Not A Request Either, But I Just Wanted You To Know That Your "Moan Someone Else's Name" Drabbles Is

Are there any good x reader authors out there, or is everyone still being sold as a sex slave to one direction?

“Can I sit on you(r face)?” (Haikyuu!! Fake Texts)

(Middle Blocker Version) Part 1

A/N: Suna, Tendou, and Kuroo all got daddy kinks🤷‍♀️I don’t make the rules. A knee ways, can someone explain why my fake texts are always so damn horny?? I think I have a problem... ehh whatever. These ones are longer cuz the damn ideas didn’t fit, but otherwise, enjoy!

Tsukishima, Lev, Hinata, Suna

"Red String if nothingness" has me in a bittersweet mood. Kenma is in love with someone else but you never know what the future holds? And maybe in the future the two of them would eventually find each other again, because at the end of that red string you'll always find each other and knowing my dumb ass (speaking from irl experience) even though it hurts if I love that person I'd wait for them even if it takes a long time. It's fine with me as long as he's happy (I'm dumb) even if it hurts me

🤯Spittin facts my dude😤 I’m glad ur seeing the bright side of it, cuz I just hate those angsty soulmate aus where they just dont end up together😔 at the end of the stories I’m always like “tf is this 💩??”

Hi. Do you have any idea when you will continue the reborn series?

Yep, a new part is coming out on Christmas!

Kuroo was probably looking at kenma like "My son...He grew up so fast"

Deadass dude😌 U already know Rooster Head is like

Betrayal (Garou x Reader) *Request*

*GIF not mine*

Request: Uh hi I don't know if I had already asked this but I was wondering if you could do Garou with a s/o who is Bang's granddaughter who knows the same level of martial arts that Bang does.

Summary: You were interested in Garou ever since he stepped foot into your grandfather’s dojo. But after he attacks the others and gets expelled, you have to try and forget every emotion that’s ever festered for him over the years.

A/N: Sorry, I went a little overboard. But I loved this idea so much, and thank you for the request! Dear God, I hope and pray this one posts. (Edit: GUH I dont know how to post thisssss) Anyways, hope you like it!

Word count: 3145

       You’ve watched him for years, and over that time you had grown to admire him. Grown to admire his ambition for power.

                             ***

      “Teach me how to fight!” the white-haired boy demanded. He was roughly your age, maybe a year older, but as you watched from behind the sliding door of your grandfather’s dojo, you couldn’t help but gasp at his words. Bang, however, only smiled.

      “Okay, you can train alongside my granddaughter in the back during classes. She can teach you many things, and help you when necessary.” You preened at his praise and stepped into view, only to flinch at the snarl the new boy threw you. Well he’s mean.

      The next day, whenever you commented on his amateur form, Garou would sneer at you and deny your words. After Bang had backed up your claims several times following this, however, the boy began to lower his walls, only slightly, but enough to trust you.

      Months after that, the two of you became great friends, and harbored elementary crushes on one another like most at that age would.

      “Rock, paper, scissors, shoot!” you both shouted, Garou squealing after you smack him on the head viciously.

      “That hurt, YN!” You giggle.

      “It’s supposed to!” He glares at you playfully before attempting to tackle you, only for you to kick him back harshly into the dojo walls mid-laugh. The crash causes everyone in the room to freeze and watch Garou wiggle himself out of the indent it had created.

      “YN!” Bang’s shout causes you to jump up and stand at attention. “What have I always taught you.”

      “Restrain and control are necessary for peace,” you recite like a prayer, keeping your eyes low in an attempt to ignore your grandfather’s disciplinary gaze.

      “Good, now go help Garou wash up. And apologize.” You nod hastily and grab your friend’s hand, leading him out of the room.

      “I’m not sorry, you know,” you smirk at him with mischievous eyes. The boy copies your expression with willing ease and chuckles.

      “Are you ever?” he asks, and you proudly shake your head in response. “Oh, YN, what would your grandpa think if he knew?”

      “Don’t be a snitch, Garou,” you scold, leading him into the bathroom and gesturing for him to give you his uniform to wash.

      “I would never betray you, YN. But seriously, you gotta teach me that kick one day, it’s super powerful!” He trembles with excitement while shimmying off his karategi and handing it to you.

      “I-I don’t know. My grandfather has been teaching me since birth, I wouldn’t know where to begin with you.”

      “Ugh,” Garou huffs irritably, “that old man has never been willing to show me anything more than the others. How do I-...” he trails off while staring at you, obviously plotting something.

      “I don’t like it when you think, Garou, it usually ends badly.” His lips slowly curl up into a sly grin.

      “YN,” he drags out your name with a pleading expression, “could you be the best girl in the world and ask your grandfather to help me get stronger?” You raise your brows at him and cross your arms.

      “Garou, you know we practice restraint here. It’s all about using our opponent’s strength against them, not always using our own.” His Adam's apple bobs before he nods his head frantically.

      “Yeah, that’s what I meant. I want to learn to get better at… you know, that stuff.” He was your best friend in the dojo, and you always had a soft spot for him. You suppose it wouldn’t hurt to ask Grandpa Bang to help him. Plus, his puppy dog eyes were killer.

      “Ugh, fine!” You wave your arms at him before dropping them at your side, giving in. “I’ll do it-”

      “Thanks YN, you’re the best!” Garou engulfs you in his arms and squeezes you tightly, choking the air right out of you. But he was so warm, and you couldn’t remember the last time someone had hugged you. So you didn’t resist his grip.

      “I am the best,” you grumble, and Garou laughs before holding you tighter.

                              ***

      Unconscious bodies of people you had known since you were a baby were scattered all over the dojo floor. Your friends. As you returned to the training room of the building, you gasped at the sight of them all, and whimpered at the figure standing in the center of it all.

      “You’re all so weak,” Garou kicked the body next to him away before observing the rest. “To think I ever had to train at the same level as you numbskulls.” He sneered cruelly at every single one of them, not minding to step on a few hands on his way to the exit.

