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daebraeksan · 2 years

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Regret about high school life, Bokuto comforts

Genre: comfort, high school to college, friendship,

Contents: mentioned but not described past history of self harm, regret, anxiety, rumination, fear of abandonment, social anxiety, limiting beliefs, facets of american high school to college experience which may not apply to all people (living somewhere then going somewhere far away for college/leaving communities and social circles), prom, dances, homecoming), feeling “fucked up” and feeling like a bad role model to children, self deprecating, feeling like “garbage”, feeling undeserving of unconditional love (aka missing the point/misunderstanding the concept of unconditional love), crying, self critical, feeling incapable of love,

a/n: Bokuto hangs out in reader’s room/in bed with reader. This is fanfiction so just pretend that your controlling parents think Bokuto is perfect and completely love respect and trust him (more than they love respect and trust you even) so they really let him do whatever he wants and have no qualms about him at all. Or pretend your parents aren’t there at all. Whatever works in the fiction for the reader.

Also the word faith mentioned nonreligiously

Wc: 5432 (i’m not joking)

~*~*~*~

The clock ticks as you wait for the school day to end. Since the days are numbered, there is reason to savor each and every one—collecting every moment, stuffing them into a vial, concocting and distilling the essence of this specific time in your life that you will never be able to return to.

You could also savor the feeling of waiting for the school day to end. Although that specific feeling is not going to be as rare, since a similar feeling could arise in university or work, but somehow, that is really depressing to think about.

You need to find something to be nostalgic for, something to miss. There can’t be any possible way that you are fine or neutral as you are now. There must be something to fix, something you can be doing better.

After school, you are looking forward to something very exciting: hanging out with Bokuto.

No one would have ever expected that situation to come out of left field.

There are a lot of things you won’t miss about high school. You were really stressed about grades, socializing, outcomes, and reaching the finish line. And there are some things that you were sure you wouldn't care about because they were the backdrop of your daily life. Repetition can emulate a sense of safety, but you were sure that couldn't apply to school. You never thought you would have positive associations with the tile under your feet, the painted cement brick walls, “your” table in the cafeteria, the mess in your locker, the writing on your desk by previous students. You never thought you would be attached to those memories.

“Memories” has such a strong connotation, whether it's fond or unsavory. You never thought you could feel nostalgic about seemingly neutral observations about high school. You didn’t have to “remember” those truths because you saw them every day. You didn’t have room in your brain to remember the weird smell in the back hallway, the unkempt grass near the creek at the base of the hill behind the school, the flickering light in the bathroom by the gym, and the ever changing flowers on display in the front window of the library. You were too busy cramming for exams and trying to please people. You didn't have time to remember all those things.

The daily things you’ve grown so accustomed to might be the things you miss most, when you are having a hard time in a new place. No matter how many bad experiences you had in this building, you couldn't erase the good times—and you don’t want to forget them. At least you went there every day. Consistency feels “safe”, even if what actually happened every single day sucked.

Your favorite thing about high school was hanging out with your friends, but many of your relationships took a turn towards the end of the year. So all the previously sweet memories have a lot of pain attached to them now. Maybe you would be able to remember the good times without feeling this pain later on. But for now, the bitterness and confusion of feeling abandoned is too much to bear.

One of the few good things about school left is Bokuto.

You plan to wait for Bokuto outside the school, but he’s already at your locker. How did he get there so fast? You have to stop questioning these things because you are not into shenanigans like that. You’ll never know.

You walk out the building together and head over to Bokuto’s house.

It’s just another day with a light blue sky and sparse fluffy clouds. As if it was any other day. As if once this day is over, it can never come back.

“I can’t believe we only have a few weeks,” Bokuto says.

“You say this every day,” you say.

“It’s true every day.”

“It is.”

“What’s the point of the last few weeks of school anyway,” Bokuto says. “We aren’t even doing anything. We already know what we are going to do.”

“It’s so stupid,” you agree.

But if we didn’t have to go to the last few weeks, then the last few weeks of school would be even earlier. There’s no escaping the end. It’s going to happen now or later. Or sooner, apparently.

Bokuto tells you about some random stuff about his day and you wonder how people are having interesting things happen to them every day. You try to come up with some stuff that happened to you today and he listens like it’s interesting but you’re sure he's just being polite since he's your friend now. No stranger would want to listen to what you had to say.

You need to figure this out soon. You’ll never make new friends at this rate.

But for now you can enjoy Bokuto’s time, attention, and company, and not overthink* what you’re saying.

*You’ll overthink it, but at least you’re saying something! That’s progress!

~*~ ~*~ ~*~

The end of senior year of high school is approaching, and regret presses heavy against your chest, filling your lungs with tar, mistakes from your childhood fossilizing into “your story”. You go down there with the intent of excavating them (learning from them? Rectifying them?), but instead, you just roll around in them, frozen beside them. They will never leave. You can never let them go. It’s part of your story, and who you are, and you can't ever change it.

That is awful.

The end of an era trickles into existence moment by moment, painfully slow, and too fast at the same time. You don’t want to be an adult. Yet at the same time, you want freedom and you want to try something new. You don’t know what kinds of freedoms to expect. There are a lot of other aspects that aren’t so “free” about adult life. Supposed “freedom” can be a burden in this society which sucks.

There are a lot of experiences and opportunities from childhood you aren’t ready to let go of yet. It’s scary to not have a safety net.

The insidious thought of wishing you could have a redo coils around you, thorned stems wrapping and tightening and pressing at the bruises, drawing blood. You can’t have a redo. That’s not how life works. “Time” marches forward. You know this fact, so you wish it was simple to let go of this wish. What would you have wanted to do differently?

You wished you had talked to more people. You wished you had more friends. You wished you had more “high school experiences” like dating and parties and friend groups and doing fun activities together.

But you didn’t, so maybe you couldn't have. Even if you got a redo, other things would have had to be different too, if you were to be able to achieve the outcomes you wanted.

You wished you could have believed in yourself more or had more practice. You wish you didn't put so much pressure on yourself to make every interaction into something positive, into something that could evolve into a friendship. You wish you didn't put so much pressure on yourself to control the outcome. The outcome is not up to you. You can try to influence it, but you can’t guarantee it.

If you had put more effort into getting closer to the people you wanted to, maybe it would have worked. It didn’t work in some cases. But maybe you weren’t going about it the right way. Was there any way to be included into a friend group? Or would they have thought you were annoying for trying, and rejected you soundly? You don’t really know.

But there are some people who you think getting closer to them might have actually worked if you tried sooner.

But of course who’s to say what all the factors were that made it happen in this way. Maybe this was the way it was “supposed” to happen. It just sucks to have a friend you are excited to have only for a few more months.

All the factors that coalesced into Bokuto being a friend that you want to get close to were a mystery. You really don’t know how in that moment, you suddenly felt brave to approach someone—someone like Bokuto, no less. Life doesn’t hand you friends easily. You have to take them. You have to make them yourself.

So you know it wasn’t an accident.

It might have been luck but it’s no accident.

You miss all the time that you could have been friends with Bokuto earlier, but weren’t. You’ve missed out on things, and there’s nothing you can do about that now. You can only try to experience joy in the present moment.

You don’t want to feel the full pain of missing out. You wish you could just get over it. It’s already over. Why are you still clinging to this? Adults don’t get to go to awkward middle school dances or prom or homecoming games (as a student.) So what? Why does this have to matter to you still? You wish it didn't matter.

There’s going to be some things you can never access ever again, once you leave this building. It is scary to not have your needs met. It is scary to not know where your needs are going to be met in the future.

It’s your final year of high school, and things are going to be different.

You would be more excited for things to be new and different if you could guarantee it would be better. You don’t want to be naive. You don’t want to assume that you’re going to be a new person just because you’re in a different geographical location or a different arbitrary distinction in your life. There’s not that much difference between seventeen and eighteen and eighteen and nineteen. You don’t want to be the exact same person when you’re thirty. You want to work on your issues and become a different person. But you don’t see how you can magically become a different person without actually trying.

It’s scary.

You think you can fake being a different person but it’s hard. It’s really hard faking not being scared and acting as if you don’t hate yourself or undermine yourself. You don't even know what a person like that would act like, you don't even know what to emulate.

Actually. You have a lot of examples around you, actually. But if it were that easy ….

Well.

~*~ ~*~ ~*~

Bokuto isn’t hanging out with you after school today because he is hanging out with his volleyball friends. So you have more than enough time to ruminate and be sad.

What you’re not expecting is Bokuto texting you later after dinnertime, asking to hang out.

Well. You’re not entirely opposed. You suppose you can change tracks pretty quickly. Bokuto has that skill after all—making everything seem like it’s going to be okay. At least for a little while.

But you’re not actually up for anything other than lying down, and doing and perceiving as little as possible, so.

Hopefully he can adjust to that.

You text him that and he asks you if you’d rather be alone/sleep early. You tell him that he knows you’re not going to sleep.

So he comes over.

He bursts through your door like a cyclone and presents himself with a flourish and a cracked grin on his face.

You smile tiredly at him.

He closes the door and gets into bed with you.

You’ve always appreciated his audacity. There’s so many social rules that you are afraid of breaking, afraid of being seen as weird or rude. But Bokuto just asks for what he wants. He didn’t wait for “a long enough time” to pass in your friendship before he asked if you were comfortable inviting him over to your house, or if you would prefer to hang out somewhere else. Same for hanging out in your room, and in your bed. He wants you to be comfortable and convenienced, and he doesn’t want to impose on you.

He also asks what you want, too. Being his friend forces you to have to acknowledge that you want things to, and you don’t have to go along with things for someone else's benefit.

“How was your day?” he asks.

You hum vaguely in response.

“That bad?” Bokuto asks.

“Yeah.”

“Is there anything I can do to help?”

You sigh. “I wish you could,” you say. And it’s a little too real to be a lighthearted joke. You never know when your dark self deprecating humor is going to be too much for you. You always assume you can handle it. You’re doing it to yourself. You know what you’re going to say. How could you accidentally hurt yourself?

But if you go door to door, asking for the devil, eventually you will find him.

And when you try to find your limit, when you try to see how far you can go and what you can get away with, eventually you will hurt your own feelings.

Just because you’re always hurting your own feelings and ignoring your reactions, doesn't mean your reaction isn’t going to one day spill over.

It’s a losing battle. You’re clowning yourself.

“I might be able to!” he says, still joking.

You don’t reply and he nudges you.

“What’s going on?” he asks.

“The same old,” you say vaguely.

“Which one?” he asks (genuinely, and not at all sarcastically, which is crazy to you.)

You look at him, unimpressed, (but actually impressed) that he can lovingly and gently say something that would from anyone else be a roast (even if it is a gentle roast). He genuinely wants to be there for you through multiple of the same problems you have over and over.

You really cannot comprehend this.

“Just, like, sad. About social stuff.”

“Like what? Like me going to hang out with the team today?” Bokuto asks.

You don’t like that he is blaming yourself. Is he trying to give you an easy way out? You aren’t going to scapegoat him. You can’t.

“Kind of related to that, but about more stuff, too.”

“Like what?”

You tell him all the stories about how you’ll always be unhappy no matter what, and you're going to get the same results over and over, and you can’t change and what’s the point of trying.

You don’t get very far in your story before he interrupts you to ask, “can I hug you? Or hold your hand?”

Even though this is a normal occurrence with Bokuto since he is such a tactile person, you are still surprised every time. You are not used to asking for physical touch, so you often don't notice when having physical touch would be a gentle, soothing, and positive addition to an experience.

“I—sure. Okay.”

He hugs you and then holds your hand in between your bodies. “Okay. Keep telling your story.”

This endless unconditional support is irksome. You can’t fathom the depths of his patience. When is it going to end? You thought you were going to hit the limit long ago.

