid stare. But he doesn’t move, doesn’t back away. His weight shifted from one foot to the other, but he still waited for an answer

“It’s a long story,” Akaashi said quietly, turning around to walk towards the volleyball cart. 

He hoped that would be the end of it, that Bokuto would take the hint and leave him alone. But before he could take more than three steps toward the cart, it clattered loudly and rolled away with the momentum of the volleyball that just landed into it from across the gym. 

Akaashi turns back to Bokuto, a single eyebrow raised incredulously at Bokuto’s now empty hands. A corner of Bokuto’s mouth lifts devilishly, and he offers Akaashi nothing but a shrug of his shoulders.

“I’ve got a bit of time,” Bokuto rests his hands on his hips, shifting all his weight onto one leg. Akaashi wanted to laugh, wanted to cry, and wanted to ask Bokuto why he even cared. He was happy with how things were right now, and there was no need for him to do anything drastic. 

Even as the thought passed through his mind, Akaashi could feel no truth behind it. And one look at Bokuto told him that he was not winning this round. He crossed his arms in front of his chest, and heaved out a sigh.

“If I don’t hold myself back, then people tend to get intimidated,” Akaashi offered, and that was as much as he was willing to expand on at this moment. “And when people are scared of you… that’s when you find out how nasty they can actually be.” 

“So what? You’re scared?” Bokuto asked, and Akaashi scoffed because of course he wouldn’t understand. Everyone loved Bokuto, and even those that didn’t still held some sort of respect for him. He was the ace of the volleyball team, and he was the school’s heartthrob. What the hell would he know about being shunned and isolated?

Akaashi opened his mouth to say something snarky, the words burning up his throat and on to the tip of his tongue. Except when his lips parted, it wasn’t his voice that came out.

“If you hold yourself back because of random, faceless people, then aren’t you letting them win?” Bokuto interrupted Akaashi before he could speak, as if he knew that if he let the setter say whatever he was about to say, then the conversation would take a dive into the worst. “I hate losing, Akaashi.”

“What does me losing have anything to do with you?” Akaashi asked.

“Because we’re partners now. I got your back, and if you lose, I lose,” Bokuto smiled this time, and Akaashi’s chest felt a little bit lighter, “Like I said, I hate losing. So don’t make me into a loser, okay? Or it’s gonna be a problem.”

Bokuto brushes past Akaashi as he finishes speaking, hands resting on the back of his head as he walks the distance across the gym and to the volleyball cart. Akaashi’s eyes followed him in awe, a sudden fluttering in his heart and stomach as the ace digs out a new volleyball and bounces it twice onto the hardwood floors.

“We’ve only done eighty serves,” Bokuto changes the topic seamlessly, continuing on as if he hadn’t rendered Akaashi speechless, “We gotta do at least twenty more before Yamiji-san comes back to kick us out.” 

Akaashi felt his feet move, his arms positioning themselves to receive, his body running around the gym until sweat dripped on the floor all around him. But his thoughts were elsewhere, plagued with memories of a past that had apparently silenced him into a pathetic existence. He’d thought this path would be better, make him feel like he belonged.

Maybe for a while, he convinced himself that it did, satisfied with existing as a shadow on the wall. He hadn’t anticipated Fukurodani's golden-eyed Adonis to shatter the illusion with so much ease, Akaashi wonders how he ever fooled himself into believing it in the first place. 

They didn’t say a single word to each other for the rest of their practice. Or on the walk home. Or at morning practice the next day. Bokuto didn’t speak to Akaashi until the middle of their afternoon practice, when Akaashi had received every single one of Konoha’s spikes and gave Bokuto elegant, risky serves that had everyone on the other side of the net scrambling on their feet. 

“That’s what I’m talking about,” Bokuto exclaimed while pumping his fist, giving Akaashi a pat on the back that made the setter jerk forward two steps, “Keep that up, Akaashi!”

Akaashi rubbed the back of his neck, tilting his head slightly to the side. That’s when he noticed the thumbs up Bokuto had thrown you from across the court, and the relieved smile you returned as you flipped the numbers on the scoreboard. You and Bokuto held each other’s gazes for a moment longer, and Akaashi felt like he’d eavesdropped on an entire conversation. 

You shivered slightly when Bokuto broke away, as if Akaashi’s icy stare washed over your entire body. Then you turned your head unnaturally quick and met Akaashi’s stare dead on, making him jolt. You offered him a small wave and half a grin, but before he could respond, Bokuto was dragging him back into the game. 

After practice, Akaashi found Bokuto waiting for him by the gates of the school. He flew into an immediate tirade about the bad grade he got on his exam, and how the cafeteria ran out of katsu before he could get there. You showed up in the middle of Bokuro’s story, and the three of you started walking in sync towards the direction of Akaashi’s house, your voice mingling with Bokuto’s as you offered your own tidbits of the day. Akaashi didn���t question how you both knew where he lived, or why he was suddenly flanked by the two chattiest students in Fukurodani. But if Akaashi had known that was how it would all begin, then he might have cherished that moment a little bit more. 

He never really spoke to you during his initial months in the club, which isn’t saying much as he didn’t speak to anyone. You were nice enough – always asked him how he was doing, berating the older ones whenever they’d give him a hard time, giving him reassuring smiles whenever he got scolded for messing up. The perfect example of a manager; your only fault being the nonsensical hearts in your eyes whenever they happened to land on Bokuto. 

You tried to hide it desperately, but there was no hiding the affection in your smiles whenever they were directed toward Bokuto. It was obvious, painfully so, and it bewildered Akaashi that Bokuto still had not noticed. He can at least assume Yukie and Kaori knew, if the worried glances they threw at each other behind your back were of any indication. But if they or anyone else on the team were aware of your feelings, they respected your efforts enough to keep their thoughts to themselves. 

He couldn’t blame you, not in the slightest. Not when Akaashi’s own heart skipped a beat or two during the night of that initial confrontation, and suddenly he himself was enamored by the ace – wanted to give him the best serves, set up the best plays, win him all the games. When Bokuto was on the court, then it was natural law of the universe for Akaashi to use every skill in his arsenal to make sure he shines. Akaashi did not choose for it to be this way, it simply is.

Perhaps that was how it was for you as well, Akaashi thought. Sometimes, the most painful part about love is having no choice, the complete loss of control. Akaashi could see it; the groan after each stolen glance, shaking him off when his hug made your face too hot,  how you would slap your cheeks whenever you caught yourself staring, like a desperate attempt to break yourself out of some wretched spell.

If Akaashi was being honest, he hated seeing you that way. It didn’t take long for you to become someone precious to him, maybe even quicker than it took for Bokuto. Bokuto infuriated Akaashi as easily as he amazed him, each day a toss up on whether he admired him or wanted to strangle him.

But you brought Akaashi comfort, and a sense of understanding he’d never experienced from a friend. Sure, technically it was your job to assist the team, but he could tell that everything you did truly came from your heart. You were kind and selfless, the type of person that would give someone the very shirt off your back but still spit venom at anyone that spoke ill of your friends. 

To have you in his corner, Akaashi couldn’t even begin to explain how much it saved him. He’d been drowning in the middle of an ocean, nearly overpowered by turbulent waves when Bokuto had given him a boat, and you’d given him an oar. As long as he remained with the two of you, then Akaashi thought he could get himself through it all. 

So whenever he would watch you watch Bokuto flex his muscles to the girls cheering in the stands during a game, watch you gripping your clipboard so hard your knuckles turned white, he may feel... a little bit more than annoyed. And whenever Bokuto would then openly flirt with some of those girls after the game, Akaashi could admit that he might even feel a little bit upset.

Because how could he not see the way you look at him, how you smile when he says your name, how you trail after him like a lovesick puppy? At this point, Akaashi’s been friends with the two of you for months, won and lost countless games, gone to training camps, spent more time with each other than with your own families. And the entire time, Akaashi had to work very hard to act like he didn’t notice your feelings. How could Bokuto still be so ignorant? 

It really bothered him a lot more than he cared to admit, and it surprised him. Akaashi never expected to care about you the way he does, but there it was. Maybe it was this comfortable closeness between you that propelled Akaashi to act so boldly, in a way he couldn’t bring himself to in a long time. 

At the end of one of these unsavory games, while Bokuto busied himself with trying to get the number of a cheerleader in the stand, Akaashi scanned the court for a second, stopping only when his eyes landed on you. You were comparing your notes with the coach, and Akaashi waited until you finished speaking and Yamiji-san stalked off to scold someone else before he approached. 

“Keiji! There you are, I wanted to talk to about your receives in the first set, you –”

“Are you ever going to tell him?” Akaashi asked, not even registering what you were saying. You might have been irritated at his interruption if you hadn’t been confused by the seemingly random question he just threw at your face.

“What? Tell who what?” 

“Bokuto,” Akaashi crossed his arms and straightened his back, “Are you ever going to tell him how you feel?”

You blinked at him once, the only indication that you heard what Akaashi said. He stood facing you, and the seconds seemed to stretch as you did nothing but stare back. The cacophony of sounds that usually bounced along the walls of the gym suddenly sounded muffled and dull. Your lips twitched slightly before they spread into a rehearsed grin, your face slipping easily into a mask of casual indifference.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, Keiji,” you answered him softly, shaking your head. 

“Come on, Y/N,” Akaashi groaned, “You know exactly –”

“No, I really don’t,” you said almost pleadingly, your eyes darting around the gym, a mixture of sadness and relief in them when you see Bokuto still showing off to the girls that descended from the bleachers. You look back at Akaashi, brows furrowed as you said, “I don’t know what would make you even think that. Bokuto’s my best friend – that’s it. God, Akaashi, you should really be careful about what you say. If someone heard you, they might have gotten the wrong idea.”

You shot him another hard look – almost a glare, and one that he could read very well, that told him you knew he knew you were lying, that said please, just play along – before you made an excuse of gathering up all the other players for the bus back to school. 

Akaashi’s feet felt stuck to the ground, an achingly familiar helplessness sluicing through him as you walked away. He couldn’t even bring himself to move until Bokuto threw an arm around his shoulder to drag him out, finally done with his flirting and ready to go home. 

You were already seated on the bus when Bokuto and Akaashi finally deigned to board. The seat beside you was occupied by a chattering Yukie, who refused to move despite Bokuto’s complaints of always being the one that sits next to you. You laughed sheepishly and yelled claims of ‘manager bonding’ and doing everything you could to avoid meeting Akaashi’s eye. 

That was the tone of your relationship for the next few weeks. An awkward tension that no one else seemed to notice but you and him. You didn’t treat him any differently – you still greeted him with a smile, walked home together everyday, still messed with him during practice. You still asked him about his day, and told him about yours and Akaashi almost could have convinced himself that nothing was wrong. 

But everything you did started to feel like an act. Disingenuous, like a robot following a set program. You stopped sitting next to Bokuto at lunch, started walking to classes with your other friends instead. Your eyes started flicking to Akaashi whenever you felt you laughed too loudly at Bokuto’s jokes, and you latched yourself to the other players, throwing everyone off kilter. 

You were going out of your way to prove a point that only Akaashi could understand, and even when Bokuto himself had pointed out your strange behavior, you simply brushed him off. There was a sense of insecurity that Akaashi knew he instilled in your actions, and it brought a twinge of regret that he never wanted to feel when it came to you. 

Akaashi had been pouring over how to remedy the situation for days when an olive branch came in the form of Bokuto’s new girlfriend. 

She was a girl from another school, and he met her after one of their games. She came over to their side of the court and congratulated Bokuto for thoroughly defeating her team. She was very pretty and he liked her smile, so Bokuto had asked her out, and she was very quick to say yes. She was waiting for him one day after practicing, standing patiently at the entrance gates with a bag of homemade cookies in her hand. 

Bokuto was so excited as he ran out of the gym to meet her, sparing one minute to ask Akaashi to let you know where he’d gone. Akaashi supposed it was a little comforting to know that Bokuto genuinely cared about you, even if it was encased with his own selfishness. 

Akaashi waited until the rest of the volleyball club had emptied the gym before he made his way into the equipment room. He could hear your sniffling before he even opened the door, his heart slowly crumbling when he walked in on you crouched behind the volleyball cart. 

You sat on the floor, hugging your knees to your chest. Your forehead rested against your knees, and your quiet sobs filled the tiny room. You didn’t bother to look up as Akaashi approached, and fought his own tears as your shoulders shook with every breath. 

He kneeled in front of you quietly, silently debating with himself before he placed a tender hand on your shoulder. You continued to cry, taking uneven, shaky breaths. You didn’t move from your position, and Akaashi briefly wondered if you’d even registered his presence. 

“Did he leave?” You asked suddenly, voice thick and hoarse.

“Yes,” Akaashi answered. 

Slowly, you lifted your head to face him. Your eyes were puffed and swollen, eyes rimmed with red and cheeks stained with tears. Snot dribbled down your nose disgracefully, and there was a sorry attempt on your part to wipe away the evidence of your heartbreak. The sleeves you’d worn your heart on were now soaked with salty tears, and you couldn’t control the tremble of your lips. 

Akaashi didn’t know what else to do other than wrap his arms around you. The position was awkward and he’s pretty sure he’d actually never hugged you before. He felt you stiffen for a second, almost making him pull back. But then you buried your face into the crook of his neck and cried. Akaashi could feel his shirt begin to soak, but he pulled you tighter against him. 

He had no idea how long he held you for, but he stayed there in that smelly old equipment room and he held you until his knees ached and you had no more tears left to give. 

Neither of you spoke once you were done, giving him a sad smile as you pulled away. He didn’t offer one back, but he helped you up to your feet and kept an arm around your shoulder as you both walked out silently. Akaashi knew there was nothing he could say to soothe the pain, and you didn’t look like you wanted to say a single word about it anyway. 

He simply walked home with you as usual, taking the long way around to ensure you both end up walking by your favorite takoyaki stand. He spent the money he was saving in his wallet for a rainy day, and bought you all the food you could eat. He had even gotten your favorite popsicle from the convenience store by your house, and though you still remained silent, he was happy to see you eat everything he gave you. 

By the time Akaashi dropped you off at your front door, the tears were long gone and the moon was high in the sky. You turned to Akaashi, nervously fiddling with your fingers as you tried to find the words. Akaashi smiled to himself, and reached out to pat his hand lightly on the top of your head.

“It’ll be okay,” he said, hoping you’d believe him. The lonely smile you gave him tells him you don’t, but you hug each other one last time anyway before saying your goodbyes.

Akaashi remembered the first time you and Bokuto successfully broke through his brick walls. Broke might have been too gentle of a word for it though – smashed through might be better. It was at the start of his second season with Fukurodani, and he was still riding the high of an amazing first year. He was ready for an even better year, ready to try out his new skills at the first practice match Yamiji-san had arranged with a school the team had never played with before. 

Then a familiar voice called his name from the other side of the court. A few familiar faces from a life he was desperate to forget peered at him through the net, chuckling and laughing and asking him where the hell he’s been for the past year? Akaashi froze – completely and pathetically froze. It was only after six missed serves and accidentally smacking Bokuto in the back of the head with a ball did Yamiji-san finally tire of his antics and benched him for the rest of the game. 

Akaashi ran to the locker rooms as soon as practice was over. He didn’t acknowledge his old classmates, didn’t even pretend to be polite or engage in empty pleasantries. Instead, he hid in one of the shower stalls until the rest of the team left and he was absolutely sure there would be no one left to see him leave. 

But when he exited the stall, there you were. Standing next to Bokuto in a locker room he was absolutely sure you weren’t allowed to be in, with your hands on your hip and brows etched in concern. The two of you cornered him, and barricaded him until he fessed up about what the hell just happened on that court. Akaashi was a resilient man, but even he could do nothing against you two. 

