#i saw a fic that described him being 'wise and foreseeing'
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Im watching George fuck around on the dream smp for an hour and nine minutes after reading a few of those Dream Is In Prison And Severely Mentally Ill And He's Not Taking The Isolation Well And He's Thinking About The Past-fics and its so funny how Georges characterisation is just like. whatever. bc George does jackshit but hes like, Dreams bestie so hes gotta be there ig. Hes like an OC that everyone in the fandom shares I kinda love it
#fr though his characterization is so inconsistent its kinda hilarious#i saw a fic that described him being 'wise and foreseeing'#meanwhile george in the very little lore he did is just the epitome of no thoughts head empty lmal#livebloggin dsmp#dream smp
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rascal. (bokuto koutarou)
â” Â maybe pirates arenât so bad, after all.Â
wc: 5.6k
warnings: f!reader, copious amounts of fluff, tomfooleryÂ
a/n: rachel darling i remember you were the one to request pirates, so here it is! youâre an absolute sweetheart, and thank you for always popping into my inbox and being as lovely as you are! i hope you enjoy this! ren and remy, thank you so much for your help on this fic!Â
Inheriting your auntâs tavern wasnât exactly a blessing.
If anything, you planned to sell it off after a year or two. You were only going to work it for a year out of respect â it was giving you the opportunity to secure some sense of financial freedom, after all.
Not that it was the act of running a tavern that you were uncomfortable with. Not at all â youâd never had access to this much money before, and it was less gruelling work than that of the farm.
And it helped you stave off getting married for a few years â thank the gods.
The issue was one of reputation. Your auntâs â no, your tavern â was known for playing host to patrons with less than sterling character. It was known for servicing âunscrupulous fellows,â as your father had grumbled. In that very same breath, heâd told you that you had to take it â the money was too good to pass up.
So, youâd moved to this bustling port city, intent on making at least something during your first few months. Youâd hoped that the reputation of your patrons was all hearsay; rumours spread by competitors, or maybe gullible travellers.
Unfortunately, your father was right.
Pirates. Pirates, everywhere. How your aunt had built up a client base composed primarily of these seaborne rogues, you werenât sure.
But you were wise enough to keep your opinions to yourself. These men would be lining your pockets for the foreseeable future, after all.
Had you been scared, at first? Yes! Absolutely terrified! But you had to accustom yourself to it â and fast. Â
You even knew a few by name; regulars who always seemed to come in at least twice a month or so. Some came weekly, which always made you doubt just how much seafaring they actually did.
Some even brought you spoils from their âtravelsâ. Goods like wheat and barley, mostly â stuff that you were wise enough to turn a blind eye to. Most of the time, you would just donate such things to the local orphanage. They had better use for such things, anyway.
You were sure that a few of them, blinded by their drunken haze, couldnât actually tell the difference between you and your aunt. But it was no matter; whoever your aunt was, she was tough as nails. That wasnât a surprise, though. She had left this place simply because she wanted to go travelling around the world. You wondered, more than once, if sheâd actually run off with a pirate.
There was a certain group of regulars that confused you, though. Admittedly, you were quite fond of them, but you had no idea if they were pirates, or just some old chums. They always came in at least once a week, and they were never short on gold.
But they treated you well, and always made a habit of hanging around the bar.
Their leader was striking, a tall, muscular man with a pair of sparkling golden eyes and the worldâs brightest smile. He certainly had the look of a pirate â that typical white shirt that revealed a little more of his chest than maybe it should, the sun-kissed skin, the sword slung around his waist.
But his personality only half fit the bill. Loud, gregarious, bold â but sensitive, childish, naĂŻve.
And yet despite all that, you could tell that he was in charge. Things always seemed to come back to him, no matter what. Even if his stunning black-haired friend â likely the first mate, if they really were pirates â seemed to call most of the shots.
Not that it mattered, in the end. They paid up, and that was enough.
âSo, what do you think of pirates?â This leader, who youâd surmised was called âBokutoâ, asked, tilting his head to the side. He looked a little like a bird.
A ripple of exasperation ran through his friends. Â
You laughed. âWhy do you ask?â
âRumour is theyâre your main clientele.â Another one of the men â possibly called Konoha, if you remembered correctly â smirked at you from over his flagon.
