Bokuto - Blog Posts

A Hairy Situation (Bokuto x Reader/Soulmate AU)

*GIF not mine*

Summary: Back home in America, YN was free to dye her hair whatever color she pleased. But now that she’s transferred to Japan as a foreign exchange student, she realizes that she’s much closer to her soulmate than she used to be... hence why her hair looks like an explosion of black and gray. What an asshole.

Author’s note: Haikyuu!! Bokuto x reader soulmate au. This one was also written at 3 am...and then deleted, so now I’m pissed. This is better than my first fanfic tho... I think, so enjoy!

Word count: 3775

        When the new girl stepped into Karasuno, all eyes were on her. One, because she was new, duh. Two, because she was an American transfer student nobody expected to arrive. Three, because her hair looked like an explosion in an old-school, black-and-white film. As soon as people noticed this unavoidable characteristic, they pitied her.

“Her soulmate is such an asshole,” the students whispered amongst themselves. After all, who would want owl-like hair on the top of their head, aside from a sadistic jerk.

       Here is a little known biology fact about soulmates in this world: females hold the recessive gene for hair. If two female soulmates got together, their hair colors would blend. If two males got together, their hair would be an equally-expressed mixture. Finally, when a female and a male soulmate are in close enough proximity to each other, as like all soul matches, the female’s initial hair color retreats to make room for the male’s hair color. That’s just simple human-soulmate genetics, existing in the world since the dawn of time. 

       Everyone knew the girl must not have been the cause for her hair color for one simple reason: she looked absolutely miserable. Her hands were white-knuckled around the straps of her school bag, and her shoes squeaked as she pathetically dragged her feet along the floor. She decided to keep her head down, and because of this, no one had noticed how she was fuming. With clenched teeth and burning, E/C eyes, the girl resisted the urge to throw a string of curses every glimpse she caught of her hair. Wait no, not of her hair, of her soulmate’s hair.

Unfurling the crumpled schedule in her hand, YN finally looked up to search for her classroom, resisting a sneer when her fellow pupils at last saw how pissed she truly was. Rushing into her homeroom, she met with the teacher, took her seat, and buried her striking head into her folded arms, hoping and praying to the heavens for the power of invisibility.

                            ***

       It was a known fact that when a soulmate pair was heterosexual, the female, try all she might, would never control the hair color of her other half. No dyes, no matter how strong, could erase the evidence of true-love proximity. Way early on, scientists had done the math and discovered that soulmate hair color would show when the two individuals were, at most, 250 miles away from each other.

With this idea, YN figured that her destined male companion must be in Japan, but she had no idea where. Back in the United States, she was free to dye her hair any color of her choosing, but had stuck with H/C on her flight to the Miyagi Prefecture. However, after getting off the plane and taking a much needed bathroom break, she had almost cried in despair when she saw her peppered strands. Now, she figured she could tell the future, as in that bathroom she had guessed the exact nickname the current bullies in Karasuno had just called her: Salt and Pepper. 

       At first, she had despised it, but after hearing it twenty times in a row during her lunch break, it began to grow on her. Much like her hair color. She realized that it wasn’t half-bad, and that the nicknames would simply be the worst thing to come from it. YN had passed all the stages of grief and had finally moved on to acceptance, as she realized it was out of her control. She would, however, explode on her soulmate once she finally met him. The amount of an ass-kicking he would receive would lead to him begging her to stop so he could go buy hair dye immediately.

YN was practically drooling at the idea of saving her reputation and getting to kick someone’s ass all in the same day, but she was shaken out of this dream by a jumpy ginger and his stoic, blue-eyed companion. She had been walking down the halls, planning to return to her class after lunch hour, only to be halted by their indiscreet whisper-conversation as they passed. 

       “Kageyama, doesn’t her hair remind you of Bokuto? That amazing ace from Fukurodani?” 

       The short redhead poked his companion in the side, only to receive a smack to the back of the head as the other calmly stated, “I guess so. We are pretty close to Tokyo now that I think about it.” 

       YN whirled around on her heels and caught up with the pair while exclaiming, “Hey, you guys know my soulmate? Where is he?”

       The taller one, Kageyama she assumed, stayed impassive even as a small blush grew on his face before he stated, “We don’t know for sure, but it could be this guy we know from Fukurodani Academy.”

       The shorter one added, “We’ve played him in volleyball, and he’s amazing! Their team is actually travelling down here tomorrow for a practice game! You should come.”