You take a break from your story to breathe. You almost don't even know what you’re saying. It’s such an old and well worn story and he’s heard bits and pieces of all of it but maybe not all of it at once and so messily.

You blink at him. He stares at you through the silence.

When you don’t continue, he asks you, “can I ask a question?”

“Sure.”

“Do you want me to respond now or later? Or listen and not respond?”

“It doesn’t matter. Whatever you want.”

“Noo!” he protests gently. “What do you want? What would be helpful to you?”

You sigh. “What do you think I need?”

“That is not answering the question,” he says. “And it’s an irrelevant question.”

“Wlel, you’re my friend who loves me and wants the best for me, right?” you ask.

“Yes,” he says, immediately and with certainty.

“So, with those credentials, what do you want for me?”

“I mean. I don’t want you to be sad,” he says. “But I know that being sad is a part of life, so you can’t ever not be sad ever again. But I wish I could support you and make this sadness easier to get through.”

“Yeah.”

“And also I wish you could see yourself like how I see you. And also be gentler to yourself.”

“Hm.” That’s neve happening, but you don’t want to disappoint him or make him sad. And you don’t want him to think that his efforts are worthwhile (even though they might be.) You don't want him to leave because he realized his efforts are going to be fruitless.

“Thank you for listening,” you say.

“I am always here for you,” he says.

Even that assertion hurts. It’s not true. It’s wishful thinking. Nothing in life is certain.

“But I do have responses,” he says. “I don’t want you to think I condone what you are saying. But only if you feel like hearing them.”

You nod.

“It’s okay?” he asks.

“Yes, you can tell me,” you say.

“I wish you could see that the rumination is hurting you,” he says.

“So what?” you want to say. But that’s really aggressive. You try to tone it down. “I’m already hurt no matter whether I ruminate or not. I can’t change the past.”

Okay, maybe that’s not super toned down, but you are hurt and frustrated. And unable to overcome. So.

He pats your head, in a slow smoothing motion from top to above your neck. “Can you forgive that it happened?”

You don’t reply. A lot is going on in your brain and you don’t think you can let any of it out. All your instincts are defensive, and one branch of thought says that Bokuto doesn't know what he’s talking about and he doesn't know what you went through and he went through as far as you can tell the exact opposite of what you went through so of course he would have a forgiving l attitude because nothing bad happened to him like how it did to you. That’s unfair because everyone has been through something or another and you don’t want to invalidate him ever but definitely not while he’s helping you. You don't want to bite the hand that feeds you or whatever.

So you forgo that line of reasoning. Second, how can you forgive and forget this? If this is your destiny, you don’t ever want to forget it. You don’t want the sting of disappointment to hurt more than the isolation ever would.

You don’t know which hurts the most.

“It’s okay if you can’t forgive it right now,” he says. “But I hope you can in the future. I hope you believe it’s possible. I don’t want you to hurt yourself more.”

“I can’t help it.”

“Ironically possible?”

You crinkle your nose in distaste. Self care ironically. You don’t know how you feel about that.

“You deserve kindness and gentleness and happiness.”

You can’t say “the world hasn’t ever given that to me.” Well, you could say that. But how can you say that right to the face of someone who is trying their absolute hardest to show you gentleness and kindness.

You wonder if you could ironically deserve kindness and gentleness and happiness.

Hm. Still no.

He sighs.

You wonder if he’s ready to leave.

“You’re doing a good job,” he says.

“No,” you say.

“Yes!”

“When have I ever done a good job?”

“Right now! And plenty of times before.”

“No.”

“You don’t have to paint everything with one brush stroke. Not everything in your life was horribly awful all the time. And especially the future doesn’t have to reflect the past.”

It’s very convenient of you to forget the good things that happened to you and all the fun you had in the past. Very convenient to push a very specific narrative that you will be unhappy and alone for the rest of your life.

Who does that benefit? Why do you feel like you benefit from this mindset?

Maybe you can’t unpack everything at once in this moment. But now that you know there’s a question to be asked, it’s going to live in the back of your brain forever, pestering you.

You don’t have the blissful ignorance you had before.

“I have something else to say,” Bokuto says.

Normally, this trait of Bokuto’s—brain bouncing off the walls, going in a million different directions, always having something to say, always taking the conversation to new places—is cute and you love it. (Normally) you love his attention and if the easiest way to get his attention is to listen to him speak, you are happy to do it. If you weren’t in the spotlight, this owuld be fine.

But he keeps trying to help you and give you unconditional love! Even though you are garbage and providing no value right now! It’s not computing.

“Can I say it?”

“Yes.”

“Okay. I also wanted to say, what happened to you in the past doesn’t have to repeat. Especially what happened to you because of things that weren't your fault.”

You barely hold back your snort. “Aren’t we supposed to believe patterns?” You don't bring up that his worst subject is math because that would be petty and also isn’t pattern recognition something third graders are supposed to excel at? He can’t be that bad at math.

“Human beings have the capacity for change. And maybe you weren’t in your ideal environment to thrive. Once you’re given everything you need to be loved and supported, you will naturally evolve into who you were always meant to be.”

You shake your hand free from Bokuto’s and press it to your chest. He stares at the detachment between you. He rests his hand in front of yours. The kicker is: he still looks interested in what you have to say.

Hoooow?

“I can’t control my environment,” you say finally. Wondering if you have won the argument yet.

“To a certain extent.” Hm. You haven’t won yet. “But you can know what you are looking for and enforce your boundaries.”

“How is that going to help.”

“It will!”

Ugh.

You know the look on his face isn’t pity exactly. It’s easy to read it that way. It’s easy to think that he had friends how he loved in high school and he’s likeable so he’s going to have a great experience in his next stage of life, and all subsequent following stages as well. He has the skills and the luck. He can carve a place for himself in the world. Or maybe it was handed to him. Maybe he doesn't have to fight to fit in, find a community, to have his needs met. Maybe he’s just meant to be happy. He got lucky. He found the key. Or the key was given to him long ago. What about you?

His expression isn’t pitying, exactly, but it looks like it.

“Do you believe me?” he asks.

“What?” you grumble.

“That you don’t have to blame yourself for what happened to you. It doesn’t have to be something that was wrong with you, or your fault.”

“A—

“And even if it was your fault, you can learn and grow from it. You can do something different next time, you get accept help, you can nurture yourself into the person you want to be.”

“I just want to be different now.”

“There’s nothing wrong with you, now.”

“Then why am I sad?”

Your voice cracks between you. And Bokuto makes an aborted motion. He wants to put you back together. He wants to be there for you.

And you are embarrassed and mortified that tears burst from your eyes.

He coos at you and whispers, and pats your hair, and you cry more.

He hugs you.

This is so gross and awful and you don’t want anyone to see you cry but you suppose if he hasn’t left yet then is this really going to send him over the edge (the edge of leaving)? If this (crying) is the greatest weakness that was the straw that broke the camel’s back (the straw: your flaws, the camel’s back: Bokuto’s tolerance for spending time with you) then so be it.

But little did you know/it was impossible for you to comprehend that Bokuto wants you to depend on him and he wants to be there for you. (Wild.)

“You’re being there for yourself and trying to protect yourself. You’re only doing what you know how to do.”

“It’s not working,” you croak.

“It worked until now.”

“And now what?”

“You find a new way. When you’re ready.”

“I’ll never be ready.”

“That’s okay, too.”

You squirm and he struggles against you.

“Let me go!”

“No!”

“I have to blow my nose, dummy!”

“Use my shirt!”

You gape at him. “NO!”

He lets you go and you blow your nose in the bathroom and you spend as little time as possible looking at your crying face: glassy eyes and vacant expression. And redder than usual nose and cheeks.

You arrive back in bed. Bokuto stares up at you, head on one of your pillows, covers pulled up to his torso.

He pats the space on your bed in front of him.

You sigh. You prop your pillows against the wall and sit up.

Bokuto shuffles towards you and puts his head on your lap. He looks at you meaningfully and you pat his hair.

You think that’s the end of it. You cried, you washed your face, you are fully prepared for Bokuto to fall asleep here. You aren’t looking for an excuse to text his parents—you don’t want to be perceived by adults™ at all—but you wouldn't want them worrying about their precious boy. He’s just here, being a good friend to a fuck up. They really raised a stand up citizen, an absolutely, exquisitely kind, superstar of a person.

That’s so crazy.

“What if you tried finding your own positive intent?”

Your brain turned off because you were expecting the end of the convo, so his question startled you.

“What?” you said, while giving your brain time to catch up.

“You weren’t trying to hurt yourself back then.”

You don’t think now is the right time to bring up all the times you’ve hurt yourself in the past. You stay quiet and let him do this thing. You wish you could receive it in the way that would make him happy and not upset and not ready to abandon you because you can never change and he’s tired of taking care of you like this. But you can’t. So you listen and hope that everything will be okay.

“You weren’t trying to hurt yourself with all your decisions you made in the past. You were trying your best with what you were given. And you couldn't have known anything you didn’t know back then. There’s no way to magically wish you had known back then what you might know now.”

“Maybe knowledge is a burden. Maybe it was better to not know anything and to still have hope.”

Bokuto gasps. “You can still have hope!”

“I have to learn my lesson.”

“What lesson?”

You open your mouth, your fighting instincts ready before your words are. How do you answer this question—in a satisfactory way, that will convince Bokuto you’re right. You’re right. You know you’re right. How can you be wrong?

But all that comes to mind is how you did everything wrong and you have a hunch that he’s going to count all or some of those times as “times when it was out of your control” and “not your fault” which—

You can’t fault him for his perspective, you guess. Everyone is entitled to their own opinion.

And, you secretly hope he’s right. But there’s no way he’s right. You have the evidence right here. (“Evidence” … but to you it’s real.)

“Like. Imagine any child in your situation. What would you tell them?”

That question wrenches a horrified reaction from you. You don’t want to be anywhere near a child, in case all your fucked-up-edness rubs off on them. You don’t want to be the reason someone is sad like you.

He stares at you patiently like he’s actually waiting for an answer.

You “know” the right answer (be gentle and loving to the child). You aren’t pleased that he’s asking questions you don't even want to answer sarcastically. You don’t believe in “toughening” kids up at home because the world is scary. The world should be kinder. Why would anyone want to hurt kids on purpose to “prepare” them for the world? Why would anyone create a life where kids aren’t safe in the world or at home? Literally nowhere?

“It’s not their fault,” you choke out finally. He’s really not going to budge on this unless you move things along. For how hyper he is, when he decides he needs to be patient for something, he’s not going to break first.

And you don’t want to answer dishonestly. “Even for pretend” you wouldn't want to hurt a child on purpose.

“Yeah,” he says gently. “It’s not your fault either.”

You sigh. You’ll have to leave it at that for now. You trust him. You don’t think he would ever lie to you on purpose. Even if you don’t have faith in the universe, you can try to have faith in Bokuto, or at least in the fact that he wouldn't deliberately lie to your face.

“I love you,” he says.

You feel gross at that admission. How can he love all these unloveable parts of you? All you’ve done for the entire duration of hanging out with him tonight was be a burden and unloveable.

“I love you, too,” you say, because even if today you feel like you’re incapable of love, you know that you appreciate Bokuto, and his company, and how he cares about you. And you want him to know you appreciate him. Just because you are sad now doesn’t mean you can’t appreciate that he cares about you.

“Yay!” Bokuto grins. He pats your back rambunctiously, definitely evoking the vibe of Athlete after a successful huddle or point.

You suppose you and Bokuto are on a team together, a team for your mental health.

“Why don’t we do something fun?” he exclaims.

“Like what?” you answer sarcastically, but the bright eyed grin you receive and the breath he takes means he really thought—

“It’s nighttime, what do you think we’re going to be able to do?”

He looks up at you with watery, sparkling eyes. “…ramen?”