So he told you everything – from his ‘guru’ days to the milk dumping incident to the isolation and bullying – everything. He didn’t stop speaking for what felt like hours, but neither you nor Bokuto interrupted him once, allowing him to regurgitate everything he’d been holding in for years. 

When he was done, he wasn’t sure what he expected. Pity, or sympathy or something like that. But, no. Instead, when he looked at the faces of his two best friends, all he saw was anger. Clenched fists, tight jaws, fire burning in eyes – anger. And it made him happy. Whatever happened in his past didn’t matter, because here, he had two people who were willing to get angry on his behalf. 

He thought he couldn’t get any closer to you than he was at that moment. But he was wrong.

Walking away from your doorstep, Akaashi knew the bond between the two of you was solidified after this – having already seen each other at your worst, taking turns being each other’s salvation. You become more than his friend, you were his sister. Sister in pain, sister in darkness, sister in light. There wasn’t anything he wouldn’t do for you, and you for him. 

Thinking back, the sobbing was probably a bit of an overreaction. A little dramatic considering Bokuto had broken up with that girl not even three weeks later. He was crying and moaning about it for about ten minutes until you promised to take him to his favorite yakiniku spot, and he never thought about that girl again. 

Things would go back to normal for a little while – the three of you acting as reckless teenagers do when they had free reign over the streets of Tokyo. Sitting in cafes sharing one drink for four hours, getting scolded by the coach for staying in the gym too long, laughing and arguing over the most ridiculous reasons that Bokuto turned emo. 

Until Bokuto meets his next girlfriend. Then your heart breaks into a million pieces, and Akaashi tries to hold you together. Then Bokuto breaks up with his girlfriend, and comes running back with crocodile tears in his eyes. You’d catch him again with open arms, and things are alright for a little while until the ugly cycle starts over again. 

Akaashi tried not to let himself wonder why you allowed yourself to accept this – allow Bokuto to put you through it over and over again. He told himself that he didn’t really care, it wasn’t any of his business. Whether you told Bokuto your true feelings or not was your prerogative, and Akaashi wouldn’t do anything but respect your decisions. Even if the decision seemed borderline masochistic. 

Akaashi is forced to simply brush off his irritation at his best friend, because Bokuto was so painfully unaware of what he’d been doing. And if Bokuto was too stupid to see what was right in front of his eyes, then Akaashi was not interested in being the one to enlighten him. 

Ultimately, Akaashi does what he does best – keep his mouth shut and his thoughts to himself. He would listen to every single complaint Bokuto would have about his girlfriends, but he never dared offer his own opinions. He allowed you to drag him to whatever random activity would keep your mind off your own issues, but he never outwardly acknowledged the hurt you always tried to hide. 

And as horrible it is to say, the girls never lasted very long. A month, maybe two at the most. Hardly enough time for Akaashi to memorize any names, as cruel as that sounded. Soon enough, they would complain about his training schedule, or whine about how he hangs out with his friends a bit too much, and that was all it took for Bokuto to cut it off. Bokuto’s priorities always remained the same, and that at least was something Akaashi happily gave him credit for. 

By the time college rolled around, you had even started dating. No one else had ever successfully managed to ensnare your attention for more than five minutes, but Akaashi appreciated seeing you try. Though he admits it was rather amusing to see Bokuto so fervently talk shit about any person you had even a remote interest in, and maybe a little bit more than satisfying to see Bokuto finally be the one on the other side. 

Bokuto, surprisingly, never actually brought any of his girlfriends around. He talked about them, and on occasion, he would invite them to some of his games, but that was it. It was odd, because Bokuto had always struck Akaashi as the type that wanted his partner cheering for him at every opportunity they could get, and would want to hear their voice screaming his name from the stands. But on the rare occasion he actually allowed any of them to come watch him, Bokuto was quick to usher them out of the gym before anyone could even introduce themselves.

It bewildered Akaashi to no end. Was it because he was ashamed?Akaashi’s met at least two girlfriends, and Bokuto’s gone on double dates with Konoha and Washio. Was he hiding his girlfriends from you?

Did he finally get a taste of his own medicine when he saw you kiss that guy in your psych class? Was Bokuto trying to spare you the pain? Akaashi didn’t really want to think of the implications if that statement were true. 

Well, out of sight, out of mind was a set up that worked for him very well.

And more importantly, it worked well enough for you. Worked for Bokuto as well, apparently. He didn’t want to see any of your flings, and you were better off not seeing any of his. A nauseating song and dance that only the two of you knew the steps for. Neither of you were willing to be each other's partner, satisfied to let the opportunity suspend in the air between you, yet never reaching out to take it. 

But hey, if you’re fine with it, then Akaashi could work with this. He could live with this.

That was until Hikari came along. 

Akaashi was honestly a little surprised – Hikari wasn’t typically the type of woman that Bokuto would tangle himself with. That wasn’t to say anything about her looks, or her personality – she was very much Bokuto’s type. But she had already been an essential part of at least one aspect of his life before they started dating, and it was unusual for Bokuto to allow a relationship to transpire with someone so close – the manager of his team, at that. Bokuto always dated outside the proximity of his circle; someone that went to another school, or one that he met at the gym, or sat next to him in one of his classes. 

Never anyone too close. Never anyone that would matter if he lost them. 

But apparently, Hikari was a woman on a mission. Akaashi knew it from the first time he met her, could see it in the wolfish gleam in her eyes as she watched Bokuto from across the room.

He was a little taken aback, but not all that shocked when you came home from that party, practically giving him a heart attack when you burst through the front door and stormed directly to the couch. You didn’t spare him a glance before you face planted onto the cushions, buried your face into the decorative pillows he’d spent two hours picking, and let out the most ungodly scream he’d ever heard. 

You didn’t have to tell him what happened; Akaashi could easily guess. 

“What’s wrong with you?” he still asked slowly, afraid any sudden movements might cause you to lunge. 

“I wish I knew,” your voice was muffled, not bothering to lift your head from the pillow. 

A nagging voice in his head told him he should have stayed at that party, to be your emotional support at the very least if nothing else. He mentally kicked himself, glaring at the laptop he sat in front of, and the blinking document of his unfinished part in the group project he was meant to present to his group mates in the morning. As if the assignment was responsible for his failure. 

You’d be safe if he left, he reasoned with himself. The volleyball team was full of idiots, but they were all good guys. Besides, Bokuto was there and there wasn’t a single chance in hell anything bad would happen to you while he was around. And if Bokuto was too drunk, then Kuroo at least would make sure you all got home safely.  He’d even set himself up on the dining room table so he could see you walk through the front door with his own two eyes. 

Because he had fully expected you to walk through those doors with Bokuto in tow like you’ve done dozens of times, and the fact that you arrived in the dead of night alone was enough to make Akaashi’s blood pressure rise. 

He stood from his chair and walked the few short steps to the fridge. He opened the freezer door, pushing through packets of frozen meat until he found the cream puff flavored ice cream that you had to special order online. He grabs the pint and two spoons before he makes his way to the couch. 

You didn’t move when he pushed your leg to the side, sitting on the opposite side of the sofa. You didn’t move when he nudged your calves with his knuckles and asked you to sit up before you suffocated. So he just leaned back, tossing the lid of the ice cream pint onto the coffee table before digging in. 

It’d been two bites of ice cream and one minute later when you slowly maneuver yourself to sit up. Akaashi tried to pretend not to notice you, but it was impossible when you snatched the extra spoon and the entire pint out of his hand in one fluid motion.

“Jesus, watch out for my fingers,” he mumbled, smirking at the glare you shot his way. But you only held the fake contempt until the first spoon of your favorite dessert hit your lips – then you were sighing and leaning your head against Akaashi’s shoulder.

He patted a hand on your knee, reaching over for a scoop of ice cream and chuckling when you blocked his spoon with yours. You tried to hide the ice cream from him, but his arms were long, and he easily snatched the pint back. 

“Hey!” you cried out, and Akaashi quickly conceded before you really took out a finger. 

“How’d you get home?” Akaashi asked, lifting his feet to rest them on the coffee table and leaning his head against yours.

“Kuroo walked me home,” you replied quietly.

“Good.”

Neither of you said another word as you let the quiet of the evening envelope you, not a single sound save for the occasional clashing of spoons when you both reached for another bite. He could feel you slowly ease beside him, the tension in your body melting away with each passing minute.

When the ice cream was finished, the empty pint decorated your table, along with two spoons haphazardly tossed, surrounded by splotches of melted cream that was sure to be a pain to clean. Your breathing was steady, and the time on the clock read ‘Akaashi is going to be exhausted in the morning’. 

He didn’t care, though. You hadn’t moved or spoken in a while now, and Akaashi was convinced you were already asleep. He already prepared himself to spend the night on the couch, your head on his shoulder and his body twisted in a way that was sure to make his back ache the next day. 

He was just seconds away from giving into sleep’s lovely tug when you broke the silence. 

“I saw him with…” you said, fiddling with the hem of your shirt and clearing your throat, “It was Hikari.”

Akaashi sighed, reaching a hand up to pat your head. 

“Are you okay?” he asked again, a pitiful question that he’s repeated to you countless times.

He waited for your usual answer – vehement denial that anything could be possibly wrong, an airy dismissal of his concerns, and a change in conversation so effortless, it almost makes Akaashi forget what he was saying to you in the first place.

This time, though – this time, a weighted silence followed his question, and you looped an arm around his, hugging him firmly.

“Not really,” you admitted softly. 

It was the first time Akaashi had ever heard you confess your heartache. It was always something that was unspoken, and seeing your crumpled face made Akaashi regret ever keeping things that way. He turned fully to wrap himself around you gently, and you gave yourself to his embrace. He’d only heard a sniffle or two, but he could feel the moisture slowly seeping into his t-shirt. It was a feeling that was achingly familiar. 

“Come on, now. Didn’t we say crying over boys was… I think your words were ‘so fucking embarrassing’,” Akaashi mumbled into your hair, smiling when he felt you chuckle against him. His stomach turned at the inadequacy of his words, but he had no idea what else to offer, so he simply offered himself. “I’m here for you, okay? Always.”

You pulled back for a moment to give him a watery smile. Akaashi wiped at your tear stained cheeks.

“Literally, your snot is dripping down to your mouth, and it’s disgusting.” 

Your laughter warmed Akaashi’s cheeks, smacking him on the shoulder before you stood up. You said nothing else as you stalked off into the darkness of your bedroom, not bothering to turn on any lights before shutting the door. 

A myriad of emotions swirled through Akaashi as he remained seated on the couch. Was there more that he could have said? Could have done? If he had stayed at the party, would he have been able to stop this from happening? Was it even any of his business to stop it? 

But Akaashi knows himself, and knows he would have said nothing if he saw Bokuto sneak away with Hikari. He would have done nothing except perhaps usher you to the other side of the house, using whatever means to keep you distracted. Even if he was there, all he could have done was spare you the knowledge of it – at least for one night. 

He couldn’t help but feel as if he failed you then – to be a good friend, a brother. Or maybe he’s failed you for years. You’d never see it that way, could never even fathom the notion of his failure, and somehow that thought bothers Akaashi more. 

Akaashi stood up and stalked to his own room. He shut the door and collapsed onto his bed, hatred pumping from his heart through his veins as he drifted off to sleep. 

It was that lingering hate he could still feel churning in his gut when he awoke the next morning that spurred him out of bed and scurrying into the living room. He had every intention of starting the day as a new man – one who didn’t allow his cowardice consume him, didn’t place the comfort of his wellbeing over the needs of those he loved. 

Those were the thoughts that ran through his mind, but his momentum halted instantly when he rounded the corner of the hallway, and saw you standing in the genkan. You looked like you had just rolled out of bed yourself, eyes swollen and still wearing the clothes from last night. Your hand rested on the doorknob, the front door wide open.

You turned to him as he approached, and gave him an almost pleading look. Akaashi only had to wonder why you were distressed for two seconds before Bokuto barrelled through the doorway, way too loudly and looking much too bright for the hour. 

Akaashi has seen this dance before. He’s seen it so many times, the sequence of it already playing out in his mind like a familiar melody. Bokuto comes in with a plan that sounded equal parts ridiculous and exhausting, dragging you out without even asking. Akkashi scoffed as you tried and failed to ward off Bokuto with pathetic excuses, but as usual he was having none of it. And both you and Akaashi knew better than to think you could win against Bokuto Kotaro. 

He stood aside while you flurried around the apartment like a blizzard storm, fighting the frown at how Bokuto stood in the foyer with his hands on his hips, a satisfied and smug look on his face. Bokuto turned to Akaashi as if he’d just noticed him for the first time, slapping him on the shoulder before asking, “Akaashi! Why do I feel like I didn’t even see you at all last night?”

It was an effort not to lift a hand and smack Bokuto in the back of the head right then and there. But thankfully, you came rushing out of your bedroom, hastily grabbing a pair of shoes from the genkan. You shot him one last apologetic glance, and you were out the door before he could even bid you goodbye. 

And there he stood – alone in the foyer of his own apartment, feeling like nothing more than a fly on the wall. 

A glance at the clock was the only thing that could have set him in motion, already running ten minutes later than he wanted to start his day. From the tornado named Bokuto that just passed, and the flurry in which Akaashi himself now dashed around, it seemed the apartment was destined to be chaotic. 

He was impatiently tapping his fingers on the kitchen counter, glaring at his coffee machine as if his sheer will would somehow make the brew drip faster, when there was another knock on the door. 

The day was already filled with chaos, but apparently also surprises, because the last person he expected to see on the other side of the threshold was Kuroo Tetsuro. 

The two boys blinked at each other for a second, Kuroo looking just as confused as Akaashi as to why he came to visit in the first place. Kuroo shifted his weight from one foot to the other with his hands tucked in his front pockets, offered Akaashi a nervous smile and a lukewarm attempt at small talk before finally asking if you were still asleep inside. 

Akaashi sighed as he delivered the unfortunate news that not only were you already awake, but were currently being dragged no doubt halfway across the city by none other than Kuroo’s very own roommate. 

“Do you guys not communicate or something,” Akaashi asked blandly, and Kuroo just shrugged.

“He wasn’t there when I got home last night, and he wasn’t there when I woke up this morning. What do you want from me?” 

Akaashi rolled his eyes, but he still widened the door for Kuroo to slip through, who only smiled at him sheepishly as he entered the apartment. Akaashi asked if he wanted some coffee, and Kuroo graciously accepted, slipping back into the easy, laid-back attitude that he’d always been known to wear. 

Content to leave Kuroo to his own devices, Akaashi darted back into his room to quickly change. When he emerged eight minutes later, fully clothed and his backpack dangling from his shoulder, Kuroo was filling up his thermos with coffee while Akaashi’s already sat waiting for him at the counter. 

Akaashi nodded his head in thanks, Kuroo handing him his cup as the two walked out of the apartment in tandem. He didn't say anything when Kuroo remained in step with him, chattering about his classes as they embarked on the twenty minute walk to campus. Didn’t even consider that it was a weekend, and Kuroo likely didn’t even have to head in this direction so early at all. 

Kuroo stayed with Akaashi as far as the library entrance, the latter almost entering the building before he finally had the frame of mind to wonder, “Wait, so why’d you stop by the apartment today?” Akaashi looked over his shoulder and adjusted his bag a bit higher, “Sorry, I was too distracted by… everything. Did you need something?”

Kuroo chuckled almost guiltily, a crooked smile on his lips. He rubbed at the back of his neck, looking everywhere but at Akaashi as if he was debating whether he wanted to tell him the truth. 