      “I’ll never get stronger here, learning restraint and all that other bullshit.” He whipped open the doors before stopping at a small voice.

      “Garou,” you whispered, tears streaming down your face. At some point in the ten years that you had known him, he had changed drastically. He had grown mad with a hunger for power, and every spar session he had with the others became serious and bloody. It seems today he had finally snapped.

      “What have you done?” Your vision blurs as your cheeks dampen. Your whole body is trembling, not only with fear but with utter, complete betrayal.

      Garou doesn’t say a word. The lines on his forehead deepen and his eyes sadden, looking away to avoid your wounded gaze. In an instant, his form disappears out the door, and at the same time a presence arrives behind you.

      “He became corrupt,” your grandfather solemnly states behind you, setting a comforting hand on your shoulder. “He grew obsessed with gaining power, and now he is expelled from this dojo forever.” You blink rapidly to dry the wetness of your eyes, but your cheeks are still stained. How could he? You scrunch up your nose to hold back another flow of tears. Why did he have to do this? Your efforts fail.

      “I’m sorry, YN.” Bang has always been a strict grandfather. Never showing physical affection, always done through praise of your abilities and gentle smiles. So when he pulls you into a once-in-a-lifetime hug, you can’t help but break down into convulsing sobs in his arms.

      Why wasn’t I enough to stop him?

                              ***

      Power had always come easy to you. It flowed through your blood, literally. Your grandfather’s genes had influenced you to become a strong, capable person. But you didn’t care to nurture that power after what Garou had done. From that day forward, you took one section of Bang’s guidance and transformed it into a future job prospect. You wanted to be a teacher, but not in the dojo.

      However, you were still only in high school, so you held onto that dream and began a job as a babysitter.

      “Tareo!” You searched high and low for the child. Every inch of that playground had been scoured by you.

      Where is that little bastar- I mean, wonderful little biscuit.

      Using rude names in reference to others was a hard habit to break, but necessary for how often you found yourself around children. You had gotten it in your time around him, always hating on others and being distrustful of them. In the time that Garou had left your life, you realized how much of an effect he had on you in your younger years. He had been, after all, your only friend.

      “Tareo, where are you?!” you shouted, checking under the slide for the third time. You groan aloud when you come up empty, receiving weird stares from the rest of the park’s patrons.

      “I’m not a bad babysitter, I swear,” you laugh nervously to the crowd of parents and kids, “the boy is just a little rat-” you cough awkwardly, “I mean, fun child.” Smiling sarcastically, you walk past the families who jump out of your path dramatically and try not to flip them off.

      Maybe he was right. Humans are soft. Bunch of sissies can’t even agree out loud that kids are a pain in the-

      “...and this one shoots bullets using a slingshot!” Tareo! You finally found him!

      “Mmhm, interesting. Can I see the book?” A random man hanging around the child you’re supposed to be surveilling! Fucking wonderful!

      “Tareo!” you push through the bushes and try to ignore the fact that there was a sidewalk five feet away, dusting off the leaves your sweater had collected. “Where have you been, kid? I’ve been looking all over… for… you.” Your semi-pleased tone dies off when you notice the man next to him. Your whole body tenses, rearing for a fight while you clench your jaw angrily.

      “Aww, and we just got to the good part too!” He spoke, smiling pleasantly at you. On the other hand, his eyes held an emotion you didn’t care to identify in the moment. You were trembling under his gaze, not with terror, but with rage.

      “Tareo, we have to go right now,” you seethed, curling your hands into fists while you stood frozen in place.

      “Or you could join us, YN,” Garou suggested, relaxing a strong arm along the bench behind the child.

      “Tareo, now!” you ordered, practically erupting with fury. The kid only sighed.

      “Sorry, old man, I gotta go. See you next time!” Tareo cheered, hopping off the public seat and stepping in your direction.

      “Bye bye, twerp.” Garou smugly waved and you sneered at him, snatching Tareo’s hand and dragging him away. “Good to see you again, YN!” he called after you. This time, you didn’t hesitate to show him the bird, much to the horror of the parents around you. Gasps mingled with Garou’s chuckle in the distance, and you tried not to revel in the nostalgic sound.

                              ***

      Grocery store sales attracted you and your grandfather like a fly to a piece of crap. Sadly, Bang had to stay behind today to teach a class, but said you were free to go without him. Occasionally, you would help him train the younger students at the dojo, but you tried to avoid doing it for too long, not wanting to remember a damn thing about him.

      “Ooh, Genos look! Eggs are on sale for cheap!” You tried not to stare at the bald man and his cybernetic friend beside you while you grabbed your own carton and tossed it into your basket.

      “Excellent find, master.” Master? “Eggs also promote healthy hair growth.” Oof.

      “I didn’t say it was for my hair!” You snickered all the way to the checkout line, hoping the bald one hadn’t heard you. You were dreaming big, because when you had first heard the robotic blond’s comment, you had choked on your own spit.

      “Twenty-seven, thirty-five is your total.” The cashier smiled good-naturedly at you, but her empty eyes whispered “kill me.” Giving her an awkward, apologetic smile, you held up the cash, only for a hand to reach in front of your own and hand her a fifty.

      “I got it,” a deep voice sounded beside you. Son of a bitch! You glared over at Garou and gave him the most disdainful sneer you could manage. “And just my strawberry yogurt too.”

      He followed you out of the store, ignoring every dirty look you threw at him.

      “Not even gonna thank me for paying? Where have your manners gone, YN?” He shook his head and pursed his lips. All right, you could play along.

      “I thought you hated strawberry yogurt,” you monotonously say, itching to sucker-punch Garou every passing second.

      “Well, I did, but recently, it’s been uh… growing on me.” He gave you a sweet smile that almost stopped you in your tracks. Faltering, you return to your earlier pace and spot a dark alley up ahead. The sun was beginning to go down, so now was as good a time as ever.

      “Cool. I like it too.” You speak distractedly, waiting for the perfect moment.

