i don’t think he would talk that much. as much as i wish he would he’s definitely big on making you feel good, but concentrating so much he doesn’t say a word.
also big on moaning, he doesn’t realize he’s doing it. you just make him feel so good he can’t help but slip out a couple whimpers.
ushijima:
holy him
he loses his mind at the thought of your pussy. it is his weakness. he tends to always be a little too rough. after care is his specialty.
he never really moans. it’s maybe more of a growl, or groan. not very talkative other than a “yeah..? you like that?” or maybe “are you okay?”
kuroo:
first.
also him
he is such a tease, but at the end of the day he loves making you feel good. he likes a bratty girl that loves to be tamed. if i’m being so honest he also loves public sex. i cannot lie.
also loves being vocal. it comes with all the teasing
atsumu:
him.
i’ve said it before and i’ll say it again. that man is a LOVERBOY and if he is in love with you. your getting the best treatment ever.
he’s vocal about how much he loves you, “yer so pretty baby..” he would moan.
osamu:
him.
i actually believe he is more of a tease then his brother. he loves fucking you hard. maybe in pubic too. like in the back of the onigiri restaurant. fuckkk that turns him on so bad.
bokuto:
him
his whole goal in life is to worship you and make you feel good at any cost. he loves telling you he loves you. he also loves looking at you while you are having sex. his dick gets hard at the thought of you. he also cums at the thought of you cumming. he’s just in love with you
tsukishima:
fuck him
he goes faint in the head at the thought of your pussy all spread for him to play with. definitely a tease, definitely more vocal. but at the same time he really does love you and he’s not evil.
he loves it when you cum on his fingers.
iwaizumi:
this guy fucks
he is sweet but also a little rougher. i don’t see him being completely vanilla. definitely into all the all smacks and spit. makes the air heavy if he spits in your mouth.
loves jealous sex, “which you like more huh? this dick or him..?”
oikawa:
this screams him.
a big switch, he loves your boobs no matter the size. i do think he’s definitely whiny in bed. talkative sometimes but it really depends.
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Bokuto, your big beefy hunk of a man, who has severe “big dog who thinks they’re a lapdog” syndrome.
The second he’s home, he’s flopping down on you like he’s light as a feather (he’s not).
Cuddle session? Oh you mean being smothered until you’re actually shoving a pouting Bo off of you because you literally cannot breathe but he’s just like “oh so you hate me and want me DEAD?” ?
Don’t forget the struggle of trying to free yourself when he’s napping on you, big body draped over yours (you eventually just give up)
He also, unironically, loves being little spoon. What can he say? He’s just a big teddy bear!
what do hq!captains gift their beloved manager? ⋆˚࿔
bokuto gifts you a gigantic plushie from the arcade. he had dragged akaashi to the nearest mall and tried his hardest the whole afternoon to win your favorite stuffed character from a stubborn claw machine. it's so big that everyone in the hallway ogles him as he proudly carries it to the gym. however, the beaming grin that appears on his face after he receives your sweet reaction rivals the plushie's already ginormous size.
kuroo gifts you matching gachapon rings. it's a little corny, and kenma prods at him by saying that it might even be a little possessive. but he argues and defends himself, saying that he spent all his 100 yen coins to get the matching set. in reality, he had been stuck on deciding on your gift all week, and the rings had been a last resort. he acts all cool when you both slip them on, but he almost melts into a puddle when you give him a fist bump, the matching heads of pukka and garu meeting in a kiss.
daichi gifts you a classic chocolate box. at first, he was afraid of appearing too forward, especially to one of his closest friends. but after a little pushing and prodding from suga and asahi, he finds it in himself to approach you after practice and gift you the heart-shaped box. he's a little more bashful than his usual, firm self, but you accept it anyways—loving how karasuno's strongest captain somehow grows weak in the knees at the sight of you.
kita gifts you a handmade bento. he knows all your favorite food by heart, as well as your tells. every detail is meticulously planned and executed, down to the hello kitty-shaped rice's ham ribbon and the sesame seed eyes of the mini octopus sausages. the miya twins and suna camp out behind the gym just to see him give it to you—though he couldn't care less. let it be known to all of inarizaki that their captain's eyes were set on one heart and one heart only!
ushijima gifts you a colorful package of vitamin supplements. it's for your health, he says. good for rainy days, he adds. in reality, it's cause he can't stand seeing you sick. without you to rely on for your trusty notes and quiet reassurance, how else could he excel on the court? at least, that's what he tells himself. meanwhile, his stoic affection for you is as clear as day to the rest of the shiratorizawa roster.
oikawa gifts you the cutest plush keychain. he took iwaizumi with him downtown and spent hours choosing between different variations and outfits of your favorite character. iwaizumi swears they spent an entire day in that store, but oikawa shuts him up to hand you the precious gift. he's all confident about it, but deep down, he's anxious and fears he might just die if he doesn't see it hanging from your backpack tomorrow morning.