       “Oh, I definitely will. Sounds fun.” YN’s eyes flared at the idea of meeting her soulmate, if only to tell him off, and the heat that exuded from her stare caused the two boys to shy away slightly. Hinata, she learned, told her the time and place of their volleyball match tomorrow, to which she thanked him with mischievous eyes before strutting away, mentally preparing for the inevitable beat-down the next day.  

                               ***

       Volleyball, YN decided, is actually pretty entertaining to watch, but their practice is boring as hell. It looks so much more fun to play, YN thought to herself, biting her lip in excitement. Her nerves were aflame with anticipation, and she would finally get to meet her soulmate. The rousing idea of possibly encountering him for the first time almost distracted her of her main goal. Almost.

However, this fact didn’t matter. YN would never forget the first night of her arrival in Japan, standing in the bathroom of her host family and glaring at herself in the mirror. Well, not herself, but her hair. Every clump of black interspersed with light gray had increased her resentment of him. She didn’t want to hate him. This was revealed when she suddenly began tearing up while looking at herself. 

      YN wanted to believe he was just a fun guy who joked around and enjoyed others’ attention, but she knew differently. The world was cruel, and the odds were stacked against her, and from that night on, the young girl began to buy into the idea that others were selling her.

“My soulmate is such an asshole,” she had whispered to herself in the mirror before crumpling to a miserable ball on the floor.

YN was stuck in a foreign country with no friends and no family, surrounded only by strangers she rarely understood without thinking very hard, who accused her soulmate of being cruel and pitied her because of that supposed fact. Now, as she watched Karasuno’s boy’s volleyball team practice for today’s game, she couldn’t help her mind wandering back to what Hinata had told her.

       “He’s amazing! And super nice too! He taught me this move where my arm prepares to go ‘Bam!’ but then it slows down to make the ball go ‘Fwoosh!’ I can’t wait for you to see…” The ginger’s voice faded away as YN recalled the memory of his rambling and complementing of her soulmate. 

       Maybe he won’t be so bad, YN thought to herself, but was startled out of her daze when the doors of Karasuno’s first gym burst open with a loud “Hey! Hey! Hey!”

A smile grew on her face at the sound of the amusing voice, and YN was surprised by her involuntary actions, but decided to let her grin stay when she saw who spoke. It was her soulmate, salt-and-peppered hair and all.

                               ***

       “Been a long time, Tsukki boy!” Bokuto shouted as he clapped his blond friend on the back. 

       Tsukishima scrambled to catch his glasses as they popped off his face, recovering them and haughtily pushing them back up his nose with a strong finger while declaring, “It’s only been like two weeks, and you need to quiet down, you’re giving me a headache already. I won’t make it through the game if you keep this up.” Halfway into Tsukishima’s rant, the blond had been instantly forgotten when Hinata raced over to Bokuto, jumping up and down in front of the third year while excitedly chatting with him. 

       “Hey, Bokuto, I’ve been working on the move you taught me! It works great, I can’t wait to kick your ass with it!” the carrot-top enthusiastically bragged.

       The owl-haired ace chuckled boisterously in return, ruffling the ginger’s hair while playfully responding, “Alright little man, show me what you got.”

Rolling his eyes, Akaashi proceeded to drag Bokuto away from Karasuno’s first years, warning the older that he wouldn’t get any sets if he didn’t start practicing. The ace took the slight to heart and scrambled over to Fukurodani’s side of the net, grumbling under his breath about how mean his setter was. 

       As the game commenced, Fukurodani’s captain could not resist his eyes straying to the stands, feeling as though something was calling to him from there, begging him to take just one glance.

Directly above Karasuno’s “Fly” banner stood a girl. Not just any girl, but a girl with black and white hair. When Bokuto spotted her, his smile grew larger than the universe itself, and he waved at her frantically after she made eye contact. The girl’s face grew a few shades shy of a tomato, and she softly smiled, giving him a small wave back.

Returning his attention to the game, Bokuto knew not only would he not lose, but he would also scrub the floor with these guys, no matter how friendly he had been before. After all, his soulmate was watching, and he would do everything he could to keep her gorgeous gaze on himself. 

                               ***

       “What the hell was that idiot thinking, waving at me in the middle of the game. He’s gonna get one right to the face, I just know it. What a cocky bastard,” YN rambled to herself, covering her warm cheeks with her cold hands. No matter what she did though, the burn stayed, and the smile that was hurting her cheeks was probably definitely part of the problem.