      Garou sighs deeply. “I know, that’s why I started-” Now!

      Nobody was anywhere in the nearby vicinity, so you swiftly upper-cut Garou with enough force to knock him into the dead-end alley. Tossing your broken bag of groceries aside, you clash with him just as he returns to his feet, blocking your punch in the nick of time.

      “You son of a bitch!” you scream, delivering rapid kicks and punches wherever you can find an opening. “You evil bastard!” Blue mist begins to trail after every blow you deliver, and this encourages you to go faster.

      “YN-” he blocks a rather sudden jab to his face, only to receive a kick in the no-no square. He keels over and groans painfully. “Fuck,” he mutters breathlessly.

      You step back and gather enough momentum to deliver another roundhouse kick directly to the side of his head, watching as he goes flying into the brick wall of the side-alley.

      “Rot in hell, you dickhead!” Your voice cracks and your eyes water. You hadn’t realized you were crying the whole time until you felt your soaked, puffy cheeks.

      Garou, on the other hand, is twitching on the ground, fists digging into the asphalt to find enough support to rise once more, only to flop back on the ground like a dead fish.

      “I certainly don’t miss that move,” the white-haired male chuckles, turning his head to spit out a loogie of blood. He lets out a loud groan before rolling onto his back, breathing heavily and letting out a small laugh every few seconds.

      “Why did you do it?” you whisper, head ducked and staring at your shoes, “Why did you attack them?” Your words are shaky and unstable, much like your emotions in this instant.

      “I never wanted to hurt you, YN.” He lifts his head to observe you before dropping it back down once more, losing energy instantly.

      “Then why did you do it?!” you roar, eyes wide and watching him with pure, uncontrollable rage.

      “Because,” he laughs bitterly, spitting out more blood before making eye-contact with you. His pupils are dilated wildly, almost completely blocking out the beautiful yellow that was once there. “You had it. Bang had it. His old brother, that bastard had it too.” He comes up to his elbows, leaning on one to run a bloody hand through his hair. “The power.”

      “What are you talking about?” you beg, knees beginning to grow weak. God, you were worn out, not only from the fight but also from the conversation, both wreaking havoc on your emotional stamina.

      “Water Stream, Rock Smashing Fist,” he wheezes out through crushed teeth. “You can take anybody’s power and use it against them.”

      “Garou,” your voice trembles again, “you already have that. Why do you want more? What else is there?”

      “You don’t know your own limits, YN! I don’t know mine either. Because we don’t have any.” You scoff brokenly, shaking your head and backing away.

      “Garou,” you swallow around the lump in your throat, “your search is only gonna bite you in the ass one day.” With a bitter smile, you back away and leave the alley, not wanting to look at his bruised face for another second.

                              ***

      Only a month had passed since you had beaten the shit out of him, and a lot had changed in that time. Garou had tracked you down to your own house, begging, pleading for something you don’t even remember. Maybe he wanted forgiveness, or comfort, or help and healing.

      That night, you provided it all. And he hasn’t left your side since.

      “YN! You’re home!” you smile at the white-haired man jumping up from your couch and rushing to greet you with a warm hug.

      “Yep, and you’re still here. What a shame.” You jab at him playfully and he sticks his tongue out at you before licking the side of your cheek with it. The reaction is instant.

      “Gross, dude!” you push away his face and scrub your own frantically, “What are you, a dog?”

      “I followed you around like a lovesick puppy for most of my childhood, what did you expect?” He nuzzles his nose against yours, pulling you closer via your hips and brushing a strand of hair away from your face. Every touch he provides leaves a tingle you find pleasure in easily.

      “True,” you mumble, staring deeply into his eyes while he walks backwards, still holding you. You yelp as he falls back onto your couch, taking you with him. Giggling against his chest, you try to scramble out of his grip, but he squeezes the breath out of you to prevent an escape.

      “Don’t leave yet,” he whispers against your neck, “I want to cuddle you. I’ve missed you.” You sigh happily at the feeling and relax in his hold, slipping your legs around his own to straddle him before resting your head on his warm chest.

      “I was only gone for two days you know.”

      “I’ve been missing you for much longer than that.” You rest your chin on his chest and stare up at him while he looks down at you. Your arms reach up and into his hair, combing through the white strands gently while his eyes flutter closed.

      “I know,” you whisper. Your heart pains at the thought of losing him again, even after all the terrible things he has done. The truth was, however, that deep down he was still the boy who came into your grandfather’s dojo asking for revenge. He was still the boy who fell for you, and you were still the young girl who loved him at first sight. Even though he was kind of an asshole. “I missed you too,” you whisper hesitantly. Garou smiles with his eyes still closed, and he reaches down to brush his lips against your forehead tenderly. The soft caresses of his fingers up and down along your back contrast wonderfully with the firm muscles you’re lying on and running your hands over. Every divet of his begs to be memorized by you, so you listen in the silence of the room. One of Garou’s glowing, yellow eyes pop open, this time dilated from love rather than pain.

      “You’re not gonna become one of those annoying heroes, are you?” You laugh whole-heartedly and turn your ear down onto his chest, listening to the quick thumps of his heart.

      “I just might if I get to kick your ass again.”

Guppy Love (Todoroki x Reader)

*GIF not mine*

Summary: Fish don’t survive in coffee. You find that out the hard way.

A/N: My God, I love this one so much. Please enjoy!

Word count: 1486

        “Man, you are whipped for her!” Todoroki rolls his eyes at the statement. 

        “No, I’m not.”

        “You liar, you totally like YN!” Kaminari pokes his classmate’s arm obnoxiously. 

        “I don’t like her, so stop going around saying that,” Todoroki monotonously responded. 

        The class froze at the sound of a crash and a scream in the hallway. Suddenly, Mina bursts breathlessly into the room, her eyes wide with terror.

        “Yn fell in the hallway and-”

        Todoroki’s hand bursts into flames on his desk, leaving burns in the wood. 

        “Is she okay?!” He doesn’t wait for an answer before pushing past Mina and sprinting out into the hall. 