— happy (early) valentines day! 💌 i've been writing a lot more recently, yay me! also i think it's worth noting that karasuno's manager in this hc is NOT kiyoko... i am tanakiyo's #1 fan
Sakusa never spoke much about his private life while at work. The team knew he had a partner, only because he mentioned it once, and they assumed whoever it was must be similar to him.
So they were shocked when he arrived at the New Year’s party holding hands with you. Your face was adorned with a bright smile and you waved eagerly the second you faced the rest of the attendees.
“This is my fiancé,” Sakusa said, using his free hand to gesture to you as if it wasn’t obvious who he was talking about.
“Hi!” you greeted cheerily.
“If anything happened to her, I would kill everyone in this room and then myself,” he added for no apparent reason other than seeing Atsumu, Bokuto and Hinata’s jaws drop at his unusual display of affection.
You chuckled as if this was completely normal. “It’s so nice to be here, I’ve heard a lot about you!”
“Now get back to the party, thank you.” After finishing his introduction, Sakusa swiped you away so you could both wash your hands in the bathroom.
when you leave it got me feeling like so depressed.
timeskip!MSBY!bokuto kōtarō x f!reader
being MSBY’s and bokuto’s beloved manager is easy until you get sick, and bokuto loses the light of his life.
entropy is a scientific concept, but in the msby black jackals’ gym, it looked exactly like a six-foot-two man slumped in the corner behind a stray ball cart.
the atmosphere was practically tectonic. usually, the gym vibrated with the sound of ‘HEY HEY HEY!’ and the thunderous percussion of spikes hitting the floor. today? it sounded like a funeral for a very loud bird.
bokuto was currently experiencing the psychological equivalent of a total solar eclipse. you weren’t there. for the first time in the history of his professional career, the spot three feet to the left of the bench—the spot where you usually stood with a clipboard and that specific, grounding smile—was vacant. empty. a void.
“he’s been there for twenty minutes,” atsumu whispered, gesturing toward the ball cart where bokuto was currently trying to make himself small, which is physically impossible for a man built like a greek god made of boulders. “he’s sulking.”
“it’s pathetic,” sakusa muttered, eyeing bokuto from a safe, ten-foot distance. “he thinks she’s dead. or worse, that she moved to brazil without telling him.”
bokuto was convinced the universe had finally decided to punish him for his ‘emo modes’ by taking away his north star. by the second day of your absence, the ‘thick cloud of sadness’ had evolved into a localized weather system. he hadn’t spiked a single ball into the court. he’d missed every serve. he spent most of the morning staring at his phone, waiting for a text that never came because your migraine was so aggressive that even the thought of a blue-light screen felt like an ice pick to the brain.
it wasn’t until sakusa—driven to the brink of insanity by the lack of structural integrity in the team—snapped and texted the coach.
sakusa: where is the manager? bokuto is currently trying to merge with the floor tiles.
coach foster: oh! right. she’s got a nasty flu. told her to take the week. forgot to mention it. my bad.
when sakusa relayed the news, the transformation was instantaneous. bokuto detonated.
“she’s sick?!” the roar echoed off the rafters. “she’s dying?! i have to go. omi-omi, i have to go right now.”
he didn’t wait for permission. he was a white-and-black blur, bolting out of the gym with the frantic energy of a man who had just realized he left the stove on—if the stove was the love of his life and currently suffering from a 40°C fever.
𓏵
the convenience store clerk had never seen a man move with such desperate, feral intent. bokuto was tossing things into a basket with the precision of a hawk: expensive honey-lemon tea, every flavor of jelly drink available, the softest tissues in the prefecture, and three different types of high-end porridge.
then came the pharmacy. he stood in the aisle, looking like a deer in headlights, staring at a wall of cold medicine as if it were a complex offensive formation. naturally, he called the only person who could tether him to reality.
“agaashiiii! if she has a headache but also a cough, do i get the blue box or the red box? does the red one taste bad? she likes peaches! is there a peach-flavored medicine for adults?!”
“bokuto, please breathe,” came the weary, yet fond voice over the speaker. “get the standard tablets. and don’t give her caffeine. also, did you buy flowers?”
