#kotarou bokuto fanfiction

[megumimylove]

boyfriends who will take any excuse to see you naked, they can't help they're just so obsessed with you and can't ever seem to get enough of it.

video calls while showering ? nude pictures (he calls them "boobie check") ? watching you change even after you told him to turn around ? they have no choice but to look.

they will make up random excuses just for one picture. oh his head is aching maybe a boobie check will help ? he's sore after practice maybe a booty pic will cure him ?

they're the biggest hype men and you rarely feel insecure around them.

______________________________

Kuroo Tetsuro, Miya Atsumu, Bokuto Kotarou, Oikawa Tooru, Gojo Satoru, Itadori Yuuji, Bachira Meguru, Nagi Seishiro, Hinata Shoyo

[kn1feinthec0ffee]

my pretty boy - kotarou bokuto

kotarou bokuto x nb!reader

summary: after coming home from work one day, you accidentally discover a new favorite pet name.

warnings: none

word count: 581

notes: this is PURELY self indulgent and based on a tiktok i saw where this nb person wanted their boyfriend to call them pretty boy and i heavily related to that, which spawned this so i hope u enjoy :D

(n/n - your nickname)

********************

“i’m home, kotarou!” you called out, dropping your bags and slumping against the door. the combination of last nights lack of sleep and the overtime you just returned from working proved to be a recipe for exhaustion. quite literally the only thing that got you through the day was the thought of seeing the man that just poked his head out from around the corner, bounding over to see you.

“you look so tired, n/n, did they work you too hard?” bokuto pulled you into his arms in a comforting embrace you desperately needed. after pulling away, he held your face in his hands. “d’ya wanna kiss, pretty boy?”

the moment his words sunk in, your eyes went as wide as saucers. a giddy feeling filled your chest, what was it? embarrassment? no, that didn’t seem right; this feeling was far too positive to be embarrassment. why did two simple words conjure up such a complex yet gratifying emotion?

“w-what did you call me?” you uttered, your cheeks surely burning a flaming shade of red.

“what, ‘n/n’? i always call you that,” bokuto murmured, brows furrowed in confusion. “o-oh, you mean the other thing! it just kinda slipped out, i’m sorry, i won’t call you that anymore if it makes you uncomfortable, it’s-”

“no!” you blurted out, cutting him off. “it’s fine, you can keep saying it, i kinda liked it.”

although your voice trailed off towards the end of your sentence, bokuto still heard your words, but he wanted to toy with you a bit more.

“what was that? speak up, pretty boy, i can’t hear you,” he grinned wolfishly.

you blushed profusely before looking down at the ground and repeating yourself, still in a lower tone. “i said you can keep using it, i kinda like it.”

“say that again, pretty boy? i missed it,” he smiled ear to ear.

“oh shut up you heard me!” you fumed, face burning but this time out of annoyance rather than nerves.

“you’re absolutely right; i heard you loud and clear, pretty boy,” he spoke smugly, earning a dramatic groan from you. “fine, i’ll stop.”

filled with curiosity, bokuto ceased his teasing to ask a genuine question. “if you don’t mind me asking, why is it okay for me to call you that if it’s not a gender neutral term?”

you didn’t answer immediately; you had wondered the same thing yourself. when you had discovered your gender identity, you had felt uncomfortable with being referred to with both male and female pronouns, so why was it okay for your boyfriend to call you a boy? “i’m not really sure, to be honest. it just… felt nice? i don’t think i’m a guy, but i like being referred to like that sometimes.”

after a beat of silence, you were quick to jump in, lest your words be misinterpreted. “i-if that makes sense. it probably doesn’t, it’s weird, you don’t have to call me tha-”

“hey!” a finger met your lips before you could continue speaking. “you don’t have to explain yourself to me. whatever you’re comfortable with is fine by me, especially if it gets this much of a reaction out of you; you’re so cute when you blush like that!”

you groaned, cupping your face in your palms. what have i done?

planting a quick kiss on your lips, bokuto was off to the kitchen, turning over his shoulder to call out, “by the way, dinner’s just about ready, pretty boy!”

“bokuto!”

********************

i’m trying to get more exposure so i’m tagging ppl that have interacted w my last haikyuu post but u can feel free to ask me to either add or remove u from my taglist!! i feel so bad every time i do this i feel so annoying ugh

tags: @asahipoopoo @elysianslove @lucieel @deadmansdoctor @mage-moon @aoi-turtle @hohoshiumi @mysterystarz @astranger83 @lexi-toquero​ @aestosia​

not working: @akaashis-keiji @bloodydestiney 

[saintlevrant]

𝑝𝑟𝑜𝑚𝑝𝑡 — when they have wet dreams. enjoy! ♡

tw: fem-bodied reader, puss puss is mentioned, there are dicks involved, solo boys just jacking it, language, 2-piece combo of the classic roommates n friends tropes, panty stuffing, panty sniffing, muffling, guilt, n minor descriptions of cum. honestly, what truly counts as a warning??

He's irritated. This makes it one too many times that he's dreamed something outlandish about you. He can admit that it was his fault; if only he hadn't paid so much care and attention to those panties you left on the bathroom floor, if only he'd returned them to the dirty clothes bin they were lying right beside. He constantly talked himself into believing it was a moment of weakness, but the same, unreturned panties were laying snugly in his nightstand. With the consistent throbbing between his thighs, he wastes no time in shifting over and taking the flimsy underwear from its resting place. Just touching them has him palming himself through his pants. He lifts the fabric to his nose, inhaling deeply; groaning, his eyes roll to the back of his head as he pushes down his pants. His heavy cock smacks against his stomach, tip flushed and oozing pre-cum; fingers looped in the delicate fabric, he wraps his hand around himself. A hiss forces itself past his lips; they feel so rough around his sensitive cock. His hand moves on its own when he thinks about how cute your cunt would look with those same panties stuffed in your hole. That's all it takes for him to be at the cusp of his orgasm, body sticky with sweat and thighs trembling. He knows better than to let out any loud grunts of your name when your room is right across the hall from his, so he alternates hands and uses your panties to muffle the sounds. That doesn't stop him from releasing his viscous load once he hears you knocking at his door and asking if he was alright.

⤷ ushijima, akaashi, sakusa, kuroo, suna, matsukawa, oikawa, tendō, atsumu

He feels so guilty, but he can’t help it. For the past few times he'd hung out with you, the nights consisted of him waking up to the ache of his cock. It makes him disgusted with himself, but he can’t help the growing dark patch on his sweatpants when the vivid scenes of his dream shuffle through his mind. The thought of your puffy folds uselessly pushing up against those pretty panties you usually wore has him lifting his hips and tugging down the waistband of his pants to free his poor cock. The pre-cum bubbled up at his slit gradually made its way down his shaft; he didn't even let it get to the base before wrapping his hand around his thick length, thumbing at his tip. An airy sound of relief slips from his throat, eyebrows knitted and eyes closed in concentration, trying to remember how you looked, felt, tasted in his dream. How the usual, casual chirp of his name turned into something much more sinful; almost as sinful as the way he envisioned you on his bed, pussy glistening just for him. Hand relentlessly tugging at his cock, he imagines that it's your hole he's fucking into, imagining the different sounds he'd pull from you, from his friend. It's wrong. That's what he wants himself to think, that's what his desperate growls and grunts vocalize, but is it really wrong when his balls draw up so tight his words turn into whiny pants? Of course not, if it really was wrong, he wouldn't be painting his abdomen with thick, white ropes of cum.

⤷ semi, kita, bokuto, lev, daichi, aran, hinata, iwaizumi, osamu

© lcserlev 2022. do not repost or modify. likes and reblogs are appreciated! ♡

[coconutlimeverbena]

One of my favorite fanfic/romance tropes is when a character who is deemed to be Too Much™, or hard to love™ finally finds someone who lets them know that they're enough, and worthy of love.

Watching them go from being intentionally over-the-top in order to weed out the weak, to mellowing out once they realize that their real self is fine as-is, is a beautiful experience.

[let-me-simp-in-peace]

Butterfly Wings (Bokuto x Reader) Prologue

~

You didn’t find your life particularly boring. At least, not until you moved into this apartment building. Your neighbors were all very quiet and reserved people. They kept to themselves, and you didn’t mind that. However, there was one exception.

The man across the hall from you.

You didn’t know his name. You had only caught glimpses of the man himself. His hair, black with streaks of white running through it, and golden eyes reminded you of an owl. You could hear him yelling and laughing whenever he was home. The guy had people over often. Some form of sound was always coming from his apartment.

Though, you supposed you weren’t much better. You always had music blasting when you were home. You had a midnight baking habit and a dancing obsession, so you weren’t exactly quiet either. Besides, other than the owl boy, no one else lived on this floor, so there was really no need for you to keep it down.

There was one thing you had forgotten tonight, though. The sound effects from your video games could sometimes be heard from the hallway.

Normally, that wouldn’t be a problem, but there was the fact that it was:

1am

On a Wednesday

You were playing Call of Duty, a first person shooter.

The volume on your TV was much higher than you thought

Put all of that together, and you get a recipe for disaster.

How?

Because the poor bastard across the hall, who had just gotten home, scrambled through his door when gunshots echoed through the hallway. Within seconds, there was loud banging on your door. You paused your game and went to open it. You peeked through the peephole before reaching for the knob, only to pause and do a double take.

“What the fuck?”

You leaned back and opened the door. There on the other side was your owl haired neighbor, who was wielding a fake leg like a baseball bat.

“Hi?”

Seeing that you were both unharmed and completely unperturbed by the gunshots, the man only grew more confused. “Did you not hear them?!”

“Hear what?”

“The guns! The shooting!”

You blinked several times before a wave of guilt washed over your face. You scratched your cheek awkwardly. “That, uh, I’m playing Call of Duty..” You admitted apologetically.

Your neighbor stared at you for a long moment. “Oh.” He finally lowered the fake leg, and if you didn’t feel so awful for scaring him, you might have actually laughed at the sight.

“Can I play?”

“Huh?”

He smiled widely at you, his eyes shining. “It’s been a long time since I played that game.”

“I, uh, I mean, okay?” You stuttered unsurely.

“Oh right!” He held out his hand with a grin. “I’m Bokuto. Bokuto Koutarou.”

You took his hand hesitantly. “L/n Y/n.”

Little did you know, that one moment set into motion the events that would change your life forever.

Hey guys! I hope you enjoyed the chapter, and I’d love to hear your thoughts!

~Madison✨

[boo-nito-flakes]

Synopsis: With the deadline for your third year Photo Club exhibition fast approaching, you turn to old projects for inspiration. You get more than you bargained for, though, when that inspiration leads you to a volleyball training camp hosted by your school.

Rating: teen (swearing, a lot of kissing, implied sexual content)

Word count: 11.2k (part one), 9.9k (part two), 14.2k (part three)

Tags: f! reader, getting together, fluff and (light) angst, mostly fluff, mutual pining, friend drama, first love, summer training camp

are you busy? :You

Takka: depends

i think my zuiko is scratched :You

 Takka: hmmm this involves me how? 

ouch :You 

Takka: its easy to tell if your lens is scratched

Takka: you just look at it 

you do a better job removing them though :You 

Takka: lol so it is scratched…

Takka: and you’re trying to con me into doing your dirty work

Takka: they pay me at the lab to do this shit you know 

i can be at our spot with pork buns and a maybe scratched lens in an hour :You 

Takka: okay

It took a long time for the last message to come through. His messages all came with a slight delay—short enough that you knew he was holding his phone, but long enough to tell he stared hard at the screen before hitting send. That was how you sent each of yours, at least. Mostly because you chickened out and replaced the ‘ lets meet up and talk ’ with a lame excuse about a barely used camera lens (that actually was scratched… but you’d known about it for at least two months and deemed it not important enough to fix right away) at the last second. 

You flipped around on your bed until your feet were on the floor instead of propped against the wall. The longer you stared at his last message, the more your stomach hurt. Okay. One word that felt like a thousand. One word that felt like too much and not enough all at once. Takami was a lot of things, but he wasn’t stupid. As you tossed your bag together (it took you way longer than you would’ve liked to find the zuiko lens, the case buried beneath lost socks and uniform bows under your bed) you came to two realizations. 

Takami undoubtedly knew this meetup wasn’t just about a scratched lens.

And even if he didn’t, the conversation was still going to happen. It still needed to happen. 

“You’re heading out?” 

Startled, you dropped one of your sneakers and looked up from the genkan. You hadn’t heard your mom return from work for the day, and from the look of it—she hadn’t been home for more than a few minutes. Still dressed in office clothes, open laptop propped on a pillow, she looked at you from the couch with an arched eyebrow. 

As much as that eyebrow annoyed you, you were relieved to see it. A veritable sign of life after weeks of closed bedroom doors, muffled tears, and stacks of dirty dishes.

“Oh, yeah.” You waved at your bag, camera gear peeking from the top, in lieu of an adequate explanation and resumed tying your shoes.

She hummed a knowing sound and said, “Don’t stay out too late, okay? And take an umbrella, it’s supposed to rain later.”

“Really?” Skeptical, you peered over your shoulder to look through the curtains in the living room. There wasn’t a cloud in sight, the sky a perfect gradation of pinks and blues as the sun teased the horizon. 

“Yes, really. It’s summer storm season, don’t give me that look.”

“I’m not giving you any look,” you iterated, trapping your bottom lip between your teeth, “this is just what my face looks like.”

“So I’ve heard.” 

You didn’t really have the time to bicker with your mom about Tokyo weather patterns (even though the thought of staying in to do so instead of leaving to probably maybe end a three year friendship crossed your mind), and carrying around a cumbersome umbrella to make her happy was the least you could do. You fumbled around the front closet, draping your body over winter jackets and dusty board games, until you found a collapsible umbrella tucked away in a corner. Your mom’s voice, subdued by the capacious Narnia-ness of the front closet, drifted your way as you reemerged.

“—I’ll just get take away, then. Any preference?”

You thought about Takami and the pork buns you promised him; you were fairly certain neither of you would have an appetite for them, but you’d take them anyway.

“Whatever is fine,” you dismissed as you checked your phone for the time.

Behind schedule, of course. Not wanting to waste any more time (while simultaneously wanting to waste ALL the time), you rushed through a goodbye, waving your umbrella in your mom’s direction—door already propped half open with your foot. Beating Takami to your typical spot would take a miracle. At the very least, an empty train station and a perfectly timed order at the convivence market.

Your spot wasn’t special by any means, but you’d spent too many evenings drinking beer stolen borrowed from Itagaki’s brother or geeking out over photo comps on the dental clinic roof for it to be anything less than sacred in your eyes. Emiyo’s mom worked at the clinic and didn’t seem to notice or mind that her daughter not only duplicated the fire escape key but frequented the roof with her friends. The former, you assumed, since Emiyo and Itagaki also used the roof for… whatever it is they did alone (you knew exactly what they got up to alone—Emiyo was the type to kiss and tell) when they were desperate for a little privacy.

Some of the best times of your life were spent on the clinic’s roof. Bickering over who got to be in control of the music. Lying on your backs trying not to appear too buzzed from a single beer—being buzzed enough to pretend you could see stars through the city’s light pollution. Camera tricks and pretentious artsy photo compositions. The smell of developer powder and burnt ginger. Melted candy forgotten in the bottom of your bag. Scraped knees from the fire escape ladder (the third rung was perpetually loose) and sweaty collars. Long nights tempting fate, talking about everything and nothing until well past curfew.

 It was poetic, you decided, in a fucked up way that things with Takami would come to a head on the clinic roof. Your spot. 

The A-Line wasn’t busy and you only waited a few minutes for fresh pork buns, but the popped lock on the fire escape was as sure a sign as any that Takami arrived before you. Swallowing your heart—it worked its way up your throat on the short walk from the market to the clinic, a rapid thump, thump, thump that threatened to betray you with every step—you climbed to the rooftop.

Sure enough, Takami was waiting for you. Back propped against a humming air conditioning unit, one leg pressed up to his chest. He barely spared you a glance as you walked towards him.

“Hey,” you greeted once you were a little closer.

Nonchalance was hard when you were both annoyed and hurt by Takami’s cold shoulder. You deserved it, though, so you grit your teeth and kneeled beside him—eventually tucking one leg beneath your body as you tried to get comfortable. The grease stained bag of pork buns, paper curling from the steam, felt like a peace offering as you dangled it at arm’s length.

“I waited for fresh ones,” you said, waving the bag around until he took it from you. Hands free, you tugged your bag around and pulled out the rest of your 7-11 bounty: custard puffs and bottled teas (because there was no way you were getting through this conversation without sugar and caffeine). You nodded at the drink as you handed it to him. “This is the new flavor you really like, right?”

He rolled his eyes, twirling the neck between two fingers. “Yeah. Thanks.”

It was sarcastic and brassy. It grated against your ears, and even though you were able to suppress the urge to roll your eyes back you couldn’t help but bite back. 

“Fine.” You pinched the bottle out of his hands, finding way too much satisfaction in his rumbling protest. “If you’re going to be a dick, I’ll keep it for myself.”

He said your name despairingly. “Seriously?”

“Yes, seriously. Ask nicely and maybe I’ll consider sharing.” 

A beat passed, tense and drawn out, before he scoffed, “Childish.”

Takami looked at you, his dark eyes unreadable. It was the first time he looked at you—really looked at you—all evening. Your skin crawled under the sudden scrutiny, but you held your ground. Raised an eyebrow and stared back. The seconds ticked by and then slowly, you raised the bottle—dangling it between your fingers the way Takami had—wiggling it back and forth in front of him.

“No, this would be childish,” you said pointedly, tutting when he reached for it. The noise he made didn’t sound like an apology, so you peeled the plastic seal with your nail and popped the top. “Or this,” you said before taking a sip, humming at the sweet fruit flavor. You met Takami’s eyes as you lowered the drink, quirking a brow to meet his furrowed ones. Because you could, you tugged at your eyelid and stuck your tongue out at him. “Or that. That was pretty childish.” 

The gulf between the two of you felt wider than it ever had, deep trenches carved by your hands. You were the liar, after all. Takami’s eyes were wide and incredulous, holding you in place. You were less sure of yourself under the weight of his stare this time. Blood pulsed in your ears like rushing water. Your shoulders dropped and you looked away, focusing on the rusted corner of the air conditioning unit.

Then—

 Takami laughed. He laughed . The bitter edge chipped away, leaving nothing but pure amusement. It swelled like frothy waves, as surprising as any summer storm. You looked up, questions swimming in your eyes.

“You’re a fuckin’ idiot,” he said, shaking his head a little.

Your grin cracked slow, eating away at some of the tension. “Yeah, yeah. Whatever.” You swirled the bottle between your fingers. “Are you going to ask nicely or am I finishing this?” 

“Like I want your spit juice.”

“Spit juice, huh?” you wiggled a brow and laughed, delighted at the pink hue coloring Takami’s cheeks. “Sounds kind of kinky.”

“Shut up,” he grumbled as he swiped the unopened tea from the bag at your side.

“What exactly is spit juice, anyway? Like that little dribble—”

 Takami groaned your name, more exasperated than flustered. “Stop, stop. We’re not talkin’ about this.” 

“Party pooper.”

 “Pervert,” he shot back, snickering, then gestured towards your bag. His eyes were softer—they were still guarded, giving Takami an edge that made him look older than he was—but there was a hint of tenderness in the way he looked at you. You only got a glimpse before he cast his eyes down. “Let me see how bad you desecrated this lens.”

“Now whose the dramatic one,” you muttered, setting the drink aside so you could grab the lens. “I didn’t desecrate it—it’s just a scratch.”

“Hmm. That’s what you said about that beaker of ammonia in the Chemistry Lab last year—”

“We agreed to not talk about that ever again!” 

“—right before ya’ broke it and spilled it on like, four other chemicals.”

“It was only three, and it was an accident.” 

“You made a toxic gas.” Takami said your name for emphasis, chuckling, “We had to evacuate the building.”

“It’s always ‘she almost killed us’ and never ‘thanks for getting us out of the rest of the exam’. Matsui gave everyone a pass on that unit… so you’re welcome .”

“Hayashi passed out.”

“I apologize to Himi-chan!” you exclaimed, narrowing your eyes. “And she feinted from the excitement, not the gas.” Around a bite of a now cold pork bun, you added, “She’s always been skittish and timid. You heard about the time she passed out during Calligraphy Club when someone got a papercut, right?”

Takami stopped squinting at your damaged lens to squint at you, his frown deepening by the second. “Your inability to take responsibility for things is truly amazin’.”

You stopped chewing, taken aback by the sudden callousness. It felt a hell of a lot like an olive branch snapping. Whiplash—sharp and dizzying. You forced yourself to swallow, clearing your throat before reiterating, “I said I apologized.”

“Two different things,” he murmured, gaze returning the lens temporarily before fluttering back to your face. “Sayin’ sorry and takin’ responsibility. They’re two different things.”

You didn’t need him to tell you that.

The tase in your mouth—all coagulated grease and tinny oyster sauce—soured. Of all people, you didn’t need him to tell you that . You needed to tell him. Should’ve told him long ago. Shouldn’t have kept pretending, even when it was painfully obviously to everyone you were lying through your teeth. 

“Takka—”

“How’d you scratch this, anyways?” he interrupted. 

Being dismissed hurt almost as much as the almost arrogant nonchalance he spoke to you with. You pressed the pads of your fingers to the ground, nails digging at the vinyl rooftop tiles, and exhaled through your nose. Maybe you deserved it… but Takami’s apathy stung, all the same.

“I don’t know.” Voice hoarse, you shrugged, “The flea market in Yurakucho?”

It felt like an eternity passed before he finally said, “That was months ago.”

Again, you shrugged. “Yeah.”

What else was there to say? The silence stretched. You could’ve fessed up—taken responsibility for the way your friendship had fallen apart (taken responsibility for a lot of things, really)—but the moment didn’t feel right. 

Instead, you sat and watched Takami remove the faint scratch on your lens. He rummaged around his messenger bag for the supplies before setting to task, dampening a fresh microfiber with rubbing alcohol. The cloth squeaked against the glass in short, delicate strokes. He inspected the lens, brows bunching as he spun it in the dimming evening light, before buffing the surface again. You’d seen Takami do the same routine enough times to know he was going purposefully slow.

His brows were still tense when he eventually handed you the lens. Absently, you chewed on your bottom lip as you pretended to check over his work. The glass sparked, smooth and unmarred. It hadn’t been all that scratched to begin with…a  superficial mark, neglected for months until you needed a convenient excuse. 

Takami sipped his tea while you hummed, but you could only stall for so long.

“Why did you message me?” The way Takami said your name made your chest ache . “Don’t give me some bullshit about the lens.” 

“It’s not about the lens.” You wiped your clammy palms on your bare knees, biting back a comment about how the lens really was scratched and needed fixed. It was an excuse; you both knew it. “I’m sorry, Takami.” 

You winced as you said it. 

Saying sorry and taking responsibility were two different things.

“I didn’t think you’d want to meet up if I didn’t have a reason. Stupid, now that I think about it. I should have just asked.”

“Yeah.”

“I’ve been a really, really shitty friend. I’ve been ignoring you—ignoring everyone, I guess. Ignoring your feelings.”

The last part came out too fast, eyes drifting back to the rusty patch of metal on the air conditioning unit. Takami deserved more than your fumbling apology though, so you exhaled steadily through your nose and gathered your thoughts before meeting his gaze again.

“I thought if I pretended not to notice everything would eventually go back to normal. You’d stop liking me like that and everything would be cool between us again. Fuck, that sounds so selfish and like, messed up … and when I realized that wasn’t going to happen, I just… I just panicked? I don’t know. That’s so stupid.

“I backed myself in a corner pretending not to notice, and then suddenly I couldn’t pretend? I couldn’t lie …You’re just like, really fucking important to me, Takka. You’re one of my best friends… and that’s all of what I feel for you, Takami. So I’m sorry for being a bad friend and a shitty person and not saying anything. And I’m sorry about the way I’ve been treating you—its disrespectful and horrible, and God , you deserved to hear all of this so fucking long ago. I was so afraid of ruining our friendship—look at all the good that did me. It’s just… everything is changing so goddamn fast, I just want—want ed —things to stay normal. It was selfish and cruel, I’m sorry. 

Takami pretended not to notice your warbly, teary tone. Just like you pretended not to notice the way he winced every time you referred to him as just a friend.

You swiped your open palm across your cheeks. It took all your resolve not to look away—to return to that stupid, rusty spot on the air conditioning unit.

“I could have said somethin’.” Takami laced his fingers around his neck, his head rolling with a long sigh. Despondent and a little sheepish, he said, “I knew. You uh, were a little obvious about it. About knowin’. You’re a really, really bad actress.” He snorted, one shoulder shrugging, and added, “Much better at takin’ pictures.” 

You laughed, fresh tears tickling their way down your cheeks. “Ah shit, a career in cinema was the backup plan to my backup plan.” 

“Maybe silent cinema.”

“Wooow!” you gasped, wiping your tears before curling a dramatic fist to your chest. “That hurts, Takka.”

Something cracked between the two of you, tension pouring back in.

“Yeah, well…”

“Shit. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—”

Your name was brusque on his lips. “Just stop apologizin’ for a second and take a breath, okay?” He rubbed his neck and sighed, “It’s not like there is a right and wrong person here… it’s just a really messed up situation. I’m not blamin’ you for anything.”

“Maybe you should.”

“Tch.” Temporary silence lapsed, seconds long and drawn out, before he nudged his shoe against yours twice. It was a barely-there movement, but you still wanted to crawl out of your skin. “Hey. What did I just say?”

“Uh,” you sniffled, eyes bouncing in confusion as you replayed the last minutes of your conversation. The hum and rattle of the aging air conditioner harmonized with your sputtering.

Taking pity on you, Takami sighed—a long, tired noise that undoubtedly rattled his bones—and  ran a hand through his hair. “I know you’re really tryin’ to get me to hate you or somethin’, but I coulda said somthin’, too… I uh, shit . I didn’t even realize I liked you until you started datin’ Kenzou.”

Unable to hold back your curious surprise, you sucked in a breath. Until Kenzou? You dated Ken for just over a month the previous fall… weeks after your backyard make out session with Takami. Dating was a generous term to use for your relationship, too. Most of your time together was spent in his bedroom—Kenzou took breaks from playing songs on his guitar to shove his tongue down your throat and his hands down your pants.