You kick him. “Are you serious? It’s so late!”

“We have to have some romantic escapades to celebrate our youth! The precious time that we have!” Bokuto says. Him weaponizing a fake genuine voice to be sarcastic is sending you (to an early grave).

He’s not wrong though is the problem. His joke is real to you and that’s what makes his joke so much funnier.

“We have to celebrate our youth!”

“Okay, I get it!” you snap. He grins at you and you pat his shoulders.

“What?”

“Well? Get up!”

He lifts his head from your lap and turns to face you rightways up instead of upside down.

“Really?”’

“Did you hear anything I said for the last seventeen hours?” you ask. “I’m taking this shit seriously! Move!”

He bounces up, manic grin shining in the lowlit room. He can’t believe you’re doing this. He can’t believe you agreed.

He didn’t think he’d get this far.

You look at the gift warily from all sides. It doesn’t count that you're having fun at this because it was so late, it wasn’t spontaneous. If someone gives you something you want after you ask for it, it somehow doesn’t count because you forced them to give you what you wanted (?) Doesn’t make sense, but okay.

So anyway, you resent but not really Bokuto for “tricking” you into having fun.

You are excited for this experience, and embarrassed that you’re so excited for something that should be normal.

You wish you could peacefully enjoy a moment like a normal person, but for now you can allow both your enjoyment of it and your annoyance at your enjoyment of it to exist peacefully because life is complicated and you’re trying your best.

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bokutosfatass04 · 2 years

Text

Something happened to me

Warnings: none.

Genre: Fluff

A/n: I don't know about others, but it helped me get through a tough time.

(Even though it's short)

I walk down the street to my boyfriend's house. Around the street, there's a lot of green areas. Like a lot of trees, plants and flowers. Even neighbours have flowers in their own houses.

Not to mention the kind atmosphere this neighbourhood has. It's like somewhere from a movie or a Disney film. It's not possible for a neighbourhood to be this nice, this happy and this comfortable to be in.

When you look back at your own neighbourhood, it's very quiet and no one really knows each other. It's like we bought houses and that's it. I know everyone's faces, but I had to guess names if I had to.

Even if someone would hold a gun to my head I wouldn't get the name right.

I am at my boyfriend's door. He opens it and puts on a biggest smile ever. At that moment a tear falls down. Bokuto's expression is changing. He hugs me and welcomes me to his house.

I barely can see. The tears are not very helpful when someone is trying to get somewhere. That's what I learnt that day.

Bokuto sets me on a sofa and gets me something to drink. Right now, I can't tell the difference between a black coffee, a very dark tea or a cocoa.

"What happened?" He asked, a bit worried.

I don't answer. Bokuto pats my back and let me lie on his chest. He sits back on the sofa on the other side and spreads his arm. At least that's my wattery eyes can see.

"Come here, y/n" he says and stays in this position until I don't come over there.

His chest is so puffy that it can easily be filled with my tears and would still have a place for more.

"It's okay" Bokuto says in comforting voice, "if something happened to you, I'll be right here. A few streets away, but here".

On those words I start to cry even more. His hands are tightening around me and I just let everything out.

The next day I wake up in his arms.

#bokuto x y/n #haikyu x reader #haikyuu #bokuto #haikyu comfort #bokuto comfort #comfort character #comfort

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itsmitsukidesu · 2 years

Text

OIKAWA FANFICTION (THIS IS AU)

Jan 5. 2018

----

"This is torture."

Shopping while babysitting is the worst

if im not short of money i wouldn't agree to babysit this little brat here. but i have no choice ahhh im so annoyed .

i have no freedom at all.

life is so hard for me

"Hey hey!! I want ice cream! buy me ice cream!!!"

she keep shaking my hand . she is so annoying grrr

"You .. wont stop , dont ya?" i glared at her

she glared back and smirk.

"no. i want ice cream ! you promise mommy you will take care of me , and do what ever i want remember ?"

i fake a smile

"yes. but not anymore. because were going home right now "

she glared again let go of my hand and then run.

"hey!! ayu!!" i shouted but she didn't even turn to me ugh this girl . i have no choiice but to follow her.

"why is she so fast"

"ayu ?"

"where did that brat go" i just keep walking until i found her . shes in the supermarket..

wait. shes talking to someone..

i run fast to the supermarket when i got there

i grabbed her hand and check if shes okay .

"hey . dont just run like that. your moms gonna kill me " and i wont get my money.

"answer me "

"sorry... i told you i want ice cream but you defy me. so i ran here to buy some , forgot that i dont have money, but this handsome man oikawa came and rescue me " she said with a genuine smile then she show me her ice cream

"oikawa?"

"yup, my savior" she point her finger in that mans direction .

savior my ass

"ayu chan is so kawai ~" the man

i look at him

he look at me too

---

hes tall , hes about 184cm

he has dark, chocolate-brown hair

brown eyes

he indeed a handsome man.

i cleared my throat and form a smile

"thanks for buying her ice cream, i should pay you. " im about to get money from my bag but he suddenly talked ..

"no need to pay me. shes enjoying it "

"eh?"

"oikawa , im really glad that ive met you here. i hope i can see you again " ayu said .

that oikawa man smiled then walk towards ayu he pat her head and ayu seems to like it.

"ofcourse."

"yay!" they fist bump

suddenly im annoyed .

"lets go ayu." i grabbed her hand.

the man looked at me with an smiling face.

ehh so annoying .

"you should take care of your sister. "

"hahahaha." ayus laughing

"sh-e shes not my sister. " she said proudly then eat her icecream again

"oh? shes not? then?" hes looking at me with curiosity ..

"shes just babysitting me" ayu looked at me with a smirk , enjoying your self eh.

"oh? thats . cool"

"its not. " he was about to say something but i cut him off

"sorry, but we really have to go, so if you dont mind, then bye!"

PS: HELLO , Im not really good at writing stories and my english is not so good too, sorry for the erros and grammars.

Im open with ideas and suggestion^^^

Thank you!

#aesthetic #art #anime and manga #black stories #haikyu x reader #haikyuu!!#haikyu comfort #oikawa toru x reader #oikawa toru x y/n #oikawa toru headcanons #fanfic #short story #fanfiction #trending

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rishiguro · 26 days

Text

you don’t think that you have ever felt as much relief as you did when you finally stepped inside your home.

with a loud thud your bag fell to the floor, right before you somehow managed to stumble into your bedroom, falling face-first into the mattress. the weight of the day finally truly sank into your bones, making your entire body ache. all you wanted to do was close your eyes and fall asleep, forgetting the day even happened.

all had been too much today.

you barely managed to get yourself out of bed in the morning after a terrible night of (or lack of) sleep and you still don’t really know how you made it to your place of work, much less made it through the day in the first place. everything was loud and bright, you were running on caffeine only and everything seemed to go wrong today. your performance was questionable at best and you couldn’t help but overthink each one of your steps.

and if that wasn’t bad enough already, the whole day you were jittery until after a few hours you noticed just how much you were shaking and how fast your heart was actually racing.

and then all you wanted to do was cry.

SUNA meanwhile had absolutely no idea what was going on when he entered your home with the key you gave him a few months ago, mindlessly taking his shoes off and messily throwing them away.

he called out for you when he noticed your bag laying right by the door. when he didn’t hear you call back to him, he furrowed his eyebrows, making his way into various rooms of your place, trying to find you. he grew slightly worried when he didn’t see you in your kitchen, living room or in the hall, but a part of him figured you might be purposely hiding from him, trying to scare him.

with a smirk on his face he decided to play along, carrying himself with light footsteps over to your bedroom door and carefully watching for a sign that you might be waiting somewhere to jump out.

when he reached your door, his hand slowly moved to the handle, pressing it down gently. taking a peek inside, he leaned forward.

you hadn’t noticed the door opening a few centimeters, much less the head peeking through it, with your head still lying flat on your bed, pillows practically pressed against your eyes to avoid sound coming through as much as possible.

suna would find it endearing if he didn’t grow so worried seeing you like this.

pressing his lips into a thin line, he decided to carefully step inside, practically sneaking towards you.

“baby?” you jerked up startled, looking around with wide, slightly puffy eyes, before you actually noticed him sitting next to you.

“fuck,” you groaned, “don’t scare me like that” you let your head fall back into the mattress.

he chuckled as you scooted over and ultimately laid down next to you. “sorry” he opened his arms and you immediately cuddled into him, resting your head on his chest. “what happened?” he asked after a few seconds of silence.

you however only shook your head, hiding your face in the fabric of his sweatshirt. “don’t want to talk about it?” you shook your head again.

so in response, he only tightened his hold on you, bending his neck in an uncomfortable way to press a kiss on your temple. “that’s okay. we can talk later”

the two of you continued to lie there in silence, simply finding comfort in each other’s presence and warmth. you listened to his calm heartbeat with closed eyes and enjoyed how suna’s hand slid up and down your back.

“it’s alright. i got you,” he muttered softly, “i’m not letting you go”

you still felt bad. but laying in his arms, you felt a little better.

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kikiyoomis · 7 months

Text

"what do even you like about me?"

sakusa is taken aback from your sudden question. the two of you were laying on bed, individually scrolling through your respective phones just before bed. there was nothing during the day that would've suggested your change in mood.

sakusa shuts his phone off and places it on the nightstand beside him before pulling you into his embrace.

"like? baby i'm so in love with you that there's nothing that i only 'like' about you," sakusa says while he buries his face into your neck.

"yea but... i'm not even that... special. i'm not super pretty or talented or smart or-" you say before the words are caught in your throat and tears starts to form.

"i feel like i just got lucky. like... why would you settle for someone like me?" you whisper.

you've had these thoughts for a while. before they only came up when you were going through a rough time with your self-confidence but recently, with sakusa's booming popularity as a highly anticipated rookie in the v league, what was left of your confidence completely shattered.

you were happy for him of course. you've been rooting for him ever since he started getting offers to play various division 1 teams. but now that your boyfriend was placed into the spotlight, you could also see all of the people who could easily take your spot as his lover. after all he had talented volleyball players, models, actors, idols and so many high status celebrities talking about him. surely he would find someone better than you who, in comparison to him, has amounted to virtually nothing.

"who said that?" sakusa asked concerned written all over his face. he sits up and pulls you into his embrace but you turn away from him.

"nobody..." you trail off, not wanting to admit that the person who put these ideas into your head was in fact yourself.

"please tell me what's going on. it can't be nobody putting those useless thoughts into your head," sakusa says soothingly as he twirls your hair around his finger gently.

"its just that... "you start but you cut yourself off. "it's nothing."

"it's not nothing. not if it has you this sad," sakusa says and you feel compelled to cry your heart out to him. to tell him about all of your worries and doubts. but what if it burdens him? he already has enough on his plate. the more you thought about it however, the less you could keep it in.

"i can't figure out why you would love someone like me. aren't i just bringing you down? sooner or later you'll find someone you love more and you won't even spare me a glance when leave. and every time i think about you leaving me i get so scared but i can't even be mad about it because if i were you i would leave me too," you finally say, tears falling down your cheeks as you finally verbalized the thoughts you held for years.

"i would never leave you. never in any lifetime of mine that i would leave you," sakusa says, trying to soothe you but your crying doesn't stop.

"i should've just stayed quiet and enjoyed my time as your s/o while it lasts. i shouldn't be this upset over the fact that you'll leave me because it's fated to happen."

sakusa pulls you into a tight embrace and as much as you want to push away, you give into his hug. he's whispering something but you can't make out what he's saying over your uneven breaths.

"y/n, i love everything about you. and i mean it. nobody, for the entirety of our relationship and before, ever came close." he brings his hands to you face and wipes your tears away with his thumb.

"but-"

"no buts."

after a few moments of silence, sakusa speaks up again.