“flowers. yes. strawberries too. she needs vitamins. i’m a genius, akaashi.”
𓏵
when the doorbell rang at 2:00 pm, you were currently a cocoon of blankets, feeling like your brain had been replaced by wet cement. your eyes were puffy, your nose was a shade of pink that would rival a sunset, and your hair looked like a bird’s nest that had survived a hurricane.
you shuffled to the door, peering through the peephole. all you saw was a giant bouquet of sunflowers and a mop of silver-and-black hair.
the moment you turned the deadbolt, the door flew open—not with force, but with a desperate kind of urgency.
“my favorite human!”
bokuto lunged. for a split second, you braced for the impact of a 190-pound professional athlete, but he slowed down at the last centimeter. he caught you in a hug that was as light as a feather, his large hands hovering over your back as if you were made of the finest, most fragile porcelain.
he pulled back, his golden eyes scanning your face with enough intensity to melt lead. “you look... you look...”
you winced, expecting him to say ‘terrible.’
“…absolutely stunning,” he breathed, his voice cracking. “even when you’re melting, you’re the prettiest thing i’ve ever seen. i thought you quit! i thought you hated me! i thought i did a spike so bad you decided to never look at me again!”
his knees actually buckled a little. he looked like a kicked puppy who had just been offered a steak. before you could even protest that you were contagious, his arms were under your knees and behind your back. he swept you up in a bridal carry so smooth it felt like you were floating.
𓏵
“bokuto, you’ll get sick,” you croaked, your voice sounding like a rusted gate.
“i have the immune system of a mountain lion!” he declared, marching toward your bedroom. “and even if i catch it, then we can be sick together. it’ll be a team bonding exercise!”
he settled you into bed with more care than he’d ever given a volleyball. then, the babbling started. it was as if two days of silenced thoughts were bursting out of him.
“the gym was so quiet,” he whispered, tucking the duvet around your chin. “i kept looking at the spot where you stand. i even sat there for a while, just hoping i’d catch your scent or something. everyone told me to stop being weird, but they don’t understand. i can’t function without hearing your voice telling me my form is slightly off. i missed your voice so much it felt like my ears were broken.”
he was peeling an orange for you, his large, calloused fingers working with surprising delicacy.
“i even tried to hide in that little gap between the equipment shed and the wall,” he admitted, looking genuinely ashamed. “like a lost dog. hinata tried to lure me out with buns, but i wasn’t hungry. how can i eat when my manager—my favorite person in the whole wide world—is suffering alone?”
he fed you the orange slices one by one. you were too tired to argue, and honestly, the way he was looking at you—like you were the center of his entire solar system—was doing more for your recovery than any pill could.
when you mentioned you needed to freshen up, he went into full bodyguard mode. he prepped the bathroom, steamed it up just right, and then insisted on waiting right outside the door.
“if you slip, just yell! i’m right here!”
when you emerged, damp and shaky, he was sitting on the floor with a literal blindfold tied over his eyes.
“bokuto... what are you doing?”
“akaashi said i have to be a gentleman! i’m not looking! but i’m here if you need balance!”
you laughed and he visibly brightened, his head whipping toward the sound of your voice. “that! i missed that! that’s the best sound in the league! forget the roar of the crowd, i want that on a loop!”
he spent the next twenty minutes drying your hair. he used the lowest heat setting, his fingers combing through your strands with a gentleness that made your heart do backflips. he was so focused, his tongue poking out slightly in concentration, ensuring he didn’t pull a single hair.
“there,” he whispered, kissing the top of your head once it was dry. “now, medicine time.”
he watched you swallow the tablets with an expression of pure, unadulterated adoration. it was the look of a man who was completely and utterly gone for you. he was at the bottom of the ocean, and he didn’t want air.
𓏵
by evening, the exhaustion of being a full-time nurse-slash-fanboy caught up to him. you were drifting off, the medicine finally kicking in, when you felt a weight settle on the side of your mattress.
bokuto was sitting on the floor, his head resting on the edge of the bed, his hand firmly but carefully clutching yours. he looked so small in the dim light, the usual bravado replaced by a quiet, desperate need for proximity.
you reached out, your fingers trembling slightly from the fever, and brushed a stray lock of silver hair away from his forehead.
“i like you too, kōtarō,” you whispered into the quiet room, leaning down to press a soft, lingering kiss to his brow. “so much.”
you fell asleep shortly after, missing the way his eyelashes fluttered and the way his entire body went rigid the moment your lips touched his skin.