        “YN!”

        He finds you collapsed on your knees in the middle of the corridor with puffy eyes and red cheeks.

        “I dropped the fish tank.” You sniffle and shyly hold up a filled coffee cup with an orange creature floating ominously at the surface. “I don’t think Mr. Bubbles is gonna make it.” Your voice is tight with sadness as you stare ashamed into the overflowing cup. 

        “Yn, I’m so sorry.”

        “Can you make some water for him or something?” Your eyes glowed with hope as you stared up at him. 

        “I don’t think-”

        “Please?” Todoroki sighs and gives in, taking a seat next to you on the ground and cupping his hands. In the one, he creates ice, and then proceeds to use the other to melt it. 

        With his fingers clumped tightly together to form a makeshift bowl of water, Todoroki tries not to grimace at the slimy texture of the fish you plop into his hand. 

        Mr. Bubbles doesn’t move. 

        “Maybe he’s just sleeping,” you say hopefully, your eyes locked on the guppy. 

        “Maybe he’s dead.” Todoroki observes your face for a reaction, but you simply bite your lip with drying eyes. 

        “Maybe you’re right,” you mutter before groaning and dropping your face into your hands. Todoroki shifts uncomfortably and sneers at the dead fish floating in his grasp. 

        “What should we do?” you ask. Todoroki’s eyes trail to you before glancing at the nearby courtyard, then returning to your face once more. Catching his drift, you gasp dramatically. 

        “No, I am not leaving him for dead in the middle of the school yard!” 

        “He’s already dead.”

        “I don’t care!” After standing up, you help Todoroki to his feet and cross your arms indignantly. 

        “We should hold a funeral in the bathroom!” You smack your hands together as if you’ve just discovered the cure for cancer. “It’s genius! And tasteful!” 

        “Or we could leave some bird a generous meal in the school courtyard.” You give him a withering glare.

        “All those in favor of holding a memorial service for our beloved Mr. Bubbles, raise your hand.” You raise your hand at your own suggestion then ask, “All those opposed?” Todoroki narrows his eyes at you. Even if he tried to “oppose,” water and dead fish would spill everywhere. 

        “It seems we’ve come to a compromise.” You smile happily at him and clap excitedly. 

        “That was, in no way, a compromise.” The emotion of Todoroki’s face is emptier than a teenage boy’s search history, but you try to ignore how it still manages to make your heart race.

        “No matter! Follow me,” you announce, directing Todoroki to the nearest bathroom... it’s the women’s room.

        “YN no-“ you giddily shove him in with a little too much force and Mr. Bubbles goes on a once in a lifetime (or is it death time?) flight. You both watch in horror as he falls to the ground with a squelching “splat.”

        Nobody makes a sound, completely aghast at the crime scene. The bathroom is hauntingly silent except for the gentle buzzing of the fluorescent lights.

        “I’m not picking him up!” Todoroki mumbles and you shout at the same time, voices clashing noisily. Neither of you wanted to touch the corpse. Swiftly, you look over at your partner in crime and nod your head towards the fish once, twice, three times all the while he’s shaking his head.

        “No way, I already picked up that thing once. It’s your turn.”

        “Oh come on!”

        “Plus, you killed it.” You gasp offensively while he raises his brows. The staredown doesn’t last long and you eventually throw in the towel, pursing your lips and rolling your eyes. Shoes squeaking against the tile, you skulk your way over to the fish.

        “Fine.” Crouching low, you investigate Mr. Bubbles from multiple angles, trying to deduct the best method of transfer. 

        “He’s not just gonna flop himself in, you know.” You hurl a murderous look at Todoroki for the quip before reaching out with pinched fingers towards your flubby friend. 

        “God, this is a bloodbath,” you grimace before tentatively snagging a fin and holding back a gag at it’s slippery texture. 

        “Grossgrossgrossgrossgross,” you repeat all the way to the toilet, unceremoniously tossing Mr. Bubbles into the bowl like a sack of flour. “Oh my Godddd!” you choke out, darting over to the sink and almost slipping in the water puddle Todoroki left on the way. 

        While you clean your hands, your companion peers in at a floating Mr. Bubbles, blanching at the sight of the fish’s blank, bulging eye staring unblinkingly at him. He backs away slowly and you join him by his side, gulping nervously. 

        “Let’s get the party started, shall we?” you ask with a shaky smile. 

        “Sure” is Todoroki’s lame response. You scoff before clearing your throat.

        “Well, Mr. Bubbles, you lived a good, long life-”

        “About two weeks.”

        “And it’s a shame to see you go like this.”

        “Just to be clear, we know it wasn’t your fault-”

        “Zip it, Shouto!” You point a trembling finger at him threateningly and he raises his hands in surrender. 

        “Anyways, even though I tried my very best to save you-”

        “You scooped him into Aizawa’s coffee mug.”

        “It’s still a sad day to watch you go. We will always cherish the memories we shared with you-”

        “Yep, those two that we made. The one where we bought him for two bucks and the other where you overfed him and gave him fish diabetes-”

        “Do you know how it feels to be strangled? Because you’re about to find out.” Arms akimbo, you stare at Todoroki with fierce, wide eyes. He shrugs. “That’s what I thought,” you nodded. 

        As you ramble on to your beloved fish friend, Todoroki can’t help but zone out and think about the situation he has found himself in. For the first time in his life, he’s ditching a class in school, and it’s only to throw a funeral for an over-caffeinated guppy. With anyone else, he would have left twenty minutes ago, but right now he wanted to stay. You were here, and Todoroki never knew why, but he always felt drawn to your presence. He had only known you for two months, but something about you made him want to break down the walls he had built up over the years. You were different, and you valued every moment of life you had. He adored that about you.

        Geez, maybe he was whipped.

        The gentle beating in his chest soon rivaled that of a racing stampede of elephants when you scooted closer to him and rested your head on his shoulder. Your heart sped up too, but you didn’t care to mention it. Instead, you chose to release a shaky breath when his arm slowly encompassed your shoulders. 

