..thinking about timeskip Bokuto

includes. fluff, angst, hurt with no comfort, established relationship. not proofread. gn! reader. reader is loud/talkative

notes. omg i’m alive?? jk, i’m just slowly posting some of the ficlets i wrote during my hiatus to free up my drafts + SAKUSA BRAINROT IS REAL + i’ll be more active soon!

In the corner of Sakusa Kiyoomi’s carefully pieced world, he heard a sound.

At first, it was nothing but a sweet, tender laughter let out through a vibrating chest as you doubled over on your desk, your chortles barely muted even with the palm covering your mouth. 

He didn’t think too much of it. 

He had no reason to, not when you’re just one of the thousands of people he passes by and never sees again, at least not until he hears more and more of that sound that soon becomes your voice.

hanamaki takahiro x f!reader warnings: a lotta retching, angst, pov switches, 6.2k, unrequited love (!!) i took my liberties w the hanahaki technicalities so bear w me summary: (hanahaki au) hanamaki takahiro sets out on a quest to make oikawa tooru fall in love with you — with unforeseen consequences.

As fate would have it, Hanamaki Takahiro chances on you the one day you don’t make it to the restroom.

You’re a pitiful sight — dry retching in the middle of an empty hallway, eyes burning as your throat fills to the brim with fragile flowers. A part of you expects him to call for help, for the nurse, for anything, and have this awful secret exposed to the rest of the world.

Instead, he just looks at you, head tilted like you’re some kind of curious street artist, and he’s trying to decide whether or not to throw a couple of pennies into your cup. 

“Are you alright?”

Love Galore

pairing: kuroo tetsuro x f!reader x bokuto kotaro

chapter summary: Bokuto Kotaro is the devil, he’s sure of it

wc: 3.8k+

warning; language, alcohol consumption, mentions of throwing up, slightly toxic behavior

Masterlist

CHAPTER 13 ✧WHISKEY

Everything hurts.

His head was pulsing so hard against the walls of his skull, threatening to split open so his brain could jump out of its cage and be free from the mistakes he’s made. The pounding of blood against his earlobes was the only thing he could hear, every thunderous beat churning the nausea deep in his gut. He could feel the burning acid of bile build up at the base of his throat, and it took everything in him to push it back down.

His eyes stung from the sticky liquid still dripping down from the ends of his hair, each blink setting the burn deeper into his cornea. He could hardly see past the mob of blurry faces that came to watch him make a fool of himself, ignoring the incredulous gasps and scoffs from his audience as he shoved his way through the crowd.

The panic was slowly creeping its way into his lungs, chest tightening with every second that passed. His control was completely wrenched from his grasp, unable to regulate his own breathing, the oxygen never reaching deep enough to provide him any comfort. The gravity of what he had just done began to crash down onto his shoulders, and his knees shook as he resisted the weight of his consequences itching to drag him down to rock bottom. But he didn’t have the time for that right now.

His mind was clear, kicked into gear the moment he heard Akaashi’s voice, and he was aware of what it was he needed to do. Except, the shards of the mask he had been clutching on to was now littered across the ground of your feet, and the doubt hiding behind its barricade swallowed Bokuto completely whole. Each decision he’s made felt like a turn in the wrong direction, and the accumulation of his actions had never been thrown back to his face harder than this.

Was he doing the right thing, chasing after Hikari after humiliating her in front of nearly everyone she knew? Would she even want to see him, would she bother giving him the time of day? He doesn’t deserve it, he knows. So even if she did, what would he say? What could he say? What right does he have to comfort her now, when she was crying because of him?

He didn’t know — he had no idea, but even so, he trampled across this house like an animal out of its cage in search of the victim of his indecisions. His mind was on a mission, but apparently his body was still recovering from the bottles of liquor he had been guzzling down all night. He could feel his limbs being clumsy, feel himself bump into corners and crash into furniture, and he couldn’t even tell how many “Are you alright, Bokuto?”s he knocked away with his elbows, but he didn’t really care.

He was a mess. Everything was a mess. But he needed to find Hikari.

Yeah sex is cool, but…

Kuroo picks you up at any chance he gets to prove that he’s not lost his strength.

He’s hardly in the door before he’s dropped his bag and taken your legs from under you, throwing you easily up and onto his shoulder. You squeal as your feet leave the floor, helpless to stop the giggle that leaves you lips when he brings a broad palm down on the curve of your ass.

Despite his volleyball days being behind him and his new office job encouraging a gentle covering over abs that had once been rippling and taught, he’s never really looked out of shape. His biceps still push against the thin material of his dress shirt, his thighs straining the navy of his suit pants as he effortlessly tears around the apartment with you draped over him like a coat.

He parades you around the living room, does two laps of the coffee table with perfect ease and answers your wriggling and faux-protests with increasingly hard slaps to the back of your thighs. You grope at his back, track your fingers down the crevices of muscle that twist as he works to balance your weight on top of him. He shifts you then, lifts you from his shoulder and lets you slip down until you’re cradled in his arms. There’s something close to adoration in his eyes when his mouth cracks into a smile and you resume your groping on his chest, but he won’t put you down until he’s proven his point.

No matter what, he swears he’ll always be strong enough to sweep you off of your feet.