"you know... the day you asked me out... i was going to confess to you the next day. i was so surprised, i had everything prepared and you come out of nowhere telling me that you liked me," sakusa says.

"but i was so happy you know? happier than winning the collegiate mvp. i mean for years i just had to silently deal with my feelings and who would've known that the person of my dreams is here in my arms. god, i don't even know where to start. i just... my feelings for you goes beyond love. i can't even form into words how hard my heart beats for you."

sakusa always had a way with words whenever the subject came to you. which is why you could never beat him in an argument no matter how ridiculous.

he leans in to you and places a soft kiss on your tear stained cheek. then he places another, following the trail before reaching your lips. he presses the kiss there a little longer than the gentle pecks he left on your cheeks.

you tilt your head slightly, letting your lips lock with his. you stay like that until one of you broke for air. you're greeted with sakusa's smiling face. a smile where it reaches his eyes and he's looking at you with such fondness you felt your heart skip a beat like it was the first time you had laid eyes on him.

"don't worry, i'll love you enough for the both of us. nobody will come between us, not even the stupid voices in your head." and just give me a couple weeks my love. a couple more weeks i'll prove to you how i love you by putting a ring on your finger.

#haikyu #haikyuu #sakusa kiyoomi #sakusa #sakusa fluff #sakusa kiyoomi x reader #sakusa x reader #haikyuu sakusa #haikyuu sakusa kiyoomi #msby sakusa #sakusa hurt/comfort

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softxsuki · 2 years

Note

Can I please request an urgent request about Kenma taking care of reader after their very painful stomach surgery? Thank you TT

Kenma Taking Care of Reader After Their Surgery

Pairing: Kenma x Gn!Reader

Warnings: mentions of surgery, fear, crying, vomiting, pain

Genre: Comfort

Post-Type: Oneshot

Word Count: 1.1k

Summary: In which Kenma takes care of you after your surgery

[A/N: Suzyyyyyyyy I hope you get better soon! I didn't specify the type of surgery reader had, bc I wasn't sure what to add to make it that specific and this just flowed better for me, I hope that's okay. enjoy <;3]

“Are you L/N’s family? They’re out of surgery now and in a room, you can all come in to see them now, if you’d like. They’re finally awake,” a Doctor calls out to Kenma and your family who are sitting anxiously in the hospital waiting room.

His character on his phone screen dies for the nth time at the news as he jumps up from his seat. He had spent his time in the waiting room playing a game on his phone, but really his mind was completely on you the whole time, not able to fully absorb himself in his games like he usually would.

Before your surgery, he did a great job of reassuring you that you’d be okay and seemed very calm on the outside about the whole thing, but on the inside he was freaking out. He hated how fearful you were about the whole process and would come to hate how much pain you’d be in afterwards. He wished he could take all your fear away, hence why he remained calm. Him freaking out in front of you wouldn't have helped you. And now nerves were eating him away inside as he walked behind your family to your hospital room.

The white walls were suffocating, and if it weren’t for you, Kenma would have never chosen to be in a place like that. He just wanted to be back home with you like things always were. His heartbeat was up to his throat as he approached the door that was slowly opened by your mother. Your mother was the first one by your side, checking you over to see if you were okay despite the pain clearly etched on your features.

Kenma snuck beside you and gave your hand a gentle squeeze before taking a seat in the far corner of your hospital room, away from your family. As much as he wanted to scan you up and down and try to distract you from the pain you felt, he was still a little uncomfortable displaying affection in front of your family, so he waited for them to leave. His eyes were on you the whole time, trying to express his love for you through them since he couldn’t say it out loud.

After what felt like hours with you in and out of sleep and groans of pain leaving your lips along with tears falling from your eyes, your family were finally heading out for the night. They bid you farewell and even patted Kenma on the back as your mother hugged him quickly, which embarrassed him a bit, but he hugged her back regardless–and then they were gone.

Now it was just the two of you in your hospital room. Visiting hours would be over in a few more hours, but he planned on staying there with you the whole time. Kenma took a seat on the chair your mother once occupied and held your hand gently as more tears fell from your eyes.

“It hurts so much,” you croak out, your throat in pain from the tubes that were down them during surgery.

He visibly gulps at the sight of you in pain; he hated seeing you like that. If he could take on all your pain for you he would–in a heartbeat. He felt so helpless beside you as all he could offer you were comforting words and his presence, but other than that, you had to go through the pain on your own with the very weak aid of your pain medication.

“I know Y/N,” he says softly, rubbing small circles on the back of your hand that he was still holding, “I wish I could do more to help you feel better, but all I can really do is just be here for you.”

And as much as it hurt to see you in so much pain, he stayed. Every day he came to the hospital as soon as visiting hours started, to the point until they ended. He stayed through the vomiting, the crying, restless nights–he was right there by your side until your discharge day.

Going home, Kenma continued to look after you. He listened carefully to the doctor's instructions, taking notes and memorizing everything like he would with the instructions to one of his video games. He was very serious about making sure you healed properly and got better as soon as possible.

In the beginning, he tries to keep you as still as possible, getting everything you need for you so you don’t have to strain yourself. He makes sure you’re well hydrated, even when that becomes too hard for you. When the time comes for you to get up on your feet, he’d hold your hand the whole time in case you need to squeeze it for support or if a rush of pain goes through you. All thoughts of video games go out the window and you become his main mission each day. He’s not satisfied until you’re fully healed.

Spends most nights pressing comforting kisses to your face and lips, shyly. He’s usually not so forward with his affection, but he thought maybe he would help distract you from your pain, so he didn’t mind if he got a little embarrassed.

One day you ask if you can play some games with him to help pass the time. You were sick and tired of the pain and just bored of not being able to go out like you usually did.

“Sure,” he agrees, setting up his console for the both of you.

You end up playing some multiplayer game with him, but he lets you win each round, he’s just truly focused on you, glad to see you in higher spirits for a change.

“Cute…”he whispers without even realizing it, clamping his hand over his mouth once what he said sets in and your eyes meet his.

Now bright red, he refuses to take his words back because he did mean them, you were so cute to him, absolutely beautiful, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t be any less embarrassed about it. You just smile at him and lean in for a kiss, making sure to not strain yourself in the process though, Kenma jumps up and connects your lips for you in a gentle kiss full of love.

The game is once again forgotten and the two of you talk for the rest of the night until it’s time for you to sleep again. It’s probably your third nap of the day, but he tucks you in and gets cozy beside you, joining you in each of your naps so you’re not lonely.

He loves you so much, and you’ll definitely feel the love during these next few weeks together as he takes care of you.

REQUESTS ARE OPEN :D

Posted: 10/28/2022

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sugawarassoccerlover · 5 months

Text

"are you okay? do you need a hug?" suga asked gently, holding his arms open for you.

"no, 'm fine," you mumbled, wiping your face with your sleeve, your lies obvious by the tears on your face.

suga stood and waited. he didn't want to force his care onto you, he wanted you coming to him to be your choice. he would wait. he would take the lies. he didn't mind standing there awkwardly with his arms open until you acknowledged your own vulnerability.

after a few moments, you whispered "i'm not okay" before you practically threw yourself into the former setter's arms, plastering yourself to him like a koala. and he would hold you, for as long as you needed

#haikyuu #haikyuu!!#sugawara #hq #haikyuu x reader #sugawara x reader #koshi sugawara #sugawara comfort #sugawara x y/n #sugawara koushi #haikyuu sugawara #sugawara kōshi #haikyu x reader #haikyuu blurb #sugawara blurb #x reader comfort #x reader #x y/n #sugawara x you

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j-u-u-z-o · 3 months

Text

“Nature’s Calling.” (Atsumu Miya x F. Reader) NSFW‼️ 18+

An: Heyyy guyssss! It’s been a while! Sorry for making y’all wait so fucking long! 😭 A lot of things happened last month that hindered me from posting this. Anyway! This is just another clingy fox boyfriend scenario and I love the sound of rain. So why not mix the two together. 😩💕 He makes me go crazy. Also, this is my first fic of the year so…yaaay!

Synopsis: Atsumu is spending his time at the local gym with you while the rain is pouring hard outside. So what happens next?

WARNING: NSFW‼️, Atsumu being a dumbass, making out, oral, sex, tight space (you’ll know why lol), GRAMMAR/barely proofread

Take your time reading and dive into the story ✨☺️

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The rain looked like it was getting heavier every minute. You watched it fall in the gym’s parking lot as you stood in front of the front door.

It looked like light snowfall from streetlights in the large space. Contrary to the rain pummeling hard on the surface.

“Babe? Whatcha ya’ doing?” Atsumu asked, lifting 40 pound dumbbells up and down, while he stared at your back and down to your plump ass under your black fitted shorts. You turned to his direction, seeing his glistening body flex while he lifted. Even his deep V peeking a bit. You jogged towards him. “It’s getting worse outside, we should call it a night before —“

“Excuse me. We’re about to close in 15 minutes . Please wrap up what you’re doing and get home safely. The gym staff said, preparing for store closing. “Ho…” he slowly dropped his dumbbell to either side of his body, looking bummed from the sudden announcement. “Yeah, babe.” You said softly,looking up at him. He looked at the front door and saw the heavy rainfall and said, “Yo! Can we wait till the rain stops? It’s crazy out there.” He turned to the man who was cleaning up the equipment. “I’m sorry but we need time to get this done so that we can have a smooth closing process.” Plus you are the only two customers in here — for almost three hours. Just go home already. The staff mentally noted while he wiped the weights.

“Tch. Damn it.” He sucked his teeth in annoyance. He really wanted to prepare for the next tournament in good shape than he already is. “Alright,” he sighed. “let’s get ready to go, baby.” Sadly putting the dumbbells down in its station and throwing his sweat towel over his shoulder.

“Thank you for coming!” The staff said sarcastically. “Please get home safely.” Another staff member said, quickly locking the door in front of you two and walking to the supply room in the back door to help his team. You and atsumu’s eyes followed the staff who was happily inside. Dry and warm. While you both stood outside in the rain like abandoned puppies. “That bastard. He can’t even be bothered to —“ the rain suddenly poured down harder. He quickly snapped his head around to see and pulled you closer to him. You face snuggled in his warm clothed chest — avoiding to look at the scene. “Let’s make a run for the car.” He mumbled, looking down at you with a small grin before kissing your forehead softly. You nodded and smiled softly at him.

He held your hand and shouted “Let’s go!” But before you could run, the world tilted on its axis as atsumu picked you up. “Tsumu!” You grabbed on the hem of his hoodie from behind while he carried you on his shoulder, running to his car.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The rain dropped hard while you two sat in the car listening to it. Filling the thick silence between you two.

Well this is embarrassing. He mentally noted.

“We should’ve left early.” He gave a dry laugh, looking around the parking lot from inside the car. He shook his hand in his hair drenched hair . Some Splashing a bit on your face. “Tsumu! What the hell!” You pouted, wiping your cheeks. his grey sweats were a bit soaked too. He’s so stupid sometimes. You mentally noted. You told him to leave early but he was stubborn to leave — now look what happened. Kicked out and stuck inside the car. With a clingy fox-like boyfriend. You shook your head and rolled your eyes, looking out the window from your side, watching the rain drops falling down a puddle at the end of the parking lot. “Let’s go home, baby.” He pressed the start button and turned to look at you.

Atsumu watched you with a pout on his face. He knew he should’ve listened to you. “Babe, I’m -

Brmmmm!

Your phones vibrates simultaneously. “Hm?” He hummed, picking up yours instead. You turned and looked at the bright source in the car. “Weather alert: HEAVY RAINFALL UNTIL 9PM. POTENTIAL FLOODING. DO NOT DRIVE UNTIL RAIN CLEARS.”

you stared at the screen blankly — not saying anything. He looked at your blank face illuminated by the bright screen.