        “Um,” you swallow, “did you want to say anything?” 

        Todoroki held in a snort. “No, I’m plenty good.” The room fell into silence once more, but the atmosphere wasn’t solemn for a dead fish funeral. It was tense and shy, filled with teenage anxiousness that only arose when two requited crushes were together in one room. Todoroki started to grow uncomfortable, though.

        “So are you gonna flush him or...?” he trails off.

        “Oh yeah.” You lick your lips nervously and step out of his warm embrace before pressing down the handle. “Goodbye Mr. Bubbles. We wish you well on your journey to the... I don’t know, water heavens or something.” You step away with a shrug back into Todoroki’s hold. All is peaceful, until....

        Clunk clunk.

        Oh crap.

        Both of you watch in horror as the toilet clogs, water rising higher and higher until it overflows, carrying the dead fish with it. Yours and Todoroki’s eyes follow the journey of Mr. Bubbles as he rides a wave all the way to the tips of your shoes, stopping perfectly to stare up at the two of you with vacant, enlarged pupils. 

        You sigh and smack your palm against your face. “I’ll go get the janitor.”

        “I told you we should’ve just hucked him.”

        “Shut it, Shouto.”

Cock Block (Bokuto x Reader)

*GIF not mine*

Summary: Bokuto just wants to get some, but the universe is not always on his side.

A/N: I’m kinda loving this one. I guess you could call this nsfw, but like, I don’t write what happens. It’s more like a build-up. Anyways, thank you guys once again for all the support recently, and I hope y’all enjoy this oneshot too! (Bokuto’s too hot to be kept sfw, everybody knows it.)

Word count: 1469

        The entire world seemed to be up against Bokuto’s libido. Certain times of the month, dishes, hell, even movies. Every time he wanted some, you were just a little preoccupied. 

       “Babe,” he breathes heavily against your neck before pressing a kiss there, “God, I missed you so much.”

       “Kou…”

       “I wish we never had to leave for games. Fuck,” he grumbles against you, pulling your body closer on the mattress. Although you don’t want to, you figure it’s better to warn him now than later. 

       “Koutarou- oh shit!” You whimper when he bites that special place just below your ear that drives you crazy. Albeit unwillingly, you place your hands on his broad shoulders and push him away. 

       “Kou!” He pulls back with a pained look in his eyes and your chest tightens at the sight. 

       “Are you okay? Did I hurt you?!” Even though you’re only two inches away, he’s practically shouting in your face. You flinch when a spit particle almost blinds you, and you slap a palm over his mouth to prevent this from happening again while you indignantly wipe away the previous offender. The small action pisses you off almost instantly, and you can only blame the hormones. 

       “I’m okay, you didn’t do anything wrong,” you reassure him with a forced smile. He nods with disbelieving eyes and you drop your hand. 

       “Then why-”

       “I’m on my period.” His face falls and he groans while tucking his head into your chest. Instinctively, you run your fingers through his hair while he whines like a child, gripping your shirt tightly.

       “You’ve gotta be kidding me!”

                               ~~~

       He hadn’t texted you back for three hours. It was a Saturday, and you knew for a fact that he didn’t have volleyball practice or anything else to take up his time, and yet he hadn’t responded to you for what felt like a millenia. Anger rolls off you in waves as you relax on your couch, watching TV and glancing at your dark phone every two seconds.

       The door creaks open behind you. “YN? Are you here?”

       “Yes,” you hiss with a sneer, eyes still locked on the dull movie. Bokuto doesn’t notice your tone as he struts over to you with a smirk. 

       “Do you wanna do anything fun tonight?” He waggles his eyebrows and you almost snort at his lack of wooing skills. If only you had known he sucked at flirting before you had first confessed your feelings to him. It would have been a lot less surprising to receive the text “Are you a volleyball? Because I’d love to call you mine” after your first date.

       “No.” Bokuto rolls over the back of the couch and lands directly on your form, heavy muscles and all. While you grunt in pain, he bounces excitedly on top of you and asks again.

       “Are you sure you don’t wanna do anything fun tonight?” He bonks his forehead against yours eagerly, causing you to blink in surprise. Every single one of his playful actions contrasts the heat swimming around in his golden eyes. You take a moment to rebuild your resistance before you respond.

       “Well, I did three hours ago, but now I’m not in the mood.” Your teeth gnash together when his face darkens with realization.

       “Oh crap.” 

       “Yeah.” With a glare, you worm your way out from under him and disappear into your room, slamming the door shut behind you. Maybe it was an overreaction, but you cut yourself a little slack. Your cramps were being a bitch, and you wanted nothing more than for your boyfriend to cuddle you a few hours ago. Now, here he was asking for the same thing as though you hadn’t said a word. So, was it an overreaction? Maybe, but you were allowed to be pissed in moments like these. 

       “YN, I’m so sorry! I totally forgot!”

“Mhm, sure.”

        His footsteps grow closer to your door and it opens just a crack. His black and white head peeks in and his pupils dart around before locating you seething on your bed. With a nervous quirk of his lips, he hesitantly mumbles, “Does this mean you’re still on your period?”

       You chuck a pillow at him.

                               ~~~

       It only took about thirty minutes for you two to make up, but every day since then, you just couldn’t find the time to… you know. One day, you were completely exhausted. Bokuto had come home from practice and jumped you, nuzzling against your face before the act grew more intimate. 

       “Can we do it?” His warm breath brushes across your chest while he stares up at you desperately. 

       “Yes,” you mumble with drooping eyes. Meanwhile, Bokuto grins against your skin. “Only if you take a shower first.” He gasps dramatically before taking a whiff of his pit. 

       “Oh, come on! It’s not that bad!” You shake your head and point to the hallway. Reluctantly, he scrambles off you with a pout and trudges towards the door, only for you to speak up with another request.

       “Could you do the dishes on your way? Thanks!” You disguise a yawn behind your hands while he whines dramatically, stomping into the kitchen and noisily clanging pots and pans together while he scrubs at them like they ruined his love life. 