“After you broke up I ah… I-I realized just bein’ your friend was okay. Until it wasn’t. All that stuff you said about not wantin’ to…ruin our friendship, I get it. Okay? So just stop thinkin’ all that shit about bein’ a bad person or whatever.”

Takami wasn’t supposed to be comforting you after you spilled your guts and fessed up to your bad behavior, but there he was—fessing up, too. Taking ownership of something that was your fault. Tenderness wasn’t Takka’s selling point; he was brash, arrogantly opinionated at times, and a self-proclaimed asshole.

Maybe part of you wanted Takami to hate you as much as you hated yourself. He sat across from you open and vulnerable, the leg drawn up against his chest bouncing anxiously. It was the most human you’d ever seen him, you thought. It was overwhelming. Something doleful cracked in your chest, and you squeezed your balled fist at your size to keep it contained.

“There’s more.”

You didn’t even realize it was you who said the words until Takami turned his head a little, as trepidatious as he was interested. There was no way to take the words back, not when there was both a dare and a question roaring in his eyes.

He deserved to know. (Both as your friend and as the person whose heart you’d so carelessly considered the last few months.) No, he needed to know—needed to hear it from you and not someone else. For what it was worth, Takami was one of your closest friends; that meant you respected him enough to spit the words out.

“I have a date next week.”

And yeah, maybe you did want him to hate you more than you hated yourself. Punishing yourself wasn’t enough. You wanted Takami mad—vitriolic and sharp, doling out a harsh penance that eased some of the restlessness in your heart—not crestfallen and exposed, flayed open for your twisted satisfaction.

After what felt like forever, Takami’s head bobbed once with a curt acknowledgement, your words settling on his shoulders. The soles of his sneakers scraped against the roof as he stood. “I uh… I think I’m gonna go now.”

You scrambled to your knees, suddenly feeling panicked. “Takami, wait—”

“I’m leavin’,” he said tersely, certitude punctuating his words.

The tone made you cringe, but you tried one more time. “Takka—”

Your name sounded harsh on his tongue, loud and biting. It was the complete opposite of how he’d been speaking to you. Surprised, you leaned back until you rested on your heels and blinked up at him. His chest heaved with something you didn’t want to understand . You forced yourself to stare at him, anyway, guilt gnawing at your windpipe until it felt impossible to breathe. His throat bobbed as he swallowed, jaw tense and tight. Instead of saying something— saying anything —he bent a little, swiping his bag from the ground, and walked away. He didn’t want you to follow him, so you didn’t.

It started raining on your walk to the station. Distant thunder started as you picked up the scraps of the neglected connivence market meal on the rooftop, but the storm hit much sooner than you anticipated. In the short time it took you to fumble with the umbrella (if you weren’t so busy wallowing in your own misery you would’ve had some snarky comment queued up about how your mom was always right about these types of things), you were absolutely soaked. The rain was warm, adding to the uncomfortably muggy weather instead of providing any kind of relief.

For a moment, you considered dunking beneath a business awning to wait out the rain. Summer storms never lasted all that long. In spite of the poor weather, the streets were still busy as the evening wound down, and there were plenty of people already taking refuge beneath covered signs and cement archways.

You desperately wanted to be at home, though. Preferably cuddled in bed in comfy pajamas, a Miyazaki film on the hand-me-down flat screen in the corner of your room, and a big bag of ume chips. You avoided the widening puddles on your way to the station, jumping around them as you nearly ran the rest of the distance. You swiped your PASMO a few minutes before the next train was set to arrive—and since a businessman in a very nice looking suit was scowling at you, you took the time to dry yourself (i.e., ring out your hair and fan your damp clothes from your body) and double-check the zuiko lens was still safely tucked away in the bottom of your bag.

By the time you made it home, you were absolutely miserable. Sticky and sweaty, fine hairs slicked to your face and neck, while still damp and shivering from the rain. You could only air dry so much, and the wet coldness from your clothes steadily sank into your clammy skin on the last part of your journey home. Not entirely caring about the noise or mess you were about to make, you flung the door open fully intent on sloshing your way straight to the bathroom.

But your mom was still sitting on the couch… and maybe worse, your dad’s face—slightly laggy and in okay at best resolution—stretched across her laptop screen.  The computer was positioned on the side table facing the couch where your mom sat in her pajamas, bright eyed and smiling around a slice of pizza. When she turned to look at you—a tease about the umbrella no doubt on the tip of her tongue—her smile morphed, the corners of her lips wavering down as she examined you. She said your name affectionately, knowingly , and you winced. You didn’t have the mental energy to pretend to be okay, nor did you particularly want to talk about the situation with your mom, so you busied yourself with the act of taking off your water-clogged shoes.

Your dad’s voice had a slight echo to it when he called your name. The laptop screen was fairly small, but you could tell he was in some ultra-beige, ultra-American hotel room. Behind him, the sun was starting to peek through the partially opened curtains.

“Come say hi to your dad!” he exclaimed, obviously not picking up on the mood.

(How could he? He was thousands and thousands of kilometers away in some stupid, boring looking hotel in America while you and your mom were just… there in Tokyo, always there in Tokyo , waiting for him to come back.)

Your mom chirped his name, shifting to her knees so she could bring the computer closer. “If she doesn’t already have a cold, she’ll get one standing around chatting. You two have a lot of catching up to do, right?”

You felt nauseous. You loved your dad, but the absolute last thing you wanted to do was talk to him.

“The different time zones makes it hard,” he explained. Like you didn’t already know this . “It’s almost six in the morning here in Durham.”

You didn’t know where Durham was; the word sounded fragmented and foreign as you repeated it in your head.

“There are places here that serve fried chicken with waffles for breakfast.” He said your name with a fondness that made tears prickle the corner of your eyes. It reminded you of being younger, tiny hand enveloped in his much larger one. Of sitting on his shoulders at the street fair and being twirled beneath falling Sakura petals.  “You would love it here.”

You chewed on the inside of your cheek and cleared your throat, hoping it didn’t sound like you were on the verge of tears. “Send me pictures.”

“Ah, I’m not a talented photographer like you, musume,” he said, chuckling. “But I will make sure to take a few photos for you.”

Again, you felt a surge of tears.

“You should really dry off, sweetheart,” your mom instructed as she angled the laptop a little more towards her. “Why don’t you take a bath? I changed the water before mine earlier, so it’s all fresh and ready for you.”

You nodded, shoulders sagging with relief, and bowed a goodbye across the room at your dad before skittering down the hall to the bathroom. You undressed, clothes hitting the ground with a squelching thwack, and quickly showered—almost on auto-pilot. The bath water steamed when you peeled back the cover; you hissed as you toed the surface, temperature almost too hot to be relaxing. Almost . You grit your teeth and sank into the water, choosing to focus on the ripples of water and not the stream of silent tears that started the moment you were alone.

You could sort through your emotions later, you thought—self-effacing and dismissive. (Maybe much, much, much later. Maybe never.) You dunked your head beneath the water, holding your breath until white starbursts burst behind your eyelids. It was harder to tell if the wetness on your face was from the water or your own tears after that. Yeah, you’d deal with your baggage later. Things were always better after a bath, after all.

“Come on, Emiyo, stop messing around.” You glared at her reflection in the floor length mirror. She was too busy being a nosy menace to notice or care, sprawled out on her stomach on your bed as she thumbed through stacks of photo paper. You barely resisted stomping as you turned around, choosing instead to wave your arms dramatically at her while you pouted, “You’re supposed to help me get ready.”

For your date with Bokuto.

“Kind of hard to help when you’ve shot down every outfit I’ve picked out.”

“I’m not wearing long sleeves in August!”

“They’re bell sleeves— don’t make that face , there is totally a difference—and the shirt is so short it’s practically a crop top. August is one of the only months you can wear it.”

“Fine, fine. I’m not wearing it on a first date.” You snatched the shirt in question from the back of your desk chair and held it up to your body, nose wrinkling as you hummed, “Doesn’t it look too… I don’t know, desperate for a café date?”

Emiyo cackled, “I don’t know how to tell you this, but you are so far beyond desperate—”

“Hey!” you scowled at her reflection in the mirror.

“I’m teasing.” She bit her bottom lip, a giggle slipping through, then lifted two pinched fingers in the air. “Okay, I’m a litttttllle serious. But it’s like, kind of adorable. I can tell you really, really like this guy.”

A jolt of guilt forced you to look away. “Yeah.” 

The day after your rooftop conversation with Takami, you invited Emiyo over to come clean about your general shitty-ness. She showed up with an overnight bag slung over her shoulder and an almost comically large plastic bag from 7-11 stuffed with the finest junk food on the market. You were almost more nervous to talk to Emiyo than Takami. She was your best friend—your first real best friend—and one of the few people whose opinion you actually gave a shit about. Damaging your friendship with her was the last thing you wanted to do. You were a little clueless without her, to be honest.

You told her as much later in the night. You were both snuggled beneath the same blanket. Empty wrappers littered the ground by your bed, the menu screen flickered on the television, and your eyes were already puffy and red-rimmed from a long night of teary conversations. It was too late to have any rational, coherent thoughts. Which is maybe why Emiyo just laughed and squeezed you into a hug, muttering that you were a little clueless with her—without her you’d be a risk to society, and really she was just doing a public service—the most important kind, she iterated, poking your cheek—by being your friend for the rest of your lives.

“Stop making that face and come over here.”

Emiyo waved an impassive hand in the air as she shifted to her knees, her focus on the messy photo stacks on the bed.

“I’m not making any face,” you pouted, definitely still making a face as you crossed the room with your arms crossed. “This is just what I look like.”

“Yeah, right.” She rolled her eyes. “It’ll get stuck like that if you keep saying that, you know.”

You stuck your tongue out and said, “Good.”

“You say that now,” Emiyo clicked her teeth before letting out a little ‘ ah-ha! ’, thrusting one of the photos from the disposable camera in front of you.

Unlike most of the pictures on the bed, this one was in color, fluorescent gym lights giving it a too-yellow tint. Bokuto sat at your side, your shoulders touching and arms intertwined. It was hard to look away from the sight of Bokuto’s face so close to yours, both of your cheeks flush—both wearing goofy, too big smiles.

You had a feeling your face looked a lot like it did in the photo. Ruddy cheeks, big pupils, unfocused lovesick smile.

“You’re staring,” Emiyo laughed, bopping you on the nose. Before you could squeak out a protest, she added, “It’s cute. You’re cute. He’s cute .”

“Yeah,” you breathed.

“And an athlete, huh?” The teasing quality to her voice wavered when she bumped your shoulder and admitted, “You’ve never liked guys like that before. I thought your type was emotionally unavailable and artsy.”

“I don’t have a type! ” you scoffed.

Emiyo raised an eyebrow and started listing names. Ida. The first-year you passed at the school gates every morning who, in your defense, had a really cool hairstyle. Literally everyone in the Taiko Club… and everyone in Art Club. Your second-year class president (his pouty-scowl was absolutely devastating to the female population at your school). Your first boyfriend—the one who broke your heart, the one who led to that night with Takami. You cut her off before she finished articulating the syllables of his name.

“Fine. Maybe I have— had a type. But this is different. Bo is different. Good different. Like…he’s really intense, but in a way that makes me feel all fluttery and gaahhh inside. He doesn’t feel like, real, sometimes.”

Emiyo’s lips twitched. She said your name a little hesitantly. “If you keep thinking like that, you’re setting yourself up for disappointment. Bokuto is a real person. Actually, he’s a teenage boy so I don’t even know if he counts as a person yet. Fluttery and gaahhh is like, fucking amazing for you, but that doesn’t mean he’s not going to make mistakes.”

“I know, I know that. He’s always making mistakes—it’s one of the things I like about him, actually… he doesn’t try to be anyone but himself. Makes me feel like… like it’s okay to be myself, too.”

Emiyo scoffed incredulously, “Of course it’s okay to be yourself.”

“I know that, it’s just… hard sometimes.”

“You know you can talk to me about anything, right?”

“Yeah,” you mumbled. It wasn’t exactly a lie: knowing you could talk to her and actually talking to her were two totally separate things.

“Like, I know you feel guilty about the whole Takami situation, but you’re my best friend—I know you, I know how you process things. Don’t you think I would’ve kept pushing if I realized you were ready to deal with it? You would have freaked if I crowded you… but maybe I should have.”

“Do you think Takka is ever going to forgive me?”

She clicked her teeth. “There’s nothing to forgive—”

“I’ve been rude and insensitive and like, generally the worst.”

“I say this with nothing but love but—,” she sighed your name, a teasing smile curling at the corners of her mouth, “you’re so stupidly dramatic sometimes. We’ve already talked about this, right? You don’t have to keep apologizing. It’s okay, I get it.”

“That doesn’t make it right.”

“You aren’t going to make everyone happy all the time. It’s your life,” Emiyo said your name, “and at a certain point, you have to stop thinking about everyone else and think about you. You said you like Bokuto because he makes you feel like it’s okay to be yourself, right? So be yourself.”

You forced a smile and nodded. “Yeah, okay.”

“Was that a ‘Emiyo I am going to wear the cute crop top on my date’ kind of yeah okay?”

“I’m not wearing the crop top,” you laughed, smile much more genuine. Before she could protest, you leaned over and bumped her shoulder with yours. With a sing-song tone to your voice, you conceded, “Buuttttt, I promise not to complain about whatever it is you pick out.”

Emiyo pretended to think about it for a few long seconds (and she had the audacity to call you dramatic when she sat there, humming and tapping her chin) before her spine straightened and she exclaimed, “Deal!”

Nervously, you fiddled with the strap of your bag as you scanned the wave of people spilling onto the platform. The crowd was dense, bodies bumping together as they fanned out. Despite being a perpetually tardy person, you arrived at the station entrance a whole twenty minutes earlier than you’d agreed to meet with Bokuto. You could only pretend to be interested in your phone for so long (there was no way you played that new trendy mobile game for more than two minutes, tops…) before you took to people-watching— people waiting? — in the hopes you’d catch a familiar shock of two-toned hair.

He hadn’t been in the first wave of people pulsing from the entrance, and you really didn’t expect him to be early. Even though the volleyball team had a few days off from mandatory practice following the training camp, Bokuto’s personal routine included daily cardio and strength training. A mix of roadwork and weights. It’s just what the ace does , he’d said the night before—laughter crackling over the phone. You couldn’t help but think it was just what Bokuto did. He did that lot, assumed what was normal for him wasn’t extra-ordinary for somebody else.

So you really shouldn’t have been surprised to see him appear at mouth of the station nearly as early as you were, almost like you’d summoned him by sheer will. 

You noticed each other almost at the same time, a stuttering grin pulling at Bokuto’s lips while he waved his arms in big circles to greet you. It was the first time you’d seen him dressed in something other than a uniform or training clothes, you realized belatedly. 

You should’ve prepared yourself better for the sight of him in a collared short sleeve shirt the color of cornflowers, buttons undone at the neck, and a pair of khaki shorts that hit right above his knees. His hair was spiked, swaying with his movements as he practically danced through the crowd–twisting around oblivious salarymen, dodging the foam ball a kid threw on the ground in the middle of a tantrum, swerving to avoid a group of tourists in bucket hats who stopped in the most inconvenient place to take a group photo. 

And then he was in front of you. Close enough to touch, close enough to–

Bokuto’s eyes shined bright when he said your name, arms wrapping around you before you could register what was happening. You returned the hug on instinct, your hands sliding up his back in a way that felt so… intimate. If you hadn’t missed him so much, you would’ve been mortified at the little hum you let out at the feeling. He squeezed you hard–too hard–for half a second, like he was making sure you were really there, before his grip loosened, fingers hooking at your lower back to keep you rooted against his chest.

You took advantage of your face being pressed into his chest (you’d seen Bokuto in enough athletic wear to consider it a blessing, honestly) and breathed in his smell, all clean with the faintest scent of coconut. Absently, your fingers climbed until you felt the baby hairs at the base of his neck. 

It took you way too long to realize you were practically groping him in a very public place, but before your embarrassment could fully settle in the soles of your feet Bokuto squeezed you one more time and took a step backwards.

“Hey, hey, hey,” he grinned, gaze momentarily sliding to your lips. 

You pressed your nails into your palm to keep from kissing him. If you weren’t already getting the stink eye from a tutting older woman nearby you would have kissed him; you would lean up on your toes and kiss him the way you’d been dreaming about for days. A proper kiss, not a rushed peck goodbye or a stolen moment in front of your peers. A kiss that sat in your belly, warming you all the way to your toes. A kiss you’d think about alone at night. A kiss that said I know, I’m here, I feel it too.  

Instead, you met his smile with one of your own. “Hi.” 

A beat of silence stretched as the two of you stared at one another and then–

“You look–”

“I hope–”

Bokuto laughed as your voices overlapped, eyes crinkling at the corner. “Sorry, you first.”

“Oh, ah, I was just going to say I hope you had an okay trip in–this station is extra busy during the summer. I kinda avoid it at all costs, actually.”

It was always busy with professionals rushing from one place to another, to jobs you didn’t understand and cold office buildings that overwhelmed the part of you that desperately looked for telephone lines and open skies. During the summer months, though, school kids and groups of teens clogged the platform. Families on day trips filled the cracks and barely there crevases on the train. Tourists flooded the line, all paper maps and shopping bags. It was closest to the cafe, though.

“It wasn’t too bad. I don’t come to this part of the city often, so I tried to enjoy the ride.” He flashed a smile before cheekily adding, “Plus, I knew you would be waiting for me.”

“You knew , huh?” you teased, cheeks warm. The matching blush that rose-tinted Bokuto’s face gave you a headrush, a mix of heady confidence and adrenaline. Sure, you were easily riled up if Bokuto was involved, but there was something almost overwhelming knowing he felt the same way. “I guess now is a good time to tell you I’m like, criminally late to everything. I’ve been lectured by so many teachers about my tardiness, I swear I have their disappointed speeches memorized. It’s honestly a miracle I’m early today.”

Honestly a miracle , you said, as if you hadn’t begged Emiyo to show up bright and early to help you get ready. Yeah, you’d definitely be lost without her. 

“I guess I’m lucky, then,” Bokuto chuckled.

At that, you leaned up and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek. It was a chaste kiss, all things considered, but you couldn’t wait a second longer. Especially when he looked at you with such a fond twinkle in his eyes. 

“And,” you admitted as you rocked your feet back, “I was excited to see you.”

“ Definitely lucky,” he said, fingers coming up to briefly touch his cheek. “I was excited to see you, too, Kuma-chan.” The corners of his lips curled up almost impishly, and his voice shifted an octave lower when he added, “You’re so pretty; you look so good in that dress.”

Emiyo tried one last time to get you to wear the cropped shirt with the flowy sleeves before pulling a black mini dress with buttons down the front and a plain white tee to go under it from your closet. It was a short dress, and you usually wore a pair of tights with the dress but Emiyo promised it was better without them. Instead, the two of you agreed on a ruffly white pair of ankle socks beneath your Keds. 

If the way Bokuto looked at you was any indication, she was right. 

The way his eyes moved over your body gave you goosebumps. A shiver inched down your spine, a tingle settling at the small of your back where Bokuto’s hand rested during your hug. Suddenly, you wanted to be anywhere but the busy street. You wanted his hands back on your waist, his mouth on yours. You wanted to feel calloused fingers on bare skin, the wet warmth of his tongue against your own. You wanted Bokuto more than you could remember ever wanting anything. 

You found your voice long enough to say, “Thank you, you look good, too.” You let yourself look at him the way he looked at you (borderline indecent) and teased, “I do kind of miss the knee pads.”

“My knee pads?” he questioned, head canting to the side. There was a heavy, dazed look in his eyes that made your stomach swoop when you met his gaze. 

“Yeah, they ah…they make your legs look really good. Like, wow, you know? I mean–” 

“Kuma-chan.” It was half a whine, half a laugh. Bokuto covered his red face with a hand. “ Hah .” 

“Sorry, sorry!” 

You really hadn’t meant to say the leg part out loud, but your mouth had a mind of its own, apparently. And it wasn’t like you were lying. Embarrassing as it was to admit, it was true. You had the photos from the training camp in your bag to prove just how much of your time was spent daydreaming about Bokuto (and his thighs).

“Don’t apologize, it’s just ah, a lot hearing you say that.” He reached for your hand, thumb brushing over your knuckles before he laced your fingers together. Voice fervid, Bokuto said your name. “I really like you.”

“I really like you, too.” 

The words didn’t seem to truly capture the way you felt about Koutarou, but then again… you weren’t sure if words ever could capture the lightning in a bottle that was your name on his tongue, his hand in yours, the future ebullient and so sure as it twinkled in the depths of his gemstone eyes. 

Someday, you would find the words. 

Someday, you would tell him.

Someday, you knew, Bokuto would still be by your side.

So you smiled up at him as you leaned up and pressed a kiss to his chapped lips, just long enough to feel the puff of his breath on your mouth, and squeezed his hand as your heels rocked back on the concrete. Someday , you promised. 

A promise not just to Bokuto but to yourself. Someday, you would figure things out. Someday, you would have words for all the emotions bubbling in your stomach. Someday didn’t have to be today, or tomorrow, or the next day. Growing up fucking terrified you. Ominous, like a black cloud looming in the skyline, the future never failed to send anxious shivers down your spine. It was hard not to spiral when you thought about life after graduation. And maybe… maybe it was okay to be freaked out. Maybe it was okay to not know. Maybe part of growing up was figuring it out as you went. 

For now, you were happy just to be with Bokuto. You kissed him again because you could, and this time when your feet touched the ground you felt less nervous than you had in days. 

“We should probably get going so we don’t miss our reservation at the cafe,” you said, chagrinned. As much as you wanted to stay on the street corner – prying eyes be damned, at this point – and kiss Bokuto until your lips were swollen and red, you would probably only last another thirty minutes (the thought of kissing Bokuto for thirty minutes made your whole body warm) before you got hangry. Maybe a little longer any other day, but you were so nervous for the date you skipped breakfast and the lack of sugar in your system was seriously a threat for anyone and everyone within a three block radius. 

Bokuto’s cheeks were flush, his eyes wet-rimmed and twinkling. “Can we kiss more there?” 

You snorted, and when you attempted to drop his hand in embarrassment so you could cover your mouth, Bokuto refused to let go. He squeezed harder, letting you wiggle your arms in a pitiful attempt to escape. Instead, you squawked your mortification as his playful laughter reverberated down through your joined fingers. 

Bokuto had a personal training regime and a body toned by years of athleticism. There was no chance you were winning your weird mid-air arm wrestling contest, so after an appropriate period of dramatic wailing, you huffed your defeat. Wordlessly, and with your hands still entwined, you started walking towards the cafe. 

The two of you made it half a block before Bokuto asked, “Are you mad?” 

The question took you by surprise. Sure, you were kinda embarrassed he got you all flustered on a city street corner, but his teasing had you far from mad. Maybe the theatrics were too much. You slowed your pace a beat, pulling your lip into your mouth when you looked over and saw the worried look on his face. A lack of confidence where there was just bright excitement. Yeah… the theatrics were definitely too much, at least without reassurance. A sick feeling settled in your stomach seeing Bokuto upset, knowing you were the cause. 

Once, he called you late. Whisper in the bathroom, voices thick with sleep late. Cuddled under your blanket you listened as he apologized for calling, for bothering you, but he couldn’t sleep because he was so upset with himself for something that happened at practice. He forgot, he said. He got in his own head, he said. Everybody hated him, he said. He got like this sometimes, he said, apologizing for what felt like the hundredth time. Your jaw was tight, clenched the entire time he spoke in a tiny, crackled voice, but you cleared your throat and told him it was okay, sometimes you got like that too. You told him he was good – he was the ace, after all. That nobody hated him, especially not his teammates. You whispered kind words over and over again, wishing you were there with him, wanting nothing more than to hug him until he felt okay again. 

This time, you were with him. 

You squeezed his hand and smiled at him as you assured, “I’m definitely not mad.”

“So… you’re not mad?” he asked, repeating the words slowly. His eyebrow was still quirked, but the rest of the tension on his face was gone.

“At you? No.” Because you couldn’t help yourself and because you could, you teased, “That we can’t kiss more at the cafe? Absolutely. Am I still going to try?”

You shrugged, a coy grin playing at your lips.  

It was only fair to fluster him back. (And he got flustered, all right; a ‘haah’ slipping through his freshly wetted lips before he chewed on the bottom one, face getting redder by the second.) Flirting with Bokuto was fun . He was good, so so good, and you wanted him to know. He wore his emotions, for better or worse, and watching him react to you … yeah, you wanted him to know you felt it, too. The warm heat down your spine. The itchiness in your palms. The restlessness thumping low in your stomach. It was all because of him, because he made you feel good and happy and loved. 

Someday, the two of you would be alone enough to kiss him the way you wanted.

Someday, the two of you would be alone enough to touch, to sink to the bed and let your hands explore.

Someday, the two of you would be alone and you would let him touch you the way you imagined when you were in bed, fingers between your thighs. 

“I didn’t mean to upset you,” you said belatedly, “I’m sorry. Sometimes I take things, uh, a little too far? No, yeah, I definitely take things too far sometimes.”

“I know. I mean, I know you weren’t trying to upset me.” He took a second before admitting, “I was so nervous for our date, I barely slept last night. And this morning, Akaashi spent two hours getting me to come out of the bathroom. You’re just so nice and cute and talented, I don’t want to… to mess anything up. And… and don’t apologize for being yourself. I like you.”

You pressed your free arm against your face and whined his name, smiling as you groaned, “S’not fair to say things like that.”

“You started it!”

Well, you couldn’t argue that point. You could, however, pout about it. 

“Like I wasn’t gonna kiss my boyfriend when he’s standing there–what?”

“Hey, hey, hey…,” Bokuto stopped suddenly, mouth opening and closing for a few wild, desperate seconds before he squeaked, “I’m your boyfriend?”

Oh. Oh . 

You kissed in the shadows of the gym at his training camp and confessed under a humming light post, but you never actually put words to your relationship. Bokuto hadn’t been lying when he said he couldn’t text much during the camp, and he only messaged you a few times in between its conclusion and your date. Small things, like confirming their reservation and a reminder to bring the stacks of photos they’d yet to look through together. Not big things–emotion things, relationship-defining things.

A flutter of panic stuck to your insides. You let yourself wallow in it for all of three seconds before reminding yourself it didn’t have to be a big thing. Someday, it could be a big thing. But today, it could just be the two of you, flustered and bright-eyed. 

“Ah… yes? I mean…,”As bravely as you could, you asked, “Koutarou, will you be my boyfriend?”