𓏵
the next morning, the fever had broken. you woke up feeling lighter, the cement in your head having turned back into actual thoughts. however, there was a new weight—a very warm, very solid weight.
bokuto was in the bed. he wasn’t technically under the covers, but he was on top of them, his arms wrapped around you in a protective, suffocatingly sweet embrace. he was staring at you with wide, awake eyes. he looked like he hadn’t slept a wink, but he also looked like he’d just won the olympic gold.
“you’re awake!” he chirped, though his voice was uncharacteristically soft.
“i feel much better,” you smiled, trying to shift, but his grip only tightened.
“so...” he started, his lower lip trembling in a way that was almost tragically cute. “about last night. you said you liked me. and you kissed my head. and i’ve been thinking about it for six hours and twelve minutes.”
he sat up, pulling you with him so you were sitting in his lap, encased in his warmth. he looked at you with such yearning, such raw, pathetic hope, that your heart felt like it was going to burst.
“i already decided in my head that we’re dating,” he whispered, his face inches from yours. “i already told the group chat we’re ‘engaged in spirit.’ but... i should probably ask the official way, right?”
he took a deep breath, his golden eyes shimmering with a mixture of devotion and sheer desperation. “would you let me be your boyfriend? i’ll take care of you every day. i’ll spike every ball for you. i’ll even let you have the last bite of my meat buns. please?”
you didn’t even have time to get the ‘yes’ out before his face transformed. when you nodded, he looked completely discombobulated, his brain short-circuiting at the sheer joy of it.
“really?! yes?! hey hey hey!”
he peppered every single inch of your face with tiny, frantic kisses. your forehead, your cheeks, your nose, your chin—he was like a heat-seeking missile of affection.
“i’m gonna be the best boyfriend ever,” he promised, burying his face in the crook of your neck, his tail-wagging energy practically shaking the bed. “i’m never letting you get sick again. i’m banning germs. i’m fighting the flu with my bare hands!”
as he pulled you back down into the pillows, refusing to let go for even a second, you realized that being managed by bokuto was going to be a lot more intense than managing him—and you wouldn’t have it any other way.
n: i love it when men are pathetically in love. yk? y’all get me? right? RIGHT??
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BOKUTO very much has a size kink. upon returning home after a match, he loves some victory sex—he’s wired up and just so badly wanting to sink his cock inside you. and truly, no matter how much it may sting in the moment (though he does like it), there’s nothing better than seeing the marks of your nails down his back the following morning.
when he finally gets you in bed, you—with your plush thighs spread and quivering—look up at him beneath your eyelashes as he pulls down his boxers.
fuck, he’s always so big.
“kou, please,” you whimper as he moves to hover over you, and his beefy body completely covers yours. he’s just so strong.
leaking with an angry red tip, his aching cock rests against your navel, positioned right on your belly where you can see just how deep it goes.
“kou—”
“i know, baby.” he lifts your legs to drape over his arms, noticing the slight bulge of his biceps as he holds them up. he grips his length to tease it against your clit, watching your hips buck up against it. oh fuck, he loves seeing you like this—makes him even harder, actually, as another little pearl of his arousal dribbles down his shaft.
sliding in, he’s slow and steady. he’s surprisingly patient with you, but that’s always because—
you whine, gasping out, “kou, too much!! can’t fit—”
oh, and bokuto loves a good competition.
“shhhh, pretty,” he whispers, wiping a little tear from your cheek, “breathe for me. it’ll fit—it always does.”
"Nah, Nah, I don't have a type. If a girl is gorgeous, she's gorgeous!"
"Seriously, Bokuto? You must have a type, everyone has a type!" The man chatted with Bokuto, the two had become friends, working out at the same gym.
Bokuto leaned against a machine, taking a sip of water. "Nope, not at all" He beamed, seemingly proud of his wide variety of attraction.
"But, you're like... a gym rat, right?"
Bokuto shrugged, "I guess so.. I do work out a lot..." He rubbed his chin with his index finger and thumb, thinking about the question and mumbling the end.
"Well, I bet you like chubby girls. Gym rats always like chubby girls"
Bokuto scoffed, "That's a stereotype! I appreciate all body types."
"That's short for, "I love chubby women" right?"
"Yeah, yeah- Whatever, man! Go finish your set!" He shook his head, grabbing his water bottle and walking towards the weight racks near the front of the gym.
As he picked up two 75lbs dumbbells, he heard the door open. Looking up, he saw.. you.
His mouth slowly hung open, looking you up and down. You were wearing a pair of leggings that showed off your figure quite nicely, and a hoodie. You weren't small, that's for sure.
He shook his head, looking away when he felt a hand on his shoulder.