“I’m soowee baby.” He whined playfully, quickly nuzzling his face in your neck while he pulled you close. “. I didn’t mean ta’ be so stupid!” He continued, rubbing his face against your soft skin. “I love ya so much baby.” He kept Begging for your forgiveness, you closer your eyes in annoyance by his wet hair rubbing against your cheek. “Okay! Okay!” You said, finally giving in. He lifted his head — his dark brown eyes looking deep into yours. “Thank you ~.” He smiled widely before kissing your lips softly. “Just don’t do it again.” You said, your lips getting peppered with kisses playfully. “Mmm.” He hummed, smacking his lips against yours once more. “I promise.” He said lowly, chuckling softly.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The sounds of the heat circulating through the car felt so good. Especially the wet kisses he was leaving on your neck while you watched videos on TikTok. “Mmm.” He moaned softly, caressing your midsection under your shirt. You cheeks felt hot in the middle of his cuddles. “Mm.” You whimpered, he kissed your favorite spot that makes your pulse flutter, earning a soft chuckle from him. “Mmm..Tsumu.” You panted, distracted by his lingering kiss on your favorite spot and his warm palm brushing up and down your stomach, lovingly.

A loud funny voice from a TikTok video stopped him in his tracks and looked down at the screen. He gave a throaty groan as he watched the funny video while he rested his head on your shoulder for a moment before going back to his task. After a while, you put your phone down and looked out the window as he so. A comfortable silence was felt between you two while the rain fell on the roof and the windshield of the car.

You just want to go home. Hoping for the rain to calm down. As if he read your mind, he moved away from your neck and turned your head to face him. “Ya okay, baby. It’s gonna go away soon” he said. “Okay?” He asked again, making sure you’re not worried as he caressed your cheek. “Mm.” You nodded slowly. “Don’t worry, we’re gonna get home.” He mumbled, leaning closer before his lips met yours. Deep yet slow passionate kisses filled the air inside the car. His hand slid back down and underneath your shirt— brushing his fingers against your tummy. “Mm.” You moaned, loving the way his lips never left yours, dancing with it slowly, rhythmically.He knows how to clear your mind in so many ways. The slow lip smacking sounds mixed well with the pattering sound of the rain.

“Ah.” You panted softly, feeling his warm hand slide down and in between your inner thighs, gently stroking it. “Mmm.” He moaned in the passionate kisses, feeling how warm your skin was getting. His fingers crossed over to brush your clothed pussy. “Mm.” You whimpered, quivering from the brush-like strokes, making you break the kiss. “Tsumu.” You breathed out, looking down at the fingers brushing it in circles, rewarding him with another soft moan.

“Let me see them baby.” He whispered. You removed the straps from your shoulders and pulled your strapped tank top down, shyly. Revealing your plump breasts, your hard pebbled nipples always looking ready to be sucked on. “Wow.” He sighed, staring at them in awe when you gently tugged them with your fingers. looking even more erect than it naturally is already. you turned your body a bit in the cramp space of your seat to get more friction on his fingers and to feel his crafty appendage on your pebbled nipples. He rested his elbow on the mid console and leaned over. You rested your hands on his shoulders and your foot on the end of the seat as you watched his fingers brush your clothed clit and his mouth wrap around your erect nipple from in between.

The gratified moans left your throat and rang in his ears while he fiddled with your clothed clit and sucked your nipples. “Here?” He whispered knowingly, looking up at you while he slowly licked your nipple. You tilted your head to the side, nodding to his ministrations, exhaling while scratching his undercut, lovingly. He was still looking up at you while he flicked your erect nipple. You were squirming under his fingers that brushed your clothed pussy so well. His tongue has gotten even more watery from the sight that you started hearing the wet sounds coming from it. “M-mmm.” You moaned, your fingers trembling on his shoulders. “Ah-Unnh” you pushed your chest closer to his mouth, sighing from the feathery sensation from the way his warm and watery muscle licked your hard and sensitive nipple. It felt so good, licking it right in the center — just how you like it. And then, sucking it gently.

After a while, a wet pop rang in your ears and he moved up to leave kisses on your neck. “Unh.” Your head fell back, feeling his calloused fingers stroking your thighs in a feathery. His warm palms grazing your skin making you caress his the sides of his neck — needy for more. “Let’s take this off.” He whispered, sliding them up to the waistline of your fitted shorts while still lingering on your neck.

You looked around — worried. searching the parking lot for any person or thing, that might see you and your boyfriend. Since he parked under the light pole. How dumb. He leaned back and followed your eyes. “It’s just us, baby.” He assured, “the doors are locked too. Wanna check?” He chuckled, earning a light smack on his chest. “But babe —“ “I want to make it up to ya’.” His fingers brushed your sides, making you shiver as he waited for you to answer. You looked around the area again and from the back window. He waited patiently while admiring your flushed beauty. You sighed and looked at him. “Just this once.” You said lowly, as if somebody was watching you two. “Okay, baby.” He hummed and kiss your lips, gently.

Soon after, he helped you take off your shorts and panties. “Mmm.” He grinned, getting a glimpse of your pretty pussy, glistening thanks to the lights inside the car and the light pole outside, luckily. “Sit back baby.” He pulled back to adjust the seat — lowering it a bit. You stared up at the ceiling inside the car and breathed a bit deeply. He gently spread your legs open and lifted your right leg to rest on the armrest on your side. He bent over and started leaving slow kisses on chest and down to your tummy. “Just relax baby.” He mumbled, catching you looking out the window for anyone. His continuing left hand brushed your deep inner thighs. Making you look down at his tasks, distracting you.

The way his soft palm brushed your left inner thigh, you moved it to the side a bit to give him more room — to feel more of the gentle caress. “Mmm.” You moaned, his fingers slid down your thigh, brushing the tips on your outer folds, softly. Soon after, You gasped expertly started digging in between your inner folds. Brushing it side to side, slowly opening you up. “Ya so warm, baby.” He praised, leaning down to look at your puffy pussy lips. You panted while you watched him rub our folds. He bit his bottom lip as he so until he slid them down and up to your clit — making your buck your hips up from the sensation. He chuckled and looked at you. You blushed hard at his gaze while the rain drops fell down hard — adding to the pleasuring atmosphere.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Huuungggh” you groaned heavily, turning your head to the side while he edged your clit so well. Slowly and steadily. His fingers brushing so… softly. tweaking it to get more out of you. “Mmmm.” You but your bottom lip, relishing your pussy getting massaged by his crafty fingers. He slid them down and up and flicked your clit. “So sexy, baby.” He said thickly, watching your hips roll up against his fingers, covering them with your warm slickness. You bucked your hips, your throbbing clit meeting his calloused fingertips every time. “Haaa…yeah. Like that.” Praising him breathlessly, circling your hips while he rubbed it slowly — almost like stroking a cat’s soft ear.

His strokes were sparking fires in your lower stomach. “Ugh.” Moaning as you rolled your hips up to meet his feather-light strokes on his slippery fingertips.

breathing heavily, you felt your release getting closer. So you grounded your hips and rolled your hips up — getting your clit stroked with his soft fingers. your pussy quickly started pulsating — making you pant quickly until you whined; grabbing onto the hem of your tank top for some kind of control. Short spurts of your fluids fell on his fingers while he continued stroking it, softly. you grunted heavily each time you released your fluids:

Rubs, “Ugh…” — squirt

Rubs, “Aghhh…” — squirt,

Rubs, ”U-unngh…” and squirt.

You quivered heavily from the last spurt. He hummed in satisfaction — he loves a squirter. He leaned over in between your legs. “M-mm!.” You whimpered, shivering when you felt his lips give a quick peck on your sore puffy clit, earning another quick short spurt afterwards. He chuckled. “Look how puffy your clit looks now.” Smiling at his work. However, he didn’t want to stop there. “Tsumu.” You whined, almost sounding like a cry, watching him lower his head between your legs in such a cramped space. You haven’t cooled down enough from the first orgasm. “Jus’ wanna taste you.” He mumbled, angling his head and sticking out his tongue.

“a-aunhh!.” You twitched, the sudden fluttering sensations prickled all over your body as his tongue started licking your puffy clit, side to side. “Oh god” you panted shallowly, watching the wet digit graze it so well. Feeling very hot, you to look out the window. Your chest heavily as the appendage swiped your slowly in circles. “Ahh..”then closing your eyes, you listened to the relaxing raindrops and the pure thrilling sensations on your clit. After a while, The quiet space mixed with your heavy exhales and rain drops were the only two things that filled thick the air. “Mmmmm.” You moaned, resting your hand on his head, gently scratching it as he left soft pecks right on your erect clit. The wet gentle pecks added tingles in your lower tummy. Rewarding him with a a few of your breaths hitching satisfyingly. “Yeah…don’t stop baby.” You whispered, caressing his hair messily and pushing it back to the side as you began slowly bucking your hips to his kissable mouth.

You lifted your left leg and hooked it over his shoulders to give him more room. And for you, a more better view of him sucking and kissing your puffy clit and the sheer friction that you’re receiving. “Ungh…y-yeah…suck it.” You groaned thickly, watching his puckered lips sucking it passionately. His soft and warm lips felt so good around your throbbing clit. You eventually started humping it as he so. the sounds from the car seat creaking — mixing with the sucking sounds from his lips, as you so. “Agh! Y-Yeah!” humming from the overtaking pleasure, your clit throbbing relentlessly. The rapid sounds of his sucking from your hips bucking feverishly echoed inside the car. “Fuck!” You whispered out, your release getting closer and closer. You lifted your right leg from that rested on the armrest and bucked quickly agaisnt his mouth — making your leg dangle in the air. “A-aungh!” You cried erotically, abruptly twitching in your seat, pushing his head deeper, sucking it harder as you relish the remaining sparks of your of your orgasm.

A wet pop from his lips, he pulled back and took off his black t-shirt. Licking his lips, he reached out for your hand. You eyes followed his direction as he puts it inside his sweat shorts. You gasped, feeling his sheath — hard and hot. “Do your thing, baby.” He mumbled, biting his lips, looking down with anticipation. erection.

You stroked his girth, gently. Feeling some of the veins against your fingers. He pulled his cock out with your hand, “Yeah…that’s nice.” He moaned lowly, Receiving a better view of your hand doing its task. His gratified moans was heard from this throat. You looked up at him — his head resting on the headrest with his eyes closed while he gave a few throaty moans. The only sound that rang in your ears despite the constant raindrops. You shyly looked back down at your slow strokes; eventually rubbing your fingers around the mushroom tip in circles. Earning an open mouth sigh from him. You quietly leaned over, resting your knees on the cushion, and kissed the pinkish tip. He twitched. “You’re a sneaky one, aren’t ya.” He chuckled, slowly opening his eyes. “Ooh.” He said lowly, feeling your warm lips wrapping aroind his cock and slowly bobbing down the length. “Yeah…slow baby. Just like that.” He bit his bottom lip, and stroked your back, gently.

After a few minutes, he began rolling his hips up to your mouth. Your tongue glided around the sheath, feeling your tongue swipe against the veins. Placed hand atop your head and Bucking into your roughly yet steadily. “Gak!” You gagged, the tip poking the back of your throat. He moaned as it did, listening to light wet sounds each time it entered your needy mouth. “Mmmmm.” He growled, brushing your back lovingly while you focused on sucking the tip.

Head fell back on the headrest— a Long breathless sigh left his lips while his dark brown eyes looked around the empty parking lot.

“Come’re” he lifted your head up and cupped your cheeks. Your soft lips looks sore that his lips met yours deeply. Tasting yourself and his own — mixing the two together. “Get on my lap.” He whispered, breaking the kiss. Without a word, you did.

Well. He does owe me, right? You mentally noted.