You’d always been on the other side of the confession, blushing as you nodded your acceptance. There was something about the thrill of asking, the words coming out easier than you thought they would. Easier when you got to watch Bokuto tilt his head back, groaning into the sky. You couldn’t see his face, but the tips of his ears were redder than you’d ever seen before. He muttered something you couldn’t quite decipher before looking at you, citrine eyes big and glossy. When he grinned, it was sure-fire, and an unshakeable confidence rounded his features. It was a look, you realized, you’d seen from the sidelines of the court. 

“Yeah,” he said your name and it sounded like liquid sugar, like the sweetest honey, “I will.”

“Okay.”

“Okay,” he mimicked, head bobbing, “Yeah, I’m going to be the best boyfriend there is, Kuma-chan.”

You giggled, not caring much about how silly or childish it sounded, and leaned into his side. Something you could only describe as content settled in your stomach, nestling between the butterflies. “Why doesn’t the best boyfriend there is tell me about the rest of camp? I want to hear all about it.”

Bike horns chirped, car tires squealed, and the summer breeze tickled the tops of trees into the slightest breeze. You and Bokuto walked slowly, hands locked, lost in each other more than the city. People streamed around you, families and tourists and businessmen and you were pretty sure a classmate waved at you. If you remembered (you wouldn’t), you’d apologize when the school year started again.

Bokuto told you about each match, a string of names woven into each story already bursting at the seams. You followed the best you could, nodding along as you laughed and gasped, piecing the games together behind your eyes. When he got to the last match Fukurodani played against Karasuno his voice slipped, and he recounted how much he was in his head as a result of the first year duo’s eccentric gameplay. The dejected tone stuttered away with a confident fist pump and a detailed play-by-play of the match, culminating in his scoring of the final point.

 He was telling you about the BBQ hosted for the teams–something about a meat war with Hinata–when you arrived at the cafe. Miraculously, you were on time for your reservation. You checked in and ordered (two espresso banana milkshakes, three orders of the specialty bear dango, and a ginger pork sandwich to share), both you and Bokuto ‘oohing’ and ‘aahhhing’ at the menu and trendy decor as you were seated in a cozy booth. 

Before you could even tuck your messenger bag next to you, Bokuto said your name excitedly. “You remembered to bring the pictures, right?”

“You want to look at them right now?” 

“Of course,” he whined, sliding into the seat. If there wasn’t a table between the two of you, you would’ve leaned over and kissed him. You gripped the fraying edge of your bag instead. “Everyone was talking about how cool the pictures were, I wanted to look so bad.”

“You didn't?” you asked, genuinely surprised.

“Okay, maybe I looked at some of them,” he admitted, “but I couldn’t help myself! It was torture, listening to people talk about how talented you are and how badass the pictures are and how cute–”

“Okay, okay,” you interrupted, face warming. “I get it. I don’t mind; I told you to look at them.” You were proud of the photos you shared. You wanted him to see them. Maybe, just maybe, you wanted him to be proud of you too. “Plus, I ah… I have extra ones. Of just us?”

Excitement jumped his features. “Really?”

You hummed, pulling two overstuffed photo envelopes out of your bag. Bokuto propped his elbows on the table, tucking his chin in the palms of his hands, and watched quietly as you pulled the glossy photos from their sleeves. 

You thumbed the first photo in the stack from the Nekoma camp, a too-dark shot of Lev bent at the knees with a fierce expression on his face. Despite being taken only a few weeks ago, it felt like a lifetime had passed since you first stepped into the gym. You’d learned so much about taking good sports photos since then. Learned so much about volleyball, in general. The Nekoma camp photos were good, but the Shinzen camp photos were… well, they were fucking amazing. 

You were proud of almost every photo you took (even the blurry, out of focus, ill lit, accidental shots), but looking at the camp proofs the first time, you got goosebumps. Some of the photos were okay. Others needed work – a better angle, different lighting. But mostly, the photos gave you a heady feeling of nostalgia and something… well, something incredible and indescribable. It felt like being there – on the court, not behind a camera. Squeaking shoes. Strong menthol. Rallying cries to push, to not mind. Memories that weren’t necessarily yours, just stolen through your viewfinder, pulsed beneath your fingertips. You were there . 

Bokuto looked carefully at each photo, much quieter than you anticipated. If it weren’t for the small smile creasing the corner of his lips you would have been worried he didn’t like them. You didn’t mean to stare… except, you kind of did. Watching him was quickly becoming your favorite pastime. Koutarou was becoming your favorite pastime. 

Every now and then he’d hum a little, looking up at you through his lashes to offer praising words that kept your cheeks stained red. He chuckled once, a low rumbling noise (you definitely didn’t squirm in your chair at the sound), flipping a photo of Hinata around to ask how you managed to make him look so tall. 

“If I told you, I’d have to kill you,” you teased, a little breathless still from the way his laugh felt on your skin. “Trade secret, and all.”

There was nothing gentle about Bokuto’s laugh this time; it was boisterous, bouncing to fill every corner in the cafe. Your name tangled in his guffaw. It had never sounded better. You could feel eyes on you, but you hardly cared. Not when Bokuto looked at you with crinkling eyes and a toothy smile. Especially not when his ankles hooked around yours under the table. A breath stuttered in your chest at the gesture. He was so… infuriatingly cute and you liked him so, so much. 

His grin grew, like he knew what you were thinking. 

“Would you feel bad about it, at least?”

“And people think I’m dramatic,” you pouted, bumping your legs together more as you leaned forward in your chair to lean an elbow against the table. 

Bokuto was your boyfriend, after all. You were allowed to touch him. He wanted you to touch him. A lot, if the blooming color on his cheeks was any indication. Bokuto leaned into the touch, his legs tightening around yours. You were so much closer like this: calves pressed together, his fine hairs tickling against your bare skin. When he moved his muscles flexed, and you felt that too. If you weren’t already so love drunk on him you would’ve at least pretended to be embarrassed at how flush the contact got you. Instead, you stretched a hand across the table and linked your pinkies together. 

Your legs were still tangled when a server came by with your order, balancing the tray on the edge of the photo covered table. Bokuto wasn’t all that far in the stack; apparently, it was hard to flip through photos while holding hands. Who knew? The photos were put to the side in favor of espresso banana milkshakes and dango so cute you almost felt bad for eating it. 

Bokuto held one up, your name a syrupy laugh on his tongue, and said, “It looks just like you!” 

“Bo-kun,” you scoffed; the delivery was a lot less annoyed sounding when it was mixed with a giggle. “So mean.” 

“What are you talking about? It’s so cute!” He leaned across the table, wiggling it closer to your face. “Look! This one even has a little grumpy face. It really does look just like you.” Before you could make another indignant noise, he grinned and said, “My Kuma-chan.” 

My Kuma-chan. 

It felt different than a cutesy little pet name or even your given name. Your body prickled, flashing hot all over, and you chewed on the inside of your cheek. You repeated it in your head over and over again – my Kuma-chan, my Kuma-chan, my Kuma-chan – feeling more agog with each chant. There was something about the gentle possessiveness, the way he claimed you as his so easily, that kept your heart beating a steady rhythm in your chest. 

It made you feel fluttery and warm and so goddamn alive you couldn’t help yourself – you wanted to kiss him, right there in the un-privacy of your booth in the corner of the cafe. 

So you did.

It was quick and chaste, his chapped lips warm against yours, but your toes still curled in your shoes. It was, perhaps, the best kiss of your life. (It was, at the very least, right up there with the kiss you shared under the flickering campus lights when he walked you to Reo’s car.) Bokuto chased your lips when you pulled away, looking a little mystified as he muttered your name.

You offered him a smile… and bit the ear off one of the bear dango still dangling in his hand. 

The dazed look on Bokuto’s face shifted to surprise and then disbelief before settling on amusement. “Wow. My girlfriend is a cannibal.”

“That sounds like it could be a manga,” you snorted as you sat back down.

“It kind of does,” he agreed before biting the other ear of the dango, humming his approval. “Oh wow, this is good!”

“Who's the cannibal now?” 

“Hey, hey, hey! You were a cannibal before me, so it’s only fair.”

“That doesn’t make, like, any sense.” You were feeling a little reckless and way too emboldened from just his presence. Wanting to see how far you could push your luck, you hooked your legs together again and teased, “C’mon, Bo, just say you wanted to taste me.” 

It was supposed to be a playful, flirty comment. You weren’t prepared for how suggestive the words sounded rolling from your tongue. The words were heavy as they swirled between the two of you. Even from across the table, you could hear a breath stutter in Bokuto’s throat. It wobbled on the exhale, a soft little puff that kept the corners of his mouth curled. You wanted to kiss him again. Tuck your hands in the back of his pants to keep him close to you. 

Glossy yellow eyes turned towards your lips. You were biting on your bottom lip so hard you swore you tasted blood–you let up under his gaze, wetting the spot until it felt tender. 

“Yeah, okay.” Bokuto’s head bobbed once; you tried in vain not to watch the movement of his neck as he slowly swallowed. You wanted to trace the motion with your lips. He shrugged a shoulder and grinned, tone unapologetic when he said, “I want to taste you, Kuma-chan. You got me.” Your body somehow got warmer. You didn’t think it was possible. “But I don’t want to get kicked out of this cafe. Besides–we still have some pictures to look through.”

You lost track of time somewhere between Bokuto crying actual tears as he tasted the milkshake and him demanding you get your camera out of your bag to take a commemorative photo of the two of you on your first date. (He stumbled over the word but wore a smirk so proud you couldn’t help but smile into your shoulder. And when you propped your camera on the edge of an empty booth behind you, self-timer set, Bokuto rewarded you with a kiss on the cheek as the photo snapped.) Being with Bokuto made you feel kind of weightless. And it was hard to care about much of anything, time included, when he smiled at you. 

Bo provided commentary as he flipped through the photos. Clicking his teeth at ones snapped during matches Furkurodani lost. Beaming brightly at those where he or his friends looked particularly cool. Pressing his mouth into his palm shyly as he looked through the photos from Gym 3, his segmented limbs and your flushed, moony faces pressed close under the fluorescent lights. He asked to keep the one of your fingers intertwined, hands resting on the spot where his knee-pad clad leg bumped against your jean shorts. When you told him you had the negatives and could print more copies for yourself, he thumbed through the stack and pulled out two more photos–both of the two of you molded to each other’s side. 

Neither of you were particularly eager to leave, but the host was giving you the type of stink eye reserved for guests who way overstayed their welcomes. As you packed your bag, you realized the cafe was a lot busier than you remembered it being when you arrived. Oops. At this point you didn’t really care if half of Tokyo saw you being disgustingly lovesick with Bokuto in the middle of a cafe. You did, however, feel bad about annoying the staff. You forced your way through a few red faced ‘thank you’s’ on the way out of the building. With a confidence he didn’t have at the beginning of your date, Bokuto reached for your hand as the two of you emerged onto the sidewalk. 

After a few silent steps he admitted, “I don’t want this date to be over yet.”

You didn’t either. 

“There’s a halfway decent arcade nearby,” you said entirely too quickly, “that has a few DDR machines.”

“DDR?” His eyebrows hopped with surprise, at first, then excitement. You’d told him about the hours you and your friends spent playing the dancing game. For as clumsy and uncoordinated as you tended to be in most aspects of life, you were pretty fucking good at arcade games. Even rhythm games … no, especially rhythm games. Not even Itagaki could beat your DDR high score, and he was stupidly good at video games. (Something you never failed to mention when the opportunity presented itself.) Ever since he heard you were the best in your friend group, he wanted to play against you. There was a challenging glint in his eyes that defied the hesitancy in his voice. “Really? Are you sure?” 

You bumped your shoulder into his arm and teased, “Duh. What, scared you’re gonna lose?” 

“No, not really. It’s just… you’re wearing a dress.”

You rolled your eyes. “I can still kick your ass in a dress.”

“You’re going to try, yeah,” he rebuffed casually. Almost too casually, like he already had the win secured. You were going to really, really enjoy absolutely demolishing him in points. The hand that wasn’t holding yours waved in the air in a rambling motion, like he was trying to find the right way to phrase whatever was ailing him. “Aren’t you worried about um… well, it’s kind of a short dress?” 

“You’re about to lose spectacularly and you’re worried about my modesty ?” you scoffed, both legitimately annoyed and touched. 

“Hey, hey, hey–”

Because you could be as surefire and confident as Bokuto (and because you felt a little reckless, body still embarrassingly warm and tingly from his hand in yours) you squeezed his palm and taunted impishly, “When you lose–and you will lose–you better not blame it on being distracted because you saw my panties.” 

Bo sputtered your name, only a little petulant when he said, “So not fair, but I’m the ace for a reason. It’ll take a little more than that to break my game, Kuma-chan.”

“Is that a challenge?” 

The flustered noise he made in response was quickly becoming your favorite sound. 

It was dethroned quickly. A few matches of DDR quickly. After every spectacular loss, Bokuto made a little whining noise of disbelief. And then after a few seconds of pouting he would laugh and toss his arms around you as he showered you with praise. That was your new favorite sound. 

Where he lacked in rhythm game skills, Bokuto excelled at basically everything else at the arcade. He took the lead, lacing your fingers together and pulling you between whatever machines got his attention. He got such a big lead in Mario Kart you refused to play a second game. To make it up to you (as if you hadn’t rubbed in your multiple victories at DDR and Taiko), he won a prize at four crane games in a row, gifting each trinket with a pleased smile. Seeing a cute alien keychain bounce against the rest of the charms on your bag made your stomach flip. 

Bokuto had worked his way into so many parts of your life already. The realization was as anxiety-inducing as it was thrilling. It was easy to think about everything that could go wrong, filling gaps with self-doubt. But it was just as easy to look forward and brace yourself for life and whatever it brought to you. 

You thought about Bokuto, butterflies and fist-pumps. You thought about the way Emiyo lovingly rolled her eyes everytime you said something she thought was stupid. You thought about the way Ita always shared his bento with you, and how Takami believed in you even when you didn’t believe in yourself. You thought about your brother’s drunken confession last New Year’s, he wanted to marry Reo–as soon as he finished university, he was going to propose. You thought about Reo–gentle hands developing your film, soft eyes listening to you spill your guts on a park bench, giggling into your brother’s shoulder during his drunk holiday confession. You thought of your mom leaving notes for you throughout the house, little smiley faces and hearts dotting everything, and the way your dad would text you a photo of food when he missed you. 

For the first time in a long time–maybe what felt like your whole life–you were excited about the future. Sure, it was still terrifying to think about things like figuring out what to do after graduation or if your friends were going to drift apart in a few month’s time or any other seemingly terrifying adult problem that kept you up at night. But you weren’t alone. You’d never been alone. 

Your relationship with time was a funny one: selfishly, you stole slivers through a viewfinder. Shuddering moment after moment in a desperate attempt to stop, pause, let-you-catch-your-breath, remember, dream. Sometimes you felt like your thievery would come back to haunt you, like time would come for its penance. You still felt the compulsion to rest your finger on the shudder, greedy for whatever scraps of the universe you could stamp on film. Instead of feeling like there wasn’t enough time, though, you were starting to get the feeling that there would never be enough time–

“Hey, hey, Kuma-chan.” Bokuto wrapped his fingers around your wrist, thumb pressing to your pulse point. His face was scrunched in concentration or concern. Maybe a mixture of the two. “Are you okay? Is your sugar dropping or something? I think we passed a crepe stand on the way here. No, we definitely did because I really wanted to stop but you were bragging about your high score–” you scoffed, he smirked but continued otherwise unbothered, “–and you were so cute, I didn’t wanna interrupt you. If this is a sugar emergency, we have options.”

You did have options. 

The best choice obviously being pushing Bokuto against a broken down machine in one of the many desolate retro game aisles and kissing him until your lips were swollen and someone was clearing their throat loudly, asking the two of you to leave the arcade. You laughed all the way to the crepe stand around the corner. 

There were only two trains running in Fukurodani’s direction by the time Bokuto managed to pull up the schedule on his phone. He missed the first one because halfway to the station he decided to go back to the crepe stand and buy something for Akaashi. Tasked with getting it back to campus (and not eating it along the way, despite buying an extra for himself for the trip) gave Bokuto a reason to stay on track on the way to the station. He only stopped to kiss you twice, and you were only briefly distracted by a fluffy black cat perched on a set of stairs as you passed. There was an announcement running when you got to the station, a five minute warning, but the train was still there so it was a win in your book. 

Bokuto’s eyes flitted between the gate and you, his teeth holding his bottom lip. “I should probably go.”

“Probably.”

Instead of stepping towards the train, he took a step towards you. Even though he’d spent the better part of the afternoon kissing you, his hands still shook a little as he cupped your chin and tilted your head towards his. It was the tenderset kiss you’d gotten all day, soft and yearning. It was a kiss that said “I miss you already” . At least, that’s what you hoped your kiss said back. From the starry eyed look Bokuto was giving you, you were pretty sure he understood. 

“Let me know when you get home.”

“You too. And if Akaashi-san likes his crepe.”

“Okay. Don’t forget to ask your mom about going to the sanctuary next week.”

The bird sanctuary in Karuizawa–the one with the trails and the bird baths. The team didn’t have practice on Thursdays during the summer, and he wanted to go on another date. The birds were chattery this time of year, apparently, and Bokuto wanted to take you to the sanctuary. “ The weather will be nice for the trails, too,” he pitched–as if you’d need to be convinced to go anywhere or do anything if he was involved, “And I’ll bring lots of snacks, I promise.”  

“I will.” 

“And make sure you send me a picture of Totoro in his new home.” 

Your hand instinctively went to your bag, palming over the lump where the plushie Totoro crane prize was tucked away, then leaned up and pressed a kiss to Bokuto’s cheek. “I will, but Bokkun, you really should go. I don’t want you to miss the train when we’re standing right here.”

“Yeah,” he huffed. “You’re right. Okay, okay.” Your name rolled off his lips like honey. “I like you so much. Today was… today was awesome. Let’s have more days like today.” 

Let’s have more days like today.

You didn’t know what to say, so you nodded and pressed a quick kiss to his lips. If you weren’t interrupted by a departure announcement, you could have kissed him all night. Bokuto grinned, stumbling over his feet as he ran backwards so he could yell his goodbye to you. 

Before the train could really start moving, you reached into your bag and pulled out your camera. It was second nature, powering it on and setting the shot. Your finger slotted against the metal trigger, and you looked at the station through the viewfinder. The setting sun filtered through arches and buildings, shadows stacking like abstract blocks on the near empty platform. It was dark enough that you could see inside the lit train, all the empty padded seats… and Koutarou, waving at you through the glass.

Your finger pressed the release, and you waved back.

[writteninkat]

Sloth | Bokuto x Reader

summary: Just your normal slow sunday with sleeping in, cuddles and lazy fucks with your fiancé.

word count: 570

warnings: just a lil bit of cockwarming, breeding

a/n: i've been imagining and day dreaming about lazy fucks with Bo recently... mmm( ◡‿◡ *)

• 100 follower event

Lazy sunday for you and Bokuto means sleeping in, no training, no work, just the two of you having the whole day together.

You wake up a bit too early than when you usually do during sundays. The sun is barely showing itself when you're woken up from your sleep- something's poking you in the ass and you're sure your professional volleyball player fiance has something to do about it.

"Kou-"

Bokuto grumbles in his sleep, his hips grinding against yours as his clothed member begins digging in between your cheeks. You sigh, blaming it on all the tiring practices and training they've been having to prepare for nationals.

You pull down your grey satin shorts along with your black laced panties as you palm your boyfrind over his boxers. You close your eyes, still too tired to completely wake up but you want to do something, the very least for your tired and pent-up boyfriend.

You slip your cold fingers inside his shorts, his cock's temperature a complete contrast from your fingers. It felt very hot and hard, something you'd like to feel inside you soon.

You decide to pull his cock out of his shorts but as soon as you do, you feel calloused hands slip underneath your red stain button-up, the matching top to your shorts. Bokuto's hands roam up from your stomach to your boobs, hand easily cupping your breast as his fingers twist and tug your nipples, playing with them. "What do you think you're doing?" Bokuto mutters against your ear, his other hand slipping from underneath your side, snaking towards your cunt.

"What do you think you're doing? Grinding against my ass like that at 4am." You shake your ass, moving it backwards to push it back against his hard cock. You feel his fingers toy with your folds, he massages circles against your clit, stimulating an orgasm.

"I'm too tired, baby." You whisper, Bokuto's lazy circles on par with your lazy strokes. "Then just do the bare minimum, please I just need you so bad right now." He whispers back, taking his hand from your breast to position his dick against your cunt.

He pushes his cock inside you, the stretch of your hole from the activities the night before has carved your cunt into his shape. The thought of this has Bokuto wanting you more. He thrusts softly into you, his other hand returning to your breast as he fondles and plays with them.

"You're shaped just like me inside." Bokuto points out, his soft yet deep thrusts unyielding. "Mmmm, just shows who I belong to." Your words causes your fiance to grunt, his fingers pressing harder against your clit as he plays with it.

His thrusts become a little faster but sloppier and in turn your walls begin clenching around him, signaling both of your orgasms. Bokuto presses his lips against your nape before digging his teeth on the skin, your walls milking him as he continues to thrust inside you, helping you ride out your orgasm.

When the two of you finish, you move to pull out only for your fiance to pull you back to him, burying himself dipper within your cum-covered velvety walls. "Let me stay inside you, baby. You feel so warm..." Bokuto mumbles, sleep slowly reaching him.

You smile, letting out a sigh. "I love you, Kou."

"I love you more, baby."

Navigation

[starfinss]

Wingman — Akaashi Keiji

Fandom: Haikyuu!!

Summary: Bokuto heard you like Akaashi and decides to be your wingman. It goes about as well as it sounds.

Pairing: Akaashi Keiji x Reader

Rating: Fluff, humor (SFW)

Word Count: 1,779

“Do you like Akaashi?”

You choked on your rice at Bokuto’s sudden question, sending you into a violent coughing fit as you pounded on your chest in an attempt to clear your throat.

“I’m sorry, what?!” You said once you could speak, taking a large swallow of water from your bottle.

Bokuto looked blankly at you, owlishly, which was sort of his default expression. “I asked if you liked Akaashi.”

You sent a glance to Yukie, who seemed to be trying her best to look innocent.

“Who,” you said pointedly, and you watched Yukie’s facade break, just a smidge, “told you something like that?”

Bokuto inclined his head in said girl’s direction. “Her.”

You sighed, running a hand through your hair. “Yukie, I told you not to tell anyone. And you told him of all people?”

A pause, then offense flashed across Bokuto’s face. “Hey!”

Yukie made a pained noise. “I’m sorry! It kind of just… slipped out. We were talking about how Akaashi never seems to date anyone, and I remembered what you told me and I just… I couldn’t stop talking!”

“No offense, Yukie, but Bokuto isn’t the best at keeping secrets.”

“Hey hey, I can keep secrets!”

You pressed your lips into a thin line, hands flattened against your temples.

“Okay, prove it by keeping this one. I haven’t told Akaashi because I’ve never seen him ever show me any sign that he feels the same.”

Bokuto took a large bite of his sandwich. “Just tell ‘im anyway. What’s the worst that could happen?”

You sighed. “Don’t talk with your mouth full, it’s disgusting. And I dunno, he could reject me?”

Bokuto swallowed loudly, a splitting grin growing on his face.

“Well, what about this, (L/N). How about I be your wingman? Ey?”

Your mind flooded with all the ways that idea could go wrong, and the bad outweighed the good.

“No. No, Bokuto—“

“Come on, (L/N), let me help! I know Akaashi better than anyone, we’re best friends! I wanna do this for you, come on, let me!”

Bokuto was relentless on and off the court, and he was hard to argue with. He did know Akaashi the best, you’d give him that, even while you were friends with the quiet setter as well. Being team manager with Yukie really did have its perks.

And Akaashi really was too pretty for his own good.

You could benefit from Bokuto’s help, even if something would undoubtedly go terribly wrong in the process.

“Fine,” you relented, resulting in loud cheers, the sounds drawing the attention of the people eating lunch around you.

You exchanged a weary look with Yukie.

“I hate you,” you said, and she smiled.

“I know.”

Your eyes flicked back to Bokuto, who was bouncing in his seat.

“I have a plan.”

You put another bite of rice in your mouth. If this was going to be as insane as you thought it was going to be, you’d need a full stomach.

“Tell me.”

————————

Bokuto’s plan was horrible.

The first one he gave you involved you just walking up and kissing Akaashi, but your use of some choice language in response to that made Bokuto change tactics.

“Go into a closet—“

“No.”

“I could lock—“

“Bo!”

He groaned. “Let me talk!”

“Then stop giving me plans that could result in me being utterly humiliated!”

“Fine! Then try this. Just get him alone after practice and ask him to walk you home.”

You frowned. “We do that every day anyway. We live two houses apart.”

“Toss him some sets!”

Yukie made a frustrated noise. “I’m going to lock you in the club room.”

You gave her a fearful look. “Me?”

“No. Bokuto. But maybe you if we can’t come up with something.”

You closed your now empty lunch box. “So you’re in on this too, now?”

She grinned. “I’ve always been in on this.”

Anger simmered in the pit of your stomach. “Did you tell him on purpose?”

“What?” Yukie said, then paled. “No. That really was an accident. All I’m saying is I support you.”

“Well,” you sighed, “that’s something, I guess.”

“Lock you in the club room!” Bokuto cried, and the expression on his face coupled with the triumphant tone in his voice made it seem very much like he’d struck gold.

You paused. “What?”

“I was joking, Bo,” said Yukie.

“No, but it could work!”

It could. But you were pretty sure Akaashi had a key, so it would be kind of useless to put him in a situation he could easily get out of. And, to further this, you also had a key. Bokuto pouted when you relayed this to him.

“Come on, (L/N), let me be your wingman!”

You rolled your eyes. “Isn’t that what I’m doing? All you’re giving me is stuff like ‘lock yourself in a closet.’”

“It could work!”

The bell rang, signaling the end of the lunch period, and you stood up, stretching your arms above your head.

“I’ll see you guys at practice,” you said, “text me if you get any new ideas.”

————————

Practice was somewhat of a nightmare. Of course, it went as well as it usually did, the gym full of Bokuto’s victorious shouts and Akaashi and the other club member’s sarcastic quips. But that wasn’t the problem. Every time something needed to be fetched or the water needed to be refilled, either Yukie or Bokuto, usually with matching grins, suggested you go with Akaashi. Akaashi, of course, shut this down fairly quickly since he had no need to assist you with such menial tasks.