“Oh, ha,” Kuroo breathed out, shaking his head slightly, “No, I was just – I mean, y/n looked pretty out of it last night. And I was about to,” Kuroo cleared his throat and adjusted his shirt, “I was heading to that cafe – you know, the one in front of that seven eleven? – and I thought I’d check in to see if she was alive.”

Akaashi’s eyes softened in understanding, pressing his lips into a thin line and nodding his head once as he turned to face Kuroo fully and offered him half a smile.

“Thanks for taking her home last night, by the way,” said Akaashi, “She’s lucky you were still at the party.”

Kuroo let out a breathy laugh and shook his head. He takes a strap of his own backpack off his shoulder and flips it to the front, holding it against his chest as he hastily pulls open the zipper.

“Yeah, it was just good timing,” Kuroo replied while he continued to dig through his backpack. He eventually pulls out a few red packets and hands them to Akaashi, “Here. It’s red ginseng. I’m not sure how long you’re planning to be here, but it should help you get through the day.” 

Akaashi examined the red packets in his hand, almost pouting with appreciation to Kuroo. But when he lifted his head, Kuroo was already walking across the courtyard.

“Make sure to give one of those to y/n when you see her!” He yelled over his shoulder, waving at Akaashi one last time before taking off. 

Akaashi did eat the red ginseng, and it did help him get through the seven hours he had spent in the library that day. And he never thought twice about Kuroo’s impromptu visit to his apartment that morning, nor did he think twice about being escorted to the library despite the cafe Kuroo mentioned being on the complete opposite side of campus. 

Because that was just Kuroo – Akaashi had never known him to be any other way. The very definition of all bark no bite, the kind of man that would tease you relentlessly for a stain on your pants, then take you to a store to buy you a new pair. 

Though Kuroo may have been closer to Bokuto, Akaashi had a tremendous amount of respect for the man, and would probably even go so far as to say Kuroo was also one of his closest friends. 

And when Hikari started to prove herself a new fixture, and Bokuto’s absence became more frequent, Akaashi was appreciative of Kuroo’s steady presence – still showing up to the study sessions, and coming over to watch volleyball games on Akaashi’s “much nicer TV”, and grabbing hot ramen and a cold beer after a particularly stressful test. 

He was acting as the Kuroo Tetsuro he’d always been, and it was that semblance of normalcy that Kuroo effortlessly provided, without anyone asking him to, nor any expectations from anyone else – like a lighthouse in the middle of a raging storm, Akaashi knows it was Kuroo that brought them safely to harbor. 

Because Akaashi was waiting for it. Ever since that day you had come home from your outing with Bokuto, dragging your feet through the door, looking like someone had just ripped the world out from beneath your feet, he had been waiting. For the other shoe to drop, for the inevitable descent into madness - at least your version of it. 

He felt prepared for it in a way, felt ready. He was no longer going to pretend to believe your fake smiles and reassurances that you were fine while you locked yourself in your room days at a time, and he wasn’t going to let you throw yourself so hard into your studies that you forget to eat. 

Akaashi felt things would be different this time around. He’d make sure of it. So he waited for the moment your mask would fall, and prepared himself to catch the pieces.

But the moment never came. 

Don’t misunderstand. It’s not as if Akaashi wanted to see you have a mental breakdown for the eighth time in as many years, and he certainly didn’t want to watch you retreat into a shell of yourself as you attempt to reconcile your new reality with your broken fantasies. 

Akaashi can see it in your face sometimes, even though you try your hardest to hide it. The exhaustion beneath your red-rimmed eyes, the very slight downturn of your lips when you thought no one was paying attention, and the tiredness in your slumped shoulders, as if you’ve been carrying a mountain on your shoulders. 

Still, you always made sure to take care of everybody, and you did it for so long. Akaashi didn’t want to admit to being part of the guilty party, but he had just been as willing to take everything you gave, and believed when you said you needed nothing in return. 

It was shameful, and a little bit more than selfish, but a small part of him wanted this chance. To prove himself a worthy friend, that he could take care of the people that mattered to him the most. He almost hated himself for it, for using your suffering as an opening, but he wanted to make up for all the lost opportunities, for the pain his silence might have caused. 

It was his turn to take care of you, and he was ready to do a damn good job.

Except, you were fine. 

He was thankful, if not a little thrown off by the lack of a depressive episode. But thankful, nonetheless. 

More than thankful, though, he was curious. Bokuto was becoming increasingly absent, flaking on plans and ignoring phone calls. Akaashi had never seen him be so serious about a girl, and even he was feeling annoyed about being left in the proverbial dust. Akaashi had imagined you’d be a little more… upset.

He hadn’t noticed any particular changes. Your routine hardly deviated, aside from the occasional dinners or drinks at the bar with him and Kuroo – if you were not in class you were at work, if you weren’t at work you were home, and if you weren’t home you were in class. For a short while, Akaashi felt like he had been living with a ghost, just going through the motions until the sun set and rose again for the new day. 

Sometimes, though, he’d find you on the balcony, sitting on the matching chairs Bokuto’s sisters bought for you when the two of you had first moved in. A mug of coffee or tea would be in your hands, the liquid looking as if it had long gone cold. You wouldn’t acknowledge Akaashi whenever he’d step outside to join you. Say nothing as he sits in the vacant seat beside you, staring only out into the blinking lights of the city. 

When you were this way, Akaashi knew better than to try and bother you to speak. Your mind was eons away, in a world where Akaashi had never been and would never get to see. So he settled himself to sit beside you silently, until you were ready to climb back down from wherever you wandered off to.   

But even those days became few and far in between. 

It was something that confused him, like he’d been following a trail of crumbs laid before him, yet had no idea where it would lead him to. 

That was, until he walked up to Study room 201 for the usual Tuesday evening session. On a normal day he would simply barge into the room without a thought as to who was already in there or if they were in the middle of anything important. But there was a tug in his chest that halted him in front of the narrow, rectangular window cut-out of the sliding door. He was still as he peeked through the glass, and something clicked so loudly in his brain, his eardrums nearly burst. 

Because Study Room 201 was already a mess of textbooks and papers, prohibited snacks and drinks littered the conference table, and Kuroo Tetsuro was sitting next to you. 

You were leaning over as you read something on his laptop screen, and Kuroo slightly leaned back to give you some room. Your eyes were roving over the screen quickly, faster than any normal person should be reading. Then you frowned at something, your finger pointing at certain spots as you explained his mistakes. 

It seemed like you were ripping into Kuroo’s essay or project or whatever it was he was having you read over, your mouth running off into a seemingly endless tangent of all the things he could have done differently. If it was Akaashi in that situation, his head would probably feel so hot from how irritating your voice surely would have sounded in his ears. He might have shoved you away altogether. 

Yet, there was Kuroo Tetsuro, sitting in the seat Akaashi had only ever seen one other person sit in, staring at you as he tried but failed desperately to hide the smile on his face. You turned just as Kuroo’s smile bubbled into a chuckle, and you smacked your pen so hard on his head, Akaashi was afraid he might start bleeding. 

Kuroo’s chuckle turned into complete laughter, loud and obnoxious and infectious, it was only a matter of seconds until you dissolved into a fit of giggles yourself. 

Neither of you paid him much attention when Akaashi finally decided to open the door. In fact, it seemed as if you hadn’t noticed him at all, despite nearly slamming the door in his haste to enter. Akaashi settled into the seat across from you, as he’s always done, and a small part of him wondered if Kuroo might move back into his usual seat beside him now that Akaashi has entered the picture.

He didn’t. He simply smiled at Akaashi and asked him if he’d like a turn to criticize his work. Of course, Akaashi agreed and thoroughly enjoyed tearing down Kuroo’s perfectly good thesis if only because it made both of you laugh. 

Akaashi felt incredibly stupid for not seeing it before, and now that he has, he doesn’t understand how he could have possibly missed it. He stared at the man beside you now, sneaking grapes onto your laptop to get you to eat and wordlessly walking down the hall to fill your water bottle and filling in the seat Akaashi never braved to fill, and the revelations pour over him like a waterfall, loud and rumbling and serene all at once. 

He’s glad it was Kuroo. 

It was a little painful, though. Not a heartbreak, nor a pang of jealousy, but there was an ache that took hold in his body all the same. And he hated that selfish part of him that was hurt – wishing it was him that could have helped you heal.

But it wasn’t him, and he’s glad it was Kuroo. 

Whatever sort of pain or shame or guilt that he was torturing himself with was quickly eased away by the sound of your muffled laughter through the apartment walls during late night phone calls, the color that was beginning to return to your cheeks, and the light that had finally returned in your eyes.

In those following months, you stopped locking yourself in your room, stopped losing yourself in the city lights on that cold, empty balcony. And more than once has Akaashi come home to find you and Kuroo splayed across the living room, either giggling over something playing on the TV screen with beer cans littered across his coffee table, or sitting beside each other in comfortable silence while you both worked or studied.

One way or another, Akaashi would get roped into whatever it was you were doing with Kuroo. And he’ll complain, berate you two for wasting his time on nonsense and tomfoolery, but it was those moments that provided him with a sharp clarity, like he finally has all the pieces he needed for this puzzle. 

Akaashi may have been just a man on the outside looking in, but the picture that Kuroo had built with you – for you – was more beautiful and warm than Akaashi had ever thought to imagine. And whether you realized it or not, you now went about your days with a permanent smile on your lips and a lightness in the air about you that Akaashi had not felt in years. 

It had filled him with something he didn’t even know he had been missing, as if his lungs were finally taking their first gulp of air after so long underwater. The brightness you started to exude felt as warm and refreshing as summer’s first rays of sun, and Akaashi finally lets himself relax. 

Because Kuroo – that son of a bitch, Akaashi could kiss him in the mouth – he had taken the pieces of you that were scattered across the dirty floor, and he’s put together every single shard until you were nearly whole again. He had breathed an entirely new life into you, a mosaic of all the things you thought you couldn’t handle, brought back to make you stronger. You were almost unrecognizable. 

But people don’t change so easily, and some habits are ingrained into your bones. Akaashi could already see the beginnings of it. The self-doubt, the fear, overthinking your every word and action. Often, Akaashi felt as if he could hear your thoughts from across the room, his throat constricting as they wrapped around him like a noose. 

He didn’t want things to be the same, he told himself. Things were going to be different this time. He’d said it like a mantra over and over again, and now was the time for him to put his money where his mouth was. 

And one day, Akaashi was in the kitchen making his usual cup of coffee, you came bouncing – no, literally, you were bouncing – out of your room with just about the goofiest smile he’d ever seen on your face, and it was all the push he needed to step over the line.

He allowed himself that bit of courage, something he’d spent years shoving to the back of his mind, smothered by his own hands.

“Excited for your date?”

“It’s not a date!”

“Would it be so bad if it was?I mean look at you, you’re smiling like an idiot.” 

For one, glorious, precious second, Akaashi thought that things would finally work out. The gears started spinning your head, and even though you glared at him, Akaashi could already see a sparkle in your eye, and a hint of smile you tried to hide.

“You know what, Keiji, I’m getting sick of you –”

And it only took three knocks for everything to come toppling down. 

The not-so-serendipitous entrance of Bokuto Koutaro was usually accepted with open arms, and an exasperated sigh that wasn’t actually exasperated but a little excited to see what he’s got planned for the day.

But that day, the sight of his streaked hair made Akaashi’s stomach drop to the floor, and hearing the way he spoke to you only made Akaashi see red. 

He almost didn’t register the slam of his front door, the blood roaring in his ears too loudly for him to hear your heated exchange. He couldn’t even bring himself to feel sorry for his best friend, pouting like a child whose favorite toy was just ripped from his hand. 

Akaashi knew, deep down somewhere in a dusty corner of his heart, that Bokuto didn’t mean any harm. He might have even thought he came here with the best of intentions, that maybe he was trying to be a good friend. And maybe that’s what irritates Akaashi even more, the complete lack of self-awareness, and the obliviousness to those around him – perfectly content with staying inside his own Bokuto-powered bubble. 

Irritated, yes. Still, Akaashi couldn’t bring himself to be truly vexed. Not when Bokuto looked just as confused and distraught. Akaashi didn't know what he was thinking, or perhaps he wasn’t even thinking at all, but he couldn’t stop himself. But the worst part of it was, he didn’t want to. Because you were finally letting yourself be happy, and he wasn’t going to let Bokuto ruin it. 

“She’s finally moving on. You shouldn’t do anything to mess that up.”

“Just leave it alone, Bokuto-san. Before anyone gets hurt.”

By the time he was finished, the flames of anger Akaashi felt just moments prior had completely died, and he was left with nothing but a taste of smoke and ash on his tongue. He spoke the words a lot more calmly than he felt, a familiar sense of sympathy creeping over his heart yet again.

Because the look on Bokuto’s face was one Akaashi had seen before, but never on him. A mix of shock and confusion, topped off with a hint of anguish and regret. It looked sad enough on you, but on Bokuto, it was heartbreaking.

So he truly didn’t know. Akaashi’s not sure if it made him feel better or worse. He just knew he was finished with this game, and although he couldn’t really understand the gravity of what he’d just done, he didn’t regret it. When Bokuto silently nodded and left his apartment, he felt only relief.

There was an eerie calm that settled in the wake of Bokuto’s departure. You came back from your date-not-date with Kuroo in infinitely better spirits than when you left, back to skipping around the apartment while humming a tune only you could hear, and the morning’s debacle was already long forgotten. 

Kuroo, unsurprisingly, became quite determined to attach himself to your hip, with a new sense of comfort and a different sort of tension that Akaashi didn’t feel like addressing. It seemed the encounter with Bokuto had added fuel to more than one fire, and if Kuroo was trying to hide his feelings before, he wasn’t bothering to do so now. Akaashi’s caught the way Kuroo looks at you more than once, and it’s even given him butterflies more than he cared to admit. 

Bokuto eventually apologized, and he’d even started bringing Hikari around more. She really was a sweet girl, clearly putting in the effort to get to know Bokuto’s friends. She even desperately tried to ignore Bokuto’s longing looks at a certain blossoming couple, and Akaashi wished he had the capacity to care just a little bit more about the poor girl Bokuto dragged into the tangled web of his heart. 

Alas, he was too busy preparing for the storm.

Akaashi had always been an overthinker. It’s in his nature, something inherent in him that he could never shake no matter how hard he tried. Or it could be the result of his younger days hiding behind his fear, maybe it was something he never actually got over. Akaashi doesn’t know. He doesn’t think he knows much of anything these days. 

His useless mind was only searching for ways he could have prevented this. If he pushed you about your feelings earlier, would you have ended up with Bokuto instead of Kuroo? Would it have been the two of you laughing and dancing, pouring honey in each others’ ear in a crowded room like no one was watching? 

If not for Akaashi, would Bokuto have ever even realized you were in love with him? Were it not for him, would it have eaten away at Bokuto’s very heart until he attacked his own best friend? Akaashi should have kept his mouth shut. If he did, then maybe you might have actually allowed yourself to enjoy being with Kuroo, to let him romance you in the way he’s been aching to do, to let yourself fall in the way you’ve been afraid to for so long. 

And if he did, then maybe he wouldn’t have found Bokuto’s white-knuckled fists gripping Kuroo’s shirt in the middle of a stunned crowd, drenched in sticky alcohol and hair in disarray while you were crying in the corner. Hikari wouldn’t have been sobbing in the back of a dirty taxi, fighting the bile rising in her throat from the betrayal of the one meant to love her most.

He wouldn’t have had to drag you home, too stunned into silence to fight him. He was thankful for that, because he knows that if you had seen the look on Kuroo’s face as everyone he loved left him soaked, eyes stinging, and alone… Akaashi would have deserved that punch you’d throw in his face. 

There were a plethora of things he wished he said, things he could have done. They played through his mind like an endless reel of maybes and what ifs and would haves over and over again as if determined to drive him insane.