âAh,â you smiled, propping your elbows on the bar and resting your chin on folded hands. âItâs hard to tell these days.â Youâd play the game, if you must.
âHuh?â The lot of them frowned at you; were they offended, maybe?
âI like my pirates traditional, see,â you sighed, adding a touch more exasperation than necessary. âYou know; eyepatches, big feathery hats, peg legs⊠but nobody who comes through those doors looks the part.â
Konoha and some of the other men snorted, but Bokuto perked up.
âWouldnât pirates be bad for business?â Konoha raised an eyebrow at you. âDriving off other clients, and all that?â
You shrugged, biting your cheek. âWhat use is respectable clientele if theyâre not willing to pay for an entire barrel of ale?â
Some of them laughed at that. What a relief; it meant they werenât paying attention to the discomfort behind those words.
âI just wish they looked like pirates.â You shook your head, standing up to full height again. âIf youâre going to be a pirate, you may as well dress like they do in all those romantic tales.â
âSo youâre upset that theyâre not meeting your personal tastes?â Konoha chuckled. âIsnât it bad to ogle your clientele?â
âWell, they see no problem with ogling me, so I think itâs only fair,â you shrugged, waving a hand at him. You barely felt the sentiment, but you werenât about to be vulnerable in front of a pirate.
A small racket erupted from the lot of them, a cacophony of responses that ranged from concern to amusement. You took the opportunity to turn away from them, a serene smile masking your face.
You liked those boys. You really did.
But it certainly felt remiss to befriend a group of pirates. Even if they did pay your bills.
⧠â§
âIs he okay?â You asked, handing Akaashi two flagons.
âHm?â Akaashi blinked, a small frown touching at the corners of his mouth.
âYour captain.â You nodded in the direction of the man in question. He was sitting on the other side of the tavern, very conspicuously not looking at you. That in itself was abnormal. But what really made it weird was the eyepatch. And the pointed leather hat adorned with an obnoxiously big feather. Those were both new additions to his get up.
âOh,â Akaashi sighed, placing the flagons on the bar. âHeâs fine.â
âBut⊠his eyeâŠâ
âHeâs still got both of them, donât worry,â Akaashi said, shaking his head. âHe thought he needed to change up his image.â
âChange up⊠his image?â
âHe wanted to look more fearsome,â Akaashi deadpanned, his eyes flicking down. âMore like a true pirate.â
You giggled at the thought. âSo, youâre really pirates, then?â
âYou already knew that,â Akaashi smiled softly.
He was the cleverest one, that was for sure.
Your eyes found their way back to Bokuto. He seemed to be struggling with his new costume, constantly readjusting the eyepatch and pushing the tip of the hat back up so it wouldnât obstruct his vision. Occasionally, he would screw up his nose a bit. Not really the look of a fearsome pirate captain.
âI see he hasnât sawed his leg off, though.â You bit back a smile.
Akaashi chuckled at that. âNo, heâs not unreasonable enough for that.â He raised an eyebrow at you before turning to look at his captain. âHe did some asking around. Got a good scope of all those romantic pirate stories you were talking about.â
âReally?â You scoffed. If this was his attempt to woo you, it surely was the most creative yet.
âWell, tell him that I donât like my pirates reticent,â you smiled, winking at Akaashi. âI much prefer it when they talk to me.â
Akaashi laughed quietly, shaking his head. âWill do.â  Â
Within five minutes, Bokuto was back at your bar, the eyepatch replaced by his typical brilliant smile. The hat remained a part of the ensemble, but you didnât mind. You were quick to assure him that you preferred it that way.
⧠â§
âBokuto.â
âYeah?â
âThis is a terrible idea.â
âItâll be fine!â Bokuto beamed at his first mate, scratching the underbelly of the parrot sitting on his shoulder. âYouâre a good boy, arenât you Birdmeat?â
The name âBirdmeatâ had come from the suggestion that Bokuto should name his parrot after his favourite food. He was the only one who failed to see the issue with it.Â
âI fail to see how a parrot is supposed to impress a woman,â Akaashi muttered.
âItâll impress her because he can speak, duh,â Bokuto scoffed, as if heâd just said the most reasonable thing in the world. âIsnât that right, boy?â
âIdiot!â The bird squawked, flapping its wings. âIdiot!â
Bokutoâs face fell. But for once, he let it slide. âJust you wait, Akaashi,â he beamed, pointing a finger at his first mate. âThis will impress her.â
It did not, in fact, impress you.