But Bokuto didn’t stop there, no. It was too much to hope a hurricane would stop in its path.

Because during a break, Akaashi approached you.

“Is there any reason why Bokuto is constantly asking me to compliment you?”  He said as he dried his face with a towel.

You furrowed your eyebrows, dread sinking into the pit of your stomach. “He’s doing what?!”

“Asking me to-“

“No, I heard you. I just can’t believe he’s doing that.”

Akaashi blinked, oblivious to the situation. “Is there a problem, (L/N)?”

You sighed. “Yeah. No, I don’t know. This is a mess.”

From what Akaashi told you, Bokuto had started showering you with random compliments, then asked Akaashi if he agreed.

“I just want to know why he’s doing that. Do you think he has a crush on you?”

You shook your head. “No. This is… It’s something else. I don’t really want to talk about it, sorry Akaashi.”

He looked worried all of a sudden. “Is there something wrong?”

Your eyes went wide. “No! I’m fine, really. I just— I can’t talk about it.”

“Why?” Bokuto said, strolling over, and you deflated, “do you not trust him?”

“Bo,” you warned, speaking between gritted teeth, “not. Now.”

“Isn’t this what winging is?”

Akaashi looked deeply confused. “Winging? What is that supposed to mean? Did you make up a word for spiking?”

Bokuto seemed affronted. “No! I’m her… Her man wing—“

“It’s called wingman, Bo,” you muttered.

He was going to give you away.

“Tell him, (L/N), he thinks you’re pretty, smart-“

Akaashi blinked. “You asked me what I thought about that, Bokuto.”

Bokuto faked shock. “So you don’t really think those things?”

“I never said I didn’t.”

Bokuto gave a squawk you could only assume was a cry of victory. “See? See, (L/N) Akaashi thinks you’re pretty! You gotta tell him, tell him now!”

You looked at Bokuto with pure murder in your eyes, and he seemed to falter.

“Tell me what?!”

“Akaashi!” You cried, “talk to me outside, would you?”

You looked sharply at Bokuto.

You buried your head in your hands once you were outside. “ I might as well just come out and say it, because we both know Bokuto isn’t about to quit. That massive meathead is trying to be my wingman because he found out I like you today.”

You sent Yukie a murderous look as she passed the open door, raising your voice a bit as you spoke. “Because someone told him.”

She looked sheepish.

You closed the door, only breaking eye contact with her when you couldn’t keep in anymore due to the new barrier between you.

“Well, that’s fine,” Akaashi said, “I like you, too.”

You worried your lip between your teeth. “I understand if— Wait what?”

Akaashi looked at you blankly. “I like you too, (L/N).”

You were at a loss for words. “You never gave me any signs that you liked me too.”

Akaashi leaned against the door. “I walk you home every night.”

You frowned. “We’re literally neighbors.”

“That’s beside the point. Why do you think I bring you breakfast to eat while we walk to school?”

You blushed. “I thought you were being nice.”

“No,” Akaashi stepped forward, letting his hands fall to your shoulders, “no, (L/N). I like you. You’re an incredible person, and I thought I was making myself clear with my advances.”

Well, you decided, you were a dumbass.

“Wanna… Go get something to eat sometime?” You asked, voice quiet, and Akaashi nodded.

“I thought you’d never ask.”

He kissed you, and you swear you forgot how to breathe, that you forgot your own name. You sighed softly, reaching up to thread your fingers into his hair. Akaashi was an intense young man, and kissing him, even if it was simple and innocent, was just as intense. You felt him wrap his arms around your waist with a heartbreaking tenderness, nose brushing yours as his lips pressed and ghosted against your own.

It was cold outside, but you didn’t care, not when his lips were so soft and gentle.

The door opened abruptly and you heard a shout that could only have belonged to Bokuto. You felt Akaashi smile against your mouth before he pulled back.

“I am the best wingman!” He cried, “Hey, hey, hey!”

You laughed. It felt good to laugh, especially when Akaashi was still holding you so close.

“You are, Bo,” you confirmed, resulting in more cheering.

“Akaashi got a girlfriend!” He shouted as he ran inside, and you couldn’t help but smile.

“Is that what you want to be?” Akaashi asked, and you nodded.

“Yes.” You were unable to hide your grin.

“Then it’s official.” Akaashi kissed your nose, then stepped back.

“I will hold your hand when we walk home.”

You blushed at his bluntness. “I’ll hold you to that.”

“Nice pun!” You heard Yukie shout, and you groaned.

“I hate both of you!”

You didn’t. But the smile that ghosted Akaashi’s lips as you said the words was worth it.

So was the burning kiss he gave you after practice, and the feeling of his hand in yours as you walked home.

Maybe having Bokuto’s help, as disastrous as it had been, wasn’t so bad after all.

[watevermelon]

Quiet Sort of Love | Sakusa Kiyoomi x Reader

✧ Summary: Manager to the Fukurōdani volleyball club, there was no doubt that Itachiyama’s Sakusa Kiyoomi was a strong ace. He brought your team to their knees on multiple occasions, but what you were not expecting was getting to know the nationally acclaimed spiker beyond just the titles and labels.

✧ Warnings: Implicating language and slight spoilers toward the end (you will be warned beforehand :)) 

✧ Notes: Buckle up boys cause this is a LONG one LMAO -> lots of fluff, angst, slight BokuAka, character development, mutual pining at one point, and just me being sentimental over one of my favorite teams  -> #SummerWrites for these! I tended to write fluffier stories

✧  Masterlist 

If someone asked you for the full story, there was no way you could explain it. One moment, you were in junior high, relatively enjoying your time on the track team. The next, you were attending Fukurōdani Academy without a clue to which club you wanted to commit to. 

While you could have rejoined the track team, you were not especially good at sprints and had only done so for your friends at the time. Now, there was a much more daunting pressure about what you were going to be committing your time to. Akaashi has suggested you take-up the open managerial role for the volleyball club, since you were unsure you wanted to truly dedicate yourself to any sport. And, somehow within a couple days of that conversation, with the eccentric introductions of second-years Yukie and Kaori, the current managers, you were attending their volleyball practice on a trial session.

Fast-forward a few weeks and it was already the best decision you had made in your first-year of being a Fukurōdani Academy student.

They were dedicated to their sport, their passion easily radiating off of them and to onlookers watching a simple set. It was what entranced you to begin with - their strong zeal that easily drew others into their bubble. Yes, you were a powerhouse school with a long history of being winners. But it was the people that encompassed the team that drew it closer to your heart.

From the confident yet silly second-year Bokuto, to the mother hen Akaashi, you made fast friends with the team and the other managers.

There were times that you had to remind yourself that Bokuto, the same Vice Captain and nationally rising spiker to gain acclaim, was the same Bokuto who had accidentally locked himself out of his dorm room only to find his lanyard in his back pocket.

And, while reminding yourself of Bokuto, you remembered the text you received from the team group-chat early that morning. You had gone home for the weekend to pick-up some stuff from your family home, the place of residence sitting outside Shibuya and a good thirty-minutes by train away from the inner city. 

But, it was a short-lived trip since the next morning you had to return back to the dorms for a practice match set with your school’s supposed long-term rivals: Itachiyama. GC: Hoot Hoot ⊹⋛⋋(◐⊝◑)⋌⋚⊹

6:15 ahKASHi (๑ᵕ⌓ᵕ̤)         oh no

6:15 Kaori _へ__(‾◡◝ )>         (L/N)-chan pls tell me your awake

6:15 yukie-yukie (｡♥‿♥｡)         (F/N)-chan you are our only hope

6:20 yukie-yukie (｡♥‿♥｡)         @Y/N !!!!

6:23 mother-hen^2 (ﾟ⊿ﾟ)         I’m awake!!

6:23 ahKASHi (๑ᵕ⌓ᵕ̤)         Please tell me you can pick-up some Dorayaki on your way to the school

6:23 mother-hen^2 (ﾟ⊿ﾟ)         ah yes, the patented bokuto revival snacc?

6:24 haaaruki !         thnk u mom

6:24 mother-hen^2 (ﾟ⊿ﾟ)          >.>

6:24 ahKASHi (๑ᵕ⌓ᵕ̤)         Thank you, (L/N)-san. 💓

And true to your word, or text rather, you stopped for the snack on your way back to the school. However, with the surprisingly crowded trains on this unfortunate weekend, you were near sprinting down the street once you got some open space. You wanted to still be on time, reasoning regardless, and with the pace of the crowd you were going to be way later than you expected. You rushed between trains, hopping onto the right transfer and letting your foot tap away in impatience as the train pushed onward.

Nearing the school, you were in a dead-sprint toward the entrance and only inwardly sighed at seeing the large school bus, from what you assumed was the rival school, covering the main gateway. You approached from the back of the bus, students filing out from the opposite end of where you were running. You did not want to glance down at your watch, afraid of the time you would see, and instead tried to inwardly navigate a way inside and around your obstacles. 

Athletic bags and groups of the students littered the area as they unloaded, forcing you to jump over their stuff if you did not want to break your speed. You were so dead-set in your sprint, you failed to notice the number of eyes on the bus following you in your run.

Just as you turned around the pillar, your speed and momentum came to a stop as you crashed into an unsuspecting student. His hands were in his pockets, a mask covering most of his face, but even you saw the surprised look as his hands shot out to steady the both of you.

Immediately, the dark-haired athlete was chastising you, “Watch where you are going.” The young man immediately pushed you off of him, not in an unkindly way but moreso he wanted his safe distance instantly.

You bowed and muttered out an, “I’m sorry!”

The glare of annoyance was obvious, but it only dropped down when he turned to look at his upturned palms, no longer hidden in his pockets but instead being stared at in a mortified way.

I mean, it’s not like you were dirty? You complained inwardly at his expression, but sucked it up anyway. You were the one who crashed into him and owed the apology anyway and so you could do your duty and then bid the supposed germaphobe goodbye.

Team Mom instincts already kicking in, you reached into your side-bag and took out a small pack of wet-wipes. You opened the container, and not one to incense him further, held it out for him to grab himself.

“An extension of my apology.” You stated at seeing his apprehension, before he took two and wiped his hands clean of your grime. 

It was hard to fight down the inward grimace at seeing this utter stranger be so offended at having even touched and breathed the same air as you.

“Komori, nice to meet you.” Another student came up to the two of you, having emerged from the pack of Itachiyama students. “Sorry for my friend here.”

“It was my mistake.” You stated.

“No worries. Nice to meet you, you on the track team?”

You shook your head before glancing down at your watch, losing more precious minutes that you could not afford to waste on a conversation like this. “Sorry, I’m running late. See you around!”

Bidding farewell to the group, who you were sure to see in just a few minutes, you bounded through the school and toward the back gymnasium. The net was already set-up, Akaashi standing toward the center as he warmed-up the spikers, matching up with their heights before the other team made their appearance.

You waved at him as you entered, holding up a bag containing half a dozen of Bokuto’s snacks, before placing it in the careful hands of Kaori. Akaashi thanked you genuinely, only to be surprised when you handed him an iced-latte in a cold glass from the store as well. He smiled, before putting it in the cooler for his undoubted headache later. Yukie looked at you with a curious smile, to which you threw two capri-suns at her - the drink secretly one of her favorites.

They thanked you before rushing back to positions and responsibilities, either continuing to warm-up or simply prep the gym for the other’s arrival. You did as you were told, then lined up to attention when the doors opened to greet your rival school.

While it was only a practice match, the team had already filled you in on the reason behind the unending tension between the two schools. Bokuto spun a tale of wild rivalry spanning generations while Akaashi stated plainly that they had not yet won against Itachiyama in recent years.

Seeing the germaphobe from earlier in the line-up, you stood quiet while the volleyball members silently introduced themselves. Your third-year captain, in his ever so passive-aggressive ire, tightly gripped the hand of the other Itachiyama captain. You fought the urge to roll your eyes and instead let your vision scan the line-up.

The tension was only more palpable during the game. Fukurōdani had practice matches before, but none so eerily… quiet.

Yes, there was intra-team communication and words of encouragement between teammates…  but nothing else.

During the practice match with Shinzen, your third-year teammates acted like old friends with some of those students. They even offered some pointers regarding serves between the two schools. And that school was categorized as a rival to your own as well. Shinzen was in the Fukurōdani group after all - they were your close rivals if anything.

But it seemed that the rivalry between Itachiyama and Fukurōdani ran even deeper than that.

Bokuto’s excitement, while usually cute and endearing, definitely contributed to the current atmosphere as well. Bokuto was naturally loud and with every point he scored, there was a chorus right after from yours truly. But, without an audience to drown out his cheers and the Fukurōdani third-years looking seriously quiet, the tiny Bokuto celebration grated on the nerves of the other team.

You watched the young man from earlier, mask gone from his face now and instead replaced with his own brand of quiet determination, as he ran up and smoothly spiked the ball. The action seemed so natural, it was only when the resounding slap signified again how loud and powerful he truly was, the ball smashing into the ground and landing somewhere behind the upper-risers.

That was incredible strength, you thought inwardly, feeling a similar awe you felt the first time you saw the true power behind Bokuto’s spike.

The awed expression on your face quickly squashed down to grimace, remembering this was the guy you had awkwardly crashed into earlier.

“What’s with that face?” Yukie asked, spying you from the corner of her eye. She stood parallel to you, both of you manning the standing scoreboard. Kaori was sitting with the coach, pen in hand as she took notes on the game.

You put back on your neutral visage as you flipped the score number, “That guy who just spiked, he was the one that I bumped into on the way here.”

“Sakusa-san?”

“Yeah...” You affirmed, trying to subtly point in his direction with your gaze alone.

She looked at you with an amused expression, patting you on the back in pity.

Fukurōdani lost the practice match.

And while a part of you was inwardly hissing, there was no doubt that both schools gave their all and the better ended up on top. The third-years commended the team, they were still in the process of finding their rhythm. After all, the points were not that far apart to being with. Having lost 2:1, you noted that the points were relatively close in all three sets.

Bokuto’s displeasure was obvious, complaining loudly that he should have worked on his jump-serve more, but still shaking everyone’s hands at the call of the game.

With both teams working to clean the gymnasium, you walked over to the net to help loosen it and fold the poles. Some of the team members of either side were lightly mingling, commending each other on certain skills while introducing themselves.

You spotted Sakusa in the corner, having helped put away the mats already and retreating to the spot furthest from the crowd. Fighting the urge to bemusedly chuckle at the action, your attention snapped to Komori approaching you, a water-bottle in hand.

“From your running earlier - thought you were a member of the track team.”

You smiled in a friendly manner, “Nope, just a manager of the volleyball club.”

He shot a smile back, “I see. I missed your name earlier...?”

Sheepishly rubbing the back of your neck, embarrassed over forgetting your introduction to your senior, “(L/N) (F/N), nice to meet you!”

“Nice to meet you, too!” He repeated back your words before adding, “How cute.”

You angled your head in question, surprised at his boldness and flabbergasted from replying.

He continued, “So, are you -”

“Yes, this is all good and well.” An arm swung across your shoulders as the owner cut him off, “But we better help our team out.”

Yukie shot a wink over her shoulder, whisking you to the other end of the room as someone else took over helping breakdown the net. You shot her a curious look, before your attention was grabbed back to the corner Sakusa was inhabiting.

It seemed Bokuto had found him, issuing a direct challenge to the other wing-spiker for their next match. Seeing your teammate, boisterous and loud, next to the quiet and narrow-eyed Sakusa was such a direct contrast; you had to remind yourself that they played the same role on their teams.

Bokuto grumbled the rest of the night, which only continued into the weekdays at school. You formed a study group for a particularly painful math class. And currently, said group had some vbc members crowded around a round table in the library. Most occupants preferred to spill the tea - Yukie and Konoha always had something regarding their second-year class. 

Which ironically left the younger two to herd the group. You tended to go with the flow. Which left Akaashi, the ever so smarty-pants honors student, to often lead the charge. (He also grumbled that you teased him about this fact, but you were also in the same honors classes yourself.)

You got in five pages worth of outlining before the conversation shifted. Focus on the class was easily torn as Haruki brought out a monthly volleyball magazine.

“Check it out, an entire profile on Sakusa Kiyoomi.” The libero stated, opening up the magazine as Konoha leaned over to look.

“Wow, lots of eyes are already on him.” Kaori stated.

“Anyone who saw him play during junior high would know he’s one to watch during Interhigh.” Haruki voiced.

“Well, I’m in the top four.” Bokuto muttered, arms crossed as he read along the magazine.

Akaashi sighed, putting down his pencil as his curiosity grabbed his attention, eyes straying to the article as well. Besides, Sakusa was a first-year just like the two of you, if he was this much of a threat it would be good to soak up any useful information on him

“The photograph looks a little far, don’t you think?” Yukie said with an unsure smile, pointing to the stiff Sakusa standing at least ten feet away from the photographer. “They couldn’t have zoomed in at all?”

“Maybe this is zoomed?” Konoha asked with a brow raised. 

You took a look and fought the urge to grimace aloud, you could barely tell it was him either. The action shot on one page was good, but for their interview photo he was covered completely with a mask and hat, just his eyes visible and still relatively far away from the photographer.

“Well, I don’t expect anything less from a germaphobe like him.” You commented, before turning back to your notebook. 

You saw multiple occupants’ expressions reel back in surprise before curiously looking toward you.

Kaori voiced their curiosity with a raised brow, “And how do you know that?”

“I - I bumped into him before the game!” You cursed your weak resolve, hands coming up in defense. 

“WHA?!” Bokuto asked, making you realize you only told Yukie about the prior encounter. The librarian shushed your group with a disapproving stare, before walking away. “You knew his weakness this whole time?”

Konoha laughed, “What are you going to do with that information? Sneeze on him during the next match?”

You shot eye contact with Yukie, the brunette simply shooting you teasing smirk as she leaned back in her chair. She was your older-senpai, but damn was the eccentric manager so ruthlessly teasing! Her love of food was the only clear read you could get off of her. Otherwise, it seemed like Yukie just loved to sow mischief.

“Wait. Weren’t you talking to their libero after the game? Was it Komori?” Haruki recalled, asking more out of curiosity then of seriousness.

“Um. Yes, well he introduced himself after I almost knocked over Sakusa-san.” You explained, nearly sweating buckets at some of the second-years’ gazes.

“Wait, knocked him over?” Konoha asked, glancing back down at his textbook to place a pen in it, then close it entirely.

“Well, I was running and didn’t see him when I turned the corner!” You continued to explain.

“Sure, sure.” Yukie waved off, sitting up and then sipping from her water bottle.

“I was rushing to bring the snacks - come on guys, you know this!” You defended, a sheepish smile on your face now as the other occupants varied from teasing to surprised.

“(L/N)-san, didn’t the teacher ask us to get something for her?” Akaashi cut in, already in the process of putting some of his study materials away.

You breathed a silent sigh in relief, agreeing and mimicking his actions as you readied to leave the sudden hot library. Yukie’s teasing was enough, but once Konoha and the rest started rolling it was all over from there.

“Yes, let’s get going.” You accepted immediately as you organized your school things, “See you all after class.”

Somehow, Akaashi was already up from the table and waiting for you at the door. You followed behind him quickly, going in the direction of your next class. Entering it, there were a few lingering students - some on their phone, others listening to music - but otherwise the two of you were alone.

You felt a small vibration from the pocket of your skirt, checking the messages from the infamous instigators of your group.

GC: Hoot Hoot ⊹⋛⋋(◐⊝◑)⋌⋚⊹

12:15 yukie-yukie (｡♥‿♥｡)           Nice receive, Akaashi

12:15 yukie-yukie (｡♥‿♥｡)           ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

12:15 BROkuto ᕙ( * •̀ ᗜ •́ * )ᕗ           cmon ahkaaashi; don’t you want to spend time with me? :C

12:15 yukie-yukie (｡♥‿♥｡)            Enjoy your alone time ;)

12:15 haaaruki !           yah “studying” ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

Akaashi had a dead-panned expression back on his face, undoubtedly reading the same messages you had just skimmed through. The young man was so smart and quiet, and yet so silently sassy, you really cherished having him as your friend. Akaashi was the mother-hen of the group, undoubtedly, but you wondered how blessed your team was so to have such a patient and thoughtful setter in your ranks.

The two of you relished the silence of the room, sitting next to each other for this class, and resuming the earlier studying that you were interrupted from before. 

Life after this moved very quickly - thoughts of Itachiyama and the target named Sakusa was pushed in the back of your mind. Suddenly, your powerhouse of a volleyball club was having non-stop practice matches with others within the Fukurōdani Academy Group. Shinzen, known for their style of combination attacks, and Ubugawa, known for their serves, were two schools in Tokyo you often saw.

But, with them, came the introduction of Nekoma High School.

You almost felt bad for Akaashi after the first training camp with all three schools. Yes, you were familiar and friendly with the other schools, but with the introduction of middle-blocker Kuroo Tetsuro and his friend Kenma, it brought all sorts of adventures for your little group. He was certainly a sly cat, wielding the art of provocation like it was his second-skin. Fukurōdani had many practice matches with Nekoma throughout the spring semester, it was almost mentally jarring how quickly the Interhigh prelims crawled up on you.

Being friends with the other schools made the preliminary matches all the more intense - near screaming in support from the stands. You were friends with people in these other schools - managers whom you shared watermelon with in the scorching sun; and, forgetting volleyball, just teenagers whom you had seen at high school house parties throughout the semester - it was entirely personal during the prelims.

And while your school fell second to Itachiyama - you were excited to see your first ever nationals tournament.

To keep the teams organized in one spot, you were all staying in a swanky hotel not far from the sports center. It seemed to be a popular spot for other teams, since you had spotted familiar red and black athletic gear in the lobby when you entered. Nekoma was standing to the side by the chairs, Itachiyama littering the opposite area of the lobby.

Bokuto immediately bounded over to Kuroo and Kenma, Akaashi following behind begrudgingly, citing he did not want the spiker to wander off and get lost. Your eyes followed them, waving a hand at the Nekoma duo as you mentally weighed joining their conversation. Scanning the rest of the room, your eyes landed on Sakusa in the nearby corner with Komori hovering nearby.

Just as you made eye-contact with the libero, he waved you over with a friendly smile.

“Hey - good to see you, (L/N)-san.” Komori greeted, you waved back and made the small walk over.

“Hey to you too.” You replied, looking at both boys.

“Hi, (L/N)-san.” Sakusa stated back, as curt as ever. He was leaned against the wall, hands hidden in his pockets again. His eyes skipped over you quickly before looking away and scanning the room - you fought the urge to inwardly laugh at how easy he was to read at the moment.

For someone so collected and intimidating on the court, there was something so amusing at seeing him so on edge at the moment.

You were about to say something when someone called your name from behind. Waving a quick goodbye, you skipped back over to your team, seeing it was Akaashi who was herding you back to the group. 

It was only when you got in the elevator that you realized something - Sakusa remembered your last name.

Biting your lip in confusion, you thought to the last time you talked to either boy. You only gave your name to Komori during that first initial practice match - maybe Sakusa overhead and just had a good memory? Whatever the case may be, it was not the time to be looking into things. You shook your head, focusing on the present as you turned back to whatever Bokuto was talking about.

The coaches gave you time to organize yourselves before warming up in the nearby gym. With three managers for your team, it was agreed beforehand that you would fight on equal ground for the beds. Whoever won would get the bed to themselves while the other two would share. And yesterday, Kaori claimed herself the victor and you were sharing with Yukie.

Plopping your stuff down, you all got down to business as you organized the room quickly, heading out for auxiliary practice, and then herding the group at dinner.

After dinner, you were still bursting with energy. Excitement, anticipation - all of that was coursing through your veins for the events tomorrow. It seemed that the other managers were facing something similar, since neither had taken a bath yet and gotten ready for bed. Instead, Yukie was still in her outdoor clothes while Kaori was on her phone, scrolling through her social media feed.

Yukie turned to you with a mischievous smile, her brown eyes reflecting nothing but trouble when she finally asked, “So, seen any cute boys yet?”

You sputtered at the randomness of the question, “What?”

Kaori laughed, but then admitted. “Well, we are in the area with some of the best volleyball players in high school. Can’t deny some of them are handsome.”

You could not help the giggle in response, as Yukie added. “Hmm, you right. Some of them are looking so gooood.”

“Oh my god.” There were no words you had prepared for this moment.

Yukie looked at you before incling her head, “Come on, even Bokuto is looking mighty fine when he’s in the zone.”

“I -- “ You stuttered, was she looking for a response? 

“Don’t you think Bokuto has such a fine ass?” Yukie asked, “Like damn boy you looking thicc!”

Uhhhhh.

“Lay off.” Kaori came to your defense, or so you thought. “She’s more into the Akaashi-type, right?”

“Strong, but silent?” Yukie asked, “Quiet, but could easily snap your neck with his thighs?”

You blanched at the idea of your reserved friend doing any of the sort.

“No way! He’s just a friend.” You countered immediately.

“Hmmm, sure.” Yukie responded, “When Kuroo shuts his mouth, it makes me want to put it somewhere else.”

“Bruh.” You voiced as you laughed, slapping your reddening cheeks. 

Was this something they usually talked about during nationals? The conversation seemed so natural to the both of them - neither blushing or phased at talking about the other attractive men within your prefecture. Just thinking about any of them in a romantic light had you blushing, how on earth could they talk about this so naturally?

“True, but have you seen Sakusa?” Kaori countered, the conversation carrying on.

“Sakusa would be hotter if he allowed anyone within ten feet of him.” Yukie waved off before turning to you with a wink. “Well, I saw you talking to him today.”

You thought back to the interaction with a grimace, “More like a hello before he shut-down the conversation.”

“Think he’s cute?” Kaori asked, this time.

You thought back to him during the practice match, strong and confident when on the court and mask hidden away. But then again, you thought back to all your actual interactions, and grimaced.

You answered candidly, “I mean, I’m not blind. He’s attractive, but I barely know him.”

Yukie giggled, “I’m not saying you have to marry him!”

Kaori giggled and you felt your cheeks flame-up. You felt your embarrassment creep up your throat and blurted out, “Okay, he’s hella attractive and when he spikes it sets me on fire! Like ok - can he smack my ass like a drum??”

Yukie slapped you on the shoulder in jest as Kaori’s laughter got louder. Yukie replied, “Damn girl - I didn’t know you were into that sort of stuff.”