He’s not sure what to do now. He’s not sure if he should even do anything. He was tired, he hadn't eaten in at least twenty seven hours, and when he looked in the mirror that morning, he cringed at the deep purple color that encircled his eyes. 

The coffee maker beeped loudly, and Akaashi mindlessly grabbed his mug from the cabinet. His eyes were unfocused, relying on his muscle memory to grab the oat milk creamer from the fridge and mixing in his preferred amount of sugar. 

The morning was calm, a stark contrast from the evening before, and Akaashi’s been awake for a lot longer than he’d care to admit. He stirred his spoon in circles, watching the whorls of milk blend into inky water. This was his fourth cup. Four times he’s brewed a fresh pot, hoping to have one ready for you once you step out of your room. Four times the coffee had turned cold, and he watched it swirl against the steel of his sink as he poured it down the drain. Four times he’s walked to the counter to brew a fresh pot again. 

He winced when he took a sip, coffee burning his tongue, like one last insult to his injuries. By now, he’s already used up more than half the bag of coffee beans you brought home from work just the other day. He hated being wasteful. He hated drinking more than one cup before he could even eat his breakfast. He hated waiting for you alone with nothing but the sugar granules littering his dining table to keep him company. 

He hated the silence in his apartment. He hated the 53 missed calls on his phone from Kuroo and Bokuto. He hated that he was the one who sent Bokuto into a downward spiral. He hated every single face that did nothing but gawked with their phones out while two men – who had never so much as raised their voices at each other  – looked like they were two seconds away from ripping each other's throat out.  

He hated everything.

But he would still do it all over again. Let the fire he had unknowingly started burn their slate clean. If it means peace, if it means freedom from the cage they built around themselves… then he’d do it all over again, for his friends. 

And once it grows cold, Akaashi will brew another pitcher of coffee. He will make himself another cup. 

And he will sit in this chair, and he will wait until he sees you walking out that door. 

The sun was nearing its peak when you finally woke up. 

You cursed yourself for forgetting to draw all your curtains last night, and you squinted against the harsh rays of sun now beating down on your face.

It was an effort to open your eyes. There was crust lining your waterline, stinging your lashes when you tried to flutter them open. Your lids still felt heavy and swollen, and you barely won the battle of keeping them open. 

Your head was throbbing, so loudly that it was the only thing you could hear. You dig into your temples with the heel of your palm, groaning as you positioned yourself to sit up. You run your hands along the rumpled sheets until your fingers hit something hard. You dig through a little more, closing your eyes and bracing yourself as you grab your phone. 

Dead. Only a black screen stared back, no matter how many times you pressed the buttons. You tossed the phone back on the mattress just as you flopped yourself back down, the both of you landing on the sheets like a useless brick.

You should probably charge the damn thing, but you couldn’t bring yourself to disturb the morning’s peace just yet. You doubt you’d find another moment of it the second you get out of this bed. 

Instead, you bury your fingers into your own hair, twisting your body around until your face is buried in your pillow, and you fight the urge to scream into it, too worried that the extra strain might actually cause you to hurl your guts out.  

Not yet. 

You burrowed even deeper into your sheets, wrapping the blankets around yourself until you were nothing more than a cocoon of self-preservation. Because you weren’t ready to face it. The betrayal you were unknowingly the center of, the years of friendship that was splintered in a matter of seconds, the broken hearts of the people you cherished the most. You weren’t ready to face any of it. Not yet.

As if the cowardly admission was some sort of key, memories began to flood through wide open gates in your head, soaking you all over again with sticky alcohol and salty tears. You tried to push it back, tried to cover yourself, like holding an umbrella in a hurricane. But the waves of memory overpowered you, knocking you off your feet each time you remembered Kuroo’s wide-eyed, vacant look as he watched Akaashi haul you away. 

Kuroo. 

Tetsuro.

Even a mere whisper of his name still sends shocks through your nerves, makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand straight. The thought of him consumed you so easily, so wholly, like he was a blanket of calm that smothered all your raging thoughts until there was only him. Everything about him made you so dizzy, light headed and out of breath.

Every time you hear his voice, so rich and creamy, it coats all over you like something luxurious on your skin. Forcing yourself to pretend that you’re not breathing in his scent whenever he’s near, pretend that cedar and smoke and warm amber don’t haunt your dreams – it was a tremendous effort on your part to keep yourself sane, to keep yourself from free-falling into the rabbit hole that was Kuroo Tetsuro. 

But last night… You could have dreamt all you wanted about what it would be like to have him look at you with shaky breaths and dilated pupils and ask if he could kiss you, and it still wouldn’t have amounted to anything close to actually having him in front of you. It made you want to laugh almost as much as it made you want to cry, because of course Kuroo Tetsuro could make reality surpass fantasy. 

You wished the memories could have stopped there, that your night ended with the only kiss that has ever made you feel like you were in the clouds.

But fate was almost as cruel as life. 

It was difficult to explain how it felt, for everything to finally click into place while also spiraling into confusion. 

You understood with painful clarity why Hikari hated you, why she acted like you were a pebble in her shoe, and looked at you as if your very existence was an eyesore. You remembered that fight with Bokuto, and the tension that never went away even after the two of you reconciled – all the times Bokuto’s mood would plummet at the mere mention Kuroo, each time you ignored the frustrated glances he threw towards the both of you, hoping you were simply imagining things.

Because what reason could Bokuto possibly have to act that way? You thought about it over and over, and could never come up with an adequate conclusion. 

Now, your willful ignorance has finally come to pay its retribution, a sort of cosmic joke that you were sure some powers above found absolutely hilarious – because Bokuto Kotaro was in love with you. In love. With you. Has been, apparently, for … you didn’t even want to think of how long, couldn’t comprehend the implication of his confession.

A confession that you vividly remember praying for, words that your heart has longed for and ached to hear. Cried for in the silent void of your bedroom, hoped for in your fractured soul, because for so long, you waited, even just for a sliver for a chance for Bokuto to actually see you as more than a friend, more than just the overbearing manager who followed him to college. 

It almost kills you to know that he was waiting for the same thing. 

For a moment, you envisioned it. The life you could have had with Bokuto – walking around campus tucked beneath his arm, registering for classes that fit each other’s schedule, wearing his jersey when you watch his games. Maybe you would have joined the team as a manager, and there wouldn’t have been a second you wouldn’t spend together. Bokuto probably wouldn’t have even waited for the first year to end before convincing you to move in with him. The apartment would have been small, but he wouldn’t ever miss a single dinner together. 

Every morning, you’d wake up to an empty bedroom, but by the time you prepared two steaming mugs of coffee, Bokuto would have already returned from his morning run. He’d kiss you and embrace you, and you’d get ready for the day together, leave your home together, and come home together.

Grief is peppered through every thought like weeds, mourning for the time lost and each memory that never happened. It would have been a beautiful life together. It would have been filled with love, laughter, and happiness so bright, just imagining it made your eyes burn. 

The smell of fresh coffee permeated through the musty, stale air of your bedroom. You could almost see the trail of the scent wafting through the open seams of your door, snaking through the smog until it wrapped around you like a warm embrace. It beckoned you like a familiar friend, so enticing that it actually spurred you to sit back up. 

Suddenly, you felt your stomach grumble and the dryness in your mouth felt like ash, as if the smell of arabica beans was that first fallen domino that had all your issues tumbling into each other. You ignored the rush of nausea churning in your stomach that had nothing to do with the amount of alcohol you drank last night, and swung your legs over the side of your bed, feet absently shuffling against the wooden floor until they found your slippers. 

You stifled a groan as you stood, and dragged your feet across the room slowly. You snatched the thin robe you kept hung over your computer chair, and wrapped it tightly around your body, taking a deep breath as you closed your fingers around the door knob and twisted it open. 

You nearly choked on the wave of aroma that rushed at you so fast, you might have thought you were stepping into an actual roastery instead of your own living room. You half expected to see Akaashi standing over a heated pan, vigorously stirring beans until they turned brown – or however the hell one would roast coffee, you seriously had no idea. 

Instead, you found him standing in front of the coffee maker you bought for him two Christmases ago, hands on his hips and foot tapping on the floor. The machine was bubbling and hissing as the coffee dripped slowly into the pot, and the counter was an abhorrent mess that you’ve quite literally never seen Akaashi make in the entire time you’ve lived with him. 

“Did you open up some sort of… cafe in our apartment that I wasn’t aware of,” You tried to keep your voice light and playful, but the words scratched at your throat, and they came out sounding tired and rough.

Akaashi could have broken his neck with the speed he turned around, shooting an arm out to catch himself on the counter when his momentum threatened to hurtle his body too far. He regarded you with wide, tired eyes, coffee staining his shirt in four different places, and you had a strange feeling that if you reached up and tried to run your fingers through his hair, you would find a bird’s egg nestled somewhere deep within. He looked – and you were putting this nicely – like absolute shit. 

You tried to smile, and his gaze immediately softened, lips coming together into a tight line. And you regretted any previous thoughts you might have had about the malnourished vibe he was putting down., because the pathetic way he looked at you definitely said that you looked about a million times worse. 

“I thought I’d give it a try,” he said softly, crossing his arms as he leaned against the counter, “It can’t be that hard, can it? Especially with an experienced barista in the vicinity.”

You clicked your tongue, and gave Akaashi a mocking glare, “You wouldn’t be able to afford my skills and services.”

Akaashi brought a finger up to his lip in faux-thought, and you felt your heart flutter when he opened his arms wide, “I can pay with warm, comforting, and gentle embraces?”

You shook your head, and your slippers slapped against the wooden floor as you hurriedly made your way across the room and crashed into Akaashi’s arms.

“Can’t you be normal and just call it a hug?” Your voice was muffled against his chest, “Who the hell calls it an embrace these days?”

He pulled you against him even tighter, “Literary geniuses, that’s who.”

A chuckle softly escaped from your lips and vibrated against Akaashi’s chest, and it felt like a tether had been snapped. Even more giggles tumbled out, and the fact that Akaashi was not laughing somehow made it even more funnier – made what funnier, you actually had no idea, though at this point you could hear how unhinged your laughter actually sounded. But you couldn’t hold it back, and you laughed until your belly ached, and tears formed on the corners of your eyes. 

You laughed until the laughter felt like acid burning up your throat, and the tightness of it made it difficult to breathe. The tears that pooled in your eyes now flowed freely down your cheeks, and there was no stopping it then, not when you choked out a sob, clutched at the fabric of Akaashi’s shirt and cried. While Akaashi rested one hand on the back of your head, and stroked small circles around your back with the other, you wept and you cried. Cried and cried and cried. 

Whatever restraint you’d been keeping against your heart was undone by the strength of Akaashi’s arms around you, and knowing that he was there to hold you together… it was enough to have you falling apart.

You don’t know how long the two of you stood in that kitchen for. It could have been a few minutes. It could have been a few hours. Akaashi didn’t falter, didn’t move a single inch. Through each shuddering sob, every heaving gasp for air, Akaashi had stayed. He waited until the shaking subsided, and your breathing evened out, and there was not a single tear left to cry. 

You weren’t sure how much time had passed before you peeled yourself away from his embrace, wiping your entire face with the sleeve of your robe. You backed another step, and Akaashi met your swollen, red eyes with his own sunken, tired ones. He tried to smile at you, and tried extremely hard to seem like he wasn’t uncomfortable in his soaked shirt.

“Go change out of that thing,” you said by way of apology, cringing at the mess you’d left behind, “Please.”

For a second, you thought Akaashi might have argued with you. But then his eyes switched from you to the hallway then back again, before he nodded and darted to the direction of his bedroom. You breathed out a laugh and walked to the counter, grabbing a towel from beside the sink and wiping away the coffee grounds that dirtied your usually-immaculate kitchen. 

You were sweeping up the stray flecks that littered the floor when Akaashi came barrelling back into the kitchen. Before he said a single word, he snatched the broom violently from your hand.

“Hey, I was –”

You couldn’t finish your sentence, not when Akaashi practically shoves you into a seat at the dining table. 

“Stay,” he pointed a finger at you, and you quickly swallowed back the snarky comment you were prepared to throw out. Your eyes just silently followed Akaashi as he fussed around the kitchen, mopping the rest of the floor and shaking his head at you when he realized you’d already cleaned the counters. 

He grabbed your favorite mug – drying on the dish rack like it had just been washed after use – then turned to make you a cup of coffee. But when he touched the top of his fingers to the glass body of the pitcher, he frowned. Deeply. 

“What’s wrong?” you asked.

“The coffee got cold again,” he grumbled, making you shoot out of your seat and scramble towards him when he yanked the decanter off the hot plate and headed to the sink.

“Stop!” you practically screeched, just barely making it in time to grip his wrist before he could fully pour the contents down the drain. “What the hell are you doing?” 

Akaashi just stared. “It’s cold now.”

“So?!” you looked at him like the roles have now been completely reversed, “We can just microwave it or something. You don’t need to throw the whole thing out.” You tried to pry the pitcher out of Akaashi’s hand, but he clutched on tightly.

“I wanted you to have fresh coffee,” he said simply, and you gaped. You looked at him for a second longer before your eyes flick back to the counter that you just cleaned up, and realization washed over you like a gentle shower. 

“Did you –” you paused for a second, unsure of how you were going to deal with this situation, “Have you been making a new pot of coffee each time it went cold?” 

Akaashi opened his mouth as if to speak, but quickly clamped his lips down to press them into a thin line. You managed to grab the pitcher from Akaashi with no resistance, and rushed to place it back into its proper place on the machine. In your peripherals, you could see a crinkled bag, folded in half and tucked in a corner behind the coffee maker. 

“Is that…” you mumbled to yourself before quickly snatching the nearly empty bag from its hiding place, “Keiji!”

He winced slightly when you presented him with the evidence, coffee beans flying astray when you shake the bag in Akaashi’s face.

“I just got this bag, Keiji!” you groaned, lamenting the gallons of your favorite roast undoubtedly swirling through the drainpipes of Tokyo by now. You peeked into the bag, frowning when you saw that only about a fourth of the bag had been saved, “Now I have to wait until next month for the cafe to give me a free one.”

“I wanted you to have –”

“Fresh coffee. I got it,”  you sighed, placing two hands on each of Akaashi’s shoulders. Again, he showed no resistance when  you pushed him backwards and sat him on your empty chair. He opened his mouth to argue when you grabbed two mugs and poured in the cold coffee, but the glare you shot him was enough to make him shut it. You ignored his searing gaze as it trailed after your every movement, ignored it burning holes in your back while you microwaved the two mugs of coffee, ignored the burn in your throat at the pathetic way he watched you place one mug in front of him, and held the other as you took the empty seat across from him.

You gestured silently to the mug of coffee.

“Drink,” you ordered, and the word made Akaashi instantly grab the handle, “There’s only room for one mental breakdown in this apartment at a time. And I call dibs for today, okay?”

Akaashi couldn’t stop the laughter that broke free, and you couldn’t help but smile at the exasperated way he shook his head. When the two of you lifted your mugs, your eyes met for just a moment, and the smile you shared with your best friend might have been enough to heal your heart. 

Then, you took a sip of the coffee, and the moment the dark liquid hit your tongue, you had to fight the cringe, and pretend that the way he burnt this batch didn’t break your heart all over again.

“That’s…” you begin, searching for the words. You coughed instead of finishing your sentence.

Akaashi simply sighed. He reached a hand in his pocket, and pulled out his phone.

“What are you doing?” you asked, watching him slowly slide his fingers up and down the screen. 

He gives you a pointed look. “What’s it look like? I’m getting breakfast delivered.”