       After taking the fastest shower in the West, Bokuto hurriedly dries off and sprints to the bedroom.

       “YN, I’M-” he freezes at the sight of you, completely knocked out and drooling from the corner of your mouth. “...ready.” A heavy sigh escapes the ace before he tiptoes over and smiles down at you. 

       “You should’ve told me you were tired,” he whispers lovingly, grabbing the edges of a blanket and draping it over your sleeping form. Slowly, he leans down and presses a small kiss to your cheek. “Sweet dreams, baby.”

                               ~~~

       Today was the day, and nothing would stop him.

       “YN!” The door slams closed behind him with a loud wham and he locks it haphazardly. “TODAY IS THE DAY WE- oh no! What’s wrong?” A line appeared between his brows as he took in the sight of you surrounded by tissues and sniffling on the sofa. 

       “He just,” your voice wobbles, “snapped his fingers and sacrificed himself for everybody.” You hug your knees closer to your chest and weep silently. For a moment, Bokuto stands star-struck, but your movements causes him to jump into action. In a split second, he grabs a tub of ice cream, a fresh box of tissues- you ran out- and your favorite soft blanket which he drops on top of you before clicking off the TV. 

       “It’s okay,” he murmurs softly, easily tugging you onto his lap. All you needed was a little love and comfort, and by God if he wasn’t willing to provide it for you. 

       After a few minutes, your tears begin to slow, and Bokuto decides to mess with you just a tad. “I love you three-thousand,” he mumbles teasingly into your shoulder. The words rile you up all over again.

       “SHUT UP!” you wail.

        ~~~

       Okay. Today was the day. Outside the apartment’s window, it rained so romantically it was like the clouds were rooting for him. The lights were off, so he lit a couple scented candles, those vanilla ones you like so much, and he even splayed rose petals over the bed sheets like in the cheesy love scenes. Nothing, nothing, was going to cockblock him tonight. When his ears perked at the jingle of keys outside the door, he knew it was go-time. Cologne, check. Freshly washed hair, check. No shirt, check. 

       “Hey Bokuto, I brought home…” you trailed off at the sight of your bare-chested boyfriend silently leering at you in the middle of the living room. Well, his methods of courting you have always been rather weird. Quickly, you close your jaw and let out a snicker.

       “Is tonight the night?” 

       “Yep.” You nod with an impressed smirk, questioningly sniffing the air.

       “Is that my…?”

       “Yep.” He takes a step closer to you and you set your groceries on the counter. 

       “All right, just let me-”

       “Nope.” You let out a squeak as he lifts you up and over his shoulder, smacking your ass for good measure. “Now or never.” He hauls you over to the bedroom and kicks open the door. Meanwhile you’re tracing distracting patterns on his toned, nude back before you let out a small huff.

       “Oh crap, wait, I forgot! Can I have a little rain check because-”

       “No.”

Love Me Through the Phone (Bokuto x Reader) (NSFW)

*GIF not mine*

Summary: After Bokuto leaves for an away game on Valentine’s Day weekend, you’re left to handle the day’s pleasures all on your own. There’s just one little problem--nothing comes close to what Bokuto could give you. Luckily, he offers a solution, and though it’s completely out of your wheelhouse, you find yourself desperate enough to give in.

Warnings: smut, phone sex, mutual/guided masturbation, dirty talk, slight praise kink, slight dumbification, edging (if you squint), (gentle) dom!Bokuto

A/N: Happy belated Valentine’s Day! Here’s a lil gift from me to u that I’ve had stuck on my mind for a while. Yes, yes, I know, I ain’t great at writing smut, so if someone else wrote this prompt w/ Best Boi Bokuto™ uhh… *cough cough* sendittomeplsnthx. Enjoy!

Word count: 2731

        “So… what are you wearing?”

        “Jesus Christ,” you break off into a laugh, picking up the phone. 

        “Nah, nah, c’mon, I’m serious. We gotta start somewhere.”

        Still shaking your head, you lean back on the bed once more, propped up on a few pillows but otherwise completely reclined. “Fine, fine, but anything else like that and I’m gonna have to leave you to your hand.”

        “I promise, now c’mon. Tell me.”

        “Seriously?”

        “One-hundred percent.”

        You purse your lips, debating a little. You can feel how much you want it--want him--and when you shift your hips, you can almost feel it soaking uncomfortably against your clothing. He’d texted you minutes ago with a proposition after learning of your predicament last night. 

        You’d wanted him so bad, but that alone wasn’t enough. Bokuto was off at an away game, and the distance--plus it being Valentine’s Day--only made things worse. You’d tried so hard, even trying to imagine his hand in your own’s place, even his tongue. It was just not enough. 

        Though, Bokuto didn’t seem to know how to handle the situation either. 

        “Fine, fine. I’m, uh, I’m wearing that little dress you like-”

        “Yeah?”

        “-and those silk panties you almost tore that one time.”

        “Really?”

        “Fuck no. It’s a Monday--I’m wearing sweats and a tank top, and I’m pretty sure there’s at least two rats making babies in my hair.”

        “Well at least someone’s getting some.”

        “Kou!”

        “Sorry, YN!” Bokuto whines, his voice crackling through the line. “But come on! Take this seriously.” He pauses, silence flooding your room.

        “Just… let me help you.”

        Your thighs subconsciously clench at the tone. It’s so familiar it’s like they’re preparing to be spread apart. 

        The place between your thighs is soaked by now, far more stirred than you’re letting on. The fact that your voice is still steady surprises even you at this point. 

        “You’re right, you’re right. I’m sorry.”

        “Don’t be, baby. Just lay back for me, will you?”

        “Okay.” Gnawing at your cheek, you make the choice to place Bokuto on speaker, setting him down just beside your shoulder so you can hear his every word. At this point, you’re on your back, head lain on a pillow and hands dancing along the strings of your sweats.

        “Comfy?”