Her eyes never strayed from his form for a second during the first set, and the only word she could think of to define her soulmate was hella “Thick.” He was a good thick, hell, a great thick. The best thick in the whole, goddamned, world- okay what. What is wrong with me, she thought to herself, shaking her head as if to erase her previous musings. YN was taken out of her mental cleansing when she heard a whistle blow. The telltale end of the game’s first set. Immediately, the girl’s first instinct was to look for him, Bokuto, but she instead, for whatever reason, decided to duck out of the stands and go to the bathroom. 

       “What is wrong with me?” YN repeated to herself as she observed her red cheeks in the mirror. After all that time, the pink hues hadn’t slightened even the tiniest bit, but YN was more confused as to why she was okay with that fact. That she almost wanted her soulmate to see how shy he made her feel, how nervous she was around him.

Maybe it was because he seemed so nice, and to make up for how she had assumed he would be rude, she allowed him to see her blushing like a sprinter after a marathon. Maybe it was that, just maybe yes. Either way, YN knew she would have to leave the bathroom sometime, and she didn’t want to miss the rest of the game. 

                               ***

       Fukurodani had won the first set; not by a landslide as Bokuto had hoped, but only by two points, finally earned after a long rally. But a victory was a victory, no matter how small, and when Bokuto stepped off the court with an over-eager fist pump and multiple high fives from his teammates, his eyes first traveled to the stands.

After scrutinizing every inch of the gym’s upper level, he still couldn’t find her. Maybe he had scared her off? Was the waving too much? No way, with the way she blushed but smiled and waved back anyways, Bokuto knew she was ready to stay in for the long run.

Sadly, no matter how much or how long the ace assured himself of his soulmate’s feelings, he felt doubt creep in the longer she was absent from the stands. What if she thinks she can run onto the court and greet me after hearing those whistles? That would be so cute, but she would probably be reprimanded for it though. But it would be worth it, right? God, I hope she does that…. The owl-haired captain continued to ramble to himself mentally as the rest of his team kept their heads in the game, discussing how to defeat Karasuno in the next set. 

       “Washio, I know their number ten is fast, so I need you to keep following him whenever you see him make a move. The others up front will… Bokuto? Are you listening?” Akaashi trailed off while watching his captain glare at the stands and mutter under his breath.

       Hesitantly, the setter placed his hand on the third year’s shoulder, only to have Bokuto quickly swivel back around and irritably snap, “I’m fine, let’s just keep playing.” Shaking off Akaashi’s grip, the ace marched back onto the court, ready to land twenty-five service aces in a row, just to show his soulmate what she was totally missing! Behind Bokuto, the rest of his teammates sighed and rolled their eyes.

       Sarukui watched Bokuto before saying, “Okay, I know it’s happened before, but isn’t it, like, a little too early for this? I don’t think it’s ever happened this quick.”

       Akaashi shakes his head and flatly responds, “I don’t know, he seemed a little distracted even during the first set. And remember when he waved to that girl in the crowd? I don’t see her here anymore, so that might be part of it. Either way, let’s just play without him and hope he’s able to get back into his groove even if she doesn’t return.”

The rest of the team nods in agreement and jogs back toward the court, avoiding the tempermatic captain preparing to serve. Akaashi stays back and glances at his coaches, only to receive a questioning look as they gesture to Bokuto. The setter only responds with a shrug of his shoulders before hustling back onto the court. All we can do now is hope for the best, Akaashi thinks.

                               ***

       When YN returns to her place behind the banner with cooler cheeks, her eyes are immediately drawn to her soulmate. He seems to be getting ready to serve, but he won’t even look up at her. YN knows he must feel bad after she disappeared, and wonders how to make up for her actions without embarrassing herself, knowing she would need a little reassurance too if she was in his position.

The owl-haired ace is fuming on the court, and suddenly YN wonders how volatile her soulmate truly is. As Bokuto throws up the ball, preparing for a jump serve, YN flinches at how loud the sound of impact is, and watches as the ball flies over the net, crashing hard into the wall directly behind Karasuno. The two defenders in the home team’s back row do not even get a chance to watch the ball as it flies past them with horrendous speed, and their eyes go wide in...surprise? Or fear? Maybe both.

After the scene, Bokuto falls to his knees dramatically and releases a loud groan, shaking his head in his hands. “Damn it, I’m so stupid! What have I done?!”