âWhat if it shits?â You grimaced, gazing at the gaudily coloured bird with an expression that could only be described as thinly-veiled contempt.
âIt⊠wonât.â
âIt will.â
âAkaashiââ
He just shot Bokuto a look that said, âI told you so.â The fact that it was empty of any malice or self-righteousness just made it more infuriating.
âIâd be⊠willing to let it slide if it was⊠restrained, somehow,â you said carefully, your mind running through all the possible ways this could go wrong.
It was just a bird. It couldnât cause too much mayhem.
But, it belonged to Bokuto. The human manifestation of havoc.
And that made you nervous.
Bokuto nodded vigorously, turning to Akaashi. âWe can manage that, right?â Â
âUh.â Akaashi looked at you. There was something about his eyes that made it seem like he was apologising. âDo you have any rope?â
Five minutes and a lot of squawking later, and the parrot had a tenuous rope wrapped around itâs belly like a harness. Youâd felt too bad about tying its wings or legs up, so youâd made Bokuto swear to not let go of the rope. Heâd been resolute, promising that heâd be very mindful of his little companion.
Finally, it seemed, you could get back to business.
âOne spiced mead, please!â Bokuto beamed, hands on his hips in some sort of pose.
You swallowed down a sigh. Youâd be damned if this man wasnât entertaining â perhaps even charming, in his own way â but by the gods did he give off the impression of a disaster waiting to happen.
Just go about your business, you thought to yourself. Itâs fine, Bokutoâs got a grip on the rope. Itâll be fine.
âHere,â you sighed, placing the flagon on the bar in front of him.
In his enthusiasm, Bokuto used two hands to pick it up.Â
Two. Meaning one wasnât holding the rope.
And Birdmeat knew.
Even Akaashi wasnât fast enough.
It sprung off Bokutoâs shoulder, landing in his flagon with an undignified splash.
Bokuto shrieked, swatting at the parrot with one hand. Akaashi had dove head-first at the ground, missing the rope by a mere margin.
âBokuto!â He yelled.
Bokuto flinched, realising a moment too late that heâd let go of the damn bird.
Birdmeat shot straight up, its wings flapping at full speed.
You shouldâve trusted your instincts.
Chaos erupted.
âAkaashi!â Bokuto shrieked, flailing his hat in the air.
The man in question looked like he had just left this mortal plane. You had half a mind to join him.
The bird was still flapping around the tavern, squawking at the top of its little lungs.
The rest of Bokutoâs crew was on their feet, staring at the bird with some sense of dumbfounded resignation. A normal day for them, you supposed.
âThat fuckinâ bird just shat in my ale!â
Oh no. Oh no.
Laughter erupted from one end of the tavern â likely that poor sodâs friends. But you didnât have time to worry about that. Youâd just give him a free drink or two later. Your main concern was stopping that little fucker from doing anything worse.
The last thing you wanted to do was try and calm a pirate who had bird shit running down his forehead.
How were you even supposed to catch a bird? Did you have a net?
Your other patrons had noticed by now, their expressions ranging from amusement to annoyance to anger. Multiple voices were crying out, but you couldnât quite tell what any of them were saying. All you could do was watch the parrot fly higher and higher, the short leash of rope rising well out of reach.
The bird clattered onto one of the rafters, its claws skittering across the wood. Youâd never get those scratches out.
âIdiot!â It squawked. âIdiot!â
You couldâve sworn it was looking at Bokuto.
âDo you have a plan?â You hissed, head whipping round to him.
Bokuto glanced at you sheepishly, his cheeks red as anything. âMaybe?â
Why did that make you feel worse?
âAkaashiâŠâ
âPlease donât tell meâŠâ
âItâs the only wayâŠâ
You looked between the two of them, frowning. âWhat? What are you planning?â
âTrust me,â Akaashi sighed. âYou wonât like it.â
You didnât.
Bokutoâs âplanâ was to prop Akaashi on his shoulders, hoping that would be high enough to reach that damn parrotâs leash. And admittedly, that wasnât the worst plan. But this was Bokuto. Anything could go wrong.