You know having sex with him in the car is a roller coaster— literally. And, uncomfortable because of the tight space inside of the car too. Which is why you’d only settle for cuddles. His rough passionate sex turns you into a hot mess — all the time.

He pushed his seat back to get a better view of your beautiful body above him and he helps you get to his side of the car until he pulled you close to his chest. He gasped when he felt your erect nipples rub against his chest. Resting your hands on his shoulders, you rubbed it against him playfully, earning a playful moan from him. “Mmm. That feels nice, baby.” He grinned, looking into your eyes as you so, rewarding you with throaty moans. He raised his head and his warm mouth captured your tit — sucking it lovingly like he’s kissing you deeply and slowly. “M-mmm’.” You moaned softly, feeling his crafty tongue flicking your nipple. You steered your body side to side while he licked it.

Breaking away from your puffy nipple, he got himself comfortable. Pushing the car seat back, Stretching out his legs and then spreading it apart. You giggled when he pulled you down closer to him — knowing that he’s gonna fuck so good. You spread your legs apart thanks to your knees resting on his thighs. Your hand slid in between and stroked his cock. He held your hand with his and slowly rubbed the tip against pussy. Gliding it up and down your pussy. “Ahh.” You moaned, the warmth feeling so good in your folds and then circling it around your puffy clit. Your circled your hips for friction as he so — your warm arousal glossing his cock the tip. “Oh baby…” you breathed out, humping it steadily, up and down. His dark brown arbs stared in yours deeply. Relishing your nipples rubbing against his chest and your warm pussy circling his hard cock.

With his hand wrapped around yours, he slid his girth in between your slick folds once more and helped you align it to your cunt. Feeling the tip poke your entrance, your pussy throbbed by the feeling as he waited for your signal to go. You then slowly pushed it in. Slowly taking him inside while you sunk on it —letting go of his girth once the tip was inside. A shaken moaned left his lips when you leaned back to seat yourself properly.

Your hands slid down to his chest and you applied some of your weight on it when you began rolling your hips steadily on his sheath — getting adjusted to his length. He rested his hand on your lower back and the other on the back of your thigh while you Roughly yet gently, grind on his cock. Arching your back, you feel it massaging your tight plush walls while the tip poked your sweet spot, over and over. “Ooh.” You breathed out, relishing the warm friction of the length stroke you so well. “Mmmmm.” you continued, rocking your hips roughly and slowly, pushing your ass back to feel his entire length graze your walls. It felt so good . Especially the veins on his cock that added to the pleasure you were receiving.

A few moments passed and you increased your pace. Riding his cock with so much want while his body was rocking below you. You watch his blissed face while you panted. His face was turned to the side with his eyes closed while he bit his bottom lip. His head getting pushed up against the headrest while he was relishing your warm tight cunt squeezing around him. Soon after, his throaty guttered moans echoed inside the car — which made you clench his length and ride him a bit quicker. Suddenly, the wet sounds coming from your sobbing cunt was ringing in his ears. “Aauuungh.” He groaned deeply, feeling you squeeze his cock tightly, on purpose. “Ug-unnhhh.” He was getting completely taken away by your ministrations — feeling putty underneath you. You smiled softly at his pure reactions and leaned over to kiss him deeply. “Mmmmm~.” He moaned, smacking his lips against yours, passionately.

He slid his hands up to your hips. Gripping it push it back and forth on his length roughly.“Ahh…fuck baby.” He said deeply, seemingly in a daze while he admired your beautiful form rocking above his. Your warm exhales fell on his face as you so. “Ride it, baby.” He whispered, looking down in between to see his cock covered in your arousal. Warm and glistening in the light every time you lifted your hips. He smacked your ass cheeks roughly and kneaded it to reward you while he watched. Soon after, he began bucking his hips to meet yours — earning a few of your breaths hitching. Echoing in his ears. He thrusted his cock into your sobbing cunt with good measure each time you sunk on it — rewarding him shaken pants and your body quivering from his deep thrusts.

“Oh baby.” You moaned erotically, your ass bouncing on his thighs while his long strokes were rubbing your sweet spot so well. “You like that huh.” He looked up with a cocky smile. He pulled your hips down to his to deepen his thrusts and gripped it; not wanting to be at least an inch away from your clenching pussy. “Oh yeah..” you panted, lifting your head up, your pussy making thick sticky sounds of your arousal smothering his pelvis.

A few more controlled thrusts, He spread his legs further apart and gripped your knees from underneath. The sudden shifting made yelp as your feet rest atop thighs now, your right hand holding onto the armrest and the other resting on top of the center console. He smirked at your pussy in full view: your wet folds spread out more and your pretty puffy clit. “A-ah!” You leaned on your side, quivering as he started thrusting in your cunt quickly. “Ooooh. Fuuuck.” He breathed out, watching his quick controlled thrusts making your body quiver. “Mmm!” He bit his bottom lip, gripping your knees underneath roughly and increasing his pace while you clenched him relentlessly.

“Ts-sumu!” Your tits bounced around feverishly from his ministrations. The wet sounds grew louder quickly — mixed with your breathless moans. “Mmmrgh.” He whined deeply, relishing your tight warmth, and eyeing your suckable nipples bouncing in his face. “Ah!” You whimpered, quivering when you felt his feather light touches brush your waist — up and down and around your soft glistening skin. You head fell back and you closed your eyes. The sounds of his cocking slamming in your sobbing cunt and it poking your sweet spot sparked a prickling feeling in your stomach — beginning to make your clit throb from the fluttering sensations. “Haaa…haa..” you panted, bucking down to meet his deep relentless thrusts. You started to feel your walls trembling — “A-Ah! Ah!” you gasped rapidly, feeling your release coming soon. His hands gripped your thighs from underneath and pushed it back, the heel of your feet digging in his thigh. He raised himself and bucked feverishly in your cunt. “Uuuuungh!” He hissed, rolling his hips up roughly, his skin slapping against your soaked pussy, rapidly. “Heh! That’s it.” He chuckled, staring hardly at your pussy slowly oozing out white fluids — covering his cock. You warm fluids dripped on his length. Creaming his cock lovingly and yours too every time slammed into you. Soon after, he reached out to rub his thumb against your clit. Your head snapped down and watched it brush your clit softly in contrast to his feverish thrusts. Your body tensed up and felt putty each second. “Mmmm.” You whimpered, the friction on your clit fluttering all over your body. You’re were about to come. Very soon. “Yeah! Yeah!” He whispered, rubbing your clit while your walls squeezing him all too well, making him push his cock into you roughly. “G’head baby.” He said thickly. “Cum on my fucking cock.” Hissing at how tight you feel around his sheath.

Soon after, your clit was pulsating uncontrollably. “U-ugh!” You groaned, your hips pushed up and you cummed. your cum gushes out of you in fast, long spurts that manages land on his abs. “Oh!” He shouted, quickly gripping your hips and slamming into you frantically. “A-aah!” You cried, Your walls were crumbling around him, crazily. “Mm!” He moaned roughly, biting his bottom lip while he looked deep into you watery eyes. “Right there. “Right there…don’t stop, baby.” He said thickly, Sitting up and Pulling you down on his cock while he slammed into you. “Haa…fuck.” His mouth opened slowly, breathing heavily as he was feeling his climax getting closer, “yeah…” he breathed out. His fingers were digging into your hips — an iron grip on it that you couldn’t move around. “Right there, Tsumu!” You panted, his tip kept hitting your sweet spot making you pulsate and spurt out again, roughly. The wet slapping sounds rang inside the car, endlessly. “Unh!” You twitched under his iron grip, feeling completely putty after cumming again. “Ugh!” He growled loudly; a few more quick thrusts, he gave a long strangled-like moan when his cum shoots in your walls while he struggled to keep going — twitching while his breath was hitching heavily until he froze. His warm fluids shooting inside you while he held you tightly.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Heavy breathes echoed inside the car. Your pussy was throbbed by his cock twitching inside your soaked cunt. “Shit. I swear to god your pussy is on another level, baby.” He said breathlessly, resting his head back on the headrest while his chest heaved heavily. You hummed. Leaning over to his chest to cuddle. You whined, shifting your sore legs from his iron grip and resting them on his sides. You began leaving kisses on his neck as a thank you for keeping his promise. He stared up at the car ceiling as you so, still relishing your warmth inside your cunt for a few more minutes before pulling his cock out. After a while, you rested your hand on his left cheek and your soft lips met his passionately. “Mmmm.” He moaned in the slow deep kisses and suddenly smacked your ass cheeks, earning a playful moan from you. He chuckled and kneaded your ass while both lips smacked one another, lovingly.

After a while, he broke the kiss and his hands slid up to massage your breasts. “We should do this more often, baby.” He grinned, his thumbs brushing your nipples, feathery. You giggled at his fox-like smile. “I think Mother Nature is tellin’ us somethin’” he added, wiggling his thick eyebrows. “You’re so stupid.” You have a breathless laugh and he followed. A few deep kisses later, both phones abruptly vibrated simultaneously. You lifted yourself from his chest and he whined as you reached out for his phone. “Oh. It says it’s safe to drive now.” You read the text message. Now that you mentioned it, you looked out the window and realized that the rain had stopped.

“Babe.” You looked down at him, hoping he heard you. He hummed in agreement and sat up. “I heard ya.” He wrapped an arm around you, resting his chin on your breasts, smiling softly. “What?” You giggled, brushing his hair. “Let’s egg the gym someday.” He announced, smiling devilishly. Your eyes widened. “For what —“ “For payback.” He mumbled. You sighed at the clingy man who was looked up at you for an a see while admiring your genuine beauty. You shook your head and said, “let’s go home. I wanna take a shower.”

“And we can have a round two?” He suggested.

“If you promise to not vandalize the gym.” You smiled. “That doesn’t sound like a good deal to me, baby.” He pouted, “we could’ve died out here, ya know.” You raised an eyebrow at his dumb remark. “Yeah while fucking in the midst of a deadly storm, Shut up! .” You shook your head and smacked his shoulder, pulling back to lift up your strapped tank top while he chuckled. He quickly leaned forward and sucked your nipple and flicked it quickly. “Tsumu!”

“What. They’re starin’ at me! They love me, see?” He flicked it playfully while he looked up at you.

“I’m taking the bus home.” You pulled up your top and forcefully unwrapped his arm off around you, and moved back to your seat. "Nooo." He whined, quickly pulling back — taking his sweat towel and started cleaning up with a pout on his face. You gave him a kiss on the cheek for listening to you a few minutes after.

“You see what happens when you listen? You get rewarded.” You giggled playfully, putting back your panties and shorts on. “Oh? What’s my reward, then?” He looked at you expectantly as he started the car. “You’re not sleeping on the couch tonight, babe.” You said, smiling while you put on your seatbelt. “Well…I was hoping for a round two in the shower. But I guess…that’s fair.” He shrugged his shoulders. “Just drive the damn car, Tsumu!” You crossed your arms and turned to look out the window, annoyed again.

“Yeees ma’am .” He dragged out, shifting the gear to drive. “I’m getting my guys to egg the gym though. Since you don’t want to.” He said, on purpose, driving to the parking lot’s exit.

You sighed and shook your head — pouting. He suddenly rested his hand on your thigh as a silent apology. He really doesn’t want to sleep on the couch.

You didn’t want to repeat yourself again.

Keep pushing your luck, Tsumu.

372 notes · View notes

k8luvsu · 20 days

Text

“i’m insecure of my laugh”

ft. Tsukishima Kei

f!reader x Tsukishima Kei

angst to fluff

author’s note: thought of this during class, yay!! anyway, i hope u enjoy, stay safe, xoxo ‼️🫶

It was another school day, just talking to your friends, when someone made you laugh— another classmate of yours scoffed and commented, “What kind of laugh is that?” , the others just laughed, telling the person to shut up and mind their own business, but you minded it. Your sound of laughter soon died down, now forced chuckles and smiles here and there. That really affected you, ruining your entire day, heck, maybe your entire week.