       YN glances nervously at the slight dent in the wood paneling of the wall and wonders if he’ll have to pay for damage. “Crap,” she whispers to herself, knowing what she has to do.

                               ***

       Akaashi has been there for many of Bokuto’s mood swings, and he’s seen it all.

Well, apparently not until now. From his own red handprints left on his cheeks to stomping around like a five-year-old, Akaashi knows about Bokuto’s temper like bees know about honey. It’s obvious, he’s been around it a lot, and he knows what to expect… or, at least he used to know.

Now, it’s like undiscovered territory, and Akaashi is wary of stepping on any landmine that might just cause his friend to explode.

With an outstretched hand, Akaashi wonders whether he should approach Bokuto or not, but before he can decide, the doors to the gym burst open.

Kageyama and Hinata observe silently as YN rushes past them, ducking under the volleyball net and beelining it towards Bokuto, her black and white hair flowing in the air from her speed. Nobody makes a noise to protest or warn her as she approaches him, slowing down in close enough proximity for him to feel her presence. Ever so dejectedly, the ace of Fukurodani raises his head to look at her, before blasting up to his feet and embracing her in a tight hug. 

       “I’m so sorry for scaring you away. Please don’t reject me, I don’t think I could handle it.” Bokuto’s voice wavers slightly as he clings to her even harder, his head tucked into her shoulder. YN wonders if he’ll start crying, but shakes off the thought and slowly twists out of his grip. At first, he hugs her even tighter, then he slowly, begrudgingly listens and peels away from her body. Bokuto tries to step away dejectedly, only for YN to grasp his hand and lead him out of the gym, ignoring the many pairs of eyes watching.

       Before shutting the door, YN looks at both teams and politely smiles. “Continue.” 

       Watching the pair of soulmates disappear behind the exit, Akaashi closes his dropped jaw and shares an incredulous look with the people around him, shaking his head before shrugging his shoulders once more.

“May as well.”

                               ***

       Bokuto’s eyes glow as YN watches the door close before embracing him in a warm bear hug.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry I screwed up your game, and I distracted you and I just left before saying anything. But to be honest, I was just, I don’t know, kind of scared.” Her voice is muffled in his shoulder, and she keeps hugging him tighter and tighter until he feels like he can’t breath, and he doesn’t mind.

Actually, as a matter of fact, he’s reveling in it. This feeling, the feeling of someone absolutely needing him to know that they care for him, and that they were sorry for his game going awry, it makes him giddy.

Bokuto has decided he also likes breathing though, and pats her back in an effort to get her to unclench. Just a little, because when she starts to pull back too much, he roughly tugs her back in, and the breath of fresh air her lungs had just received is too-quickly released back to the atmosphere.

       “It’s okay,” he grins against her, “I’m just glad you came back. I wanted- needed you to come back. I wanted to meet you properly before I left you.” With that statement, she pulls away and narrows her eyes at him.

       “Umm, where are you planning on going?” she asks, flustered at the thought of him leaving so soon. 

       “Well, you know, I kind of live in Tokyo. And you’re a foreign exchange student, right? I just needed this one chance for us to, you know, meet.” YN had totally forgotten that she wasn’t from here, and that he was only visiting Karasuno for a practice match. After today, who knows how long it would be before she got to see him again. Quickly, she grasps the front of his jersey as she demands, “I need your phone number.”

       “Wow, ‘need’ huh? I’m not used to girls being so forward.”

       “Oh, shut up and gimme it.” YN whips out her phone and passes it to him, open and ready for a new contact.

Bokuto’s heart warms, and while typing in his information, he becomes all excited and jumpy at how desperate his soulmate seems to need contact with him. He decides he likes to feel needed, and he also decides he doesn’t like how far away his soulmate is at the moment.

Stepping directly to her, Bokuto whips out YN’s camera and grasps her on the shoulder, tugging her close and kissing her on the side of the cheek as she blushes rose-red for the picture. Snapping it quickly, Fukurodani’s captain sets it as his contact picture and sends it to his phone as well.

Eagerly, he shows her the picture he had taken and watches as she begins to shy away from him. Catching on quick, Bokuto hurriedly wraps his arm around her shoulder and tucks the side of his head into her hair. 

       With both of them still staring at the photo, Bokuto moves his mouth towards her ear and cheekily whispers, “We look amazing together. We must be destined for each other or something.”