Poor Akaashi looked like he knew that quite well.Â
You watched in horror as he stood himself on one of your stools, giving you an apologetic nod in the process. You stared at him, dumbfounded. Bokuto dashed forward, turning around so his back was facing his precariously balanced friend.Â
âBe careful,â Akaashi mumbled, swinging his legs over Bokutoâs awaiting shoulders.Â
Bokuto nodded with a grunt, clamping his hands over Akaashiâs knees as if to stabilise him. It certainly didnât make you feel any more at ease.Â
This was a disaster waiting to happen. You just knew you were about to watch someone split their head open on the floor of your tavern.Â
The lumbering form of Akaashi-plus-Bokuto ambled towards Birdmeat, each wobbly step taken with great purpose.Â
You watched, rapt with horror as they inched closer to their target, one of Akaashiâs hands outstretched and the other planted on the top of Bokutoâs head.Â
Birdmeat cocked his head.
Akaashi leant forward, swiping at the air. He grabbed the rope, giving it a careful tug. Birdmeat flapped its wings, scrambling as it fell backwards off the scaffolding.Â
One more yank and it was against Akaashiâs chest, caged in by his arms.Â
A confused cheer rippled through his crewmates as they crowded around him.Â
You frowned as you watched them squabble amongst themselves for a bit, fingers pointing and voices raised as they disagreed over who should have to deal with the bird.Â
A hush set upon the tavern, each and every pair of eyes turned to the small gaggle of men bickering amongst themselves. You were sure that your patrons were just as worried as you were that theyâd accidentally let it go in the midst of their bickering.Â
You werenât about to let that happen. Â
âGet that damn thing out of here,â you grumbled, pointing at the door. A few more moments of bickering, and the bird had safely traded hands. One of the men, a shorter fellow youâd come to know as âKomiâ nodded, scampering out the door with the parrot safely clasped between his hands.
âIâm so sorry,â Bokuto mumbled, drawing his knees up to his chest.
This was their captain? This big, muscular behemoth of a man who was sitting on your tavern floor, curled up in a ball?
What kind of pirate crew was this?
âItâs⊠okay,â you sighed, pressing two fingers to your eyes. âNobody got hurt, soâŠâ
Bokuto braved a look at you, his golden eyes round and pitiful. Hell, even his hair seemed like it had deflated. How was that even possible?
âWeâll help you clean up,â Akaashi said, giving you a quick bow. âI deeply apologise for the commotion.â
You waved your hands at him, overwhelmed by the sudden formality. âNo, no, itâs fine!â
Maybe you shouldâve been angrier. Maybe you shouldâve been more upset. But something about this was just⊠delightfully absurd. Nobody but Bokuto wouldâve thought that this was a good idea. And it was nice to have some excitement that didnât involve cutlasses for once.
âJust⊠just help me clean up, okay?â You sighed, running a hand through your hair. âThen weâll call it even.â
A week later, a poster took pride of place above the bar. It read, in big, bold lettering: âABSOLUTELY NO PARROTS, UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES. EVER.â
Akaashi had made it himself.
⧠â§
Bokuto liked to think of himself as a well-mannered man despite his disreputable occupation.
Heâd even tried to get Akaashi to market them better; something along the lines of âdebonair,â the whole âcriminals, but with a conscienceâ shtick. Akaashi had refused, calling it a waste of time â they were pirates after all, and regardless of how moral their conduct was, they were going to have a bad reputation.
But that didnât stop Bokuto from trying his very best to be a rogue with a heart of gold.
And he was currently debating whether or not punching an asshole in the face challenged or reinforced that identity. Â
âAkaashiââ
âDonât do it.â
âI havenât even said anything yet!â Bokuto whined, pouting at his second-in-command.
âSheâll be mad at you if you start a fight,â Akaashi murmured, taking a sip of his ale.
Bokuto huffed, head whipping around to look at you again.
To anyone else, you looked unbothered; smiling like you usually did, laughing at each poor joke directed your way. But Bokuto could tell that something was off. That you were uncomfortable. And he didnât like that one bit.
Heâd been watching long enough to identify the source of your discomfort.
Some dude that heâd only seen a handful of times, but had seen enough to know that he distinctly didnât like his aura.
âAkaashi, Iâm gonna do it.â
âDonât do it.â
âBut heâs making her uncomfortable,â Bokuto whined, looking between Akaashi and the bar with a certain hint of desperation.