The sun looked just about ready to set by the time you and Akaashi decided to settle down. Empty take out boxes were piled in the proper compartments of the trash bin, and neither of you have bothered to clean up the crumbs all over the table. 

Breakfast had passed by silently, the both of you just content to be in each other’s presence, still sniffling as you shoved entire forkfuls of souffle pancakes from your favorite bakery. You shrieked with delight when you recognized the logo on the bag Akaashi retrieved from the delivery man. You didn’t even scold him for the insane delivery fee he probably had to pay for them to bring it all the way here. 

You just crushed him in a tight hug and accepted his kindness with a kiss on the cheek. He sighed in the way you imagined an older brother would about his annoying little sister, despite you being an entire year older. It made you chuckle, especially when he let you break his very strict “no eating in the living room” rule. 

If Akaashi had any questions or concerns about the events that transpired last night, he mercifully kept them all to himself. After breakfast, he dug out the kotatsu blanket from the storage closet, and – after screeching to Akaashi that he was banned from making any beverages for at least a month – you brewed some of his favorite green tea.

You laid under that kotatsu with Akaashi for hours, sipping on tea that had long turned lukewarm, talking about things that were of neither importance or relevance. You wasted away the entire day, it seemed, if the setting sun and ombre skies out the windows were of any indication. 

Akaashi sat across from you, his back leaning against the foot of the couch. The kotatsu blanket reached up to his waist, and his head lolled lazily to the side as he scrolled mindlessly through his phone. You’d long thrown propriety out the window, though it never is in the room when you’re with Akaashi. You managed to snuggle yourself completely under the kotatsu table, the blanket skirt covering your body while using your seat cushion as a pillow. 

Akaashi had gone through tremendous effort to make this day feel as casual as last week’s Sunday morning. You had a niggling feeling that if you let him, then Akaashi would be very content in keeping you inside this bubble of safety and comfort that he’s curated specifically for you. He’d keep the problems that were waiting past these four walls at bay for as long as he possibly could. This, you knew without a shred of doubt. 

It was a kindness that you held closely to your heart. One that you knew was the type of kindness that didn’t boast, but wrapped itself around you gently and held you against its chest. The longer you looked at Akaashi, rubbing his finger against his nose and eyes glued to the screen, the more your heart swelled with that affection he generously poured into your cup. 

And you knew that because he’s loved you enough to create this bubble, you had to love him enough to pop yourself both out of it. 

“Keiji,” your voice felt hoarse from the silence, the words scratching at your throat, “Was I really that blind?”

Akaashi stilled almost imperceptibly, if you hadn’t known him for years, you probably would have missed it. He clicks the button on the side of his phone, and he gently places the black device on the table. He shuffles to move his seat cushion from beneath him and tosses it to the side, settling himself beneath the blanket before laying down to face you. 

“You weren’t blind, y/n.”

He said it so gently, probably worried that if he spoke any louder, then you would shatter. It softens your heart as much as it sends a spike of irritation through you.

“Dumb, then? Oblivious? Stupid? Naive? Either way you spin it, it still comes down to my faults, my…” your voice cracks, the traitorous thing, and you stopped to clear your throat, “What word would you use, then, Keiji?”

“Young. Afraid. Hurt,” He says with a lot more force and clarity than you expected, each word striking directly into your heart, “A whole lot of other words before stupid, actually. An entire dictionary’s worth.”

You wanted to wipe that look off his face, really. Eyes misting his usual blue to a foggy gray, and failing to stop his wretched mouth from quivering. How many more people in your life were you going to hurt? You felt pathetic.

You stay silent for a moment before starting, “Bokuto… he must have also been in a lot of pain,” you sighed, turning to supine and training your eyes to the popcorned ceiling, “Everything’s so… fucked up. And it’s all because of me and my stupid ignorance and –”

“Please, stop saying that,” Akaashi groaned loudly, balling a fist into his own hair. 

Exasperation floods through you like a tidal wave, it crashes through you viciously and your body shoots itself up into a sitting position before you could even think. You couldn’t hold back the glare at Akaashi before asking him with a bite, “Well, what do you want me to say?”

“I don’t know,” Akaashi answers with a growl, maneuvering himself up to face you, his fists landing helplessly on the table, “but please, stop saying stuff like that, not when–” Akaashi sighed, bring two fingers up to pinch the bridge of his nose, “I knew about everything for… a long time.”

You shrugged carelessly as you replied, “Well, yeah. I know I never actually told you, but I thought you figured it out after… the equipment room incident.”

Akaashi pursed his lips together. “Oh, I did. But I wasn’t talking about just you.”

Your eyebrows lifted, opting to stay silent. Akaashi nibbled at his bottom lip in hesitancy, allowing him the time to process through whatever he clearly wanted to say. You brace yourself when you see him taking a slow, deep breath.

“With you, it was… so fucking obvious. And it wasn’t just because you followed him around, or laughed obnoxiously loud at his dumb jokes. If anybody looked at you for longer than five seconds, they’d see it on your face – clear as day. You looked at him like… I don’t know. Like he made all the flowers bloom, or painted the sunset with your favorite colors or something poetic like that.”

“That sounded pretty poetic to me,” you laugh, though it sounded hollow and despondent in its attempt to hide the gut punch Akaashi’s words delivered. Akaashi smiled ruefully, but he continued. 

“My point is – you never had to tell me. I knew it. You knew it. We all knew it. Your feelings were never the big secret you thought it was. Bokuto might have been the only person in this world that never picked up on it. And actually, there was a point in time when I genuinely thought he was ignoring them on purpose. Fuck, maybe he did. I never really figured it out. I don’t really think he ever did either. Because with Bokuto…”

Akaashi took the deep breath you’ve been holding the entire time he spoke, and he looked directly at you this time as he spoke.

“I knew he loved you. He loved you, maybe a bit more than he knew what to do with. God, if you only saw how he’d glare at any guy that tried to even look at you. They were ridiculous – hilariously vicious. He always did it behind your back, but it was about as subtle as a flashing neon sign. I don’t know how you never caught him.You followed him around, sure, but he made sure he kept you by his side, never letting you stray too far from him. Because if you weren’t next to him, then he was… lost. It’s stupid but– yeah, I think I knew he loved you, even before he knew it himself. And I could have told him. Should have told him. It would have been easy, quick – ‘Bokuto, Y/N is in love with you’. And he would have gone running. Well, nevermind. It might have taken him a couple days, but when it hit him… I don’t think anything in the world could have stopped him.”

Silver streaks on Akaashi’s face matched the warm tears that trickled down your own, and you tried to catch his gaze but at this point, he stared fixedly down at his lap. 

“Keiji…” you called out to him, somehow wrangling his name through the tightness of your throat, because you need him to look at you. Needed him to see that you didn’t blame him, would never even think to. But he doesn’t meet your eyes. Instead, he barrels on. 

“But I didn’t. Obviously. I kept my mouth shut, and just watched you two bumble around like idiots. It was, believe it or not, torturous for me. For the longest time, I kept my nose out of your business, because I know what it’s like to… Ahh,” He bows his head, and covers his eyes with the palm of his hand. It took a moment before he wiped his hand away and continued, “I did try once, though. With you. And I felt so completely iced out afterwards, I remembered exactly why I kept out of it for so long.”

He must have sensed the rebuttal at the tip of your tongue, but he interrupts you before you could even start.

“I’m not telling you this to make you feel guilty. I’m telling you this because… I was afraid too. I was scared that if I had kept pushing, then you would have pulled away from me completely. I was scared that Bokuto would think I was overstepping my boundaries. I was scared that it would work out, and the two of you would phase me out of your lives. I was scared it wouldn’t work out, and everything would be…”

His voice trailed off, so you softly finished for him, “Fucked up?”

He finally, finally looked at you then. You reached across the table and held his hand in yours. You felt him stiffen for a second before turning his hand and curling his own fingers around yours. A giggle of relief spills from your lips, and it elicits a chuckle from Akaashi, and the sound blooms within you.

“You guys are my best friends,” Akaashi said, his grip on you tightening just a fraction, “And I saw what you were putting each other through. I was watching it all happen in front of my own eyes. I should have done something more, right? If I had tried harder with you, if I just talked to Bokuto, if I bothered even just a little bit more to get over my shit and helped my friends…  Then this never would have happened. And Kuroo… God, Kuroo. He didn’t need me to do a damn thing, he just loved you but still I managed to fuck things up for him and –”

“Shut up!”

Akaashi started a little at your sudden outburst, but it achieved the desired effect. He blinked at you once, then twice. You almost felt a twinge of guilt at your lack of patience, considering all that Akaashi was beginning to unpack in front of you. But weren’t you the one that called dibs on the mental breakdown today? If he thought you were just going to sit there and listen to his blasphemy, then he’s sorely mistaken.

“Don’t you even try to blame any of it on yourself, Keiji,” you spat out, irritated, “How could you even say something so convoluted? How could you even think such a –”

“It’s true, isn’t it?” Akaashi interrupts you fervently, as if desperate to get you to listen to him, “I let my fears hold me back, instead of facing it for the people that mattered to me. I’m just a coward.”

“No, Keiji. You’re not a coward. You…” You let out a heavy breath, all the sharpness in your tone now softening at Akaashi’s deep set frown, “Do you even have any idea how much you saved me? Even though things were… unspoken between us, I knew you understood me. Without me ever having to say a single word, you understood me. And you never judged me or tried to tell me I was wrong. You just… you just held my hand. No matter what happened, good or bad, if I looked to my side, I knew I would see you there. Do you think you’re the only person that notices the little things? I felt your support, and I felt your love. Even when you didn’t say it out loud.”

“But–”

“No more buts, I really don’t want to hear it. You weren’t the one responsible for us,” your eyes were hard, providing no room for arguments, “You were just a kid. What could you have even done? You saw how stubborn I was being! Do you really think I would have listened? You were young, and afraid, and didn’t know any –”

Too late. The words flew out of your mouth quickly, you didn’t even think twice about it. Your guard was down, and you knew that was the most dangerous thing around Akaashi Keiji. Because too slowly did you realize the trap he laid out in front of you. And as the words slipped past your lips, you realized you were already too late. Akaashi was already looking at you with that smug grin.

“It’s not the same, and you know it.”

“No, it’s not,” He chuckled at you as if you weren’t staring daggers at his soul right now, “But if you can afford me that much grace, then I think you owe the same to yourself. Everyone makes mistakes. You won’t meet a single person that doesn’t have any regrets. But you can’t let those feelings define you. Only improve you. I know you’re feeling… a lot of shit right now that I probably can’t even begin to process. But it’s what you do with those feelings that matter.” He propped an elbow on the table, and rested his chin in the palm of his halls. “Are you gonna let it keep you down?”

You felt a little stunned, and though Akaashi’s words were simple, you could feel them find their mark. Hot tears pricked at the corner of your eyes yet again, and you didn’t look away from Akaashi as you let them fall. Still, you crossed your arms indignantly and pouted. “I can’t help but feel like I fell for some dirty trick.”

Akaashi laughed this time, waving his hand to beckon you closer to him. You begrudgingly moved from your spot, ignoring the ache in all your joints from your lack of movement, and crawled to sit beside Akaashi. He lifted the kotatsu skirt for you to settle under before wrapping an arm around your shoulder. “Dirty trick or not, as long as it gets the point across.”

“I understand, Keiji. I do, but still,” you sighed, leaning your head against his shoulder, “It’s difficult not to feel foolish.”

“I know,” Akaashi said as he laid his cheek against your crown, “I know. Fools in love, right?”

You didn’t know what to say, so you chose not to say anything. The lull in conversation allowed you the time to process his words, closing your eyes to feel everything you’d been avoiding the entire day. With a deep inhale, and a slow exhale, you silently search for the strength to let it all go. 

A buzz on the table catches your attention. Akaashi makes a point to ignore the notification, even more so when it buzzes again. 

The sight of his phone only served to remind you of your own, sitting dead and silent somewhere in the corner of your room for the entire day, of the calls that went straight to voicemail, of the messages that are unanswered – of the two men on the other side of line, waiting to see which way their world is about turn. 

“Have you heard from…” 

Akaashi lets out a snort through his nose. “Oh, yes, I have. I’m probably dead for ignoring all the calls and texts. But I needed to make sure you were alright before I answered anything.”

You chuckle, moving out of Akaashi’s one-armed embrace and sitting up to face him fully. “I love you, Keiji. I’d pick you if you were in love with me too, you know. What do you say? Wanna throw a towel in the ring?”

Akaashi laughed, loud and brash and genuine, and for the first time that day, you actually believed that everything will be alright. “I love you too, y/n. But I’d rather die.”

You nudged him hard with your elbow before standing up, leaving Akaashi to rub the sore spot while you stretched out your sore limbs. “I guess it’s time to stop hiding now, right?”

“Yeah…” Akaashi trails off, and you wait for him to ask the question you could see had been brewing in his mind for hours, “What are you gonna do?”

The question shoots a pang of loneliness through you. Because no matter what decision you make, everything will change. Your friendships will not walk away unscathed, and there will never be going back to the way things were. This was irrefutable, and that thought alone should terrify you, should make you want to scramble back on your knees and beg the gods to turn back time. Yet, it doesn’t. 

No, instead you’re filled with a sense of clarity that you’re not sure you’ve ever felt before. It pained you to know that you’ll hurt the people that matter to you the most, but not as much as it would pain you to know that you weren’t being true to yourself. 

It was time for you to choose your own happiness.

“Nothing’s changed for me, Keiji. I’ve always known what I was gonna do. Whether this truth came out or stayed hidden forever… my answer is going to be the same.” You smiled sadly as you spoke to Akaashi, and he offered nothing but an understanding nod, “From now on, for me, it’s always going to be him.”

✧: @kawaii-angelanne @boosyboo9206 @theglitterypages @rntrsuna @vinsmouke @chi-anpan @jinadamsel @kowalsqq @arcorjoan @galaxyfloater3

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[sunarc]

Swallow Your Pride

The one in which y/n’s pride is too big but Bokuto’s heart is even bigger.

CW: Heavy angst,reader is a silly goose and can’t express their emotions, gender neutral reader

A/N: I was feeling really sad when i wrote this and i thought, why not make everyone else sad with me!

The silence is deafeningly loud. Your eyes scan the room avoiding the figure standing staring directly at you. You can’t bring yourself to look at him. You can’t look at the tears that threaten to fall down his cheeks. This isn’t you. These harsh words aren’t your own. Your mouth falls open and you want to scream a thousand apologies but you can’t seem to form the correct words. 

“Say something” you voice. It's all that you can manage to think of.

 Perhaps ‘I’m sorry’ isn’t in your vocabulary. No, that’s not it. If you apologize now you’ll have to admit to being the one in the wrong. Your pride is far too big for that.

“What do you want me to say?” Bokuto’s wide eyes stare at you. Confusion is laced in his voice. You practically hold his heart in your hand and his eyes are begging for you not to break it.

“Something.” You say and for once your eyes finally meet his and you regret every decision you’ve ever made. Bokuto is hesitant. He lifts his arm as if to reach out to you. You take a step back. Why did you step back?

“You said that you-” he begins 

“I know what I said” your voice comes out sharp. Bokuto looks at you with a face covered in disbelief. You can’t even listen to your own words being repeated back to yourself.

“Have I done something?” His words are soft. If the silence of your shared apartment wasn’t enough to break you then the crack in his voice is. 

“What?” you ask. 

“To make you fall out of love with me? Have I done something?” 

You could tell him that he hasn’t done anything. You could tell him that you’d never stop loving him. You could even tell him that the same way you hold his heart he holds yours but you won’t. You won’t because you’ve never been one to admit to being wrong so why start now?

“I-” 

“If I have I’m sorry” he pleads

“Stop” you whisper the words

“I’ll listen more” he continues

“Kou” You’ve been holding back tears but you can’t any longer.