       He moves away with a bright, slightly smug smile as YN softly nods. “Yeah, something like that.” Bokuto moves to stand directly in front of her and observes her bashful appearance, trailing a hand up to twirl a strand of black-and-whiteness between his fingertips. 

       “Your hair looks great like this, by the way.” 

       The mood in the hall darkens abruptly at his words. YN’s pleasant smile falls from her lips, and she instantly remembers that he is her soulmate. He is the one who ruined her hair from the moment she landed in Japan.

Oh man, did she get pissed. Turns out Bokuto isn’t the only one whose attitude can change in an instant. Maybe it has something to do with the hair?

                               ***

       Inside the gym, as the teams decided to keep playing, the game was going well. Karasuno’s newly developed skills were working, and Fukurodani was learning how to adjust to games without Bokuto. Just as the second set was about to end, however, the teams heard something... slightly unsettling. 

“Bokuto, you son of a b***h, what the f**k is wrong with you?! You a**hole, who the hell dyes their hair this color?! You dumba** motherf*****, I’m gonna kill you!” 

       Suddenly, Bokuto bursts into the gym and runs around like a headless chicken, releasing an ear-piercing screech.

“Akaashi help, my soulmate’s trying to kill me!”

The setter wasn’t surprised; he would react the same way if he had that hair and couldn’t change it. And as YN charged into the gym, storming after her fated lover, something told her she wasn’t as much of a fan of her hair as she originally thought.

soft dom! bokuto + heavy on the size kink + mentions of a lot of cum + overstimulation + intense squirting + praise + f! reader

bokutos big, he knows he is- he sees it in the way you sink deeper into the bed when he folds you down, settles the weight of his hips agaisnt you.

he should be more gentle... maybe. but he’s not sure you’d like that because when he presses himself down onto you, enough to knock the wind out of you he sees the way your eyes curl back into your head.

he feels the way your cunt clenches down onto him, feels the sudden rush of warm wetness coat his crotch- right where your lips stretch around his thick cock.

“sweet girl.” he whispers, taking in your lolling tongue, head digging into bed as you tilt your chin up into him, shaky hands balled into cute fists between the space of you and him, wheezing out how good he feels.

“like being pinned down like this, hm?” its an almost teasing lilt. you think he’s laughing at your stupefied state, but in reality he’s marveling, basking in how good you are to him, greedily accepting his cock.

he lifts his hips off you, you can feel it when the heat of his balls leave your ass and you already miss it. theres nothing more delicious than being pressed, squished down onto the bed, barely able to suck in a shaky inhale.

“p-please!” you wail against the sound of your squelching cunt, feeling his thick cock tug at your walls as he leaves. your little tantrum is put to an end when he uses his whole weight, uses that driving force to slap back down onto you.

your body gives into the shockwave, shaking just like every single inch of skin and fluff and fat while he continues the brutal slam down and down and down.

it’s a frenzy entanglement- you provoke him, spur him on to drive into you faster and harder, the way you wiggle and clench down onto his thick cock and heavy balls, creaming so hard that with each impact you can not only hear it- you feel it splatter down in between the folds of your stretched cunt, drip down the seam of your ass.

“d-dirty.” bokuto huffs, tongue seemingly working too slow for his frantic mind, pushing past the burn he feels, hips smushing down into your pelvis over and over. he mutters a single word, but you understand exactly what he means and the wave of pure pleasure burning through your veins was enough to tip you to an orgasm that made bokuto stop all actions.

even with him holding your legs, he feels the push back- sees the way your muscles tense up, slipping past his hold, flopping onto the bed as your hips rut up and down- still stuffed full of him, splatter after splatter of your cum bathing his lower stomach and thighs in it all.

it makes his head dizzy, watching eagerly at your trembling, seizing body, unable to stop the way his shoulder shakes as he leans back to watch it all happen.

you’re wonderful, beautiful in the way you let him fuck you stupid like this. pushing into the punishing heat of your pussy, even while it’s doing everything it can to push his throbbing cock out.

he should say sorry- knowing you can’t deny him while you’re swimming in a hazy pool of ecstasy- but there’s a frantic push inside to cum in your cunt while you can’t even think.

he groans out another hushed puff of air when the piston of him in you draws even more squirts of cum, even more trembling of your thighs- involuntarily trying to clamp against his hips, begging him to stop.

and he makes it quick, finally pressing right to you- a reprieve in your favor.

like many times before, he fills you up nice and pretty, and that’s what knocks you back to coherency- blinking against your tears as you grab at his mass, muscle and fluff and everything that makes him, him.