âMaybe you should ask her about it before doing anything brash,â Akaashi sighed, rubbing one of his temples with two fingers. âWalking up to some dude and punching him in the face isnât a good way of impressing your crush.â
âI donât have a crush!â
âSure you donât, Bokuto,â Akaashi said, taking another sip from his mug.
âPsst!â
You raised an eyebrow at him. Was he trying to be subtle? Because leaning the entire top half of his body over the bar wasnât exactly understated.Â
âYes?â
âIf I started a fight with that dude, would you get mad at me?â
What? Your eyebrows shot up in shock, eyes growing wide. âBokuto, what the fuck?â
âNot, like, a proper fight,â he mumbled, pouting. âJust, like⊠a warning.â
âA warning?â Why did he think that sounded any better?
âLike a territorial thing!â
You blinked. âBokuto, what are you talking about?â
âWell, like⊠if he feels unwelcome here, heâs not gonna keep bothering you, right?â Bokuto asked, tilting his head at you. He always looked like a little owl when he did that, eyes big and round and far more innocent than they should be. Wasnât he a pirate captain?
But there was something charming about his simple logic. And something touching about the fact he was this concerned. Â
âLook,â you sighed, reaching over and taking his hand. You didnât miss how his entire face bloomed red, right up to his ears. âI appreciate the thought, but Iâll be okay.â
A thought crossed your mind. A foolish thought, really. But one you didnât abhor.
You leant forward and gave him a quick peck on the cheek.
Bokuto looked like heâd ascended. His golden eyes were wider than youâd ever seen them, his mouth forming a tiny âoâ as he gaped at you.
You giggled, giving his hand a squeeze before letting it go. âIâve got a sword out back anyway.â
Those words yanked Bokuto back down to earth.Â
âWait, really?â For some reason, he couldnât quite comprehend it. But the thought of you wielding a sword made him⊠feel things he was rather ashamed of.
You giggled, picking up a flagon and turning to one of the barrels lined up against the wall.
âI know how to use it, too.â You shot him a wink. âMy father thought thatâd be a pertinent skill for me to learn, seeing as I was moving all the way out here.â
âRight.â Bokuto nodded, almost a little too vigorously. âRight.â
âEnjoy the rest of your night,â you smiled, handing him the flagon. Spiced mead. His favourite.
You had to take his hand and wrap it around the handle, shocked and flustered as he was.
âOff you go,â you tutted, waving him towards his friends.
Somehow, he managed to walk all that way without tripping.
âOh come on,â Konaha groaned, rolling his eyes.
Bokuto wasnât looking at them. He couldnât, really. All he could think about was you â about how pretty you were, how soft your lips had felt against his cheek, how you smelt like whiskey and cinnamon and freshly baked bread.
Gods, having a crush was hard.
⧠â§
âDo you⊠like it?â Bokuto stood on the other side of the bar, cheeks flushed and hair dishevelled with intoxication.
Youâd faced many things in your time as a tavern wench. Youâd believed that it meant youâd be ready to face any kind of situation, no matter how bizarre or off-beat or unsettling it might be.
That was naĂŻve of you.
Because as you stood in front of Bokuto, very expensive-looking necklace in hand, you didnât know what to say.
 âIâŠâ
The necklace really was beautiful. It looked like a sapphire of some kind; a rich blue gem grafted into an oval. The faintest of glows emanated from it, adding an air of ethereal dignity that you didnât quite know how to comprehend.
You were uncomfortably aware of your surroundings. Of the dingy walls, the rafters that definitely needed a touch-up or two, the general stink of sea and men and drink.
You were uncomfortably aware of yourself. Dressed in some prettied-up rags, your hair pulled out of your face with a strip of cloth, your entire body coated in a slick of sweat and dirt.
You shouldnât be holding something this expensive. It was wrong.
Hell, you didnât even know where this came from. You didnât know how heâd gotten his hands on it.
âI canât take it,â you said decisively, reaching for one of his hands.
He jumped, but the contact was enough to catch him off guard. You turned his palm upwards, placing the necklace in the centre and gently curling his fingers over it.
âItâs too⊠much,â you said, shaking your head. You tried to smile at him, but you knew thereâd be a melancholic touch to it.