Days passed, you were nonchalant and dry. You still showed smiles but the laughs felt like a rare sound to hear now.

After classes, you went to one of the quiet parts of the school. You just needed.. time. Were they joking? Were they being serious? But in the end, it was stuck in your head the past few days, you were zoning out, just.. sitting there. Until you felt someone beside you, humming quietly. You slowly turned your head to see that it was none other but Tsukishima Kei.

“Jeez, Kei! At least say something when you’re here— wait, first of all, how did you know I was here?! Are you a stalker?!” You squealed in surprise, almost jumping from where you sat.

“One, I just had to grab the chance to spook you. Second, isn’t it obvious by now? You go here when you need to cool off or whatever. And lastly, no, can’t a guy know his girlfriend too well?..” He replied in a nonchalant way, but somehow there’s a hint of humor in there, like another one of your daily banters.

“Well… okay, yeah. Why are you here?” You frowned and glared at him, slightly chewing on your lip in nervousness.

“…To check on you…” He whispered quietly, “What?” You furrowed your eyebrows, “I came to check on you…” He mumbled, “What???”, you raised one of your eyebrows, “I came to check on you, dummy!” He finally said in a voice you can actually hear him.

“..O-oh. Oh.” You finally realized, you made a small smile, giggled a bit, almost laughed, but kept it in.

“Why?” He scoffed without looking at you, just looking in front of him to avoid eye contact, you replied, “Huh? What do you mean ‘Why?’, Kei?” You said in a confused tone.

“Why did you let that idiot’s words get to your head? About your laugh?” He grumbled. “Well.. I mean, it is weird, now that I realize, I don’t get why I laugh like—“ You explained before you get cut off by him, “Like an angel? Yeah, I don’t get it too, your laugh is so mesmerizing, it drives me insane.” He confessed with a blush, then you blushed as well. “P-Pardon? No, I think you misunderstood me—“, you quickly replied, “Yeah, yeah, I get it, your laugh’s like that. So what? It brightens up the whole room— brightens up my day. Everyone’s got a different laugh. Your laugh’s my favorite. My medicine.”

“I-I mean- well..” You look down, fiddling with your fingers as you bit and chew on your lower lip, “Look, I know I don’t say these a lot, but please, don’t let the words of pathetic people go to your head, they want to do nothing but make you insecure of yourself. Your laughs and smiles are so.. I don’t know, its like heavenly sounds ringing in my ears. You know? You’re divine. I love you.” He mumbles shyly, his cheeks heating up.

“Pfft-“ You giggle, stifling a laugh, then you laugh out loud, showing obvious comfort in his presence. “No way, did the Tsukishima Kei say that?!”, you laugh.

“There she is,”, he smiles, staring into your eyes as he basks in the divine beauty before his eyes.

the end </3!

#tsukishima x y/n #tsukishima fluff #tsukishima x reader #haikyuu tsukishima #tsukishima kei #hq tsukki #tsukki x reader #haikyuu tsukki #tsukkishima kei #haikyuu fluff #haikyu x reader #haikyuu #insecure reader #insecure #comfort

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daebraeksan · 2 years

Text

Social anxiety, and too scared and embarrassed to dance in Bokuto’s dorm room, and subsequent comforting by all/many (a group effort)

Genre: comfort, college au, pre-relationship, friendship, alternate timeline (characters are aged differently to the show);;

characters: bokuto, hinata, atsumu, osamu, suna, sakusa (primarily a bokuto comfort fic but everyone joins at the end)

Contents; social anxiety, low self esteem, abandonment issues/fear of abandonment, over analysis, stress, nervousness, emotionally sensitive reader, feeling like things aren’t going to work out, reader might seem dramatic to people … but anxiety creates life or death situations so lowkey (highkey) it is dramatic, limiting beliefs, asking for help, communicating, a supportive friend group <3, cognitive distortion: whatever the phrase for “not believing your friends like you”, cognitive distortion: foreshortened future, cognitive distortion: filtering/negating the positive/focusing on the negative, cognitive distortion: magnification/catastrophizing, reader likes/is ok with hugs, college is a scam, at least in america it is,

Wc: 7618

a/n: everyone is the same age AU: pretend all the character dynamics are the same even though they are “the same age” since they are all first years in college. Also Atsumu and Osamu are only one month younger than Bokuto anyway. Bokuto is the youngest he could possibly be for his grade (i think) i don’t care, i wanted everyone in the same fic, anyway please enjoy, hope you like it

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

You met Bokuto at orientation. You both sat in the front of the room at info sessions and class introductions and became front-row-buddies. You’ve never met someone with quite his specific brand of bulldozer optimism. You liked the part of yourself you discovered during orientation, who liked keeping up with Bokuto, egging him on, and who he hyped up in return. You’ve never been friends with someone like Bokuto before. The pressure was on you to be the driving force, the energy. Left to their own devices, you weren’t sure you’d ever see your old friends outside of school.

There’s none of that pressure in your friendship with Bokuto. An invitation is on the tip of your tongue, and he beats you to it. You might have enjoyed high school a lot more if you had friends like Bokuto. You missed out on many experiences because of your circumstances, and you are still grieving those losses, but it's exciting to think about the future—maybe your experiences can be better, and different, than before. Maybe the past doesn't have to repeat. With Bokuto, you wonder if you will have the support you need to avoid feeling lonely and sad and excluded. You don’t have to feel like your social needs aren’t met.

It’s a really hopeful thought.

You’re really excited.

An unrelated fact is he was really cute.

But anyway.

That was unrelated.

The close of orientation left you aching, memories and feelings echoing in your hollow chest. You can’t wait to come back and stay here longer. You already felt attached to Bokuto. You never thought you could be friends with someone “like him.” You felt excited to be a cool, new, different person who could be friends with someone like Bokuto.

You felt excited for this year.

#~#~#

You move into your dorm on campus a week before classes start. Bokuto is a constant in your new life: you meet up with him when you finish moving in, as orientation progresses, as classes start.

You slowly meet some of his friends—so many of them. They came several weeks early to campus for volleyball, and an accelerated sneak peak of classes—the first few topics, some important projects. They were busy with their first taste of college life. It sounded like hell.

It also sounded really fun. They got to know each other really deeply, and they all seemed like friends who knew each other for a lot longer than a few weeks. Some of them were friends from the same high school, but they had all met each other through high school volleyball in some form. Those who were acquaintances before were solidly friends now. They all bonded through their pre-semester experiences, the happy and painful and difficult ones alike.

Learning about their experiences and seeing that bond from the outside zapped your nervous system through the bruises on your soul—all the certainties and fears fall like dominos: you don’t fit in, you’re lonely, you'll never get what you want, you’ll never make friends, you’ll never be happy. You’ll always face the thin mysterious layer which keeps you from interacting with and experiencing the world like other people seem to. Humans share 99.9% of their DNA with each other, and yet, there’s something wrong with you inherently, and you don’t know what it is. You don’t know how to fix it. That 0.1% is enough to keep you out of the spaces you want access to.

All of this is going on in the background which makes socializing extremely draining. In your case, social anxiety makes you seem like an introvert. It’s true that socializing is draining—but that’s because the anxiety is kicking your butt.

You’re not ready to give up yet, and you really do enjoy spending time with Bokuto. If it wasn’t for the social anxiety, you would be completely energized spending time with him.

Bokuto continues inviting you to events with his friends and you continue to go. You try not to feel pain when they do things without you. But you do. You feel the pain. You wish you didn’t. You wish you were cool and chill and had something better to do, and thus wouldn't be impacted by Bokuto not inviting you to things.

It didn't happen often. But your heart clenches when you see Bokuto and the boys out late at night on snapchat, with strobing rainbow lights and shaky camera work, or under bright sunshine, on the volleyball court, or in the mirror at the gym.

Generally, when Bokuto is doing something with his friends, he invites you, too. But you always feel like an outsider.

You wonder when you will feel like “part of the group.” You wonder if it is possible. They aren’t cold or uninviting. But you can’t believe that they would want you there.

Sometimes, they invite you to do something in particular, like some campus event, or an info session for an extracurricular activity. Sometimes they invite you to do nothing, like in one of their dorm rooms. Though, doing “nothing” always leads to something, and even then, Bokuto and his friends’ version of doing nothing is still a lot.

That’s what happened today—they don’t seem to have a set plan, but something always materializes for them. Bokuto texts you, and you don't have anything better to do, and even if you had options, you’re not certain any of them could possibly eclipse hanging out with Bokuto.

Bokuto’s dorm wasn’t too far from you, and you text him when you’ve arrived, and wait in the lobby awkwardly until he comes to get you. You smile, terrified, at the RAs at the desk, and feel the weight of potential conversation in the air. But you don’t know what to say. Also they have their laptop out. Also they are talking to each other about something personal.

You wait quietly. You look at the design on the carpet, on the walls. You look at the strange and unnecessary design choices in the wall, random parts jutting out, and weird artistic pieces dangling from the ceiling. It all seems really extra, like they are trying to compensate for something (like college being a scam.)

Bokuto is good at many things: volleyball, having an infectious laugh, and lightening the mood. He is also good at being dramatic and projecting his voice, so you hear him way before you see him. It’s actually funny from how far away his voice precedes him. When he finally emerges, you see he is surrounded by a whole gaggle of boys—actually, it’s only two, Atsumu and Hinata, but they draw the attention in the room to them. They’re like a black hole, the focal point. And yes, even though it was only two of them, they added to the noise, but Bokuto’s voice still stood out the most.

(At least to you.)

“Hey!” he hoots, arms outstretched as he approaches you.

You grin and his long legs cross the distance before you realize and get bundled up in his hug. He’s so strong and he smells nice. But you can’t say those things. Right? That would be crazy. Or creepy.

But actually, it’s Bokuto, so he might really like the compliment.

You tell him that you love hugs from him and he’s so strong and he smells nice.

Bokuto’s jaw drops.

He hugs you again, tighter.

“Thank you!” It’s almost a shout in your ear, but you’ll recover your hearing in due time. If it’s Bokuto, you don’t mind.

“Aw, _____,” Hinata coos. “Yall are so cute.”

“Wow, okay, get a room,” Atsumu snaps. “But also, what about me?”

Hinata ridicules him for being “the where’s my hug” guy while you look up in terror. This is why you didn’t want to say that. What were you thinking? You don’t know—why does everyone always misconstrue things—I mean, they’re making fun of you because you’re not attractive enough to be flirting with someone like Bokuto (if flirting was what it even was!!! Which it wasn’t!! You’re not arrogant!! You know he’s out of your league!!!!!) Right??? That’s what the crux of this is.

You’re not arrogant. This shouldn’t be happening to you.

You don’t know where to look pleadingly. G-d has forsaken you. Why?

“We could, but you bums are all literally in my room,” Bokuto snaps.

“Excuses, excuses,” Atsumu says, while you stare at all of them in shock. You suppose this is roasting. It’s all jokes. They don’t mean it.

Or do they?

But even if they mean it, it’s under the disguise of a joke, so it really never has to be brought up again. I mean how often are these people having genuine conversations about their feelings?

You don’t know.

For now, you are happy you gave Bokuto a compliment that made him happy. You wonder what he’s been up to all day. Yes, you’ve been texting and Snapchatting all day. But still. You wonder. There’s no way he’s told you everything, right?

You want to ask him, but you’re cut off by Atsumu.

“How are you?” Atsumu asks.

“Doing good, what about you?” you say.

“Same, same,” he says.

Some people ask how are you doing because they genuinely mean it, and some people ask it for small talk, which isn’t necessarily a bad thing. It’s not a bad thing to not be close with someone. And even people who are close might ask each other how they are doing. But you’re panicking. You’re boring and this sucks. No one is going to like you if you can’t be more interesting than this.