“k-kou- f-fuck!” you chatter, squealing, happy and content.

he joins you in the eagerness, bringing his shaky form to join you, not afraid to lean his weight onto your smaller frame.

“good girl.” bokuto slurs, muffled by the pillow right by your head- still having half a mind to give you the praises you love.

you two sleep right after, him soft and weightless- tucking your body into him, barely able to contain the happiness that washes over both bodies, entangled in each other.

bokuto being really sensitive during blowjobs and he jerks up into your mouth making you gAG and he feels really bad about it - but its so good so hes just apologizing while fucking your face

hnnnnh;

— throat fucking + hurt/comfort + spit + mentions of pain + minor cum play + gn! reader

you didn’t mean to- he’s sensitive and you know that, but the single sweep- just a swipe of the tip of your tongue over the ridge of skin right below his swollen and almost purpling head of his cock makes him see stars.

his hands instinctively shoot down and grab your hair, grabs your head with heated and shaky fingers- gasping as a loud moan leaves his throat-

“oh!” he grumbles, tossing his head back, “feels good!”

bokuto is weak, weak to your sinful mouth and consequently bucks up into it- clenching tummy seizing up as he feels you gag, there’s a tiny part of him that enjoys how you sound right now, but with an open mouth; he apologizes reverently.

“sorry... fuck i’m so sorry angel.”

and while he is, truly is, he can’t help the quick thrusting he gives you, feeling you jerk, feeling strings of warm spit trickle out of your mouth.

your fingers dig into the muscle of his thighs so hard there’s surely going to be welts tomorrow. it’s lewd- the sound of his fat cock splitting your mouth open and his heavy fat balls also slapping up, knocking into your chin.

he can hear and fucking feel the surprised whimpers that leave you, he’s taken liberty in using your face to cum- youre nearly limp inbetween his palms and he can’t help it. he knows his cock is fat- knows he should be more gentle but he likes the way your seizing, clenching throat feels around him.

there’s words of apology just tumbling from his lips, but you can’t hear over the rush of blood to your face- trying your hardest not to pass out in a moment like this, you wanted to comfort him- but couldn’t.

“sorry. i’m so sorry.” bokuto pants, lost in it all- his golden eyes are wide, roaming the ceiling before he looks down at you- pinched eyebrows, tears rolling down your face, tresses of your hair caught between his fingers, spit bubbles foaming in the corners of your poor lips.

it does him in, quickening his shallow breathing as he tenses up, bringing your head down- nose smushing against his pubes as he cums hotly, swelling in your mouth, cuming so violently thanks to you- that it seeps up and past the clenching of your throat, costing his cock and smearing out at the base of where your lips end and his pubes begin.

once he’s done, and calmed down, brought back to earth- he gently takes his softening cock out of your mouth, letting you sputter, hand coming down to pat your back, another wiping tears away.

“sorry baby, my angel- i’m so sorry.” koutarou coos, but with the glazed look you give him; he knows it’s okay, knows because you smile, cum and spit stained lips stretching out into a shaky smile and nod, a silent dismissal of his worries.

you loved being used like this.

front of the brain rn is bokuto coming in ur panties,,,,take that in whatever direction u would like to

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

— bokuto cumin in your panties (pregame) + thigh job + pussy job + messy panties+ praise + f! reader

he didn’t have the time to take care of you how he wanted, it was a shame.

seeing you paw at him before his match, whining about how seeing him practice on the court earlier made you so sticky and wet made him so fucking hard and of course he couldn’t just walk out into the his game like that... right?

he makes you stand still, crossing your ankles while he slides his cock inbetween your thighs, the tip of his cock just barely brushing against your cute little clit.

bokuto grabs your hips, towering over you from behind, not even bothering in tugging your bottoms off all the way, pulling you back onto him.

“sorry baby.” he grunts, his precum and your blooming arousal is the only thing that keeps him slick enough to pass over your puffy cunt lips.

“but- you know i won’t fuck your pussy...” koutarou grunts, the force of him grabbing at you makes you whimper, knees going weak, “unless i have time to make you cum over and over.” he hisses, the sound of his fat cock parting your folds over and over makes him dizzy.

taking you like this is proving to be an even better warm up than anything he did earlier.