        “Yeah.”

        “Good.” There’s a few shuffles over the phone, and when Bokuto’s voice returns he sounds a little out of breath, a little strained. “Good. Okay.”

        “Okay,” you nervously parrot, not really sure what else to do with yourself. Slowly, you’re beginning to gather that neither of you have done this before. Despite Bokuto sounding so confident earlier, he now seems reduced to the same anxious, aroused mess that you are. 

        “All right, now just…just follow my lead, okay?” 

        “Mhmm.”

        “I want you to go slow, no matter what I tell you. Don’t speed up until I say.” His orders, simply the thought of their implications, leave your fingers twitching closer to your arousal. The need to touch yourself was beginning to leave a yearning that ran rampant through your veins. A single spark filled your stomach with heat. 

        “Okay.”

        “Good,” he exhaled. “Now touch yourself.”

        You almost choked on your spit. “Wh-uh, I mean,” your gaze traced along the ceiling frantically, desperately trying to distract yourself from the burning in your cheeks. “Like, where?” 

        Your question had slipped out without a second thought, and when Bokuto chuckled, the flush spread to your chest. 

        “Maybe you’re right,” he pondered. “Let’s go slower than that.” A huff, then his voice returned, excited. “All right, I got it. Think of me, all right?”

        “Kou, I already tried that.”

        “I know, baby, I know. But now you can actually hear me, and you don’t have to imagine a thing. Leave it to me.”

        You were grateful he accepted your timid silence as approval. 

        “Okay, so… think of me touching you, right? Like I’m right there in front of you, baby, and I’m just running my hands all over you-”

        “Kou?” you cut him off, blindly picking at your fingernails. 

        “What’s up? You wanna stop?”

        “Can you touch yourself too?” And it’s when he falls silent that you realize how awkward that sounded. “Ah shit, I-I mean, like, I just kinda felt awkward doing it alone and like I felt like if you were doing it too I’d feel better about it and-”

        “God, YN, you thought I wasn’t doing that already?”

        “What?” 

        He scoffs, and shame begins to sour your anticipation. 

        “The second you said you were touching yourself to the thought of me, babe, I was at it. You seriously thought I was gonna sit here and just let you play with yourself while I’m over here just listening?”

        “I mean, a little…”

        “Shit, YN. I let you tie me up once and suddenly you think I like being blue-balled.”

        “Well…”

        “It was one time!”

        “Whatever, Kou! Can we just…get back to what we were doing?”

        “Fine, fine. But we’re discussing this later.”

        “Okay, okay. Just get on with it, will you? Please, Kou, I…” you pause, body once more growing aware of the situation between your legs. “I need your help.”

        “I know, babe.” Bokuto gulps, taking a second to relax himself once more. You’re busying yourself with fiddling with the bottom of your tank top now, tempted to just lift off the damned thing along with the rest of your clothes. 

        But you’re a little curious if Bokuto would mind that.

        “All right, sweetheart. Like I said, follow my lead.”

        You hum. 

        “I want you to imagine me there, right on top of you, baby. Think of how I’d push your shirt up, how I’d run my hands up your sides. Do that to yourself for me, will you, sweetheart?”

        You listen and copy his words, running your hands underneath the cotton hem and brushing your fingertips along your hips, just as Bokuto had done so many times. 

        Well, it wasn’t perfect. But his voice certainly helped. 

        “Go up higher, baby. I want you to hold those pretty tits of yours.

        “God, I can almost feel ‘em in my hands. So soft, always wanna keep my hands there. So fuckin’ pretty.”

        “Kou…” You do as he asks, but it’s not enough. You want more, now.

        “I know, I know. But remember, sweetheart, I said we’re taking things slow tonight.”

        “But-”

        “Now touch yourself. Imagine my hands playing with those cute little nipples of yours, baby. Make ‘em all tight and perky for me.” Hesitantly, you follow his lead. Your fingers draw circles, tug and caress like how you remember he would after long days. How his hands would yank off your shirt before palming and squeezing and stroking. Some days he was really mean, and your hips shifted at the thought of the dark marks he would leave scattered along your chest. 

        “Feel good?” His voice is breathless, and you’re a little uncertain of whether that means your soft moans had somehow passed through the phone line despite how much you’d suppressed them. Though, Bokuto did like you loud. 

        “So good,” you pant, hands still toying almost torturously. “But I want more, Kou, please.”

        “Fuck, baby, I ever tell you how cute you are when you beg?”

        “Kou…”

        “Fine, fine. But you know I’d play with your pretty tits longer than that. From now on, let’s go at my pace.”

        Fuck. You knew Bokuto had a pace, but when it came to nights like these, it was slower than you’d expect. Though most nights Bokuto jumped you and kept at it like a rabbit, there were just some days where he dragged things out, usually just to hear you beg for him. An ego boost, or whatever. Like he needed it. 

        “Slowly, sweetheart, bring your hands down to your thighs and spread ‘em, nice and gentle--you know how I’d peel ‘em apart.” He broke off into a grunt. “And t-then stroke the insides of your thighs, baby.”

        “Kou?”

        “What’s up?”

        “Do,” you clench your jaw, telling yourself to get over the embarrassment by now. “-Do you want me to take my clothes off?”

        “Fuck, you still have any on? Why?”

        “Oh.” You took that as a cue to tear off your tank top and sweatpants, a little ashamed by the eagerness with which you did it. That feeling only grew when you squirmed out of your panties, catching a glimpse of the glistening stain left on them. 

        An idea hit you, and though you knew it would only make you flush more, you wanted to hear his reaction.

        “Kou?”

        “Are they off?”

        “My panties are soaked.” 

        The reaction was instant. 

        “Jesus–fuck,” Bokuto hissed under his breath. You heard something akin to skin on skin as his cursing hitched, and a strangled groan filled your ears. 

        “Fucking tease,” he rasped when he finally seemed to stop himself from going too far. There was a tension in his voice that warned you he wanted revenge. “Put both hands on that wet little pussy, sweetheart. For that, I wanna hear it.”