“I’ll do anything just-” he’s cut off by his own cry “Please don’t stop loving me” 

“I …” Just say you’re sorry. “I can’t do this anymore.” your voice is barely above a whisper. 

The moment your eyes meet with Bokuto’s you realize the words you can never take back. Pride is a dangerous thing, something so dangerous that it can destroy the greatest of all loves.

[tetskuro]

imagining bokuto running straight to you after winning a volleyball game at the olympics...

when japan wins gold, it's a blur. the players are ecstatic and clapping each other on the back. the coaches are proud and crying tears of happiness. the audience is thrilled and cheering in celebration, you included. and bokuto?

he's sprinting straight for the stands with a bouquet of flowers clutched in his hand. the speed at which he moves belies the fact that he just played five long sets. bokuto's feet—and heart—are so light he thinks he could fly.

the moment he approaches you, bokuto's eyes visibly shine with overflowing joy. before you know it, he's leaning over the railing and kissing you like it's the last day on earth.

you hear the rapid clicks of camera shutters as the paparazzi snap photos of the couple hopelessly in love, but you couldn't care less. the two of you are lost in each other, oblivious to your surroundings.

when you part, the sight that meets your eyes renders you breathless and not just from the kiss. bokuto gazes at you in pure adoration as he gives you the bouquet filled with your favorite flowers, a tradition he follows after every match regardless of whether his team wins or loses. still, it never fails to evoke a fluttery sensation in your chest.

"for you! i love you!"

his words are always so enthusiastic and straightforward and contain every ounce of devotion he has for you. you can't help but feel the tears threatening to spill, realizing just how far he's come over the years.

"i love you too."

and he's beaming at you with all the light in the world. bokuto is undoubtedly the star of the show, but to him, you're the only star he sees.

a/n: for @bokutoko hope u enjoy this 🫶🏽

for more works, check out my masterlist

© tetskuro 2024. please do not repost or modify my work.

[bokutoko]

ꜱᴏ ɪ ꜱᴀᴡ ᴀ ᴛɪᴋᴛᴏᴋ ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ᴀɴ ᴀᴛʜʟᴇᴛᴇ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴏʟʏᴍᴘɪᴄꜱ ᴡʜᴏ ʟᴏꜱᴛ ʜɪꜱ ᴡᴇᴅᴅɪɴɢ ʀɪɴɢ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ʀɪᴠᴇʀ ᴅᴜʀɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴇ ᴏᴘᴇɴɪɴɢ ᴄᴇʀᴇᴍᴏɴʏ…

and i couldn’t help but think of sweet, sweet ʙᴏᴋᴜᴛᴏ who doesn’t mean to lose the ring, but he’s just so clumsy. and afterwards, he’s absolutely mortified and stresses so bad that you’ll be upset with him.

granted, you are sad, but you understand it wasn’t intentional. you just nod with a soft, slightly forced smile, telling him, “it’s okay, kou. focus on the games for now. we can worry about it another time.”

but bokuto can’t seem to forgive himself…

until he gets an idea. your anniversary is coming up soon…

so when japan claims the victory against argentina and wins the gold, bokuto turns to you in the stands, watching as you happily cheer him on. he basks in the spotlight and relishes the feeling of you, his sweet wife of five years, always supporting him no matter what.

while you’ve always known bokuto to be an unpredictable human being in all your years together, nothing could prepare you for this. all the cameras pan to bokuto with his usual dazzling smile, and they zoom in on the beautiful ring, adorned with your favorite gem, as he yells out, “marry me again!”

and with a shy nod and wide smile, you feel yourself fall in love with him all over again.♡

a/n: akaashi helped him come up with this idea

masterlist | navigation

please do not copy, alter, or repost my work. ©bokutoko 2024.

[fayelero]

ⓘ 01. HQ BOYS AS TWITTER LINKS !

⤷ LINKS ﹫ smut ﹫

⌗ bokuto, kageyama, kuroo, kenma, atsumu, osamu, suna, iwaizumi

⚠︎ porn without plot, cunniligus, rough sex, creampie, oral (f receiving), slight public sex .ᐟ.ᐟ

bokuto kotaro

- making out after a long day

- eating you out like it’s his dinner

- taking care of you like a goddess

- taking you as he pleases

- lives to see you on top of him

- don’t even know he’s making you squirt

hajime iwaizumi

- fingering his girl and making sure she loves it

- when he has bad days, you’re the first one to know it

- late nights back shots

- how he hold your tits cause he loves them

- coming home to his sweet wife after a rough day

suna rintaro

- taking a video of you riding him so beautifully

- making sure you’re moaning loudly

- when he’s lazy

- asking videos of you when he’s far for a game

- he lives to tease you

- never finish without making you squirt

atsumu miya

- atsumu loves it rough

- cum just at the sight of you

- pics he’d keep carefully

- just the tip? nah.

- mutual masturbation

- “you’re gonna break the bed!” “we’ll get a new one”

kenma kozume

- when he’s too lazy and wants to see you do all the work beautifully

- the beautiful lace set he bought you

- you distracted him from his games

- still making you do the work

- after a long exhausting stream

- kenma is lazy but when he’s into something…

kuroo tetsuro

- autopilot is useful in his new car

- knows just how to make you see the stars

- ass guy

- red is still his favourite color

- couldn’t even wait to be in the bed

- taking you right before the shower

kageyama tobio

- always fond of his girl

- burry himself deep

- fingering while his dick is in your ass

- eating you out like it’s a competition

- the first time you did it you thought he was gentle when it came to sex

- he does so much workout for volley and this

[tiza0925]

You're my Angel | 18+

Warnings/Tags: nsfw, afab/female!reader, heavy use of petnames, blowjobs, dirty talk, praise kink, rough bokuto, raw sex, wet and messy, pussy eating, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, pussy slapping, vaginal fingering, squirting, creampie, choking kink, spit kink ♡ SET IN A TIMELINE WHERE ALL CHARACTERS ARE AGED-UP AND OVER 18 YEARS

Pairing: Bokuto Koutarou x Female Reader

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Bokuto, who turns out to be a lot harsher in bed than anyone thought.

Which is funny considering he acts like this gentle giant out in public with you.

Kissing you oh so sweetly. Running his knuckles up and down your arms lovingly.

Worshipping you in public, making you feel all soft and happy—everyone watching how delicate Bokuto treats you.

“Would you like some water, baby?”

“Are you tired, princess?”

“Want me to carry that for you, love?”

But behind closed doors? In your guys’ bedroom? 

God—he’s practically a monster. 

“Does that feel good, princess?” Bokuto asks as he tightens his hold on your hair, pushing his cock deeper down your throat. “You like it when I stuff your pretty mouth like this?”

When you two are alone, Bokuto is fucking insatiable and greedy with you.

You whimper around the girth of his cock as you suck him, feeling the weight of it heavy on your tongue, drool dripping down your chin as he fucks your mouth.

Bokuto holds your head in place—even when he’s using all of his strength, he’s still somehow gentle with it—and fucks your mouth like it’s nothing more than a fucktoy for him. 

He groans, low and sweet. “There you go. Taking it all, baby.” You feel the tip of his dick hit the back of your throat. “Choking on my cock like a good little princess for me.” 

He pulls out suddenly, a string of saliva connecting your lips to the tip of his cock, and you sputter with a cough as you try to catch your breath.

Bokuto cups your cheek—his palm so, so fucking gentle with the way he holds your face, it’s such a huge contrast to how he was abusing your throat—and he rolls the pad of his thumb over your bottom lip.

He takes in how red and plump it is, wet from your saliva, how your eyes are teary from gagging on his fat cock—and he smiles down at you all softly. “Such a pretty girl.”

And god, you preen over the praises he gives you. 

“You wanna show me how good you can be for me?”

How he makes you feel like you’re doing all of this to please him—being so good and making him happy—it all does things to you.

It also makes it so easy to comply as you let him guide you to get on your stomach, ass out in the air, and arching your back for him. 

“Fuck,” Bokuto groans as he gets a handful of your ass, groping and squeezing it possessively as he kneads the flesh. “So perfect. Spread your legs for me, angel, let me see that pretty pussy.” 

And when you do, opening your legs a bit more so you’re all vulnerable for Bokuto to see—

He groans at the sight of your slick pussy. “Fuck, baby. You're dripping wet for me already, aren't you? Such a needy little princess.”

He lines himself up, rubbing the head of his cock against your entrance, letting it run through your slick folds and kissing your clit—teasing and making you drool with a line of your fluids beginning to leak down, creating a string that falls towards the bed.

It’s a fucking sight and Bokuto goes hazy with it, mumbling, “I need to taste you.”

He drops to his knees behind you, gripping your ass cheeks roughly as he spreads you wide—revealing more of your cunt, all warm and cute as he licks his lips.

He doesn’t let you get another thought in before he leans forward to bury his face in between your legs, licking and sucking at your dripping folds as he groans against your skin.

And fuck—he’s messy and hungry when he eats you out.

Tongue twirling around your sensitive clit. Licking into you and sucking on your slit—tongue rolling as he makes noises, your juices leaking down his chin—

Sometimes it’s too much with the way he devours your puffy little pussy, making you twitch and gasp as you feel heat tingling up your spine and your nipples grow heavy with how close you are to coming. 

“Oh god—Ko—” You sob, feeling him focus his attention on your clit, flicking the sensitive nub rapidly before giving your sopping cunt wide, flat strokes over and over with his tongue—starting from your clit and licking to your hole. 

Covering your entire pussy with his mouth, sucking and kissing and eating it like a man high off the taste of you—

He doesn’t stop until you cry with a moan, your orgasm throbbing over you as you come on Bokuto’s relentless tongue. 

“That’s it,” Bokuto groans in satisfaction, lapping up your fluids, making sure he gets every drop, licking your sloppy pussy until you’re almost overstimulated. “Come on my face like a good girl.” 

Then he spits on it, making you gasp, before going back in to glide his tongue over your cunt—twirling it inside, a whimper escaping your throat—

But he’s not done.

He gives your soaked pussy a slap, his hand heavy and rough as it hits your poor little clit and folds—making you gasp and fall forward to shift away from the stinging touch.

He stands to lean over you, his breath hot against your ear as his face brushes against your cheek. “I need to feel you come on my fingers.”

He slips two fingers inside your cunt, hearing the wet squelch as he goes as deep as his fingers can reach, and starts a steady rhythm of fingering your pussy. 

You shake your head, tears welling in your eyes. “I-I can’t—”

“I know you can, baby.” Bokuto coos, hooking two fingers into your walls, his knuckles brushing against your g-spot, and he moves his arm up and down—causing your body to shake with it as he brings you to another orgasm.

“Fuck—“ Your eyes roll back, everything hot and blurry, as heat coils in your belly and your pussy buzzes with liquid pleasure as you squeeze and come on Bokuto’s fingers. 

You feel your bladder get all tight and full, and you scream with a moan when Bokuto doesn’t stop and—

And fuck—you feel fluids spray out of you as you come. 

Coming out in quick spurts, gushing all over Bokuto’s hand and thighs as he fingers you through it—hearing him let out a satisfied sound deep from his throat and right next to your ear.

“Look at that, princess,” Bokuto’s voice is rough and throaty, his fingers slipping out of you and giving your cunt another wet slap. “Look at the mess you made, soaking the bed with your pretty juices.”

He gives your cheek a sickeningly gentle kiss as he rubs and holds your pussy, his lips warm against your skin as he murmurs, “I wanna feel you do that again on my cock, love. You can do that for me, right?” He nips your ear, whispering. “You can be a good girl for me.” 

And how are you supposed to refuse that? 

Despite how achy you feel and how oversensitive—you don’t say no.

You let him turn you around to lay on your back as he pushes your legs towards your chest, exposing your dripping pussy to him.

You moan when he rubs the fat tip of his cock along your slit, your pussy folds hugging the length of him as it drools on him, feeling the heavy and warm weight of his dick against your cunt.

And your eyes go cross-eyed when you feel a thick palm press against your throat—his fingers wrap around your neck—and he squeezes enough to get you lightheaded and feeling oh so fucking good.

He rocks his hips, teasing your slutty pussy as the tip of his dick bumps against your clit, and he leans down to brush his lips against yours, murmuring, “Let me fuck this tight pussy, baby. Let me claim it as mine and fill you up with my cum until you're dripping. I need to feel your walls squeezing my cock as I split you open.”

He reaches with his other hand to grab your breast, pinching your nipple roughly. “Show me how a good girl makes her pussy feel around me.”

Fuck. 

You shiver, feeling your nipples grow hard, and lean in to kiss him—mouth opening to slip your tongue into his mouth, moaning as you rock your hips in tandem with his to get him to slip inside you.

“That’s my good angel,” Bokuto smirks against your lips, and he wastes no time in pushing his cock into your greedy pussy—going as deep as he can go until you’re nearly choking on it.

“Oh god—” You choke with a moan with how fucking full you feel, his fat dick splitting you open as he slowly rolls his hips to fuck it in and out of you.

“You’re so goddamn tight, princess,” Bokuto picks up the pace, the wet sound of him fucking your abused pussy fills your ears, his balls slapping against your ass cheeks. “You take it so well.” 

And when he fucks you—he does it to ruin you.

Squeezing your throat until you can’t speak.

Pounding into that little pussy until you’re creaming on his cock and you’re so fucking wet you can hardly feel him anymore. 

You can barely speak—just a litany of curses and gasps leaves your mouth as he fucks you.

“Open your mouth,” Bokuto says so softly when he leans close, his movements never stopping as you hear the loud smacking of his hips hitting your ass with every delicious roll of his hips. 

And you listen, plump lips parting and waiting as you look at him with doe eyes, feeling heat go through your body when you see the satisfied grin he gives you in return.

He’s nasty with it when he fucks you too—spitting in your mouth, a glob of his saliva lands on your tongue that makes you clench around him—and he gives your delicate throat another squeeze as he murmurs, “Swallow.” 

And when he comes—fuck it’s so much and so messy that you nearly swell with it.

He lets out a low groan and buries his cock deep inside your pussy, thick loads of hot, sticky cum spurts inside you, as he buries his head in the crook of your neck.

He fills you to the brim. “Take every last drop, baby.” And your pussy drinks it all—like it’s thirsty for his cum as you throb around him, breathing heavily as little bits of his cum begin to leak with how full your cunt is.

“God,” Bokuto huffs against your neck as he slides one hand down to touch your belly, feeling it a little inflated. “You took it all like a good girl. Your pussy is nice and full now. I bet you can feel it sloshing around in there, angel.” 

And when he finally pulls out, his softening cock slipping out of your well-fucked pussy—all red and fat and puffy with your juices and his cum everywhere—he doesn’t stop playing with your pretty cunt.

He slides two fingers up your slit, collecting his cum—god it’s so much he just knows you’ll be leaking for days after this—and he pushes his load back into your sweet pussy, watching the way your face changes with pleasure as he leisurely fingers his cum back inside you. 

“Let me take care of you now, love,” He moves forward to give your forehead a soft kiss. “You did so good for me.”

end.

Masterpost

[tsumuus]

random texts w/ random HQ boys | v.

characters koshi sugawara, kei tsukishima, tetsuro kuroo, kenma kozume, hajime Iwaizumi, wakatoshi ushijima, atsumu miya, osamu miya, kotaro bokuto

parts: i. ii. iii. iv. v. vi. vii.

masterlist

[nekomaniac]

just one time ~ bokuto

characters: Bokuto x f!chubby!reader content: (nsfw!!) established relationship, face sitting, mild weight insecurity (but dw he's got you), sweet and sloppy oral f! receiving word count: 2.3k a/n: i don't write smut a lot so let me know what you think! 🖤

⊱ ─────── ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ ─────── ⊰

"But Y/nnnn~" You'd gotten used to Bokuto's signature whiny tone whenever he wanted something, but today he was particularly unrelenting. Wide, pleading yellow eyes stared up at you as he hunched over by your side. "Come on... just one time? Just to try it! Just one time, I promise... please?" Reaching out to take your hand in his much larger one, he squeezed softly while toying with your fingers.