“yes! i know- i know...” you whine, fingers digging into his own strong and veiny arms, knowing that he’s got you- knowing that he won’t let you fall or let anything happen to you while he fucks the tightness between your thighs.

“fuck- fuck... gunna cum baby...” he growls, nipping the sensitive piece of skin lining your shoulder, you can see by the reflection in the wide mirror in the locker room just how much he’s towering over you- how much thicker his body is... it makes you so dizzy and throb in need.

“please! please cum, your match is starting soon.” you breathlessly pant, hearing the way his teammates are lining up to leave and make their appearance on the court- it’s pure desperation, pure need to have him finish and cum that drives you to squeeze your thighs even tighter, buck back into him, singing his praises while he huffs and whines.

“shit! that’s my girl... pretty little thing... prettiest thighs ever.” koutarou breathes, detaching himself, roughly fucking his fist- the other hand pushing your back, making you tumble forward slightly, his thick thigh coming inbetween your legs.

he hooks his fingers back on the waistband of your bottoms, giving him access to your panties, catching every single spurt of cum, mingling with the arousal that had fallen off your cute cunt in the midst of it all.

there’s a tingle playing at the base of his skull, a feral and deep heat swirling in his tummy at the thought of you walking around with panties he just came all over.

regulating his breathing, carding a hair through his spiky hair, he slaps your exposed cunt, splattering the arousal dripping off you, tucking himself in his athletic shorts, signaling you to pull your ruined underwear up.

“ah.” you wince, grumbling about how sticky and hot his cum feels pressed against your pussy.

he simply winks at you, golden eyes shining mischievously while a thick tongue sweeps up the digits covered in the slick he caught from that slap against your pussy.

“gunna play extra good... knowing my cute little baby’s got my cum all warmed up and save.” bokuto chuckles, tugging you along as he makes his way to the court.

needy! bokuto + but still very much dom! bokuto + bokuto uses your panties to get off + male masturbation + f! reader

he knows you’ll be back soon, knows that in a couple minutes you’ll walk through the door and he’ll be able to touch you, hold you while he takes you; wants to bury his cock inside the moment you’ve stepped through the door, not needing to prep you- wants to take you dry and watch your eyes roll to the back of your head, shaking and whimpering for him to slow down before slumping down in a nice and plaint-

fuck.

bokuto runs a hand through his hair, pushing the silver and darkened strands to settle off his face, sighing at the way he let his thoughts wander.

with a pitiful look he glances down, sees his cock strain against his sweats, tilting to the left, jumping with every thought of you flickering through his mind.

he knows you’ll be back soon... but he can’t wait.

with heavy steps, he pads into your shared room, heartbeat quickening when he sees your drawer- partially opened, letting him see the various colors in panties you like wearing.

he’s quick to single out the pair he knows will get him off the fastest...

they’re pink and frilly, laced and pretty.

bokuto holds them inside a clenched fist- turning around, sitting himself on the bed, heart pounding so hard he can see it in his vision as he looks down at the crumpled material.

it’s quick, the way he hooks his thumb under the wasiteband and brings his cock out- rigid in his movements; he hasn’t done this in so long, and why would he went he has you?

there’s a note of urgency because he knows you’ll be here soon anyways- maybe this was just an excuse to make a mess agasint the pretty lace he loves seeing you in, and as he pumps his cock in hard tugs- hissing at the roughness, it might be true.

bokuto whines, tilts his reddened face back- looking at the ceiling while the sound of his palm slapping heavily against his pelvis rings out loudly into the room, see’s stars and sees you. his imagination pulling scenes of shared moments like the weight of you above him while you ride him, dripping down his cock, or how you wheeze out his name, high and whiny when he folds your body down into a press-

“f-fuck! fuck!” koutarou exclaims, the memory has his dick throb, pulling his balls tight, pitching forward in order to stave off the orgasm. the hand still clutching your panties meets the hand furiously fucking himself, swiping the precum dribbling down with the pink. he watches with wide eyes at how nice the color looks darkening at the translucent pre.

its natural, the order in which it all plays out, not thinking as he wraps your panties around his thick cock, red, angry head peaking at the top and another whine leaves him between the lips caught in between his teeth.

there’s something he really likes about how the thin piece looks stretched around and around him- he didnt even know what was transpiring inside his mind while he gave the first tentative drag, lips popping open in a whimper.

he wants you so badly, tummy swirling at the pain- but this will do, this will surely do.