âIâm sorry,â he frowned, casting his eyes downwards. âI just⊠I wanted to say thank you. For putting up with uâwith me.â
âIf you want to say thank you,â you mused, crossing your arms over your chest. âHow about you teach me to sword fight?â
He puffed out his cheeks as he pouted at you. You werenât sure if heâd meant to do it or not. âI thought you said you knew how to use a sword.â
Those words had been seared into the back of his brain for the past two months.
âI meanââ You swallowed, straightening your shoulders. âI do, but not wellâŠâ
Bokuto blinked at you, completely unsure of what to say.
Did he want to spend more time with you? Absolutely.
âOkay.â
The word left his mouth before heâd run through all the options. Did he trust himself not to make a complete and utter fool of himself, should the two of you be alone? Absolutely not. Â
But when you smiled at him like that, maybe he didnât mind the thought of humiliating himself.
⧠â§
âIt might be better if you held it with two hands,â Bokuto mused, his own cutlass falling to his side as he took a step closer to you.
You sighed, lowering your blade. âRight.â
Gods, you were tired.
Bokuto had made good on his agreement without complaint. If anything, he seemed a bit too enthusiastic about it. Heâd shown up a good three hours before opening, and had launched into his lesson before youâd even had time to process what was going on. You hadnât even had your sword at the ready.
But it had gone well, all things considered. So well that youâd insisted on doing it again.
This was now your fourth lesson. You had a lot to learn, and Bokuto certainly wasnât a bad teacher; so long as you could wrap your head around what he was saying.
And usually, youâd be able to have a good time.
But today was different. Today, you couldnât put up a veneer of joviality. There was too much to worry about.
âHey, are you alright?â Bokuto pouted, tilting his head at you.
You flinched, drawn out of your own thoughts by his voice.
You hadnât heard those words in a while. You hadnât really had time to make friends in this port city, let alone find people who gave a damn about your well-being. Youâd just been so busy, running the tavern. Its reputation hadnât helped you in the social sphere, either. It was hard convincing people you were worth their time when you were known for supplying pirates with their ale. No, the only people who looked out for you were back home. Â
Like your poor father.
No. No, donât.
It set upon you before you could stop it. The lump in your throat. The tremble in your hands. The burning at the corner of your eyes.
It took only a second for you to come undone.
âWoah, woah, woah,â Bokuto started, his sword clattering on the ground as his hands came up to clutch your shoulders. That was enough to shock you back to the moment at hand.
âIâm sorry!â You gasped, covering your face with your hands. Gods, this was embarrassing. What sort of tavern owner cried in front of her own damn customers?
âDonât apologise!â He cooed. âYou donât have anything to apologise for!â
Oh, but you certainly did. Before your days running the tavern you mightâve completely broken down in front of him, dignity be damned. But you were much better at holding your composure now. Several months of serving pirates would do that to you.
âIâmâŠâ You took a deep breath, clenching your fists. âCan we finish early for today? Iâve just got⊠a lot of things Iâm dealing with right now.â
Bokuto gazed at you sadly, running gentle hands up and down your arms. âOf course.â
âSorry to bother you,â you said, keeping your voice as stable as possible.
âYou can⊠talk to me,â he murmured, squeezing your arms gently.
You looked up at him. You knew you shouldnât. You knew you might regret it later.
But fuck, you needed to talk to someone.
âItâs justâŠâ You swallowed, trying to ignore the tightness in your chest. âMy fatherâs ill.â
âOh.â Bokutoâs whole demeanour deflated. You closed your eyes, trying to block out the look on his face.
âAnd⊠and all the money Iâm earning out here is being sent home for treatment,â you sighed. âTheyâve even called in some mages to have a look at him, but that gets⊠expensive.â
âI can imagine,â Bokuto frowned, unsure of whether or not he should wrap his arms around you. Would that make it worse? Make it better?
âThatâs not even taking into account the cost of running this place.â You bit your lip, gesturing to the tavern in question. âOr how expensive it is to subsidise my family. Motherâs income alone isnât near enough to help them get byâŠâ
You didnât know why you were telling him all this. He didnât need to hear all this.
âIâm sorry,â you swallowed, crossing your arms over your chest. âI didnât mean toââ
âHey now.â Bokuto shook his head, wrapping his arms around you and drawing you into his chest.
You flinched in surprise, but you didnât move away. He was warm â and muscular. And it had been a long, long time since anyone had held you like this.