You were redder than Nekoma’s colors at this point, embarrassment at an all time high at having admitted something that even you were not aware of. Kaori and Yukie were so easy to talk to, so funny to be around, they really took away your one brain-cell sometimes.

“But I totally agree - when he snaps his wrist against the ball… well.” She ended the sentence with raised brows, both of you catching onto her mischievous face.

Kaori giggled and you could not help but laugh aloud at this point - you loved the other managers so much, they made wild conversations like this so easy. 

You started braiding your hair, conversation shifting to the boys in class at Fukurōdani. And while you admitted it was rather small-minded of you to say, you honestly could not remember a lot of the other student body outside of the volleyball club. You spent almost every free minute of your time on the club - many of the faces outside your class blurring to the side as your priorities lay elsewhere.

Just as you finished your hair, a small sound broke out in the room, Yukie picking up her phone as it vibrated against the bed. The brunette took one look at the caller ID, got up and winked at the two of you, before leaving the hotel room entirely. You turned to Kaori with a curious look, who simply shrugged and said it was probably some cute boy she was talking to.

You accepted it casually, before getting up yourself and putting on your outdoor shoes. You still had all this pent-up, enthused energy - maybe a run would do you good to calm your mind. Voicing this to the other manager, she agreed before laying back down on her bed.

The lobby areas were still littered with other volleyball club members in their casual clothes, some from other schools and some from your own. Some of the third-years were mingling, undoubtedly high-energy for this being one of the last few tournaments they would be participating in.

Putting headphones in, you started your run toward areas you personally knew and were relatively populated at this time of night. Certain areas of Tokyo were always bustling, and so you stuck to roads nearby the main one. Your mind, which was reeling only a few minutes before, was surprising blank during your run. Your focus was on the path ahead of you and the music surrounding you - it felt that simple somehow.

No team entered tournaments to lose - that was obvious. Everyone on this level of the competition had a hug leg over the average team - geniuses, prodigies, top spikers in the entire nation - they were all gathering here for the next few days.

Your team were the protagonists of the world - that was what you repeated in your head like a mantra for the past few days.

Fukurōdani were going to do more than just compete in nationals - they were going to win, you were confident.

“Pour all your soul into each ball.” You repeated, remembering the official banner for your powerhouse of a school.

The confidence in your team was overflowing, any lingering nerves flowing away as you continued on your focused run. And so when a crack of thunder was louder than your music - you reeled back in surprise and turned your attention upward at the sky.

Groaning, you ran over to the side of a building to huddle under a pagoda awning, other people doing the same as you and crowding the area. The weather quickly upturned from a calm night to a sudden downpour. There was nothing about rain in the forecast and this afternoon the sky was a pretty blue - had you just not noticed before?

Cursing your lack of foresight, you took out your headphones and stored them in the fanny pack across your chest. Recognizing the shops around this area, you were only ten minutes from the hotel by run. But, dodging the rain and ducking under pagoda’s would probably make it about a half hour. You considered briefly waiting out the rain, but also did not want to get stuck out late in the case that it did not let-up soon. 

Already decided, you were planning out your trek back to the hotel when you scanned everyone else around you. Turning to the other people taking refuge, you could not help the surprise on your face at seeming a familiar person huddled all the way in the back corner.

Sakusa, in all his might, was emanating serious waves of discomfort only a few feet away from you.

What were the odds of this happening? Was this some sort of karmic energy from the universe, due to the conversation you had earlier?

You walked over the spiker, waving a hello and receiving a nod in greeting.

“Looks like we had the same idea, Sakusa-san.” You started, receiving nothing from the conversation but a blank stare.

Boy was he hard to talk to.

Not to be deterred, you continued. “I know the area pretty well. Feel free to come with me, so you’re not waiting out the rain too late?”

Sakusa nodded again silently, and when you turned your head in confusion on instinct, he voiced himself this time. “Thanks.”

You felt a smile crawl up your face as you turned, dodging between some of the street shops’ canopies and awnings in your quick pace. He followed you closely, not wanting to get any of the accursed rain on his bodice, you guessed. Still, it was hard to keep track of someone right behind you. 

This situation was altogether so strange - who would have thought that this would be the way you would be ending your day??

Not used to the silence - after all, your usual company was always bouncing with energy - you joked as you turned to him, “I guess this is where I should insert some proclamation of rivalry here?”

The only thing that signified he heard you was by the quirk of a smirk at the corner of his lip - was that amusement?? you wondered.

Stopping at the corner of the street, you had to run the crosswalk and make your way to the cafe’s awning across the way. You voiced this as you both waited for the stoplight to switch over.

“Are you nervous for tomorrow?” You questioned, filling in the dead air.

“No.”

“Ah, what was I thinking - a nationally ranked spiker like you…” You drew out sheepishly.

“No, as in my team does not play until the day after.” Sakusa explained, making you groan. You forgot - Itachiyama was seeded after all. 

“Oh, my bad.” You stated, losing all your earlier confidence to try to speak to him. 

Whatever expression was on your face must have made him feel bad, you assumed, since Sakusa turned to you and continued. “But I am looking forward to fighting Wakatoshi-kun.”

The inward book in your mind flipped open, recognizing the name and attempting to find the correct team it was associated with. “Ah, that nationally ranked spiker from Shiratorizawa Academy.”

“Yes, he is… a good benchmark to play against.” Sakusa explained, making you nod in agreement. “But our priority will be watching Fukurōdani’s match tomorrow morning.”

“Oh?”

“You took a set from us during the Representative Playoffs. We won’t let it happen again.”

You smiled at his words - just Itachiyama and Sakusa himself as a whole felt like a goal. The team was the only one ranked above yours in the prefecture. It was your goal to beat his team and him especially. Maybe it was the fact that Bokuto and him were competing on ranking that made it that much more intimate, but it was easy to look at Sakusa as a target more than just who he was: a human.

And so hearing his small admission that Fukurōdani was a strong rival, after dominating your school for so long, you could not help but smile at his candor.

“We’re there to win nationals.”

He raised a brow at your words, and while you wondered if you had overstepped your boundaries for a second, a smirk grew on Sakusa's face as he simply responded. “Ah.”

You watched the countdown timer to the other side of the street, signifying it was soon time for the both of you to break out in a spring to the other side. Both of you readied yourselves just as a car squealed past the corner, trying to beat the clock and make it before it turned red. 

It all happened so quickly, eyes darting around the area to see if there was anything you could duck behind. Chairs and tables, the usually bustling Tokyo was already wrapped up in plastic and stowed away. There was no getting away from the large splash of water on the both of you - drenching you and Sakusa instantly.

The groan from the spiker was loud above the city bustle, and if not for your mutual distress, it would have made you laugh in amusement. Sakusa was inspecting his clothes, obvious disdain and surprise on his visage. Figuring it was whatever at this point, you grabbed his upturned palm and led him to a cafe area nearby. It was closed at this point, but there was a wide awning area that would be empty by now.

You led him to one of the empty garden chairs and sat him down, uncaring if he was annoyed at you pushing him around. It was your team mom instincts kicking in at this point.

Reaching into your fanny pack, you took out some of the emergency wipes and offered the pack to him. He took it readily, taking out a few and going at his hands immediately. With your on-hand handkerchief, you patted him down at the shoulders, not noticing how close the two of you were at this point.

Sakusa said nothing to your actions, not even when you moved from his shoulders to the exposed skin of his neck, wiping off the dirty street water. The initial mother adrenaline was quickly wearing off as you stood over him, surprised that he was letting you do this after all. The rosy tinge on your cheeks was growing with every second of that lingering thought.

“Nervous?” Sakusa called you out, making you stiffen up your posture. Thankfully, he did not push the subject and instead said, “I don’t understand you. Your team hates me. Shouldn’t you just be letting me get sick?

“I wouldn’t do that, especially not even to you.” You waved off the thought, smiling as you did so. “We’re going to beat you with our own skill.”

He looked up at you from his spot, initially saying nothing to your words as you moved to take out another wet-wipe from the pack. Sakusa stopped your action, putting a hand over yours and starting, “You should be using some for yourself.”

You lightly pushed it aside, not unkindly. “It’s fine; I don’t care much. Besides, this matters more to you.”

He said nothing, letting go of your wrist, but not moving away out of your range. You took that as Sakusa’s silent acceptance, moving the wipe back to his neck area and even patting him down on the cheek. His eyes never left yours, making you wonder what could possibly be going on in that head of his.

The moment was so strangely intimate, you were silently proud of your usually easy-to-tease demeanor staying calm. Once you were done, you debated taking the seat next to him when he finally looked away. Taking a look at the world around you, the sudden downpour had actually let-up to a slight drizzle. 

You voiced your observation, recommending that you make your way back to the hotel before it possibly got worse. He nodded silently in agreement, breaking out into a light sprint toward your destination side-by-side.

By the time you arrived it was already late night, most of the lobby thankfully empty. You were not sure what you would say if Bokuto saw you walk in with his rival completely drenched. The squelch of your sneakers was obvious against the granite floor, making you wince at how others probably saw the two of you right now.

Sakusa bid you farewell with a small word and wave, heading toward an elevator at the other end of the hall. You did the same, before feeling the niggling feeling that someone had their eyes on you. Heading to the elevators, you turned to your peripheral and saw Yukie, sitting at one of the lobby tables with some random guy across from her.

Her face was alight with obvious mischief, her smirk alone was enough sign that she was going to be questioning you about this situation immediately. You winced at her expression, turning toward the elevator doors and waiting for the ding! to signify you were free from her eyes.

A thorough bath later, you were surprised the next day to see that Yukie had not questioned you at all. Instead, all energy was focused on nationals and the upcoming teams you were going to have to play against. 

Fukurōdani Academy was a powerhouse in itself and hearing the loud cheers surrounding your side of the court was enough to lift the entire team's spirits. Your audience section was fit to the nine’s - including a marching band, a specific fan cheering area, and even cheerleaders.  The team played through their games proudly, passion radiating from the team as you made it to the quarter-final on the third day.

You never got to play Itachiyama.

The third-years were retiring.

The silence on the bus was mentally jarring - no one expected your nationals journey to end this soon. Even Yukie, who was always quick on her feet when it came to comforting the other members, was eerily silent the way back to the hotel.

The only person who was still remarkably confident, was signified by the strong words Bokuto uttered when they first left the court.

“Nothing here was a mistake.” Bokuto started, mind in his thoughts as his back faced the team. You were in the middle of handing a spare hand-towel toward Haruki when you turned to the ace. “Your tosses were incredible under the pressure.”

The entirety of the team turned to the usual mood maker, one who was so easily swayed on the court over simple things, now voicing his introspective words.

Bokuto turned to the rest of you, “We will come back here next year and carve the rest of the way.”

Akaashi nodded from beside you, other second-years agreeing with their newly determined ace. The third-year captain, now sporting an anguished smile, walked over to Bokuto to place a hand on his shoulder. The other older members followed suit, proud of their young owl growing up right before their eyes.

After the game, you split up at the hotel to return to your rooms and shower. Getting ready for the night ahead of you, the third-years stated that they were going to take the team out for dinner after the strong season.

Yukie hopped in the shower first as Kaori and you packed up some of your room. The team was still going to stay at the hotel until the end of the tournament, but your long notebooks and team journals were of no use now. Combination attacks and details on the third-years were now a thing of the past. 

You had to fight the sob in your throat when you closed the folder on your captain one last time.

The silent hotel room, which was filled with giggles and teasing only hours before, was palpable against you and Kaori’s attempts to stay calm. She was affected moreso than you, having spent the last two years with the current team.

You were so occupied in your thoughts, you almost missed the silent vibration in your pocket, a notification dinging from your social media platform on Instabook.

Hey. Are you back in the hotel?

What was Sakusa doing, messaging you now of all times? 

Waving the thought away, you typed: Yeah. What’s up?

I have something for you - where are you?

The tendril of suspicion shot through you, but Sakusa was definitely not the type to kick you while you were down. You messaged him back your room details, earning back a simple ok omw and nothing else to signify just why he was coming here.

Yukie was still in the shower when you stepped out. Sakusa really was before you, in all his silent glory. Sporting his usual face mask, he took something out of his pocket and thrust it toward you.

“It’s only fair, (L/N)-san.” Sakusa stated, a familiar pack of wet-wipes in his hand outstretched toward you. 

You felt your smile grow, your earlier saddened disposition breaking at the strange sight. “That’s really not necessary.”

“Just take it.” Sakusa said as he grabbed your sleeve and placed it in your empty hand. 

“Well, okay.” You said with a slight chuckle in your voice.

“I meant to give it to you at the complex, but..”

“Yeah.” You finished for him, the conversation coming to a silence. “Thank you, Sakusa-san.”

He looked at you with an unwavering gaze, “Sakusa is just fine.”

“Then just (L/N) is fine too.” You added, finally feeling that you were coming to terms to some sort of odd friendship with the spiker. Holding up your phone, you motioned to it without voicing your question. “So we don’t have to rely on random appearances?”

“Ah.” He agreed, taking out his phone as you exchanged chat-ID’s.

That was the end of the conversation, him waving goodbye once it was over and walking down the hall to the stairwell. A part of you watched him go, almost smiling when you realized that of course the athlete would opt for the stairs when you were on the tenth floor.

You tried to silently enter back into the room, Kaori in the shower this time as Yukie was packing up her things. Leaning your back against the door, you tried to placate your undoubtedly rosy blush - you did not need a mirror to know that you were adorned with one now.

“Look at you - you think you’re slick?” The smirk on her face was enough warning that you were in danger, “I saw you two from the peephole.”

“He was just dropping off a gift.” You state, as if that would sate her curiosity at all. Instead, she stood up at attention.

She had one eye narrowed at you, “Right, of course. What else was I thinking - other than the totally normal gift-giving for two platonic members of rival volleyball teams.”

“Yup.” You nodded with a reserved smile, before making your way further into the room.

Yukie pushed the conversation as she got on the bed, “Are you secretly dating Sakusa?”

You flushed immediately, “It’s not like that!”

“And what is it like?”

“We’re just… friends?” You bit out, the lack of confidence even obvious to your own ears. Was that a question or a statement?

The relationship you had with the young man was strange. Were you friends? It was more like mutual acquaintances who happened to have a totally-but-also-not intimate moment. You could never really tell what he was thinking - being of very few words. 

“And suddenly you’ve convinced me.” Yukie teased, before going silent as Kaori entered the room. You took this as your escape, readying your stuff quickly and entering the shower area before she could continue.

Thankfully, Yukie dropped the subject while you were around others. Your previous, almost giddy expression, came back to a silently gloomy one as you went for your last dinner with the Fukurōdani third-years.

Any previously unshed tears slammed to the forefront when seated around your peers. Even while sad and crying, your team was loud and scorching down food in the small ramen bar. The third-years thanked you all for your efforts, for the growth you had since the start of the school year, and sent you off for the new year.

April swung around quicker than you would like. You were a newly minted second-year, priorities quickly changing almost as quickly. The questions from guidance counselors and coaches were unending: asking you about your future, what you wanted to do, what electives classes were you going to take. It was all preparation before your final year - it was almost mentally jarring against the happy and almost innocent vibe from your initial year of a high school.

Sakusa’s phone number untouched since the day outside your hotel room. 

Bokuto rising to the role of captain in his third-year was no question. But seeing Akaashi, now a second-year Vice-captain, it set all your “uwu’s on fire,” as Yukie dubbed it. He earned the role, without a doubt, but seeing the two together was so strangely heart-warming.

Bokuto and Akaashi were a strange pair, but they got along together so well, it was hard to imagine anyone else on your team with these roles. Akaashi mother hen’ed you all, but there were times that it seemed the young setter could almost read Bokuto’s mind. 

They were a perfect match, you often teased. 

Akaashi would often stare at you blankly when you reiterated this, but Bokuto would only fuel the fire. The duo were almost always in immediate distance to one another, oftentimes your captain would swing his arm across Akaashi’s shoulders or just initiate some time of close distance. After all, they were roommates now in the dorms, that was not just because they were captain and vice, you had a feeling.

It made you wonder what else was there beyond the surface.

But, you still had your own job to do as manager. By the end of the year, Fukurōdani would be losing two of its precious managers. And so, here you were, on the hunt for a first-year to take on the role and get used to the responsibilities of being manager to a powerhouse school.

Your team was focused on finding their rhythm, endless individual practices to get the first-years up to speed with the Fukurōdani standard. The regular line-up was still mostly comprised of third and second years, but first-year Wataru Onaga showed lots of promise. Standing at 191 centimetres, he earned his way to starting middle blocker on the team.

On occasion, you would be found in the library with other members of the volleyball team, studying for classes and researching upcoming teams in the preliminary matches.

You noticed how Sakusa earned himself a formal ranking among the top three aces of the country - Itachiyama now a heavy favorite to win in nationals. He was growing in regard very quickly, attention on him was a far cry from the initial rumors surrounding his first-year. Now he was on the cover of Volleyball monthly, pages dedicated to an expose of his career.

Would he even remember you?

Thoughts of the spiker were pushed away again with the onslaught of practice matches with other schools within the Fukurōdani Academy Group. Captain Kuroo was no better than regular Kuroo when it came to being the instigator. If anything, it seemed like the cat hung around your group of friends even more now.

He was often seen at group hangouts, whether just going to the mall or the local arcade. It was interesting, to say the least, the combination of your loud owl and the conniving cat, their two silent wards in tow.

You had a practice match with Itachiyama around the corner. And while you told yourself that you were not disappointed in your waning friendship(?) with Sakusa, you could not help the lightened feeling in your heart when he took the time to greet you before the match. Komori waved at you as well, before stretching and getting ready.

You watched the sets with careful eyes, Yukie taking notes alongside you. Almost everything was documented - how many times Bokuto was blocked, how many successful jump serves, service aces - and this was for both sides of the court. You could not help the way your eyes were drawn to Sakusa, his flexible wrist combined with his power making a combination the bane of your middle blockers.

Yukie caught you a few times, saying nothing but wagging her eyebrows at you in a wavy motion.

Losing three to two sets, you sighed and moved to help clean-up the gymnasium. Wheeling the scoreboard to the storage room with Yukie, all volleyball members were moving about the gym to make sure it was properly organized. You stepped out to check the hammock cart holding the volleyballs, counting them to ensure that none of them belonged to the rival school. 

Should you say something more to Sakusa?

You paused, looking up from the volleyballs and frowning at yourself.

Wait… Why did it even matter? Why did you even want to talk to him? Yes, you were on friendly terms with the ace. But why did you seek him out so much? You were friends with Kuroo, so did not feel the same draw to the middle blocker as you did now? 

Why was your mind so intent on just something with the ace?

Mind reeling with these questions, it was to your surprise when he approached you.

“Hey.”

“Hi.” You replied in a much smaller voice, attempting to put a smile back on your face, as if you needed to hide your earlier train of thought.

“Are you available this weekend?”

“Uh, wait what?” You could not help the incredulous words coming out of your mouth. 

Seriously what??? How do you go from weeks of not talking to this??

Yukie was a few paces away from you, opting to walk away from your conversation to give some privacy, after all the two of you were standing in a gymnasium filled with two bustling volleyball teams. But she undoubtedly heard that last question since her head whipped around back in your direction.

Seeing that Sakusa was actually waiting for a response, you thought back to your plans with Bokuto, Akaashi, and Kenma group to play the usual Mario Kart at the latter’s house.

“No, I’m free.” You responded.

Yukie laughed, before walking away entirely, as to not give away her eavesdropping.

“Ok. I’ll text you the details for this weekend.”

Not able to hide your surprise, you let out a sound of uncertainty as you raised your palms. “Wait, for what?”

“Hang-out.” Sakusa stated, as if it was such a natural event. “Komori suggested inviting you so I did.”

You dropped your hands, letting them fall to the sides and letting out a small, “Huh.”

He waved you off, saying he was going to text you the details tomorrow, before joining back with his team. Yukie’s face was indescribable and Haruki sported a similar expression only a few paces away.

Their questioning gazes were only pocketed for later, passed the time the coaches had given pointers and tips to members of the team. Eventually, when the other school had all packed up and left, the third-years were quick to bombard you with questions.

“HAAAA! (L/N), how could you hide this from us?!” 

“You two have been close, this whole time?”

“Not dating, my ass.” Yukie teased as she crossed her arms.

Akaashi placed a hand on your shoulder, his calm voice cutting above the rest. “What was that?”

“Honestly, I don’t know.” You answered candidly.

Bokuto and Haruki turned their heads in confusion while Yukie looked at you with a face asking you, really?

“Yeah, we haven’t actually spoken to each other since nationals.”

“Wait, really? That long ago?” Yukie asked this time, genuinely surprised.

“Yeah. That invite really feels… out of nowhere.” You explained, your own confusion evident on your visage and reflecting back on the other volleyball team members.

“Eh, it’s probably nothing.” Bokuto shrugged as he walked away, “We hangout with other schools all the time.”

Yukie held a flat-expression toward the ace’s retreating back, Haruki following behind him with a shrugging expression. Akaashi and the brunette manager turned back to you, the female grabbing your hand as she did.

“Okay, really?” 

Akaashi sighed, grabbing your attention. “Text me if you’re uncomfortable.”

“Wow, look at you Mr. Chivalrous.” Yukie commented, making Akaashi roll his eyes before turning to you seriously. You nodded in affirmation, to which he accepted and walked away.

You waved goodbye to the other members as they closed up the gymnasium, walking with the other managers back to the female dorms. 

Yukie was not letting it go at all, repeating her question from earlier. “Okay, really?”

You smiled this time, voice mocking as you responded. “Yeah, really.”

“What happened?” Kaori asked.

“Sakusa-san asked her out on a date.” Yukie spun the tale.

“It’s not a date.” You cut in.

“Oh yeah, then why are you smiling so giddy?” Yukie asked with wide, accusatory eyes.

“Because it’s… Shut up.” You stated between nervous laughter, “He asked me to hangout with a group - it includes their libero Komori-san.”

“Maybe he likes you.” Kaori commented, to which Yukie agreed vigorously.

“Do not put these assumptions in my head.” You stated with a loud sigh, head angled toward the sky at their words.

Yukie sighed back, “Don’t deny the possibility.”

You shrugged it off, knowing that there was no ending to their teasing at this point. You repeated the truth in your head like a mantra: he was nothing more than a friend. It was not worth looking into every single interaction you had with the young man - after all, he was rather strange when it came to social interactions to begin with. 

Ironically, you had to think that the others did not know him like you did. He was straight-up with his words, not fully understanding the meaning of it or how it affected others. If Sakusa wanted to do something or felt something, he would lay it out straight - that’s just the type of person he was.

And you would not be looking into the words between the lines.

But it was increasingly hard to do this when both Yukie and Kaori invaded your room Saturday morning, stating that your usual plain clothes would just not do for a day like this. Two hours later, your hair was in beachy waves and your planned “plain” outfit was replaced with a casual, knee-length springy dress over a white shirt.

What if this really was nothing but a casual encounter for him? Would your outfit be more forward then you intended?

Any of your self-conscious questions were too late, since before you knew it you were already on a train to the destination by Kichijoji. You had a few more stops to your destination, the packed train-car as busy as ever. Distracting yourself from those previous thoughts, you whipped out your phone to check the messages that had been pouring in since early morning.

GC: Hoot Hoot ⊹⋛⋋(◐⊝◑)⋌⋚⊹

11:11 Kaori _へ__(‾◡◝ )>           Look at how cute (F/N)-chan looks           Attached: cutie.jpg

11:11 yukie-yukie (｡♥‿♥｡)          She should dress like this every day!! (*•̀ᴗ•́*)و ̑̑

11:11 haaaruki !           WOAH :O 11:11 BROkuto ᕙ( * •̀ ᗜ •́ * )ᕗ           Hey hey hey 

11:11 BROkuto ᕙ( * •̀ ᗜ •́ * )ᕗ           look at you ;)

11:12 ahKASHi (๑ᵕ⌓ᵕ̤)           That would seem difficult considering (F/N)-san’s sleep schedule and the amount of time it takes for her to get ready. 11:13 Konoha(gakure) (•́ᴗ•́๑)           damn girl u look so pretty!!

11:13 BROkuto ᕙ( * •̀ ᗜ •́ * )ᕗ           I still can’t believe she abandoned us for saks >:(

11:13 Kaori _へ__(‾◡◝ )>           you can’t stop her from dating dad

11:13 yukie-yukie (｡♥‿♥｡)           well you know what they say bro’s before hoes

11:13 BROkuto ᕙ( * •̀ ᗜ •́ * )ᕗ           eye-

11:13 ahKASHi (๑ᵕ⌓ᵕ̤)           But otherwise, (F/N) looks beautiful today.

11:13 BROkuto ᕙ( * •̀ ᗜ •́ * )ᕗ           >>:C

You skipped to the end, scrolling through at least a few dozen more messages that ranged the topic from the picture of you getting ready to the supposed Mario Kart tournament that you were now missing out on. Typing in your response:

12:35 mother-hen^2 (ﾟ⊿ﾟ)           Sorry boys, had to look cute for today only ;)

12:35 yukie-yukie (｡♥‿♥｡)           IT’S A DATE!!! I KNEW IT!

12:35 Konoha(gakure) (•́ᴗ•́๑)           BO YOU OWE US YAKISOBA BREAD

12:35 BROkuto ᕙ( * •̀ ᗜ •́ * )ᕗ           ITS A DATE??

12:35 haaaruki !!           be safe mom!!

12:36 mother-hen^2 (ﾟ⊿ﾟ)           it’s NOT a date  (・-・)

12:36 BROkuto ᕙ( * •̀ ᗜ •́ * )ᕗ           HA

12:36 Konoha(gakure) (•́ᴗ•́๑)           bruh 

12:36 yukie-yukie (｡♥‿♥｡)           JUST YOU WAIT

12:36 ahKASHi (๑ᵕ⌓ᵕ̤)           Text me the moment you need an out.

You rolled your eyes as you pocketed your phone into your side-bag, leaning into the halting train as it crawled to a stop on the Keiou Inokashira Line. Walking out and looking for any telltale signs of your friend, you scanned the train station with wandering eyes as you walked out.

But, it was not necessary, since Komori’s light brown hair was an easy pick in the crowd. However, next to him was a volleyball player that you could easily pick from the bustling station. While Japanese men were generally around 170 centimetres, seeing Sakusa’s curly mop of hair high above the crowd was enough for you to follow.