        Finally. The second your dominant hand made contact with your swollen clit, your hips jerked up without volition. “Sh-it.”

        “Nu-uh, YN. Keep them there. Two inside, one on your clit. Nice and slow.”

        It was hard to keep a steady, controlled pace. Your hips kept bucking, your back kept arching, and the two fingers Bokuto had ordered deep inside you weren’t reaching that little spot he seemed to have memorized like the back of his hand. 

        The lone index finger you kept circling your clit wasn’t doing your sanity any favors. The muscles of your thighs began to tremble in sheer desire of some actual force, a little muscle behind the action. 

        “YN,” Bokuto’s tone was low, warning. The second you’d sped up your hands to meet your needs, Bokuto could hear your closed-mouth whimpers growing higher. 

        “Kou, please.”

        “Hands off, baby. Completely.”

        “Wha…” you opened your mouth in protest, reluctantly pulling two soaked fingers out of your weeping hole and forcing your hand away from your clit. 

        “I told you to listen, baby. And now that’s all you get to do.”

        “Kou, what-”

        “Ahh, shit.” You slam your mouth shut, biting your lip at the delicious moans echoing through the phone. “Fuck, so good.”

        Bokuto’s strained groans come quick and in between pants. You’re positive there’s a sheen of sweat covering his forehead now, his arm flexed and taut as he strokes himself. 

        “YN, baby. ‘F-Feels so good.”

        “Kou,” you plead, gaze a little unfocused as you listen to his moans while forcing your hands to stay at your sides. You feel yourself twitching, clenching around nothing. 

        “Fuck, wish I was inside you right now.” Throaty moans now filter through the crackling line, so loud you wonder if the neighboring apartment can hear--not that they shouldn’t be used to it by now. “You’re always so fucking tight, sweetheart. Always so wet and tight on my cock.”

        “Kou please, let me-”

        “Hold on. Just a little more, baby--fffuck. Know you wanna touch yourself. Spread your legs for me, but don’t touch.”

        You peel your knees apart once more, frustrated to no longer have any friction to work with. Your hips roll desperately, but it accomplishes nothing but making you more desperate. You can feel your arousal dripping down, now, soaking into the sheets. 

        “You remember before I left, sweetheart? Remember how I fucked your pretty little brains out? Never seen you like that before, so pretty and crying over how good my cock felt inside you.”

        “Yes, Kou, yes! Please, just let me-”

        “Said you couldn’t walk the next day. Said I fucked you so good you couldn’t feel your legs, baby. You feel ‘em now? All spread apart and just fucking shaking? If I fucked you right now, sweetheart, you think you could even think straight?”

        “No, Kou, fuck I need you so bad.” You threw an arm over your eyes, the other digging into the sheets as you waited and waited for permission. 

        “You only got your fingers, and you can’t even use ‘em. All you got is me, the thought of me fucking into you, turning your pretty little brain into mush. Making you feel so good all you can do is cry. Baby, I still got those scratch marks on my back.”

        “Kou-”

        “Just a few more days, sweetheart, and I’ll have you making new ones. For now though, I suppose I could let you play with yourself.”

        You almost cried out in relief, hands darting down to your aching, sopping hole, feeling as it drenched each fingertip with ease. 

        “Three fingers inside. I know you can take it. Pretend it’s me warming you up for my cock, baby, stretching you out and having you dripping all over my fucking hand.”

        He’s right, it is a stretch, and you almost whimper when you press your fingers up and against the little pleasure center deep inside you, fingertips just barely brushing. 

        “Your little clit hurts so good, doesn’t it, baby? You’re being so mean to it aren’t you, rubbing hard circles into it.”

        He pauses, breaking off into a drawn-out groan of your name. 

        “I don’t care. Go faster.”

        And you do, and he’s right, and you just can’t bring yourself to care as you press harsh patterns into your clit, struggling to pump your fingers at the same time without losing pace completely and frustrating yourself. 

        “That’s it. Say my name, baby. Scream my name while you play with yourself. Couldn’t do that by yourself, could you?”

        “Kou--fuck!” You clench your eyes shut, arching your back harder as you speed up your desperate ministrations. Heat gathers at your clit from the friction, and your slick is practically gushing now, loud and pornographic.

        Bokuto certainly got what he wished--there was no way he couldn’t hear how wet you were. 

        “You can only touch yourself with my help, can’t you? So fucking good to me, baby. So pretty playing with your tight little hole like that. Dirty little thing.”

        “God, fffuck,” you whimper, back arching when your gushing finally reaches its peak. 

        “You coming?”

        “Y-es!”

        “I wanna hear who made you feel this good. Who made you play with your own little pussy so good, baby?”

        “Kou! Yes, Kou!”

        “Good girl. Good fucking girl.” Bokuto moans one last time, loud and guttural, and the slick of your fingers brushing and kneading your clit becomes too much. Your legs, spread wide and strained, shake with the effort as your back arches against the pillows behind you, head tossed back and mouth open in a silent gasp. 

        Bokuto soothes you on your way down, small “I love yous” and “so good for mes” traveling over the line. When your body finally stops twitching, you lean over and snag your phone, turning it off speaker and pressing it to your ear. 

        “Thank you, Kou,” you hum softly, lethargic and exhausted. “That was so much better than last night’s shit show.”

        “I’m so relieved, baby.” He pauses, humming. “And glad to know you can’t seem to come without me.”

        “Yeah, well, good thing you’re coming back soon. This was good, but…” You sit up, staring at his side of the bed, a little unkempt from you rolling over to it in your sleep night after night. “I wish you were here.”

        “I know, baby. I wish you were with me too.”

        “It’s so lonely without you.”

        “I know. I miss you.”

        “Plus I finally found out where you hid those handcuffs after that night.”

        “Goddamnit, YN, just throw those fucking things out! I’m not getting blue-balled again!”

YN: DICK!

Dick Grayson: What do you want?!

YN: I JUST TOLD YOU!