âI told you not to apologise, didnât I?â He hummed, resting his chin on the top of your head. âIt sounds like youâve got a lot on your shoulders.â
You nodded weakly. Your arms were trapped between your body and his, but you really, really wanted to wrap them around his waist.
âYou can just relax for now, okay?â He said, giving you a little squeeze. âTake a breather.â
He loosened his grip a bit. Just enough for you to manoeuvre your arms around his waist, pulling yourself closer to him.
Heâd intended to let you go, fearing that this was all too much for you. Apparently, that wasnât the case.
But no matter how fast his heart was beating, or how embarrassingly red the entire top half of his body must be, he wouldnât deny you this moment.
Not if it might just help you smile.
⧠â§
âHey, hey, hey!â
That bright smile really did nothing but bring you relief, didnât it?
âHello, Bokuto,â you smiled, fighting off your exhaustion. It was about an hour or so until your official opening time, but you certainly wouldnât begrudge his company.
He half-ran up to the bar, smile in tow. It hadnât faded even a little bit since heâd opened the door.
âWhatâs got you so happy?â You chuckled, looking him up and down.
âWell,â he grinned, voice a little more theatrical than usual. âI spoke to the fellas.â
âHuh?â
âHello,â Akaashi nodded.
You jumped. Where had he come from? Had he even walked through the front door? Or had you just been so distracted by Bokuto?
Oh, but you had something else to worry about.
A fat sack of coins, sitting on the table youâd just been cleaning.
âWhatâs this?â You frowned, looking between the two of them.
âI may have mentioned that you were⊠having a bit of financial trouble, and we decided that⊠we wanted to help in any way we could,â Bokuto mumbled, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck. âSo we went around to the other guys who come here and we asked them to throw in a little cash.â
Your eyes focused on the bag again. How much was there? You pulled the string at its neck with a trembling hand, daring a look inside.
Shit, were these all gold?
âI canât take this.â You shook your head, holding your hands up like a shield. âItâs tooâ"
âAha!â Bokuto pointed a finger at you, a triumphant grin on his face. âI knew youâd say that!â
You blinked at him.
âYou see, this isnât a gift! This is a combined tip from all of your patrons! Money given willingly, as a thanks for your service! So, you have no reason to feel bad about accepting it!â
You stared at him. Of course heâd come up with something like that.
âYou deserve to be happy,â Bokuto said, cheeks flushed as he struggled to meet your gaze. âAnd⊠youâre not going to be happy if youâve got all this stuff to worry about. So⊠so hopefully thisâll help.â
Your body moved before your mind did.
You werenât sure how you cleared the distance between the two of you, but your arms were around his neck, pressing your body against his. The poor boy froze, both heart and mind doing backflips.
âThank you, Bokuto,â you smiled, loosening your hold around his neck and moving back just enough to get a proper look at his face.
He looked like he was about to burn up, but he was beaming. Strange and chaotic and silly as he could be, you really were fond of him. Fond of the amusement he brought to any and all who interacted with him. Fond of the weird way he looked at things, so optimistic and kind. Fond of how he seemed to bring light with him whether he went.
You noticed, not without some amusement, that Akaashi was no longer in the room.
You could certainly take the hint.
Your hands came up to cup his face, and you marvelled at the look of tentative excitement in his eyes.
âYouâre a bit like a typhoon,â you chuckled, gaze flicking from his eyes to his lips.
You didnât miss the way his Adamâs apple bobbed.
âIs that⊠a bad thing?â He mumbled, hands absentmindedly finding their way to your waist.
âNot at all,â you smiled. You stood on your tiptoes, pressing your lips to his with the most chaste of kisses. You lingered for just a moment longer than necessary, revelling in the sharp little breath he took.
When you met his eyes again, there was a new glint in them. One you rather liked.
âCan you⊠do that again?â
You laughed, rubbing one of your thumbs over his cheek.Â
If you hadnât inherited this den of rogues and rapscallions, this wonderful mess of a man wouldnât have come crashing into your life. Life was a funny thing, wasnât it? Youâd been so ungrateful when youâd first arrived, and now look at you. Kissing a pirate. You could never have predicted it.Â
But maybe pirates werenât so bad, after all.
#bokuto x reader#bokuto koutarou x reader#bokuto kotaro#bokuto kotaro x reader#bokuto imagine#haikyuu x reader#haikyuucreations#ew tags#anyway this was fun#boys being dumb#does it get any better
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