It seemed they saw you immediately as well, Komori waving at you to come over while Sakusa merely kept his eyes trained on you. With them were a handful of other members of the Itachiyama volleyball club, from the players to their female manager, you recognized them from practice matches.

They invited you into the group of teenagers quickly, as if nothing was strange at all, waving at you with smiles before shooting looks at both Komori and Sakusa. 

What the hell was happening?

You had a feeling in the back of your mind that something was happening around you, that they all knew something that you did not know.

You walked along with the group into the popular neighborhood of Kichijoji - the group traveling from food stand to souvenir stand. Their female manager was so friendly, unlike how seriously quiet she was when visiting. She even asked to touch your hair at one point, saying it looked so bouncy and pretty today.

“The tracksuits don’t do any of us justice.” She complained, “But you look so nice today, (L/N)-san!”

You smiled at her words, “Thanks. We had an off-day today too. So I figured why not.”

“Well, it looks great. Don’t you think so too, Kiyoomi?”

The sudden question had you reeling back in surprise, turning to the black-haired teen. Why was he suddenly being brought into this? What were they trying to do?

But the thousands of questions in your brain came to a halt when Sakusa turned to you and simply said. “You look nice.”

“Thanks.” You replied, more out of reflex than truly getting his words. So in your head, you failed to notice the teasing smile she shot her ace, before turning away back to the rest of the group.

They gathered around the menu of a popular crepe stand, you left standing there in surprise as the group continued on without you. Sakusa stayed beside you, before taking a step and inclined his head toward the rest.

Shaking your head away from the niggling feeling in the back of your mind, you lightly jogged to catch up with the rest, finding a pace between Sakusa and Komori. 

The brunette turned to during your walk, “You’re probably really surprised to be here.”

“Yeah…”

Komori chuckled, a hand on his neck as he lightly muttered beneath his breath. “Honestly, I’m surprised he did it.”

“Did what?” You asked with a raised brow.

“Nothing important.” He waved off, “I’m just glad you were able to join our group today.”

Deciding not to push it, you instead said. “Well, thanks for the invite.”

The group’s conversation ranged from the food stalls, to your long awaited destination at the billiards club. The building had, true to its name, billiards tables and other vintage arcade machines. 

You were unsure where to place yourself within this group, obvious inside jokes that you would not understand between some of the other members. Thankfully, Komori and their female manager were very quick to try to get you to weigh in on the conversation.

“Well, I think Shrek is funnier in Japanese.” She stated it clear as day, as if a fact. You had to stop yourself from chuckling, one hand on the pool cue since it was your turn to go.

“But it’s not funnier than Cars.” Another countered.

“Have you heard Mater in the original movie?” You replied after hitting the ball, watching it not follow the path you had intended to hit it in at all. “That’s the one English dub I’ll accept.”

She smiled before arguing, “As if a cowboy accent is funnier than Shrek with a Jojo’s voice?”

You attempted to dead-pan your face, Sakusa stepping up to the billiards table after you. “We’re Japanese. We all have Jojo’s voice.”

“Alright Pikachu, calm down.”

You held a mock-offended hand to your chest, not able to hide the laughter at her jest. Despite being a beginner at billiards, and getting absolutely wrecked by everyone else playing, you were having fun with the random group.

This was not just the Itachiyama volleyball club - a fan favorite to win nationals.

These were high school teenagers, enjoying their free day off.

It was like a wide-awakening of your perspective. After all, you went to a powerhouse school yourself. When people saw Bokuto, saw Fukurōdani as a whole - how many times were people intimidated at Prelims just because of your team’s reputation? Taking Itachiyama off its pedestal was the same and it was hard to remind yourself of this fact.

But finally putting names to faces, personalities to people, you let it sink in that they were not that unlike you and your team.

After billiards, you continued with the group to a hot-pot restaurant a few blocks away. Komori hung especially around you, you noted inwardly. Was it to keep you from feeling left out of the group? But why were you even with this group to begin with?

Wait.

Didn’t Komori call you cute during your first encounter?

You felt something inside you inwardly swell and then sag. Were you here because Komori wanted you to be here? Even though your direct invitation came from Sakusa, the ace reasoned that it was at Komori’s suggestion. Were you invited here to get closer to the libero?

Despite being surrounded by the loud vbc members, their eagerness to eat bustling in both action and conversation, you felt yourself sag at the realization.

They were trying to get you closer to Komori?

You inwardly slapped yourself on the head for being so closed-minded. Not that he was a bad guy - he was the best libero in the entire country after all. Volleyball skills aside, Komori was trying his best to make you comfortable in the group. He was naturally outgoing, friendly, and had been the reason behind your invite in the first place.

But another part of your mind, the part that you had been trying to close off for so long, could not help but glance over to Sakusa and hoped that he had been the reason.

The silent ace caught your gaze, making you turn away immediately and flush at being caught.

It was… disappointing.

But you failed to notice how Sakusa kept his gaze on you, the female manager watching this interaction entirely with amused eyes.

You were still trapped in your thoughts. You had gotten your hopes up after all, despite saying to all the other members that it truly was not that way between the two of you.

And now it was fully true.

Entering the restaurant, the female manager, having the foresight to call ahead to reserve for your large group, you deliberated where you wanted to sit at the table. You went to take a seat next to the manager, to which she motioned to Komori in a none-too-subtle way, to instead take the seat before you could finish your question.

That left a single seat left on this side - the corner one that was only next to Komori.

Of course they were trying to set you up with him, why else did you think otherwise?? You almost slapped yourself on the head for how tunnel-minded you were before this.

You took the seat, shooting a smile toward Komori that did not quite reach your eyes. But, to your surprise, the brunette muttered a small excuse of having to go to the bathroom or something, you could not catch it exactly since it was so quick. And instead, the ace that had been plaguing your thoughts for the last few minutes, had plopped down into the spot.

You snapped your head forward, grabbing at the menu and stating that it all looked good. The female manager smiled at you, more like smirked, before joining in the conversation of what she wanted to order.

As per your team mom instinct™, you took out your hand sanitizer and offered it to the other table members. 

“Thank you, (L/N)-chan!” She replied, taking the small container and using some. You offered it to the rest and let it pass around. “You even beat Sakusa offering it to us.”

Komori took the seat across from you when he returned, adding to the conversation quickly. “That’s (L/N)-chan’s?”

“Yeah. Otherwise, it would’ve been paired with a lecture from our dear ace here.” The female added. “It’s almost like you complete each other.”

Wait, what?

You smiled awkwardly, eyes landing on the silent Sakusa who had yet to say anything.

“Ah. I have the same brand.” He said when the bottle made its way back.

Okay, not what you were expecting at all. You took it from his hands, a small grin still on your face, using it before storing it away.

A few minutes in and it was clear that members of the table were breaking out into their smaller conversations. To your left was a wall and so that left the silent Sakusa or Komori across from you, who was trying hard to converse with only the person next to him.

“I saw the article about you in volleyball monthly.” You started. “Congrats on officially being one of the top spikers in the country.”

Sakusa turned to you when you first spoke, replying. “Thanks, but it’s brought a lot of annoying attention.”

He was actually talking to you? Stop. He’s human too.

“I could imagine - scouts, fangirls - it’s never ending.” You responded. “A lot of girls like to hang around and watch practice matches for Bokuto, I’d assume it’s the same.”

“It’s annoying.” He stated curtly, “They’re dirtying up the gym with their outdoor shoes every time.”

Of all things… you thought inwardly with an amused grin.

“Being so popular now, there’s probably tons of people who approach you based solely on reputation. I hope you don’t think that of me.” You stated.

“I don’t.” He said back just as quickly.

You smiled, before continuing the conversation. “Even if their energy is misplaced, I can’t help but agree that you’ve accumulated a lot of earned attention.”

“Oh?”

“Well, yeah.” Your smile widened unconsciously, “I mean, you’re more than just the title. You were a good spiker before any labels told anyone that.”

Sakusa looked at you, in what looked like a flat expression. 

What you did not know was how thoroughly he was scanning your face, just to gauge how genuine your words were. You went to rival schools? Other schools in the prefecture were so quick to antagonize him and his team. After all, Bokuto made his feelings obvious during the last practice match. And yet you were willing to just hangout, of all things, with people you hardly knew? So willing to compliment the ace with the largest target on his back??

Your actions confused a realist like him.

Why even bother to be nice to him way back then? Why try to keep in touch? Why be here today?

And even more so, why did he want to know the answer to these questions so badly?

“(L/N)-chan, what would you usually be doing on your off days?” The manager broke you out of your thoughts.

“Well, today was supposed to be a Mario Kart tournament with some of the Nekoma kids.” You thought back to your earlier plans. “As crazy as it is, we tend to just lounge around and play video games with Kuroo and Kenma.”

“Ah, that’s right. Nekoma is in the Fukurōdani Academy Group as well.” She stated, her voice lowering toward the end.

“Yeah, but we’re pretty close to Kuroo and rest beyond volleyball. I don’t know how, but our captains all get along like frat bro’s.” You reminisced to the last interaction, “But at least with all the managers together, we have five mother hen’s, six including Akaashi, to guide the group.”

She laughed, before biting her lip.

You noticed the action and questioned, “Something wrong?”

“No.” She tried to wave off, “Well. I don’t know. I’m kind of jealous.”

You let out an incredulous snort before leaning forward. “Why?”

“You get along really well with the other schools in the prefecture. Enough so that I see you guys,” she motioned to you in a circular motion, you took this to signify the Fukurōdani team as a whole, “Like everywhere on social media.”

“Oh?”

“Parties, weekends, you name it. Even Masaki-san, who is infamous for being so angry looking, posted you and the rest out swimming last summer break.” You thought back to the event, the name of the now captain of the Ubugawa High volleyball team jumping out at you.

House parties… Wasn’t that a regular high school thing to do? And while you were all responsible teenagers with a lot to lose, the team did indulge in various friendly gatherings that did include teens across multiple schools in the prefecture.

You hadn’t said anything yet, so she continued. “Meanwhile, our coach has us play against college teams since he insists it’s better practice. We don’t really play with anyone else in the prefecture other than you guys - and you hate us.”

“That’s not true.” You cut in immediately, to which she raised a brow. “Believe me. The only outspoken one would be Bokuto and none of that is beyond surface level - he’s a really nice guy and would never actually hate anyone.”

You continued, “It may just seem that way since we’re immediate rivals. But I honestly had no idea that it made you guys feel so isolated.”

“Yeah…” She admitted, her voice trailing off at the end.

“It doesn't have to stay this way. After all, you were nice enough to invite me out now.” You replied, a bright smile back on your face. “Why don’t we exchange numbers?”

She radiated a smile reflecting your own, taking out her phone and quickly inputting your digits in. “Wow, you’re so friendly.”

“Don’t worry about it.” You replied.

She held her smile for a few more seconds, before her eyes slid over to the silent ace between you two. 

“I’m so glad Sakusa wanted to invite you with us today.”

You looked toward him as well, Sakusa meeting your eyes before turning away.  “Uh, I was glad I was able to join.” 

“Yeah, well. It’s no wonder he…”

Her voice came to a halt when the ace looked straight at her, the waves of warning enough for even you to feel, without having to see his expression.

Sakusa wanted you to be here?

“He…?” You questioned, to which she smiled and shrugged, not completing her previous thought.

The rest of the dinner went without any special events - even holding light conversation with Itachiyama’s ace next to you. Conversation with Sakusa was curt, but he meant no harm. If you had to describe it, he was dense in the way of conversation, similar to Bokuto and yet for the opposite reasons. 

Bokuto was so extroverted that he got along with people so easily. But, it often led to him mistakenly leading on girls for how friendly he was. Meanwhile, on the other side of the spectrum, introverted Sakusa kept to himself because that was where he was comfortable, not because he thought others beneath him.

You felt your heart swell at having learned a little bit more about the ace.

After dinner, the nightsky reflected back at you as you went to part ways with the group. Dorms in opposite directions, you were surprised when Sakusa offered to walk with you to the train station. 

And while your heart swelled at the implications, Sakusa reasoned it was only fair since he was the one that invited you out. Now that it was late, it may not be safe for you to be out late and it would be on his head if something happened.

His manager laughed, while Komori just sighed, muttering that he was hopeless.

She bid you farewell with a tight hug, saying you should text her when you get home. The rest waved at you amicably before walking off in the opposite direction. 

Whatever the reasoning may be, there was no logical reason as to why a germaphobe like him would sit directly next to you on the train back home. Your shoulders were even touching, but neither of you voiced this fact. 

“Today was actually really fun.” You started, turning to him on your right. There were only a few other people taking this line and they were mostly crowded around the opposite end of your train-car. “Thanks for inviting me.”

“You don’t have to say thanks so many times.”

“Did I?” You asked with a sheepish smile, “I honestly didn’t notice, but I do mean it.”

“Good.” His eyes bore into your own so seriously, “Because I’m glad you did.”

Unsure what to even say, you just kept on smiling. “Thank-

“What did I say?” Despite his normally cold visage, the tilt in his voice was enough to signify to you that he was teasing you.

You inclined your head toward him, “Fine. I’m… really happy, that we’re friends.”

He looked at you fully, not saying anything and making you question if you overstepped, before Sakusa stated, “Kiyoomi.”

“What?”

“Call me Kiyoomi.”

“Oh.” You smiled, “(F/N) is fine too.”

The rest of the train ride had such a lighthearted atmosphere. The only other person you could sit in comfortable silence with was Akaashi, but even then he was so silently sassy that it was nothing like Sakusa’s energy. And yet, at that moment, you felt so comfortable in his presence.

Sakusa did as he said he would, walking you all the way to the school-gates before finally bidding you farewell.

“See you around, (F/N).”

You reiterated it back to him, only walking off when he disappeared from sight. The smile on your face stayed etched there all the way back to your dorm room - where Yukie and Kaori were eagerly waiting on your lower bunk-bed, your roommate nowhere to be seen.

“Details, (F/N)-chan!” Yukie yelled out immediately, an enthused Kaori not too far behind her. 

And you did just so for the entirety of the hangout - from the billiards club, the manager’s desire to be closer to other teams, to your conversation with Sakusa on the train. They nodded along as you explained, having brought snacks with them as well, it was clear they were waiting for a while. How they got in your dorm room - that was a question for another time.

They chuckled at you for thinking Komori was the reason and nodded in understanding about the female manager. It was only at the end when they really questioned you and Sakusa.

“So… not dating, huh?” Yukie asked with a raised brow.

“Not yet.” Kaori answered.

“Damn, that means I owe Bokuto Yakisoba bread.”

You chuckled at the girls’ words, but felt that you could no longer honestly deny their teasing. The two of you were nothing more than friends, but there was no denying that you wouldn’t mind the possibility of being more than that…

Fuck it, you liked him.

No longer doing mental somersaults in your brain, it was surprisingly easy to accept the fact that you had a crush on the Itachiyama ace.

And your relationship only seemed to grow as the school year went on. During the next practice match, you formally introduced Yukie and Kaori to the other manager. The four of you were quick buds and she was invited to your dorm room on occasion. Other members of the team greeted you warmly, Sakusa even calling you by your first name, confirming that your last conversation was not just a fever dream you had one day.

Your heart only squeezed in on itself more when you felt your lingering looks become mutual. Sakusa had always garnered your attention during practice matches. But between plays and matches, you would just be looking at him when suddenly, he would be looking at you too. 

No matter how many times it happened, Yukie always made sure to tease you when she caught you.

You would text him memes and would receive a dry lol in return. There were times that he would spin the conversation and ask if you had eaten yet. 

Was he really trying to mother hen the Fukurōdani manager? You thought with a smile.

Your small texts and conversations were tantamount to much more when it came to Sakusa. His actions meant much more than it did to the average person. He did not waste movements, nor did he waste his own time. These were more than just dry texts - Sakusa could easily not reply at all. 

You learned that he disliked oranges due to its messiness. He actually liked the colors of his school tracksuit, even though they were bright against the soft hues of the Tokyo landscape. He was not a fan of the interviews, but knew it was a small sacrifice if he wanted to go pro. He loved his team and wanted to go far with them.

These little details made you like him even more - there was so much more to him than just volleyball.

When you finally voiced your feelings to Yukie, she gave you a soft smile and a pat on the shoulder. “I have eyes, you know. We all do, actually. But I’m glad you finally caught up.”

You laughed at her words then - maybe you really were a late bloomer when it came to your feelings?

Your frequent texts became frequent calls. Those became frequent late night video chat’s and soon enough, even your coach was teasing you over your close relationship. 

“The next practice match with your boyfriend’s team is scheduled for next Friday.” They stated with a straight face to the entire volleyball team, making the third-years chuckle and Bokuto even nudge you with his elbow.

“Not saying you’re just friends anymore?” Yukie asked with a smirk one time.

You shrugged, to which Akaashi sighed before ruffling your hair.

And so, when the managers were hanging out in their hotel room at the next Interhigh National Tournament in the fall, neither Yukie nor Kaori nor the Itachiyama manager, who was chilling with you guys, batted an eyelash when Sakusa texted you to hang-out that night.

You texted back, trying to convey a teasing tone over the words. “Wouldn’t it be weird if I was having dinner with the rival team of mine at Nationals?”

His response was immediate:

Not team; just me.

You blush only increased and Yukie teased you further, “Woah, what could he possibly be sending you for you to get that red?”

“I’m willing to bet Yakisoba bread that they’ll be official before the next nationals.” The other manager stated, outstretching a hand toward Kaori and Yukie.

“Whaaaat?” The former drew out, “I’m thinking by tonight.”

“Shut up.” You stated as you blushed, putting on your outdoor shoes and a jacket.

Going down to the lobby, you scanned the room to see Akaashi and Bokuto at one of the tables. The two had such a… trusting relationship, you learned. Yes, Akaashi played the suffering card almost every day. But the setter loved to watch Bokuto play so passionately, you could see it in his eyes every time they were on the court.

Whatever was going on there, you supported it.

Turning away, you made your way over to the door where Sakusa was waiting. He looked so out of place, as per usual, hands in pockets and looking as if he wanted to be anywhere but there.

As you approached, Sakusa nodded to you in greeting and - to your eternal surprise - took your hand in his own before guiding you out the door. He had on winter gloves, so none of your germs would be touching his skin, but the action itself was so surprising. Yes, you talked and smiled and pined after him - but premarital holding hands?? Were you both ready for this??

He led the way over to a small cafe, walking in mutual silence and only releasing your hand when the host seated you across from each other. You eagerly soaked up the menu, eyes scanning the sweets while he deliberated over something.

Sakusa had yet to say anything to you, not grabbing at the menu either, which worried you in a way. What was it that was on his mind?

“Something wrong, Yoomi?” The nickname slipped off the tongue easily, having used it in your last night talks on the phone with one another.

“I want you to know my intentions in our relationship.”

You swallowed at his words, sure that he heard your nervous tick as well.

“I want to get to know you.”

The teasing smile was quick on your face, “Me too. I mean, that’s what we’ve been doing all along?”

“No.” He cut in instantly, tugging the face mask he had on down and off. “As in get to know you with the intention of being more than friends.”

“Oh?”

“You confuse me endlessly.” He admitted, “Your initial kindness made no logical sense - why extend it to your rival that you barely know? Why humanize me, get to know my team after all this time?”

“Because I wanted to be kind, even way back then.” You thought aloud your reasoning.

“I know you now. And what I see… That’s what I like about you.”

“Wait. You like me?”

Your humility was cute and such a rare trait in your shared interest; the small question made Sakusa smile inwardly. 

“Yes. And you like me too.” He responded with a smirk, to which you could not even deny.

“Well, yeah!” You laughed as you affirmed his statement.

He tilted his head at your outburst - god help him you were so cute. His smirk morphed into one of an endearing expression, before he took a breath and calmed himself.

“I do have to be honest with you.” He started, “I want to get closer to you, more than before. But my priorities right now are volleyball.”

Your bright smile fell to a neutral grin, not really from his words, since you truly did understand his situation. He was in his third-year, college scouts and grades were on the line at every turn for him. Even tomorrow, at the Fall National tournament, his performance could very well carve out the future he was working so hard for this whole time.

Your silence must have been a telling sign for Sakusa, since he started to pour out questions in a way that usually occurred when he fixated on something.

“Stop, you don’t need to explain it to me. I understand fully. There’s too much on the line right now to get distracted.” Your smile was back on your face as you reached over to grab at his hand this time, “But I want to get to know you too.”

“Good.”

The hand under your’s squeezed back lightly, before upturning the positions so yours rested in his larger one. It was a silent moment, sharing eye contact that felt so intimate, and yet similar to the one you shared at the last tournament. His smile, rarer than the times Bokuto fell silent, was small and for you alone at this moment. 

What he was asking for was not an outright relationship - nothing about this was normal, but you wouldn’t have preferred it to be.

--------

(continue; BUT SPOILER WARNING TO CHAPTER 392!! :O)

You sat in the stands on the Black Jackals side, cheering on the team of your boyfriend of three years. Adorned on your shoulders was Sakusa’s sports jacket, his last name shown proudly on your back. Next to you, Akaashi and Yukie were loudly cheering for the team’s victory.

Seeing both Bokuto and Sakusa on the same team was no longer a strange sight. And, instead,  always elicited a pang of pride surging through you every time you watched their games.

The two of you never confirmed your relationship throughout the rest of high school. And while this made many of your then teammates groan at your ambiguous relationship, especially since many kept betting Yakisoba bread to no avail, you would not have it any other way.

After a few months from your conversation in the cafe, Sakusa would kiss your cheek in goodbye, no matter who was around you. When walking around Shibuya, with either yours or his or even with Nekoma’s team around, he would hover shoulder-to-shoulder with you.

And when Itachiyama, the favored team to win Nationals as a whole, lost to Inubushi East High - you held him in your embrace the entire night in the comfort of his hotel room. He did not cry then, but his disposition was enough for you to know that he was not okay.

And when Fukurōdani made it all the way to the finals of the National Spring Interhigh, only to get eliminated, Sakusa held you close despite your loud crying the next day.

You knew how much Sakusa cherished you, that was all that mattered. And so when he kissed you for the first time, even without a label to your relationship, none of that mattered. Your feelings to each other only grew with time and what happened in the private recess of your relationship was for you two alone.

Watching the pro team win the game 3:2, with your boyfriend getting the first service ace of the game, you almost cried in joy at how far he progressed in achieving his dream. This was a far cry from his first pro-game, but seeing him on the court, surrounded by your Fukurōdani friends, brought so much nostalgic feelings to your heart.

Even as the rest of the audience cleared the stadium, you and the two others lingered. Bokuto made sure to wave at Akaashi, his significant other since the day you lost at the Spring Nationals.

You waited together until you received a text from Sakusa, then headed down toward the entrance of the changing rooms as a group. Some of the members of the Black Jackals were already waiting for you three by the time you made it through the crowd and down.

Hinata greeted you excitedly while Bokuto ran, with not a hint of hesitation, toward Akaashi. Lifting the previous setter off the ground, he placed a light butterfly kiss on his nose, careful not to hit his glasses.

“Kōtarō, please.” Akaashi attempted to chastise the volleyball player for ignoring the rest of the group and stop him from getting any deeper in his public display of affection, but the smile on his face took off the weight of his words.

“I love you.” Bokuto said, forehead to forehead with your close friend to this day, before receiving the words in kind from the previous setter.

You smiled warmly at the two - to think that they were dancing around their feelings also in high school. Having teased them a lot before, it only warmed your heart to know that they found their eternal happiness in each other.

Yukie was also smiling behind you, before Bokuto took the both of you in his arms for a long awaited hug. Your high school best-friend offered him a Yakisoba bread after, it was not a silent tradition after all the lost bets she participated in. Bokuto took it with a smile, putting the bread in his pack before encasing Akaashi’s hand in his own.

Atsumu was next to leave the changing room, shamelessly flirting with both you and Yukie the moment he laid eyes on you.

You laughed at the setter’s attempts, “Come on blondie, give it up.”

“You know, I think you’d make a great manager for our team.” He ended it with a wink.

“(F/N)-chan used to be my manager before!” Bokuto cut in, sticking his tongue out in jest at the end.

You felt strong arms wrap around your midsection from behind, Sakusa having quietly exited the changing room, before feeling his lips against the side of your head. “Sorry for making you wait. I had to wait for them to sanitize the showers again after Atsumu used it before me.”

The setter sputtered in reaction, after being implied as dirty, but was honestly used to it by now. 

Only when Bokuto inclined his head toward the exits did Sakusa let go of you. But only for a second, grabbing your hand in his own as you headed out. The group had agreed earlier about going somewhere for the victory dinner - probably the usually ramen place you haunted in Shibuya.

Facing you fully now -  Sakusa held your cheeks in his hands, the coarse skin affected by the endless hours of enduring volleyball. You leaned into the motion as he lowered his height closer to you. Familiar with each other’s nuances by now, you angled your head to side as your hands comfortably wrapped around his neck. Nudging your nose slightly with his own, he rested his forehead against yours before the velvet skin of his lips matched your own.

You felt one of his hands move to curve around your waist, bringing you closer to him as he deepened your act of affection. Greedy to just feel more of him, you leaned into Sakusa again, lips meeting twice, three times, before you pulled away.

His loud groan was palpable to the now silent hallway.

Sakusa was only ever so affectionate when you were in private. And so for him to be this forward while the possibility of getting caught still hung in the balance was a rare thing - not that you were complaining.

“Come on, we should go catch-up with the rest of your team.” You said almost breathlessly, still sharing the same breath in your close embrace.

You felt one of his hands travel behind your head slowly, grazing the back of your neck softly as he went. You leaned into him at the feeling, sensitive to the touch. The smirk on his face was obvious, the jackass - teasing you in public of all places. 

“Do we have to?”

Was he trying to tempt you to just go straight home to your shared apartment?

Not one to be easily swayed, you gave him a small peck on the lips before backing out of his embrace entirely. 

His hands dropped down to yours as you went, “Yes, we have to.”

Pulling you back to him, and chastely kissing your forehead this time, Sakusa replied. “Okay, but only for you.”

Your smile only widened then, at his affection words meant only for you. 

Your relationship was never easy, busy with your respective college degrees, and the attention that came with being a professional athlete gaining world-renown. Like every other couple, you fought, and cried, and loved each other so much in your own little ways.

The two of you had a quiet sort of romance. You were not the sort who would flaunt your relationship in public, nor would you so eagerily utter the words I love you as other couples, but you knew that what you had was real.

What started as a chance encounter became the best partner you could ever ask for.