"Bokuto... I think you underestimate-" You start to open your mouth only to be cut off by a louder whine, Bokuto's head going in his hands.

"Pleasepleaseplease-" He chants into your hand, kissing each finger and knuckle between whiny pleas for you to succumb to his latest desire. Falling to his knees in a dramatic display, he looks up at you with the biggest puppy-dog eyes you'd ever seen.

"I am not going to sit on your face-"

"PLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASE!!!" Head snapping toward the ground, eyes squeezed shut, and brow furrowed, he repeats the word like a prayer as both of his hands enveloped your own.

"I don't want to hurt you!" You finally force out the truth. Bokuto immediately goes quiet, quickly pulling himself from his knees and straightening up to stare down at you with that intimidating, watchful gaze that still makes your heart race no matter how long you've been dating. Looking down at you through a furrowed brow, he crosses his arms menacingly over his broad chest.

"What, you think I can't handle it or something?" He raises an eyebrow, his petulant tone long gone and replaced by something much more daunting. Uh oh... You know that look, that prideful, challenging look that Bokuto gets whenever he feels slighted.

"It's not that I think you can't handle it. I'm just..." You mull over your words, your own brow starting to furrow. "One, I don't know that I have the core strength to hover over you like that-"

"Sit. Not hover. S-I-T, sit." He says firmly, not reading the room.

"Okay well I don't want to 'S-I-T, sit' either because I'm gonna hurt you or worse." Your mind conjures images of him struggling under the plush of your thighs, causing a deep grimace to dig into your lips. "I'm just not built like the girls that do that kind of thing, Bo... I'm too heavy for all that..." The words sting as they leave you, a sudden, uncharacteristic feeling of insecurity bubbling up. Once you finally look up to meet Bokuto's gaze, you notice the subtle scrunch of his nose and the squint of his eyes. "What?"

"So you do think I can't handle it." He grumbles, unconvinced by your reasoning. You sigh lightly, ready to do damage control. Regardless of whatever explanation you concoct, whether valid or otherwise, it's inevitable that Bokuto will take whatever you tell him and translate it into 'my girlfriend thinks I'm weak'. Taking a small step towards him, you raise your hand in a placating gesture.

"Boku-TO!" Before you can finish you feel two large hands squeezing your waist as he lifts you up easily, no struggle, no grunting, just your vantage point getting a whole lot taller. He slings you over a muscled shoulder, your body effortlessly folding in half over his hulking form.

"What do I go to the gym for if I can't lift a pretty little thing like you, huh?" The voice leaving him is sickeningly sweet and deeper than normal. "Should I cancel my membership? Stop wasting my money?" You swallow, eyes still blown wide as your mind races to formulate some kind of response. A sharp, stinging tap on your thigh prompts you to spit out an answer. "Hm?"

"Uhh... n-no..." Your voice comes out a bit softer than intended. Seconds feel like hours as the silence settles in the room. Then, just when it starts to feel unbearable, he lets out a strong, masculine laugh. Confidence oozes off Bokuto and now was no different, his moods were fickle. But God help you when he sets his mind to something.

"So then what's the problem, pretty girl?" He grins, his eyes half lidded and teasing. "You say you don't have the core strength." He turns his back to a mirror, the reflection of your form slung over his back staring back at you. Curling a bicep and flexing, he flashes a toothy grin, "Well I have the arm strength." You gasp as a warm hand reaches up, squeezing the plush of your ass briefly. Grinning to himself, he gives the thick cheek a soft love tap.

"Come on... Just one time for me. If you don't like it we'll stop, no biggie..." He shrugs nonchalantly. Before you have the chance to even think of an answer, the cocky grin starts spreading across his features. And when he hears that little exasperated sigh...

Bokuto knows he's won.

⊱ ─────── ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ ─────── ⊰

Mentally you were already cursing yourself for letting it get this far, a scarlet blush burned across your cheeks as you spread your legs, looking down to where Bokuto's head laid on the cottony pillow case. A big, dumb smile graced his lips, oblivious to your inner turmoil.

"C'mon, baby! No more teasing~" He grins widely, so full of himself already, the cute teasing lilt that's painting his tone making the heat in your cheeks even more unbearable. You looked down at him, gripping the headboard with an iron tight grip, the wood shaking softly. He cranes his neck slightly to look at you. "You nervy?" He asks, keeping that soft, silly tone. Between his relentless playful teasing and your brain going worst-case scenario, you couldn't seem to follow through.

"Y/n" A softer expression graces his owlish features as he rubs soothing overlapping lines up your thighs. "I'm a big guy, I can take it. Come on, pretty girl..." You look down, seeing the familiar eager smile stretched across his lips. His massive hands trail continue trailing over your thighs, temptation and soothing comfort dripping off every word and motion. Sensing your continued hesitation, he offers another solution.

"Panties on for now?"

You let out another shaky sigh before squeezing your eyes shut and nodding.Without loosening your grip on the headboard, you slowly scoot further up the bed, hips getting closer and closer the tantalizing tongue that glides over his chapped lips. "Tell me if you can't breathe, Bo. Smack my leg or something." You say shakily, the impending humiliation of Bokuto realizing that this was a terrible idea already twisting in your stomach.

"Give it to me, pretty girl... Don't go shy on me now." He flashes a white row of perfect teeth in a signature carefree smile, though the thickness of his need gives his low voice a slight edge. Large, slightly roughened hands gingerly scoot your hips closer to his face.

As your knees settle on either side of his face, he reaches up and gently spreads them further apart. Watching closely for any signs of genuine discomfort, he watches as your body gradually lowers toward his eager mouth. Slowly, he leans forward enough just to press soft butterfly kisses over your clothed core, inching up towards your apex.

"Mmn~!" You gasp softly. A small noise of approval and surprise slips out, thighs attempting to squeeze together reflexively. He cups his hands against your inner thighs, keeping them spread as he presses a firmer kiss against the lace covering your clit. The thin layer of fabric doing little to shield your sensitive bud from his soft prodding. His tongue darts out, swiping quickly against the fabric before pressing flat, giving you just enough stimulation to crave more.

He licks lightly, tongue darting out to guide the thin material between his lips. The soft sucking against the fabric serves to further weaken both your knees and your resolve. Your hips dip down lower autonomously, chasing his tongue.

He toys with you, your clothed cunt diving after him as he flicks his tongue just beside your favorite spots. A short, pathetic whine falls from your lips as you feel his lips curl into a cocky smile. He chuckles softly, his face buried in your gradually dampening panties. His own hips subtly lifting off the mattress occasionally to search for some hint of phantom friction.

"You ready to give me what I want yet, pretty girl?" The teasing lilt in his voice causing a soft tremor to wrack your unsteady legs.

"J-just let me know if you need me to move." Your voice shakes with uncertainty.

"I won't." With a teasing smirk plastered on his face he snaps the waistband of your underwear, causing you to jump and let out a soft yelp. His owlish eyes now half-lidded, but no less alert. Watching for any sign of hesitation, he slowly slides them to the side.

"You wanna sit down for me? I know those legs are getting tired..." He teases lowly, but desperation stains every word out of his mouth. "Please?"

With a nervous and slightly humiliated awkward laugh, you sink down slowly. You move to cautiously settle your weight directly onto Bokuto's wide smile. As you start to relax and get comfortable he clutches onto your thighs, letting out a throaty groan. Immediately your mind floods with regret, assuming the worst. Your thighs tense reflexively on either side of his face as you start muttering quick embarrassed apologies about not meaning to hurt him.

As you try to move off him, his strong arms lock around your thighs before his hands spread over them. With a firm yank and what can only be described as a growl, it hits you that his initial noise might not have been one of discomfort.

"Bo?" You say gently, brushing through his hair, he hasn't moved since you settled onto him and knowing how eager he typically is to please it's a bit concerning seeing him so... quiet. "You okay...?"

Another muffled satisfied groan vibrates your legs, causing you to tense up. He licks a slow stripe, parting you on his tongue as he savors your sweet, saccharine arousal. His eyes flutter open halfway to look into yours, crinkling at the corners as he smiles against you. An airy hum of approval leaves your lips as he nudges his nose against your clit, grabbing your hips to grind you down on his face.

Tangling your fingers in his hair, you swirl your hips subtly, his gaze narrows for a second before his tongue delves deep into you. Skillful flicks and delicious pressure have your breath hitching and your fingers tugging lightly at his locks.

The gentle rocking of your hips has his eyes fluttering closed. He reaches up to your shoulders, grabbing anywhere to try and pull you down harder, to get more of you in his mouth. He lets out a gravelly moan, the flicks of his tongue becoming gradually more aggressive, the hunger behind the motions palpable.

"Nggh!" A strangled cry leaves your lips, your thighs squeezing desperately on either side of his face. Strong arms curl into your inner thighs, wrenching them with such force that you topple forward. Slamming your hands against the headboard, you catch yourself just as the soft skin of your tummy bumps against his forehead.

You try to sit back up but his hands are quicker, locking you into this new position as his tongue lashes wildly inside you. Whether strictly calculated or operating entirely on instinct, his mind-numbing ministrations were bringing you closer and closer to satisfying the growing craving deep in your core.

Reaching one hand down to tangle in his hair, you grind desperately at his face. A soft whine of his name leaves your lips, breathy and high as your head turns toward the ceiling.

"D-don't fucking stop~!" Your voice sits at a delicious point between whimpering and growling, causing him to let out a low snarl of his own. The vibration sending electricity racing up your lower half as you press harder against him, anything but him and his perfect mouth fading to nothing around you.

He doubles his efforts over, the intense slurping hitting your ears. His entire head moves as he licks you over, all of his focus and energy taken up by the dizzying thought of you falling apart on his tongue. The heat between your thighs slowly spreads, becoming more and more all-consuming.

"Bokuto~!" You choke out, sweat beading at your forehead. His hands squish into your thighs, dimpling the skin as he digs into you. Tongue lathing over your clit in smooth quick circles, he draws you closer to your climax. He pushes you back up into a sitting position before smacking your thigh lightly, drawing your eyes down to his.

All it takes is a particularly harsh suck to send you tumbling over the edge. You tremble, collapsing against your hands as they grip onto the headboard. He holds you steady, lapping at your release as he works you through it. Tingles erupt through your lower half, the world around you going mute as you desperately cling onto the headboard, the sheets, fuck, anything to ground you.

His tongue gets lazier, breathing out his own soft happy sigh as he slows his once unrelenting exploration. Soft noises of contentment dribble out of your mouth as you come down from your high, panting heavily. You roll over next to Bokuto, laying face up with your arms out.

He sits up on his elbows, and you feel your breath get stolen again right as you're catching it. Bokuto looks up to the ceiling, taking in a deep breath as if rejuvenated. You watch fondly as a proud smile graces his features, his lashes kissing his cheeks as he cranes his neck upwards. He glances over at you, giving you a lopsided grin, the lower half of his face still glistening with remnants of you.

"Told you I could handle it."

NEKOMANIAC © 2025. PLEASE DO NOT REPOST, MODIFY, OR TRANSLATE

[sweetfushi]

HOW THEY REALISED THEY WERE ATTRACTED TO YOU PT 2

fluff | tobio kageyama, hajime iwaizumi, kotaro bokuto x reader. ◦ notes. part one here.

TOBIO KAGEYAMA.

He started viewing you as his inspiration.

You wouldn’t call yourself the strongest or bravest person in the world, but Kageyama thought that there’s just something about you that oozes confidence.

“You’re gonna get wrinkles if you keep mugging like that,” you snort, mushing your fist against his tense forehead. Kageyama groans and slaps your hand away, rolling his eyes at your stuck out tongue. You were almost childlike in your behaviour, but he couldn’t help but turn to you for advice or reassurance about things.

“Is that why you’re so ugly?” He jokes, knowing to shield himself just as you start to punch him all over.

In fact, nothing about you as of now screamed success, you were working hard to reach that just as much as he was. However, despite your two different paths in life and career choices, you started to notice that Kageyama would discuss everything with you, whether you’ve had experience with a topic or not (and you were very much expected to answer).

During matches, when he’d be setting or even just tossing the ball against a wall, he’d have you in mind, cheering him on and insisting that if he gave up now or cut his practise short by a few minutes, he could miss out on great progress.

So he’d listen to the voice of you he had created in his head.

And when it came to actually hearing your voice during official matches, screaming his name and pounding your fists in the air, he couldn’t deny the small smile he’d flash you when attributing each win to you with a raised fist.

He didn’t start noticing these things until Hinata wiggled his eyebrows at him one day. “Tobio, are you in loooooove?” Hinata snickers.

Kageyama slaps the back of his neck and tells him to keep his mouth shut about you.

HAJIME IWAIZUMI.

He wanted to be the one you opened up to.

Iwaizumi wasn’t a particularly social person. In fact, he didn’t really like interacting with people he was unfamiliar with. You, he wasn’t exactly familiar with, but he had seen you at his games and even around campus, texting on your phone or engrossed in a heavy looking book. Much like him, you like to keep to yourself and mind your business. You found that it was the best way to avoid unnecessary drama and relationships.

But Iwaizumi wanted to get in your business and see why you were so much like him. He liked that he found someone like him - at first, to have someone to call a friend, of sorts. As time passed and he talked to you more often, he realised his attraction to you when he started anticipating your arrival at the school’s library.

“How was class?” He asked after developing the courage to approach you. It had been fifteen minutes since you walked in and sat down with your laptop.

You nod. “It was alright, I think I’m just not feelin’ it today,” you murmur, shrugging. Iwaizumi’s brow furrowed and he hesitated before taking the seat opposite you.

“Any reason why?”

You smile, shaking your head. “I don’t know if I feel like talking about it, you know? I don’t wanna burden you—“

“You wouldn’t be burdening me at all,” he insists. For a moment, you two just look at each other, before he averts his gaze with an unmistakable smile.

KOTARO BOKUTO.

He started seeking validation from you.

Bokuto had convinced himself that he was gonna marry you. You’d known each other for four years, and every day he found himself celebrating his successes with you. Akaashi was the first to notice the sparkle in his eyes when he talked to you, but had decided to not point it out.

“Did you see that awesome freakin’ serve I just did? Did you? Did you?” He asks you, practically squealing and jumping up and down at your big smile and reciporcated energy.

“That was so cool, Bo! Can you teach me some time?” You beam, Akaashi smiling at the sight of you two.

“I gotta warn ya’,” Bokuto boasts, placing his hands on his hips and puffing his chest, “I don’t know if you’ll ever be as good as me.”

Sometimes, he’d buy you ring pops and tell you that you’re the only person that truly understands him and is worthy of his affections. You’d go along with it and pretend that you were getting proposed to, telling him, “It’s about time I’m rewarded for the support I show you!”

Bokuto had become known for attributing his successful games to you with a thumbs up at the end of every match. Close to the starting of a game, Bokuto would always ask if you had come, or would search for you in the crowd when walking onto the court. Fans would wave at him, cheer his name and flash banners with his face on them, but all Bokuto truly cared about was seeing your gorgeous face.

And when he did? There wasn’t a single opponent who could prevent him from winning that game.

sweetfushi © do not modify, repost, translate, copy or use my post in any way. all that is included in this post, aside from the fictional characters and universes, belong to sweetfushi (zee).