the pretty fabric now snuggly between his hand and dick helps him speed up, imagining hes simply pulled them to the side- sliding in and out of your swollen and oh so prettty cunt. he can almost hear the familiar sound of squelching and your smell, so good when aroused and cuming around him.

he cant seem to tether down one single scenario, but ultimately the memory of him trapping you under him, arms wrapped ‘round your body as he furiously jackhammers his hips up into your jolting body, held straight by only him is what does bokuto in. the dependency and trust you give him makes the big man nearly cry- cry like you do when he splits your pussy open.

hes too excited and high strung, big broad shoulders tipping forward, curling in on himself as he sees his muscled thighs jump. theres harsh swelling before he cums, hastily bringing your panties up and over the crown of his cock, covering his spurting slit. koutarou traps all the cum, sweating as even then its too much and begins seeping from the fabric and his fingers.

“g-god! shit- y/n!”

lust addled brain only knows you, only craves you while he keenly calls out. sucking in a breath while he releases his cock, letting it fall raw and used, slung against his thigh.

bokuto watches while he slowly opens his hand, the image of the pink panties covered in thick, white globs of his semen is one he will commit to memory.

but, there’s not enough time for koutarou to revel in the sight- ears perk up as the front door opens.

once again, with quick movements he makes his way to you, smiling at the wide eyed look you give him, taking in the red and clearly used cock hanging between his thick thighs.

“fuck- youre here... couldn’t wait... and now i need you.” is all bokuto says, wrapping strong arms around you- dumb rough and big fingers quickly stuffing your own soiled panties (still hot and sticky and wet) inside your mouth to silence any questions, letting you know like you couldn’t taste his cum slowly dribbling down onto your tongue- turning you around and tugging your bottoms down.

the memory of you and how you look right now, shaking in attempt to place your cute hands against the door- lips smeared in the mess of cum from your panties, sucking in a breath from your nose as he slides his soft cock inside- would and could never compare.

he wants to recreate the image that brought him to the end, the end which was slowly dribbling down your mouth because there was just that much, and with those strong brutish arms of his, he curls them around your body, furiously humping from behind- forcing his cock to harden inside your cunt, so warm and steadily creating that slick he loves so much.

“‘m sorry- came all over your panties-“ he moves an arm to tap a finger agaisnt your stuffed mout, touching the pink hanging out before returning his arm, “cause i wanted you... you want me too, right?” bokuto questions, knowing the answer as you push back, eagerly wanting more.

“but now i have you, nd i’m gunna stuff you like you deserve.”

this broke my heart 😭 can i please be added to the taglist? ty!! 💗

Chapter 3

sypnosis: you and your boyfriend, Bokuto had a fight the day before the training camp in Tokyo and it was all because of a girl carrying rumors that left the both of you in bad terms. Will the ace and the manager immediately resolve this issue, or will they keep it that way until for who knows when?

✦ genre: angst, fluff

✦ word count: 3.7k

✦ warnings: reader’s heartbreak

»»— masterlist | previous (ch.2) | next (ch. 3.5)

chapter 2…

Bokuto released a deep sigh, blaming himself for every stupid thing he’s done to you. “I fucking hate myself.” He holds his hips as he scrunched his eyebrows in distress. You would always laugh at his craziness and he’d even do it deliberately if it makes you happy. Out of each of them, this could be the stupidest and the saddest one yet.

“You reap what you sow.” Aiko stated and grabs her phone to check the time. “And you better get ready for tomorrow.”

That’s enough scolding for someone who already admits their fault.

He pouts, his eyes full of hope. “Is y/n-chan going to be there?”

“She’s not coming.”

DAY ONE: Training Camp

The night breaks into dawn. It was serene and the weather was perfect for the start of the training camp. People are snuggled into bed, still in slumber, and yet the volleyball clubs from different schools are already on their way to spend the week fortifying themselves.

Coach Yamiji speaks entirely of pure motivation to keep Fukurodani at their greatest forms. He had always encouraged them right before they showcase their willpower on the court.

However, the coach’s word doesn’t seem to be effective on the ace. All of them are steeled except for him. Bokuto stands beside his teammates, in a deep trance. He was unusually quiet for some reason, and it concerned the whole volleyball club.

Also, it was too early for him to be in his emo mode. Unless something or someone had provoked him to be that way.

But this wasn’t his typical emo mode either.

Keep reading

BokuAka my beloveds