------------------------

Author’s notes:

The only reason I’m thinking Fukurōdani has dorms is just an educated guess:

All the schools that have “Academy” in the name seem to be the ‘higher’ or more prestigious schools. Karasuno High, Nekoma High, Shinzen High - none of these places have dorms. But Shiratorizawa Academy; Fukurōdani Academy; Itachiyama Academy -> since Shiratorizawa is confirmed to have dorms i figured ayyy let's roll with it ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ A loooot of my assumptions are going to be based off Shiratorizawa - like the fact that they feel they’re the best and practice with colleges instead of other hs cause they’re not good enough lmao

IT ALMOST KILLS ME that we know only TWO people on the Itachiyama team and then timeskip hits and its like ?? LOL ok ?? hype them up for so long and JUST NOW we see Sakusa play ok ok ok 

✧  Masterlist

[sweetlavenderwritings]

hq boys as fic tropes/aus

A/N: bc why not lmfao. these are just tropes that i think that suit these characters the best. just my personal opinion! a short commercial break before i post written requests again.

⛧ ⌒ ⛦ ⌒ ⛧ ⌒ ⛦ ⌒ ⛧ ⌒ ⛦ ⌒ ⛧ ⌒ ⛦ ⌒ ⛧ ⌒ ⛦ ⌒ ⛧ ⌒ ⛦ ⌒ ⛧ ⌒  

˚✩ Enemies to Lovers: miya atsumu, terushima yuuji, oikawa tooru, tsukishima kei,

˚✩ Soulmate AU: kita shinsuke, akaashi keiji, sugawara koushi, aone takanobu

˚✩ Friends to Lovers: bokuto kotarou, yaku morisuke, kuroo tetsurou, tanaka ryuunosuke

˚✩ Slowburn: sakusa kiyoomi, ushijima wakatoshi, kozume kenma

˚✩ Chilhood Friends to Lovers: nishinoya yuu, miya twins, tendou satori

˚✩ Friends with Benefits: matsukawa issei, suna rintarou, ukai keishin

˚✩ Fake Dating AU: daishou suguru

[levis-hazelnut]

Kuroo x Reader By Accident

summary: you ask one of your closest friends for help to confess to your crush, not knowing that you were actually texting on the group chat that your crush was in.

[genesisrose74]

MSBY Celeb Crush HCs!

A/n: hello lovelies!! Did y’all see the live game streamed a couple days ago with MSBY against the Adlers? Can we all agree that MSBY’s #15 was gorgeous? Okay cool anyways I was in the mood for some Black Jackals content so here’s some headcanons of them with a fem! celebrity crush/eventual gf!! Also I’m working on some more Dream SMP stuff because y’all liked it a lot and it was super fun to write so yeah :)) Hope you like this one!

Hinata

Hinata would be very adamant about his celebrity crush let's be honest here

Ever since he learned about your singing group and your albums he was completely hooked

He’s seen all your interviews, has your group’s merch, etc. this man is devoted

Atsumu asked if he had any other celebrity crushes and sweet orange baby was appalled

“No offense, ‘Tsumu, but that’s the most ridiculous question I’ve ever heard. Of course I don’t, have you seen y/n?”

If he wasn’t traveling so much you bet your ass he would have gone to one of your concerts already, but alas 😔

He doesn’t post about you or your group a bunch on social media just because he’s focused on training and games and such, but when he does?

Ohhh boy

He gushes about your entire group, but he puts so much of an emphasis on you that it’s obvious you’re his favorite

“I’ve been listening to their new album on repeat for hours - sooooo glad y/n had so many solos this time around cause her voice is ✨immaculate✨!!!!”

You get tagged in a lot of stuff on social media so it never really comes across your radar, but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t love watching volleyball and just adore everything about this man

If you knew he had social media you would have followed him in a heartbeat

Everytime you see him getting talked about or interviewed on television you’re just completely enraptured

One time another member of your group tried changing the channel when you were watching him in a post-game press conference and you DEADASS FOUGHT FOR THE REMOTE

“Jesus, y/n, you’re straight up feral for this volleyball guy” “He’s amazing and super pretty, let me simp in peace”

At one point your group gets an official TikTok account because why the hell not (and it’s great for publicity)

Questions usually come from your fans in the comments, but then it gets to your turn and being the hoes they are, your group conspires to ask one of their own

Your lead guitarist walks up to you sitting on the couch with her phone in hand, and pans to you watching a recorded MSBY game on the TV “Hey, one of your questions is about a celebrity crush, would you mind telling everyone yours?”

You smile excitedly, exclaiming, “Shoyo Hinata, duh. I love him and he’s my dream guy, thank you very much” NO HESITATION

Your whole publicity team loves the video and it gets posted immediately despite how flustered you’ve become

Hinata gets to the locker room after practice that same day and his phone is exploding with people tagging him on all different platforms

Tangerine bby is so confused, so he presses on one of the more recent posts and it’s a video of you watching the game with just “👀” as the caption

He’s already really happy ‘cause ‘holy flapjacks that’s my team!!!’ 🥺

Hinata registers a question about a celebrity crush from behind the camera, and before he knows it, his name is on your lips

THIS BOY YELPS AND NEARLY FLINGS HIS PHONE

Scares the entire team with his reaction and Atsumu is clutching his chest

“You almost gave me a heart attack, what happened?” “Y/N SAYS I’M HER DREAM GUY, I CAN DIE HAPPY”

He posts a video immediately and tags you back, and he’s got the biggest smile on his face ohmygoshhhhh “I swear on my life that you are my dream girl, I will seriously DM you my number if you want”

The internet f l i p s. I kid you not.

And you’re also freaking out because he has social media and you didn’t know? And also HE WANTS TO GIVE YOU HIS NUMBER?? So you just reply with “yes pls :3” skdjfdksop

You have your phone on hand the entire day and when you finally get a DM from his account you’re scrambling to respond/ft him asap

He sends you tickets for the next MSBY game you can make it to, and you coordinate VIP tickets for his team to come and see your group perform on tour

When y’all meet in person for the first time it’s at a little coffee shop a few days before the game you came to watch

And oh my gosh he’s even cuter in person? How is that humanly possible??

Y’all talk about anything and everything, whether that be pertaining to your careers or about your favorite dog breed

And then at the end of the day he hits you with a blushy and curious, “So, could I consider this a first date?”

You almost cry of happiness because he’s so precious, and all you can do is nod excitedly - “I would really, really like it if you did”

Being the cheeky cutie pies you both are, a picture is posted to your Instagram of y’all hugging with the caption, “met dream guy today”

That photo becomes your most liked post in a span of two days

The internet loves you both so much it’s insane

Bokuto

Similar to Hinata, Bokuto is very open about his love for his celeb crush

Flaunts his adoration for you everywhere and to everyone he’s friends with, but Bokuto’s like a boisterous little puppy so everyone is more or less used to it

He’s the type of guy to fall for an actress, especially like the awesome badass roles, so when he finds out about you while watching a movie one evening he legit binges everything you appear in right after

You don’t even gotta be the main character he’ll watch it just for you, doesn’t matter the genre

He’s quite active on social media and he’s like a proud boyfriend whenever he sees something about new content that you’re involved in

“Y/n looks so badass in this promo, already super excited to watch!!!”

Will repost legit anything about new stuff that you’re in it’s practically half of his feed

The other half consisting of volleyball and his friends 🥰❤️

Anywho, he gets a chance to see a movie premiere when Kuroo’s rich ass invites him along (cuz Kenma said no LMAO)

Heart❤️been broke💔🤕 so many times⏰ i don’t know❌🤷‍♀️ what to believe 🍃🙏

Doesn’t realize that you’ll be there until he sees you’re in the movie poster plastered on the red carpet

And then he looks to his left and you’re actually right there in person

He’s this close to swooning because omfg you’re so pretty-

Kuroo is standing off to the side like ‘bruh, want me to introduce you’ and Bo is bouncing on his heels like ‘YES OMG YOU KNOW HER PERSONALLY??’

You know nearly nothing about volleyball but that doesn’t even matter when Kuroo introduces you both

He’s just so genuine that you can’t help but smile and laugh at all the little things he does

You would take an Ushijima-spiked volleyball to the face for him and it’s only been ten minutes since y’all met

Like who is Ushijima and why is his left hand so spooky but anyways

He doesn’t wanna bother you too much and starts on his way to his seat in the theater, but before that you ask him if he’s going to the afterparty and if you’ll see him there

Owl child is pumped and begs Kuroo to let him tag along after the premiere

Kuroo eventually gives in because Bokuto won’t stop asking/pouting

Bokuto, for the eight millionth time: Please Kuroo lemme go :///

Kuroo: Jesus fine would you stop talking now

Bokuto: :D yee

Cute little whiny bitch lmao but he gets what he wants

So after the movie (which Bokuto loved btw) he goes to the after party and y’all talk the entire time

Like you’ll obviously stop and thank people for their kind words about the film, but then all attention goes right back to him

He’s over the moon cause you’re so nice and fun to be around, even better than he thought you would be

It’s getting a bit later into the night when you look over at him with a mischievous grin and lean over: “Wanna leave and go get some hot chocolate? Kinda tired of people buying me so much alcohol”

He is SO EXCITED - grabs your hand and y’all walk out of the after party without a second thought, but not before Bokuto tells Kuroo where he’ll be

“Hey Kuroo ima go get some hot chocolate with y/n, not sure when I’ll be back so I’ll text you” “okay have f-BOKUTO WHAT”

You sneaky little secret agents go out the back way to avoid paparazzi and order hot chocolates at this nearby cafe

Homies because you both got whipped cream on your drinks 😌👊

Y’all just have fun and joke around the rest of the night and end up exchanging contacts

You laughed so hard at one point that your hand jolted the mug you were holding and whipped cream got on your nose, so Bo just reached over and swiped it off without thinking

You blushed red when he licked the whipped cream off his thumb

This man knows not what he does

Little did you know some of the press saw you both straight vibing in your cute little booth and took pictures

Congrats you’re in the tabloids 🥳🥳 have fun with that

But honestly you don’t care because the pictures they took were so cute?

You legit contact the photographer and ask him to send you copies just cause

Needless to say you both start hanging out a whole lot, and it quickly turns into the most adorable dates; y’all are always seen out together and are super open about your relationship ugh we stan

Atsumu

Okay hear me out please: Atsumu is a closeted Broadway nerd

Tell me honestly that this overdramatic bitch would not love everything to do with musicals you can’t

You wouldn’t know at all until you've walked into his room and it’s just covered wall to wall in playbills

He has a warm up playlist devoted to cast recordings and literally no one knows about it because he named it some stupidly vague thing like “Bops”

Anyways you’re his all time favorite performer and he’s seen quite a few of your shows whenever he has the time

Tsumu gets really happy when he sees on your social media that you’re visiting Japan but doesn’t think anything of it

Until he’s finished playing a game at Sendai Stadium, standing with the team to sign autographs and there you are in front of him

He knew you enjoyed sports but...you came to watch his team?

Like boy half of MSBY is on the Japan National Team are you really that surprised-

The answer is YES because he’s having trouble speaking coherently as he signs the shirt you’re holding out to him

Holy shit it’s his jersey number he’s about to pass out-

Legit looks up and goes “could you give me one second?” and SPEEDS OFF TO FIND HIS BAG

You’re blinking in confusion but don’t think much else of it when Hinata bounces over to sign your stuff with his lil’ sunshine smile

Atsumu races back with his stuff, effectively startling Hinata in the process

He suddenly gets all shy when he pulls a perfectly preserved playbill out of his bag and shows it to you

“It’s my good luck charm. Do you mind signing it for me?”

Your eyes are starry because wow he took good care of that playbill and he also knows who you are??

Nervously gives you the pen he was using to sign stuff and you happily autograph the cover for him

“I didn’t realize Atsumu Miya was a fan,” you laugh. “I could say the same about you,” he grins back and holy crap if that’s not the most attractive thing-

You pull a very forward move and flip open to the cast list, writing your phone number under your headshot, and Tsumu is floored when you wink at him

“Hopefully that’ll bring you and me both some luck”

HE IS DOWN FOR THE COUNT; He’s supposed to be the flirty one on the team so everyone is laughing their asses off at his awestruck gaping

Anyways after the day ends and Sakusa has finally finished making fun of Atsumu for being a closeted musical theater stan, he texts you and asks to meet up the next day to which you eagerly respond yes

Y’all spend the rest of your trip going sightseeing together and Atsumu shows you little hidden gems around the area

Sometimes Osamu tags along to your absolute delight, because he’s hilarious and knows where all the best food spots are

Even after you leave Japan you both continue talking back and forth and coordinate times to meet whenever you’re in the same place

You’re ecstatic to know that Tsumu is very well versed when it comes to his shows, however it doesn’t particularly translate into his singing skills lmao sorry babe

But that doesn’t matter to him because at least he can rap Guns and Ships

Starting the relationship is a bit difficult just because you’re both such a long distance from each other, but each of you decide that it’s worth it since you get along so perfectly

There are so many surprise visits and every time he sees a show he sends a massive bouquet of flowers to your dressing room

You’re always spotted out and about in your Black Jackals hoodie because it’s incredibly warm and it also reminds you of him

He’s just so soft for you and supports you no matter what

Sakusa

No one would ever know about Sakusa’s celebrity crush, like ever

Because he’s Sakusa and if you go near his things in the first place you’re guaranteed to be hit with the disinfectant spray bottle

Not to mention the fact that he doesn’t display any of his merch at all

I feel like Sakusa would have more interest in an athlete, cause he knows that you’d take serious care of your health and that you also share his love of competition at a high caliber

Highkey think he’d fall for a figure skater

He admires the elegance and the grueling amount of physical discipline it takes to put on a solid performance

Also the outfits get the Sakusa Sparkle of Approval™

They’re just so pretty and well taken care of

The team knows about his infatuation with the sport more or less; he’s not afraid to watch competitions in front of them

If anyone on MSBY looked hard enough, they could probably figure out his exceptional interest in your performances in particular

But they’re dumbasses so it never really catches on

He for sure went to the Japan Figure Skating Championships to see who would qualify

He got one of those really nice seats up close to the rink because why not

Maybe bought something for you to not-so-subtly and awkwardly toss on the rink after your last performance

He hopes y’all spray those gifts down with a firehose because sweaty bodies be falling all over that ice; disgusting

Anyways it was a panda bear 🥰

You LOVE pandas (wow what a coincidence) and you catch a glimpse of this cute as hell dude tossing one on the rink for you

Who is this man and why is he so pretty??

Anyways you’re watching the rest of the competition from the waiting room with some other contenders

The commentators start to pan in on this top volleyball player guy who came to watch or something and hoLY ShiT-

It’s PANDA MAN

Up close you can see just how pretty he actually is and it’s mind boggling

But despite the fact that he now lives rent free in your head you let it go cause what’re the chances

Pretty damn high, apparently, because guess who you find trying to desperately avoid the crowd leaving the stadium

“Hey, you threw me a panda plush earlier, right? You’re the one they said was on the Japan National Volleyball team!”

Sakusa is kinda shocked you recalled that information from the brief moment that they focused in on him (yes he noticed the cameras but didn’t say anything and just sat there awkwardly)

“I’m surprised you remembered me”

“Well of course I did! A cute guy from the National Team gave me a panda bear!”

You realize that you said he was cute way too late, but the warm crinkle of his eyes tells you that there’s a bit of a smile behind that mask of his now

Sir how cute can you possibly be I am ✨💍 proposing 💍✨

And so starts a wonderful conversation as you both wait for the crowds outside to dissipate

You’re the one to eventually ask for his number because gosh darn it he’s perfect and you’ve already admitted he’s cute so just shoot the shot

Sakusa’s expression stays relatively stoic but on the inside he’s kinda freaking out

But in a good way 😌💖 so he tells you his number and you put it in your phone and vice versa

His contact name is “Cute Volleyboy 🐼” at which Sakusa actually chuckles when you show him

It takes a little bit of conversation back and forth after your first meeting but eventually you’re both confident that you really like each other

Dates where you teach Sakusa how to skate!!! He’s pretty graceful so they’re actually quite enjoyable

You don’t know much about volleyball but Sakusa fills you in a lot, and you get super interested in the sport

Soon after you start dating you surprise him at one of his home games with the Black Jackals

There's no way in hell that Sakusa told his team about you, although everyone noted he was in a great mood as of late

So when you show up on the sidelines after the match and hand their germaphobe of a wing spiker a stuffed panda - which he ACCEPTS - they’re flipping out

Even more so when you kiss him on the cheek because whAT-

Sakusa knew this would happen but finds himself no longer giving a shit since you totally love his team anyways

But if Atsumu ever gets too close to you he won’t hesitate to throw that two-tone haired hoe away

[melianlmao]

Bokuto Koutarou Masterlist

• Enemies To Lovers

Mini series kinda thing, Male Reader

• Last Goodbye

Angst angst angst, based on Dancing With Your Ghost by Sasha Alex Sloan GN! Reader

[saintlevrant]

𝑝𝑟𝑜𝑚𝑝𝑡 — my hq favs' personalities. aye, I'm down to debate this. on me, bruu.

tw: wordie dirties, mention of drugs. read lightheartedly!

Suna has the personality of that one dude in class that didn't talk but was still popular. to be honest, he lives in his own head most of the time. it's intimidating kinda, but he's pretty cool once you talk to him; tells you with his whole chest that he knows where you can get good drugs from.

Kita is literally the stereotypical nice guy that you read about him being in all the fanfics and shit. if I'm being real though, I think he's a control freak. like, he'll stare you down like you stole from him if you talk to him out of turn— not just you, he does it to everyone, but he's not to the point where he'd confront you about it.

Ushijima (yes, he's a fav) is smart and blunt. fuck all that himbo shit. this man can calculate the trajectory of almost anything, and if he sees you trying to "Curry" a piece of paper into the trash can, he'll tell you that you'll miss before you even try. he also thinks that he's a regular ole Seinfeld, so he's laughing to himself 90% of the time.

Bokuto's personality is honestly that of a kid cranked up off of sniffing Smarties. once he comes down from that candy high, he realizes that growing up ain't it— cue emo mode. furthermore, he advocates for Google because most of the shit he knows is the result of late-night web-surfing.

Lev is probably one of those people that stares at his ceiling late at night and asks himself if this is reality. you can take that however you want. yet, when he's around friends, he can't help being the energetic guy he's known to be. probably thinks about that "They always ask 'Where is Lev?' and not 'How is Lev?'." meme 24/7 because he's the goofy friend.

Osamu. I don’t think he's completely polite or respectful, but he's chill and quiet, you know? like if you said hey to him, he'd give you the chin jut as a hi. he's surprisingly weird— as in, knowing what a lot of creepypastas and slasher films are actually based on. probably keeps a sketchbook full of drawings and facts about it.

© this content belongs and is credited to gyecm 2021, do not repost or modify.

[kikyan]

~ The Owl's Prey and the Cat's Toy~

TW: Cursing! Dubcon! (a little towards the end) and that should be all! 

“Did you look at that Akaashi?” 

“Yes, that was very good Bokuto-san.” 

“It was nothing, very easy when you get the hang of it.” 

“Why don’t you ask [Reader] what they think?” 

“You’re right! [Reader]! Did you see that?” 

Slightly confused, they looked around a bit before landing on Akaashi’s gaze, urging them to say yes just to make this easier on everyone.

“Yes?” 

“It was super cool, right? I know I’m awesome, after all, I’m the ace of Fukurodani!” 

“ That you are Bokuto. . .” 

“ Nothing to brag about if you’re fifth in the countries ranking!” 

A sly commenter spoke, alerting everyone to them. It was Kuroo Tetsuro, Nekoma’s captain of their volleyball team. [Reader] merely looked over at Kuroo before glaring slightly, turning to Bokuto to see him angrily confronting him. 

“ A-and? I’m at least better than you when it comes to our plays!” 

[Reader] sighed before placing a hand on Bokuto’s shoulder, offering a small smile. 

“ I think you are an amazing player, Bokuto. Way better than Kuroo, that’s for sure!” 

Bokuto merely turned to face the [Hair Color] haired individual, slightly shocked before his expression turned to one of happiness before smiling really wide. His cheeks turned a little pink before placing his hands on his hips and nodding. 

“ O-of course I’m better than Kuroo! That’s why I win almost all the practice games with them!” 

Kuroo turning to [Reader], looking a bit intimidating before leaving a sly smile and walking away. [Reader] sighed, knowing that they would be scolded for what they said before. [Reader] was the team manager for Nekoma, purely due to coincidence. Here they were at the training camp, preparing them for Spring High, and if they won, hopefully, nationals. Though they were a bit new to the concept just like Yachi was for Karasuno, they still knew was a bit deal this was for them all. 

They were preparing for a new match so [Reader] just walked over to the sidelines to observe the plays. Coach Nekomata and Coach Naoi were both sitting down and observing, though Nekomata turned and smiled upon seeing [Reader] approach the bench. 

“ Well well, looks like someone decided to approach us and observe.” 

“ I observe all the time, just because I don’t really speak doesn’t mean I’m not interested.” 

“ It’s good that you’re here, you can catch up on the information. After all, you joined a bit late.” 

“ Yeah, I know.” 

“ Well for starters, I think hyping up your team instead of the enemy would be better.” 

Blushing slightly, [Reader] gave a small pout. “ L-listen! I did that because Bokuto needed words of affirmation at the moment! Also yeah, he is somewhat better than Kuroo, maybe not in terms of the logical aspects of the sport but his physical attributes are a bit more defined!” 

“ Oh? So they can use big people word’s I see.” 

“ Sir enough. Alright [Reader], I think that as their team manager you should go give them words of advice!” 

“ I don’t think I want to disturb Kuroo and his plasma speech, I think he can do enough.” 

Nekomata threw his head back as he let out a loud laugh, before turning to [Reader] and teasing them more. 

“ I think someone is just scared to talk to them.” 

“ I’m not scared!” 

“ Then how come you’ve missed a week worth of practices with no reason?” 

Having no reasonable comeback besides, “I was busy”, [Reader] was left to ponder their decisions. Squirming around in their seat before huffing slightly and getting up. They walked up to their team’s huddle, looking to the side before looking up to meet Kuroo’s smug grin. He practically did everything he could to make them more involved in the team and the sport, getting them out of the comfort zone as he did with Kenma. 

“ Something you want to add to my plasma speech?” 

“ . . .Do. . .do your best. You guys got this.” 

“ Is that all?!” 

Yamamoto chirped as he stared at [Reader]. Yaku merely shaking his head at the responses from Kuroo and Yamamoto. Kai smiling before addressing them, “ Thank you [Reader], we will.” 

“ Y-yeah, good.” 

With that, they walked back to their original spot with Nekomata looking smugly and turning to Naoi. “ Look’s like I won again.” 

“ W-wait?! You guys bet on this?” 

[Reader] exclaimed before sitting down and witnessing Naoi hand over the promised money to Nekomata. 

“ Listen, I know we might seem to enjoy teasing you and we do. The only thing I want to say is to stop forcing things but to also have a laid back attitude, obviously if you don’t care you won’t involve yourself much. For now, just watch the match and see on what they can improve on.” 

“ Fine.” 

[Reader] watched specifically the movements and the reflexes, ‘it makes sense that we have the reputation we have because they are really good with that. On top of that, I’m mocking Kuroo but the plasma speech makes sense, their movements are really fluid. He really is a great captain and a great player, honestly, I’m unsure of what I can help them with. I’m not even here to help, they seem to have been getting along better without me than with me. . .’ 

The match ended with Karasuno losing and running laps, Nekoma proudly leaving the court. [Reader] got up and distributed towels and water for everyone. Everyone thanking them, before they got to Kuroo who once again, would not wipe that damn smug expression off his face. 

“ I think your words really helped us out there, [Reader].” 

“ Use this towel to wipe off that smug expression. I hate it.” 

“ Sorry, it’s just the face I have when I win.” 

With a huff and a sigh, [Reader] turned around walking out of the gym to see Yachi standing outside witnessing the boys run. 

“ O-oh h-hello [Reader]!” 

They were away from the boys so they could finally smile without having all their actions criticized by them. 

“ Hello, Yachi-san! Is everything alright?” 

“ Hu-Oh! Yes, everything is fine! Sorry, I’m just a bit spaced out, this is my first trip here and for volleyball reasons.” 

“ Don’t sweat it, same here. I get what you mean.” 

“ Oh, I thought you were Nekoma’s manager for longer. . .” 

“ Nah, I recently became their manager as well. I joined a bit before Lev did, the tall Russian guy. Anyways, it’s all a bit new to me as well, I don’t know much about volleyball either so that’s another issue added to my plate.” 

“ Oh, I might not know much but I’m always willing to listen! Of course, I don’t want to see nosey or pry, so if you want to share I am more than welcome to listen!” 

“ Thank’s Yachi! I’ll take you up on that offer actually, but maybe later because the boys are close by, and who knows what they would say if they heard.” 

“ Oh, do you not get along with them?” 

“ It’s not that it’s. . . it’s something else. It’s just that while I get along with most of them it’s always one of them that ends up pissing me the hell of-” 

“ Hey [Reader]!” 

“ Speak of the devil, I’ll talk to you later Yachi okay?” 

“ O-okay! See you later!” 

With that, [Reader] jogged up a bit to Kuroo as he gave a run-through of what was to happen. 

“ Listen, we’re all done here so you can help the other managers with something else.” 

“ Is that all?” 

“ Yeah, and smile more. It’s a good look on you.” 

Kuroo turned around and continued to walk away, leaving [Reader] alone with a blush on their face. They merely scoffed before turning around and heading over to the kitchen to assist the other managers in preparing small snacks for the teams. 

~~ 

“So [Reader], it’s the first time I saw you! When did you become the Nekoma manager?” 

“ Oh, well. .  .it’s a long story.” 

“ We have plenty of time!” 

“ Well . . .there is a lot to say and I don’t know it seems somewhat childish.” 

“ Listen, we know the peak of childish. We have Bokuto.” 

“ Well, I think I rather have Bokuto than Kuroo to be honest!” 

“ Oh? So is Kuroo the problem? Got a crush on him or something?” 

“ No! It’s just, well I promised Yachi I’d tell her so I might as well you guys.” 

~~ 

[Reader] walked down the halls of Nekoma high with a stress-filled face, their chemistry exam was in two weeks and while they felt somewhat prepared for it a little extra practice wouldn’t hurt anyone. Though they didn’t know who they could as for help since they would be the ones helping others or in some cases, be a bit too confused to offer help. 