[mrs-kodzuken]

anything for you ⟢ bokuto k.

synopsis: dating pro!volleyball player Bokuto Koutarou meant that you dealt with a lot of hate that you didn't expect. That lead to a severe newly developed eating disorder that you hid away from your boyfriend, until he found out.

warnings: eating disorder, starving, recovery, healthy meals, emotionally intelligent Bokuto helps you, social media hate, comfort, angst and fluff

This is the sixth day you've gone without food; you could feel hunger pains slowly drifting away. You dreaded the next time they would come, begging for nutrients. Swallowing another sip of diet coke, you didn't worry about it.

After all, you have always told yourself that being skinny means being pretty.

How you desperately wanted to be pretty. How you craved it more than anything else. And fuck, it did hurt to have to keep this newfound development away from your boyfriend, Bokuto.

You both have been in a relationship for almost two years now. You remember that fateful day where you had met him by accident after going to a game for your cousin who loved a certain volleyball player.

You couldn't remember who exactly it was because you were just so captivated by the tall and muscular player who was rumbustious and oozed masculinity.

He had caught your eye and unbeknownst to you, you had also caught his as well. At the end of the game, when he was finished with interviews about his teams' win, he actually came up to you instead to talk about how long you've been a fan.

"Oh! This is my first game, I'm actually here with my cousin." You nervously chuckled, the large volleyball player in front of you making you feel giddy.

"Hey, hey, hey! Did you like my skills? Since you're new can you really tell me how it looked?" The man exclaimed, he sure was a wild one, you could already tell that.

His owlish black and white hair streaks paired with his aureolin colored, astonishing eyes. He sure was definitely blessed, not just in his physical appearance but in his game play too.

You made sure to tell him just that, especially when he scored points for his team. You weren't really sure of volleyball lingo, but you knew that he was unquestionably an eminent player.

"So, would you mind going to dinner with me? I'd love to talk more with you in some place that isn't crowded." He slyly asked, smooth moving into asking you out.

Who are you to say no to someone like him?

In the end, you agreed, and that first date was one of many that lead up to the point of him asking you to be his girlfriend. In which you obviously said yes. However, coming back to your situation right now, it was a shame that things turned out the way they did.

The more you and Koutarou had been with one another, the more self-conscious you got from social media platforms of his fans calling you all sorts of obscenities.

The main one that got you was being called fat, never in your life where you called that. You were raised to eat regular healthy portions, had your fair share of exercise and quite frankly, you felt confident in your skin, even if you were more on the curvy side of things.

That bit of information made you slowly start harming yourself. You would tell yourself that just skipping one meal wouldn't hurt, besides you didn't need the calories anyway?

Then it was every Tuesday you wouldn't eat, then thrice a week, and so on. The cycle continued until you got sick and had to call out of work.

Surviving on gum packets and diet coke honestly got you nowhere.

You could feel yourself getting skinnier, in which you'd end up pretty in the end. That's what you wanted right?

As you pretended that everything was fine, dandy, and normal, a specific night had made everything flip upside down.

Bokuto was finally home after a traveling season, being gone for three weeks was rough on the both of you. You missed him like crazy and couldn't stand to be away from him but were silently thankful he'd been gone so long for other reasons.

"Hey baby," He pulled you closer on your shared queen-sized bed. The clothes you were wearing were his and thankfully so because hiding your progress was the only way you could keep going.

"What do you want me to order for dinner tonight? I don't want to fret you to cook for me, and besides, I need a little cheat day." Kou groaned at the thought of eating healthy prepped meals, like had been for the weeks he was gone to keep his energy up.

Bokuto had missed you like crazy; he was head over heels for you too. After all, he's the one who asked you out in the first place.

After seeing you that day, in all your glory, you were absolutely beautiful to him. He wasn't sure why he was drawn to you, but he knew that he needed to talk with you and well, that ended up with you both dating, so he didn't mind the outcome.

His eyes were focused on his phone, scrolling through the numerous food restaurants in the area for the both of you to choose from. His hair was damp from the shower he just took, as well as comfy lounge clothes to lay around in.

When he originally came back, something about you was off. He couldn't pinpoint it just yet, he was waiting for you to give a hint, a slip up, something so he could connect with you emotionally.

Koutarou knew he was emotionally helpful and in tune with himself, which was something he only became better at since high school.

The TV played a few loud noises in the background, something to distract your mind from the thoughts of food.

Your mouth watered; your stomach demanded something other than diet coke and a few measly low-cal snacks that boost your energy when you needed to do something. Like needing the energy to entertain Bokuto since he was finally home.

You wanted to hold off on telling Bokuto anything, you knew he'd want you to be healthy and not severely and deathly thin.

But in your mind, that was the definition of pretty, you'd do anything to be good enough for him and being deathly skinny is what everyone on twitter was telling you to do.

You cringed away from his touch a bit, disguising it as just moving around to get comfortable. You didn't want him to know, you feared he would take the only thing that's brought you some security since he's been gone.

"Hm? Oh, I'm not really hungry. I ate a huge breakfast this morning." You lie through your teeth, it sounded believable sure, but Kou was better than that.

He wasn't going to take that bait just yet.

"Oh yeah? That's good baby, what'd you eat? I bet it was something so delicious, like your French toast. Oh, God! I've been craving that so much." Bokuto knew what he was doing, he wasn't dumb, just emotionally smart enough to do something like this to make you admit what was wrong.

Of course he's seen the way you look. Your face was a bit slimmer, you moved less, the dishes looked untouched in the cabinet the same way they were when he left.

If his suspensions were right, this may have gone on longer than he presumed, which kind of stung.

How could you keep something like this away from him? Did you not trust him enough to confide in him and ask for help? You brought him back to the present by answering his question.

"I went out this morning for breakfast when I took a walk." You nonchalantly said, not wanting this conversation to continue any further.

You wanted to say that you needed to take a bath, but he's already seen every part of that dead body you don't bear anymore.

You felt trapped to say the least.

You watched as Bokuto silently turned off the TV and turned towards you with all seriousness. That wasn't a face you saw on a daily basis, you feared what he would say next.

"How long have you been dealing with this eating disorder?" His words made you freeze, your instinct was to lie again. But was it really okay to lie to your boyfriend like this?

"I..I don't know what you're talking about. I told you I went out to eat this morning, Kou." You delude, averting your eyes to stare at the decor you both put on the walls of this shared apartment.

He wraps his hands around your hoodie covered arms and turns you to look at him in the eyes. His own searched yours for the answer, for the why. The smallest bit of anger he possessed when he realized what you were doing was long, long gone by now.

He possessed worry, anxiety, and fear for your health.

"Please, baby, please talk to me about this. I'm not mad, I promise. I'm—I'm just very concerned about you right now." He pleads with you, you can't stand to see that look in his eyes either, those beautiful eyes you fell in love with.

You know you're causing him worry, probably pain too from the way you've lied to him.

You turned away and blew out a sigh, "A while, it's not a big deal. It's... I'm fine. I'm managing it, so—you don't have to worry about it."

"Not a big deal? Not a big deal, Y/n? You've been hurting yourself for whoever knows how long and lied about it. Do you even know what you're doing to yourself? Why? What happened to have made you resort to something as harmful as this?"

"Please... just-just talk with me?" Koutarou implored emotionally, he was trying so hard not to shed tears right now. This was about you, not how you were making him feel. And he'd be damned if he guilt-tripped you like that.

Your eyes welled up with tears you didn't think you were capable of. Starving yourself never made you feel regretful of what you were doing, only carefree that you wouldn't have to be the so-called 'pig' social media referred to you as.

"I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry. I just-I needed," You took a deep breath in before trying to continue.

"I just didn't want to hurt you by doing this to myself. I just wanted to be pretty for you." You cried, allowing yourself to actually feel bad and seeing what you were doing in another light. It was horrible, you felt horrible.

"Hey, hey..." He pulled you close, taking your frame into his. He could feel you now, the sheer size of you was smaller now, not too much but noticeably so since he was able to pick you up when you were not starved.

He rocked you back and forth as you cried, mumbling out apologies and small reasons why you did it. Bokuto would get to that later, but for now he needed to comfort you and make sure you both were on the same page of helping you get to recovering.

"I'm always here for you, through thick and thin. Sickness and health." He paused, "I know those are wedding vows, but they work too." He half smiled at you, trying to make you brighten just a bit.

Over the course of the night, it only got worse for you, feeling wise, and better for Koutarou so he could help you get on the path you needed to be.

The words he would always chant had replaced the negativity that encased your thoughts for almost a month.

'I'm always here for you'

They were such simple and kind words that it made you almost tear up every single time too.

Needless to say, recovery was hard. Very fucking hard. You had leaned on Bokuto as your pillar when you pushed yourself to get better and focus on your health instead of anything else.

The nights you wanted to revert back into your unhealthy lifestyle were numerous, but your pillar was always one step ahead to finding a healthy meal and a good path to walk on together after dinner.

Koutarou was exceedingly furious when he had asked for you to tell him what the reason was that you did this to yourself.

The why.

And he wasn’t prepared for you to pull out your phone and open twitter, the app you would usually go to when the hunger pains got too much.

He scrolled through your feed, seeing nothing but rudeness towards you, ridiculing you, tearing your person down when you have not even done anything.

He was so enraged that he sent out a public message without speaking to his publicist first, noting in his head that he needed to check with them about these comments of his girlfriend he’s been with since forever, and figure out how long they knew.

The public message was a threat that he wouldn’t stand for the impropriety any longer, if he heard even the littlest thing, he would personally have them held accountable and sue for hate crimes.

You were absolutely in awe watching him defend you from the merciless people that ridiculed you for something that was so physical and meaningless if you’re healthy.

It made you not want to ever be in the spotlight again but you knew that Bokuto being there was your light that he’d welcome you to hide in.

He kissed you on your forehead and snuggled into you, soothing you after he sent the public message. “It’s fixed, baby. You don’t have to worry about that ever again, I got you.”

You felt grateful for him, without your Kou you wouldn't know what to do. So, since then you both have found an abundant number of recipes that include everything you may need to help keep you full and feeling happy.

"Ready for our walk, baby?" Kou asked you, whilst you zipped up your matching jumpsuits, he had personally ordered for the both of you. He wanted to make your recovery a positive experience and help you out the best he could.

"You bet." You paused, keeping the loving eye contact the both of you held. "Thank you, I mean it. You're so big-hearted and considerate." You admitted, elated that you found someone who would go through hell with you.

"Of course, baby," He leaned down to kiss your temple, "Anything for you." 

a/n: another comfort piece because why not? requests are open (PLEASEEEE) haha, i hope you enjoyed & use bokuto as a pillar to help yourself get better if you need <3

[lunamochii]

you're the blue text ; they're the gray/grey text

bokuto, atsumu, osamu, kuroo, oikawa, suna, sugawara, sachiro

[hiragis]

APT. Bokuto's version

[lilacrwses]

▸ their s/o is drunk and doesn't recognize 'em

summary: Partying all night, dancing and definitely drinking made you drunk enough to not recognize your sweet boyfriend.

ft: iwaizumi, bokuto

note: i hope you guys like this, it’s been a while

Iwaizumi

Iwa just came back from a training camp overseas, so he was really tired and just want to cuddle with you.

Might he be forgetting that you were partying out with your friends so he expects that you won't be coming home early?

He did quite everything while waiting for you, cleaning the apartment-which by the way he realized that it was already clean enough on its own.

He took a bath, and would probably get in trouble as he used your favorite bath bomb without permission, but nothing a kiss can't fix.

Well, what he had to do next was just wait for you. The moment his phone lights up and recognizes his ringtone only for your contact- he rushes swiftly and answered it only to be welcomed by your friends voice?

"Iwaizumi-chan, hello! Can you pick up Y/n at XXX-XXX-XXX. She's pretty tipsy at the momeng. Don't rush though! we'll be with her till you're here." He gets his car keys and locks the apartment door before going out. "I'll be there in 5." He quickly presses the red button which ends the call.

Numerous thoughts were clouding his brain right now. Mainly focused on you and how tipsy are you.

In just a couple of minutes, his phone had told him to turn and then he'll arrive at his destination. No doubt that you were right there sitting out at one of the chairs of the club with your friends.

To say that you were cute doing nothing makes him realize how badly he's down for you.

"Iwaizumi-chan! Thank god you're here. She's been telling us how much she misses you, please take care of her from her." Iwa nods and gave a wave to your friends and then focuses his vision on your body.

He walked closer to your figure and helped you stand, but he was just pushed away. Dumbfounded he cooed you and tried again.

"If you lay your hand on me one. more. time, I promise my boyfriend will beat you into a pulp." he smirks and leans in closer to your face.

"Oh yeah? I bet you must love your boyfriend to reject someone like me huh." He plays along with the drunken act. "I love him so much that it hurts." He panics when tears came out of his eyes.

"Hey baby, what's wrong?" Iwaizumi cups your cheeks and wiped the stray tears away. You looked into his eyes and you noticed a familiar warm loving gaze that you'd been missing for a while.

"Are you my hajime? B-but he wasn’t supposed to come home till….tonight" You hiccup.

“You’re my haji!”

"Yes, baby. Now, will you let me touch you now?" You nodded and jumped into his arms right now.

"Ooof- Careful right there." He didn't hear anything but your cute little snores, he might be tired right now but having that little talk with you just gave him a bit-- a lot of energy in return.

Bokuto

This big ball of fluff was with his teammates for an after-party game.

You, on the other hand, are with your friends and are bar hopping. Expectantly Bokuto wandered his eyes searching for a familiar person, but none to be found.

He just thought that you are still probably having fun with your friends.

He reassured himself that a little bit over twelve is still early so here he is patiently waiting for you (even though there's a slight chance you'll never come) while still enjoying his time with his very own friends.

From the perspective of his teammates, it was odd to see Bokuto sitting in one place and not moving so much. Is it because of his drink?

The loud music of the bar made communication a tad difficult. However, Bokuto did not fail to hear his phone ring with the help of the ringing vibration, of course.

His face did lit up when he saw your nickname on his screen and almost took no time to answer the phone.

"My pretty baby! I miss you so much, What took you so long to call, I was waiting." Bokuto is now in his baby voice pouting, much to his joy it was actually your friend who called him and told him you guys were sitting from a distance to where he and his teammates were.

"Oh, thanks! I'll be right there in a minute." It might seem that Bokuto was drinking beer the whole time but it was actually just an orange juice. He didn't plan on getting drunk before he could pick you up.

Akaashi had told him it was not a gentlemanly move to be drunk and be taken care of his s/o. But to be completely honest, Akaashi just told him that so he could spare you handling Bokuto's weakness #12.

He finally saw where you were when he noticed one of your friends waved their hands to get Bokuto's attention. "Bokuto-kun, we're really sorry. She got pretty enthusiastic and got carried away." your friend scratched her nape.

"It's ok, I'll take her from here. Thanks for dropping by though."

Your friends bid goodbyes to Bokuto before leaving. Your boyfriend helped you stand up, you were blinking your eyes trying to see the person that's in front of you. The moment Bokuto landed his hands to your waist you pushed him enough to collide with another person.

Bokuto apologized repeatedly before directing his attention to you again. His thoughts start to bother him. Couldn't you recognize him? How many drinks did you take?

But He tried again, "Y/n baby, it's Kou. You're boyfriend." It seemed that his puppy eyes were enough for you to recognize him.

"Kou?" He nodded

"Yes! Yes, baby!"

You immediately jumped your way to Bokuto, and kissed him."You're my Kou!" He laughed catching you in his arms. "Now let's get you home." He kisses your lips before dropping a text to his team's group chat.

Akaashi was right! He should be taking care of you when you're drunk. Only because he gets to see this new side of you.