‘ Why don’t you ask Kuroo Tetsuro?’ 

‘ Kuroo?’ 

‘ Yeah, I heard that he is pretty good at chemistry, why don’t you ask him? Wasn’t he your lab partner for some assignments before?’ 

‘ I guess…’ 

‘Asking Kuroo for help might be good for you, I hear that he is in the volleyball club so he might be busy.’ 

And there they were, walking the halls looking for Kuroo to ask for help on their upcoming chemistry exam. He was walking around with some classmates when [Reader] found him, being worried to interrupt something important they decided to wait until later until Kuroo called them out. 

“[Reader]! Was there something you needed from one of us?” 

“ Yeah...you actually.” 

“ Oh?” 

Kuroo’s interest piqued, he turned to face them before walking over to where they stood. He stood in place as [Reader] awkwardly gave their proposal. 

“ Listen, I know that we only know each other due to some classes so you can refuse, but I-um, we have a chemistry test coming up and I wanted to know if you could help me study for it.” 

“ Sure.” 

“ Huh?” 

“ Sure, I agree to help. It’s not that much to stress about and we have two weeks. I can work with my volleyball schedule, I mean though we aren’t close I consider you somewhat like a friend.” 

“ Oh sure, um here is my number. You can message me the details and I’ll be there.” 

“ Thanks, is that all?” 

“ Yeah, sorry for bothering you. I’ll pay you back for this just so that we are even-” 

“ Don’t sweat about it right now, I think I know how you can pay me back later. See you soon?” 

“ Yeah…” 

With that Kuroo returned to his group, a bit of teasing here and there about what someone would want with him and such. A couple of days later, two or three studying sessions occurred and Kuroo brought up the question. 

“ So [Reader], about paying me back for this…” 

“ What? Is it money or something?” 

“ No, nothing of the sort. It’s nothing bad it’s just that I’ve noticed you don’t have any clubs you go to and while you have avoided it for some time they are going to force you into some club that you might not like.” 

“ What are you getting at?” 

“ Join the volleyball club.” 

“ Eh? What for?” 

“ Well, we need another manager just to help us out a bit and it can help you in the long run. I heard that you wanted to join a sports-related club because it looks somewhat better in a resume and application.” 

“ Well yeah but volleyball?” 

“ Hear me out. Stop by and check it out a bit, it would mean a lot to me and the payback is that you’ll stop by and check it out. We’ve had some people who don’t like volleyball become players before so I’m sure the same can happen to you if you give it a try. What do you say?” 

“Sure.” 

An awkward request sure but [Reader] walked down to the gym one afternoon mid-way into their practice. Kuroo gleaming a bit as he saw [Reader] standing at the door, Coach Nekomata approaching the timid [Reader] and questioning them. 

“ O-oh, I stopped by because Kuroo asked me to.” 

“ Is that so?” 

“ Coach Nekomata! This is [Reader], the one I offered the manager position to.” 

“ Oh this young one, as I see. Well, if they are interested let me know and we can sort something out.” 

With him out of the way, Kuroo approached [Reader] slightly smiling, “You came.” 

“ It was the least I could do…” 

“ Great! Here let me introduce you to the team and maybe change your mind a bit.” 

One by one they introduced themselves and [Reader] could see that they were oddly a lively and energetic bunch, even with some of them not even interacting. Oddly enough it was soothing to be part of such a crowded yet spaced-out friend group. Some part of them wanted to say ‘yes!’ and the other was a bit scared of failing and doing a horrible job. After revealing how they felt, Kuroo understood and offered up a new deal. 

‘ If you pass your exam, join and I’ll tutor you free of charge.’ 

While it sounded somewhat great, they passed but it was mostly for them. This was a tough decision because they couldn’t fail to avoid the club and it was easier since the decision landed and was made without hesitation. Since then, [Reader] has been Nekoma’s manager with their relationship with Kuroo being a bit rocky since they were pressured a lot into breaking out a bit faster than expected and it’s hard to bond with so many people when that happens. 

~~ 

“ Well, that is a bit rough.” 

“ Yeah...I didn’t know you were going through something like that.” 

“ It’s childish really, but I have no idea. I don’t hate them, but I think that Bokuto would be easier to hang out with because of the way he is.” 

“ Well, with Bokuto he needs constant reassurance so maybe it’s not the best, but from the looks of things, you see the manager position as a chore. Maybe, if you look at it from a different angle you might like it.” 

“ Well, maybe but I don’t know how I should-” 

“ From my perspective, you should stop worrying about Kuroo. Do things your way, how you think it will help the team. You don’t mind the others do you?” 

Kiyoko, Karasuno’s manager, spoke softly as it was a surprise that she even said anything, to begin with, but her cooperation was always welcome. 

“ No, not at all. In fact, I want to talk to the others, I want to befriend them but I feel like I owe them a lot. I only joined not because I wanted to but I felt like I had to at the beginning. Now I do want to, they seem like a lot of fun but I’m not sure what’s stopping me.” 

“ Your distaste with Kuroo. See him not as the captain of the team but as a friend. As a captain, he is trying to force a friendship with everyone but I’m sure that he doesn’t mean to. Approach him as a friend and maybe he can understand.” 

Kiyoko finished her speech with a light blush dusting her cheeks as everyone just went wide and started to compliment her. At the end they all nodded and turned to [Reader], assuring her to voice her concerns. In the end, [Reader] and the other managers passed out the snacks and the dinner for their respected teams. Toward the end of the night, [Reader] passed the gym where Kuroo and Bokuto were practicing for some reason. 

“ Hey [Reader]! Why don’t you stay here and watch us play, maybe you can pick up on some things.” 

“ Yeah! Akaashi look it’s [Reader]! [Reader]! Watch me wipe the floor with those two!” 

[Reader] looked visibly uncomfortable before nodding and walking toward the gym, there they noticed a blonde boy with glasses, Tsukishima from Karasuno. Bokuto’s face was covered in glee as he happily led [Reader] to the sidelines to watch. 

“ May sure you root for me [Reader]!” 

Akaashi smiled softly at his demeanor, Bokuto smiling proudly as [Reader] nodded softly. Kuroo glared a little at the owl haired man before they set up for the game. Practice was going well, Bokuto full of confidence before he set out to spike the volleyball, a cheerful yell as he screamed, 

“[Reader]! Watch this!” 

Only for Kuroo to smirk diabolically, extending his hand to block the ball. It was in that moment that Kuroo was so smug over what he did, Bokuto shocked as hell that his plan backfired, and [Reader’s] mouth wide open. 

“ H-Holy shit! K-Kuroo that was amazing!” 

At the sound of their praise, Kuroo turned to them with shock and confusion written all over his face before a light blush appeared on his face as he looked down at his hand. He smirked before turning to face them, “ Well, it’s nothing seeing as how we do have practice every day, but I’m not the captain of Nekoma for nothing.” 

“ That’s for sure!” 

Bokuto noticed their change in mood, they were so against Kuroo in the morning and praising him, what changed? His hair dropped down as he slumped forward, the practice match was over with [Reader] swooning over Kuroo instead of Bokuto. 

“ Funny thing, he was so quick to play this game off and show off to you when it backfired!” 

“ N-no it didn’t!” 

“ Kuroo don’t tease him! Bokuto I thought your spike was really cool, it was thrown hard as hell-” 

“ but it’s not enough.” 

“Eh?” 

Akaashi, noticing a change in his demeanor, ran up to Bokuto, and guided him outside the gym. 

“ We’ll catch up tomorrow, until then good night.” 

Kuroo smirked at how Bokuto was, earning a slight scolding from [Reader] with Tsukishima sighing and excusing himself. Kuroo was laughing a bit as [Reader] stayed behind to help him clean, but still talking about that block. 

“ Did you really think that was amazing? Have you never seen me block before?” 

“ Not a spike that hard, no! Bokuto does have strength, but one thing is for sure, while I may skip practice, I’ve noticed that you are pretty amazing.” 

Kuroo stayed silent to their praise but indeed he adored it. That’s right, Kuroo Tetsuro has always had a crush on [Reader], anything and everything he has ever done, was for them. 

“ Kuroo, I need to talk to you.” 

At these words, he perked up slightly anxious awaiting what they had to say. 

“ I’ll admit, being a club manager seems like a chore. However, I’m starting to enjoy it a lot more than in the beginning. I know I don’t really act as I care, but I do. It’s just that this is all new to me and at first I thought you were trying to force me into this as a need more than a want, it felt suffocating at some times because it sounded like you wanted me to be a specific way. What I’m trying to get at is that I want to be Nekoma’s volleyball manager, but I want to go about it in my own way. Doesn’t mean I’m not open to suggestions but rather that I want you to have trust in me, as I do you.” 

Kuroo stayed silent, [Reader] thought they angered him a bit before Kuroo nodded slightly. He looked up with a content and satisfied smile, chuckling a bit. [Reader] stood dumbfounded a bit before Kuroo explained. 

“ Took you a while, I wasn’t doing any of this to anger you as opposed to motivating you. Sure it was fun teasing here and there but it was more for you to break out and stand up for yourself, may not have been the best method but it’s something else.” 

With a small smile and a ‘thank you’, [Reader] hugged Kuroo. He stiffened before wrapping his arms around them, after their small moment they all left the gym and went their separate ways. Bokuto was still sulking in their common area, ranting to Akaashi. 

“ I don’t get it! I know I’m not the best but why didn’t they praise me? I put everything into that hit….Akaaassshii~ Why didn’t they say something.”

“ Bokuto-san, it could be because Kuroo is their teammate.” 

“ But they don’t even like him!” 

“ Have you ever tried getting close to them, Bokuto-san?” 

“ Hm?” 

“ I mean, what do you know about [Reader]-san?” 

“ W-well, I k-know they are pretty and very smart, remember the time they tutored me in math? Oh what else, they are kind! Always praises me, and is just cool overall!” 

Akaashi could only sigh in disappointment. These are all things that Bokuto keeps repeating but he isn’t making much sense. 

“ Bokuto, as opposed to Kuroo who goes to the same school like them, it's only natural he would have an advantage over this information. Get close to them if you want to know more about them.”  

“ Yeah but how? If they were interested in my spike, maybe they aren’t interested at all!” 

With a small pout, Bokuto buried himself underneath his blankets with Akaashi sighing for the millionth time today, fiddling a bit with his fingers he turned to Bokuto and spoke up, “ find them at a time they aren’t busy and make a small conversation with them. Ask them what they like and don’t like. Get to talk to them.” 

“ You’re right Akaashi! I will!” 

With that Bokuto smiled before turning to the other side of his bed and snoring away his troubles with a smile on his face. Thinking of all the possibilities and topics they could all talk about as Akaashi looked at him with a face of worry, ‘who knew a crush was this mentally draining? Bokuto was certainly fixated on them, but why?’ 

Bokuto woke up in the middle of the night giddy with excitement and he couldn't go back to sleep. Why wait till tomorrow to talk to them when he had a perfect chance to talk to them now without disruptions from other people, especially Kuroo? With that, he made his way out of the room and into the hallway, trying to remember where [Reader’s] room was located. He was getting frustrated until he saw a familiar figure walk across the hallway, he panicked at first only to see that it was indeed [Reader]. 

“ Bokuto? What are you doing awake?” 

“ Can’t sleep! You?” 

“ Oh, same. I can’t sleep at all and I was a bit thirsty. You should go back before the teachers catch you and scold you.” 

“ Do you have your own room?” 

“ Oh yeah, they had an extra one and since me going on this trip was kinda last minute they threw something together and gave it to me. Why?” 

“ N-no reason at all!” 

[Reader] could notice the silence and awkwardness that radiated out of the owl haired boy and it was starting to get a bit uncomfortable. Deciding enough was enough [Reader] sighed a bit before grabbing Bokuto’s hand and leading him to their room. Bokuto wanted to yell and scream in surprise until he noticed that [Reader] had a finger over their mouth signaling him to be quiet. He nodded before letting them drag him into their room. 

“ You can chill in my room for a bit.” 

“ O-okay. . .” 

“ Also Bokuto. .  .sorry if I offended you earlier. I didn’t mean to, I was trying to say that I never saw a spike-like yours even within Nekoma, you were so cool out there and while I may not have shown it, it was so cool to be in front of an amazing ace!” 

For once Bokuto was struggling on saying something, which is strange since he always had something to say. He simply nodded, a huge blush across his face as a smile was starting to make its way across his face. 

“Y-y-you think so?” 

“ Yep! I mean I’m going, to be honest, there are many things that I admire about you! For starters, you actually try in many places despite having dislikes. Sorry, it’s a bit wordy but I guess what I’m trying to say is that you always try your best to improve. Like when I tutored you for math, sure it's not your best subject but that didn’t stop you from trying!” 

Bokuto was awkwardly looking around trying to calm his heart, [Reader] was getting a bit close to him as they ranted about what they liked about him. His heart couldn’t take it as he started to show signs of his heart exploding from the cuteness. He remembered clearly, it was that day where he fell hard for [Reader]. 

~~ 

It was after a small practice match with Fukurodani where Bokuto expressed to Kuroo that he was struggling in math a lot. Kuroo was being himself teasing him and Akaashi did what he could to explain the situation to the best of his ability. 

“ Coach said that if something wasn’t done about his grades he can’t come to practice anymore. He needs to raise his grade and with this upcoming test he could both pass or fail.” 

“ But you’ll help me right Akaashi??” 

“ Bokuto, you can’t keep relying on Akaashi to help you study, you know.” 

“ About that Bokuto-san, I’m sorry but I’m going to be busy for a couple of days and I can’t tutor you.” 

“ But Akaaaassshhii! Wait, Kuroo can you help me stu-!?” 

“ Nope! Sorry, but this is something you need to do. I have enough problems right now and we recently got a new manager that I’m going to need to trai-!?” 

“ Your name is Bokuto right?” All three men’s attentions were turned to the [Hair Color] haired person with [Eye Color] eyes. Kuroo’s attention shifted a bit, he was visibly uncomfortable with the person. Bokuto and Akaashi started, Bokuto a bit too flustered at the sight of them, nodding at the question. 

“ Right, sorry my name is [Reader’s Full Name] and I am Nekoma’s new manager. Um, listen I don’t know how good they are at math but I’m willing to tutor you! I get decent enough grades and well you said it was borderline right? I can help!” 

“ [Reader] you still don’t know anything about being a manager yet s-” 

“ I don’t need to know anything about being a manager to tutor someone, you tutored me a bit in chemistry but I didn’t see you busting out volleyball references did I? No, besides this is me being friendly, not professional.” 

Kuroo sighed, lightly glaring at them with their ‘sassy’ response. Akaashi thanked them with Bokuto jumping out in glee that they get to be tutored by an attractive person and can return to volleyball. Kuroo merely scoffed at the interaction going back to the Nekoma team leaving [Reader] alone with Bokuto and Akaashi, mostly Akaashi discussing what Bokuto needs help with and giving them both their numbers. Upon the next day, [Reader] got a train to where the nearest library was between Nekoma and Fukurodani. There, Bokuto was already waiting, waiting to be tutored. 

“[Reader]! You’re here! Thank you for coming!” 

“ Y-yeah, nice to meet you again, Bokuto. Should we head inside now-?” 

“ Yeah!” 

“ Alright, but when we go inside can you be a bit quiet, don’t want to get kicked out you know!” 

“ Yep! Yep! Don’t worry about me! I know!” 

As they both entered the library, Bokuto was whispering a bit but would sometimes whisper-yell resulting in the librarian shushing him. [Reader] sighed a bit before turning back to his book, they skimmed over it and called him over. 

“ Bokuto, I skimmed over your book and notes and saw some notes, probably Akaashi but overall this seems kinda easy. Okay, here we go, so the first question…..” 

After an hour, Bokuto started to understand more and more about the problems and how to solve them. He smiled contently more or so until he mentioned that he might forget before the test. [Reader] sighed before letting out a small chuckle, “You might forget before the test but the fact that you’ve been paying attention for so long and trying at least shows that you care!” 

“ Of course I care, volleyball means a lot and as the upper-class man, I need to show what I can do! After all, I’m the coolest there is out there!” 

“You certainly are with your strength and ability, but how about I show you a trick to remember?” 

“ Yeah, sure!” 

With that, [Reader] conversed a bit more with Bokuto and towards the end, they ended up getting something to drink. With that, they discussed more and it started to turn into a study date, unconsciously. 

“ Thank you for helping me out [Reader], that was very cool of you to help me, but then again how could you resist to help me?” 

“ that’s true! I may be new but meeting you and other teams were pretty cool.” 

“ That reminds me...you’re new, aren’t you? I mean I’ve never seen you before.” 

“ Yeah, I am, well to the team at least. I don’t mind being the manager but it’s just stressful, kinda why I was so excited to come to help you.” 

Bokuto turned to face [Reader] with a smile that just got wider and a blush that just got darker. It started as a small crush, but it turned into something else. He felt...happy? Someone, he had a small crush on when some would call him annoying or just shut him out they didn’t. A stranger skipped on club activities, just to meet up with him. Sure, to [Reader] it was just a break from Kuroo and his constant lecturing but to Bokuto? It meant so much more to him. He could only sweat a little thinking about sitting next to someone like this, someone so nice, someone who cared. While his thoughts ran loose, the day came to an end in which [Reader] had to leave back and so did Bokuto. Before they left, they made sure to promise to do one more small study session at a later day or time. In the end, it resulted in hanging out and going to get another drink, sure they studied at the last minute and it was just a small preparation, for once Bokuto didn’t forget any of the work. 

~~ 

Bokuto was snapped out of his memories and turned to face [Reader], leaning slightly forward. 

“ [Reader] I have to tell you somethi-” 

“ It’s late, why aren’t you in your room Bokuto?” 

Bokuto turned to the voice to see Kuroo’s eyes slightly wide and his pupils like slits giving him a ‘cat’ appearance. Kuroo’s tone certainly matched his expression as he was glaring daggers at Bokuto. [Reader] got up and tried to explain to Kuroo the situation when Bokuto simply got up, glaring back. 

“ I was just heading back, Kuroo. See you later, [Reader].” 

[Reader] noticed the tension and awkwardly coughed, bidding their farewells to Bokuto. Bokuto left, not without bumping into Kuroo. It was an awkward interaction, one that left a sour taste within [Reader’s] mouth but once Bokuto was gone Kuroo walked in. 

“ Here so I decided to make you some notes that you can reference in between practice mat-!?” 

“ That’s great but weren’t you a little too rough with him?” 

“ With who? Bokuto?” 

“ Who else, of course! Listen, he was here because he couldn’t sleep and we were just talking, what’s the big issue?” 

“ Well sneaking off at night into someone’s personal room doesn’t exactly look good-!?” 

“ What about you? Aren’t you doing that at this moment?” 

“ I’m the team captain, I’m only dropping off notes to help my team-” 

“ And he was just a friend in need of some help. Just because you say something doesn’t exactly make it true Kuroo, meaning this can’t be a one-sided argument. If coming late into MY room looks bad then it looks bad for everyone no matter who it is.” 

“ Why are you so bent upon this [Reader]-?!” 

“ Because he was just a friend who couldn’t sleep and wanted help and you kicked him out of MY room! Listen Kuroo, I get that we’re more friendly after getting our feelings across but that still doesn’t mean I’ll forgive you acting this way. Besides, you could have left him here with us, and then you both could have been helping me with these notes. If that’s the case I’ll learn them myself.” 

“ [Reader] it’s best if I stay and help you understand, you don’t know much about volleyball so-” 

“ It’s called context clues, Kuroo. I’ve been observing you guys and other teams, I know a bit more than I used to. Besides, you always add a bit too much to your notes so I’ll be fine!.” 

With that Kuroo let out a scoff before getting up and leaving [Reader’s] room. There they were left alone frustrated as hell with the outcomes of this conversation before getting the notebook and flipping through it. Kuroo laid on his futon, confused about what happened earlier. Who was Bokuto to them? Why did they care so much? Bokuto was left with a similar question, why was Kuroo so possessive or whatever the word was? Why did he care so much if he was in [Reader’s] room? It’s not like they were dating or something? Were they? 

~ 

The next day everything was tense, the moment [Reader] called everyone for a huddle and explained more or so what they saw and what they could improve on Kuroo called them out for a lot of stuff. 

“ If you weren’t skipping practice all the damn time you might have learned something.” 

“ If you weren’t tutoring Bokuto and came to practice…” 

“ Kuroo, they are just telling us what they think, they are trying their best.” 

“ Yeah, weren’t you so concerned with them saying something to us? Can’t complain now that they are.” 

Yaku and Kai both came to their defense, Kuroo getting more and more agitated with their comebacks. In the end, [Reader] decided not to intervene at all, until a certain comment hit them. 

“ If you let me help you yesterday maybe you would know a bit mor-!?” 

“ Okay, Tetsuro! The hell you want to say now? Stop treating me like someone who needs help? I get it, I skipped on practice multiple times but I’m at least trying? Isn’t that what you wanted? If it’s not enough for you I might just quit then!” 

Kuroo flinched at their tone, head down and deep in thought. This little outburst alerted Bokuto who was taking his frustration out on the opposing team, ‘quit? N-no!’ Bokuto quickly finished the game and ran out to find [Reader] who stormed out after calling Kuroo out. Coach Nekomata simply brushed it off and told them to let [Reader] cool off, that they were under stress and expectations. They all listened and went back to their games, but when it ended both Bokuto and Kuroo rushed out of there to find them. Kuroo wanted to apologize but he knew that maybe he would be a bit too stubborn to admit it. Bokuto was just trying to find them to make sure they didn’t quit and to bring them up! In the end, they didn’t find [Reader] but rather each other, which didn’t end well. 

“ What are you doing here?” 

“Trying to find [Reader] from something you said!” 

“ Why do they matter to you, not like they are your team manager or something.” 

“ Well it’s simple, they matter to me a lot because they are my...my…!?” 

“ Your what?” 

“ They are someone I love!” 

Kuroo’s eyes widened and he visibly stiffened, Bokuto liked [Reader]? He grabbed Bokuto by his collar but couldn’t do much as Bokuto was quick to react and attacked. 

“ Why do you love them?! They aren’t your manager, you haven’t spent time together as we have! Is that what you were doing last night? Were you secretly plotting to do something to them?” 

“ No, I was about to confess until you interrupted! Besides, you aren’t dating so why do you care about them or what I was going to do? They are your manager, but they don’t belong to you!” 

“ Because I love them too dumbass! God, you never could pick up signs you scatter-brain owl haired fucker!” 

“ Listen here, rooster-head cocky bastard! You sure don’t act like it, you made them upset and even considered quitting!” 

Kuroo had nothing to argue against because for once his friend was correct. Soon enough he let Bokuto go and so did he, Kuroo looking down before sighing. He looked up and saw Bokuto’s angry expression before he cleared his throat and spoke, “So you love them too huh? Are you willing to share?” 

“ S-share? Share them?” 

“ We both love them, sure it pains me to share them but it’s true. At least then we know nobody but us will have them, so. . .do you agree?” 

“ If it’s just us...I can get around that. We just have to make sure that they don’t quit, while you might see them at school they don’t like you a whole lot, but if they quit...I can’t see them at all.” 

“ Then it’s a deal, they will be ours and ours only.” 

~~ 

[Reader] was walking around the camp and some empty gyms that were around. Sure they had a small outburst and decided to go walk around to calm down. As they were walking around, they were suddenly pushed into an empty gym. They managed to look up to see it was...Bokuto? Bokuto smiled and got off of them but before [Reader] could say something Bokuto beat them to the chase. 

“Is everything okay [Reader]? You aren’t really going to quit are you?” 

“ I-I’m fine Bokuto and I’m not sure....it seems that no matter what I do I’m just not a good team manager-!” 

“ I think you’re the best team manager. You’re so great, kind, and so helpful. You’re amazing [Reader].” 

Blushing slightly at his words, [Reader] smiled a bit before trying to get up until Bokuto pushed them down slightly. They stared up, a little scared because Bokuto was pushing them down slightly with their strength. 

“ B-Bokuto...c-can you get up.” 

“ Nope! Not until you make up with Kuroo!” 

“ K-Kuroo?” 

With that Kuroo walked out and cuddled in between [Reader’s] neck with Bokuto slightly laughing. 

“ Can you forgive little old me for yelling? It’s just that I was jealous that someone was taking away your attention. Thing is sweetheart… me and Bokuto here agreed to share you.” 

“ S-share me? W-what are you talking about Kuroo? Both of you get off me!” 

“ NO! If I get off of you you’ll quit and never come back! I’ll never see you again!” 

“ If you quit, I won’t see you as often and we can’t leave poor Bokuto here without seeing you.” 

Bokuto’s shout scared [Reader] as they went rigid in their hold. Kuroo chuckled at the sight of them until they started to struggle again, it wasn’t until Bokuto started to hold their wrists tightly that they winced in pain. Kuroo grabbed them by the waist and started to lightly squish them from the pressure of his hold. 

“L-let me go! Before I ye-!?” 

[Readers] mouth was silenced by Bokuto’s lips placed on them. Bokuto was giving sloppy kisses at this point but it was enough to make them quiet. Kuroo chuckled at the expression [Reader] was giving and how he could hear their heartbeat race. They kissed their neck and started to suck on it, giving them bites here and there. [Reader] let out silent tears as they struggled to getaway. Kuroo bit their neck, opening their mouth slightly letting Bokuto’s tongue enter their mouth. His tongue was exploring their mouth as Kuroo chuckled slightly into their neck. Once Bokuto was satisfied and felt the need to breathe, he released from his mouth and went to breathe, a string of saliva connecting the two. Kuroo licked the shell of [Reader’s] ear making them squirm in disgust. 

“ I’ve always loved you [Reader], those small interactions with you as my lab partner when you asked me for help I thought the universe was playing with me, and when you joined as a manager? Well, it was handing me what I always wanted on a silver platter.” 

“ You were everything I ever wanted [Reader], the way you went out of your way to praise and help me, you were like an angel helping me every step of the way. You can’t blame us for loving you, it’s just a part of life.” 

“ though what a pity… 

.

.

.

.

.

you’re the owl’s prey and the cat’s toy~

[let-me-simp-in-peace]

Summary for a Bokuto x Reader story I’m considering writing:

~

The Butterfly Effect: The theory that something small can change everything.

Though you didn’t know it at the time, the moment you opened your door to your owl haired neighbor, who was wielding a fake leg like a baseball bat, was just the beginning of the chain of insignificant moments that would change your life.