But what are you supposed to say? There’s nothing. How can you be interesting?

Why can’t you just be a different person without any of these problems?

Hinata asks you if there’s any extracurriculars you’re thinking of joining, and Atsumu asks if there’s any cool people on your floor, and if your RA is chill. You barely have time to acknowledge and be polite to the RA working at the front desk as you fork over your student ID with Hinata and Atsumu bombarding you with questions.

“Who’s signing you in?” the RA asks.

“ME!” Bokuto barrels through the two boys. Atsumu takes a step back, gripping the edge of the counter tight, pretending that he wasn’t about to be toppled over. Hinata goes flying, and almost bumps into two girls entering the dorm.

“Oh my god, sorry about him, are you okay?” Atsumu asks in his most flirtatious voice, and then he’s busy talking with them.

You’ve signed in and you, Hinata, and Bokuto head to the staircase.

“Atsumu—” you begin to ask.

“Serves him right,” Bokuto said, surprisingly darkly.

“He knows where we’re at,” Hinata said, waving his hand dismissively, before you can ask Bokuto what’s wrong. “He’ll be back when he’s ready.”

You want to put your hand on Bokuto’s back, or in his hand. You hope nothing serious is distressing him. You don’t want to see Bokuto sad. Or you at least want to be able to support him and comfort him while he is. But you can’t do any of those things, that would be too much. Bokuto is a very touchy-feely person, and seems to be very comfortable with physical touch, you aren’t as comfortable. And especially with being anxious about who will read into things. (You’re reading into things.) (And Atsumu, APPARENTLY.) You don’t want anyone to know anything about you (that you really like Bokuto, and you want more physical touch with him, even though it makes you nervous. You want to be closer to him, and learn more about him, and hang out more. You want all these things. And none of that should be embarrassing, but you’re still embarrassed.)

Instead, you do nothing, and let Bokuto and Hinata talk at you some more, and you give answers to their questions as best you can (you’re still boring even when you try your best. That is not an encouraging thought.) You wished you were the kind of person that could reach deep inside you in the moment of need and evolve into a different better person, that was perfect for the moment, adapting to the situation. But you’re not the main character in an anime. And evolution doesn’t come from magic anyway, it comes from hard work and practice.

You can’t fake years of regular, healthy, and safe socialization.

So here you are.

By the time you are down the hall, almost ready to enter the room, Atsumu is loping behind them to catch up.

“There’s no loyalty in this house,” Atsumu declares with a sigh, stopping right behind them, and walking into the room with them.

“Yeah, there really isn’t,” Bokuto glares.

“Why didn’t you wait for me?” Atsumu demands.

“You were busy!” Bokuto snaps.

“Wow, wow, wow, what is going on here?” Osamu asks, as everyone enters the room.

Atsumu launches into an incredibly detailed but somehow in all the wrong ways, play by play of the last three minutes.

“We’re teammates! We’re supposed to move as a unit. Why does no one get that?” he demands.

“Why do teammate rules apply to everyone except you?” Bokuto asks.

And they continue arguing.

The beds are pressed against the corner, along the wall with the door and the wall perpendicular to that. And the desks were on the other side of the room, also on perpendicular walls. There were volleyball, anime, and free university merch posters on the wall, and some photos from their high school volleyball days. Meal plans and physical therapy packets littered the desk, and textbooks piled on the floor. Shorts and hoodies hung across the backs of chairs, and over the side of hampers, though not quite making it in, a university athlete’s representation of the persistence of memory.

Suna pats the bed next to him and you crawl up to sit. Sakusa leans against the bed on the other side of you, almost perched on it.

“Hey,” you say, pleased at the invitation.

He shows you the TikTok he’s editing on his phone. Any series he does with Osamu and Atsumu will go viral, but he’s showing you clips of Bokuto he’s stringing together. You grin at the phone, and at him. He looks at you smugly.

You’re about to say something—you don’t know what, maybe a compliment or an inquiry—when you hear Bokuto stop mid sentence. The room is silent for a few beats too long, and you can no longer say what you hadn't yet thought of to say to Suna. You can barely speak to one person without an audience, so an audience would be terrible. You look up at Bokuto, expectantly, wondering what he is going to say next.

Everyone looks at him as his face contorts, in a range of expressions.

You’re about to ask him what’s wrong, but you find your voice always freezes up in front of so many people. Especially in front of these people.

“Anyway,” Osamu says, before you can build up the courage. Actually, he cuts off whatever Atsumu was going to say as well. The kind of euphoric and spiteful glee on Atsumu’s face could only mean harm—to whom, we do not know.

Maybe it was for the best.

(As long as it’s not harming you. You can’t take much more of this.)

The conversation continues around you.

Fears bubble barely beneath the surface, under your shaky, anxious smile, through the nervous fluttering of your eyelashes. No matter how much you blink, your eyes feel dry. Your eyes feel tired from focusing on something out of your grasp, that you stretch to reach, but your muscles tense in protest. You’ll never get there, and you’re hurting yourself trying.

After seeing how he is with his other friends, you’re surprised Bokuto even remembers you, or even wants to continue to hang out with you. You're surprised you hit it off so well with him in the first place.

His friends are loud and silly and brave and confident. They move with ease. They know where they’re supposed to be. They want to be here, and they are wanted.

Watching from the outside the interactions of a friend group that grew close from a shared experience hit a particular pain point screams from your heart. They flaunt their friendship and their inside jokes and their easy camaraderie, and you feel small, and extraneous, and left behind.

They are not actively antagonizing you. They're not giving you snooty looks, or whispering loudly behind your back, before you even leave the room. They are not inviting you there just to hate you, just to have someone lamer than them to ridicule. They aren’t bullying you. They are nice people. Or at least they seem to be generally minding their own business, which is volleyball, as opposed to trying to hurt someone’s feelings on purpose.

They are loud, and boisterous, and comfortable with interrupting each other, and they roast each other in a way that makes you a little scared. You aren’t that close with these people, and you would take the jokes way too seriously. And even with your closest friends, you would never joke about true insecurities. You would joke about previously established things that are comfortable to joke about, in a loving way, because you love and appreciate your friends, and don’t want to hurt them.

But it seems like roasting is an important part of a friendship, and self roasting is annoying. It takes the fun away from others. It makes you seem insecure (you are). It’s a cry for help (you don’t know what help you need, and you don’t want to ask. You don’t want anyone to know you need help.)

You are sensitive. And you are defensive because you are sensitive. You have to be defensive—you’ll get hurt. You don’t think everyone in the world is that defensive. Some of them don’t need to be. They don’t have to be so protective of themselves, because they have a baseline self esteem that allows them to weather certain things that you can’t.

You can’t be like them. You’re not like them. So, you’re trying to protect yourself.

But not having the right friends for you is painful, too.

You want to do a good job—at what? You don’t know, just in general—and you want to have the fun life you think you deserve, that you think you were promised, as a youth. It’s not fair that everyone else gets to have it, and you don’t.

You’re willing to try. People can’t say that you’re not willing.

You’re not saying you’ll do it perfectly, or even mediocrely, but you’ll try. That doesn’t stop the surmounting pressure from wishing you were perfect, or succeeding. But you want new experiences. You want to learn and grow. You came here for one reason: to be a new person. If you don’t get new experiences, you’ll stay the same person, and there will have been no point to any of this. No point to the pain you experienced in the past and no point to the pain you might experience now.

You wanted to leave your old life behind, and the old you, behind. It wasn’t serving you. It wasn’t fun. You want it to be over.

You’re already here, in this new place, and you are a different person, in some ways. You haven’t been in a situation like this that you can remember. (Maybe you blocked them all out.)

You never really thought of yourself as a shy person, but now that you need to talk to a bunch of strangers who you really want to like you, you’re terrified.

You weren't shy compared to people that were shyer than you—duh. You didn’t have a great sample size. Also you were intimidated by confident people in high school.

You don’t view yourself objectively at all. You saw yourself as “better” than the friends you had in high school—better at talking to people, friendlier, more spontaneous, more outgoing, more free—because you could not bear the thought of you being exactly like how you perceived them. But in reality you really had nothing to look down on them for.

You all had controlling parents. All of you. None of you were allowed to do fun stuff together. In fact, the reality is that they all ended up having experiences together and separately that made up the collage of “classic high school experiences you wished you had”—club trips, competitions, traveling, dating even—it was all in your head, that you were better than them. It was all your views. Your view was wrong. They were objectively living their best lives, and making the best of it, and having fun where and when they could, and you weren’t.

You had to tell yourself you were better than the friends you had in high school because you couldn't bear to be compared to them—you thought everyone viewed them as uninteresting losers, and even if that wasn’t true, they weren’t invited to parties, and they didn’t try to go to them. But you were no better than them. Your lives were basically the same on paper. Except they were happy with their circumstances. They had what they wanted. You didn’t. You were worse off than them.

Now that all of your problems are bubbling at the surface, ready to explode, now that all your faults are waiting to expose themselves, ready to destroy your life, and any possible social connections you might be able to make here, you wait for something to say to emerge in your head. It doesn’t. Half of you is following the conversation, or trying to at least. You don’t understand their slang, and you don’t understand the inside jokes, and you weren’t there for the previous hangouts they remember, and you don’t get all the references they make.

Part of you tells yourself, “what am I even doing here?”

Part of you tells yourself, you need to make your own friend group like this, so that you can have inside jokes and memories to reference later. You don’t want to make anyone else feel like how you’re feeling now, but inadvertently, someone (you) might feel left out if they were hanging out with people who all had similar experiences (them). Is that natural? You don’t blame them. You just wish for things to be different.

Part of you tells yourself you will never be able to make your own friend group like this, you better make this one work.

Part of you tells yourself you will never be able to make this work. You don’t have the social skills. You don’t have the practice. You didn’t get to try “this” out in middle or high school. This—socializing with people different than you. Socializing with people who had time, energy, and freedom to do things together. You don’t have confidence in your skills to navigate social situations. You didn’t get to mess up in low stakes situations (this is a high stakes situation).

This is hopeless.

The other half of you is outside yourself, watching these people have fun and not understanding it. You’re a fly on the wall, you have literally nothing to say. There’s no good time to jump in, and you have no thoughts on any of the subjects they are talking about. You don’t want to say something wrong and stupid, and you don’t want them to explain something basic and bore them, and stall the conversation. You don’t want to be the lull. You don’t want to be the dead weight they’re carrying around out of pity or obligation.

If they stopped inviting you or invited you out of pity, both would hurt.

There didn’t seem to be a clear transition in the conversation, but somehow, Bokuto and Atsumu have arrived at arguing who is the better dancer.

“___________! What do you think?” Atsumu asks.

Bokuto glares at him.

You look at them without answering, and you were maybe right to do so, because Bokuto immediately answers, “they would pick me.”

“I didn’t hear them say that,” Atsumu says.

“Maybe you guys should show them,” Suna says, phone already up and reading for filming.

“Dance battle!” Hinata says excitedly, and turns on some music that sounds vaguely familiar, but you’re not actually sure if you’ve heard it before.

You love watching them dance, but as they tag each other in, and continuously roast each other for their moves, you dread when the attention will be turned on you.

They try to tag you in between, but you keep shaking your head. You’re not ready. (You’ll never be ready.) For now, stalling is the safest thing.

Even Suna is tagged in, which he declines at first, since he is filming. You offer to hold his phone, and he glares at you, not quite handing off the phone to you, but Osamu drags him off the bed, and you scramble to catch the phone. Bokuto takes his place on the bed next to you. Suna sends a lingering look between you and Bokuto before he juts and jitters in the middle of the room, and everyone yells and jeers, and then sits down on the other side of you, in between you and Sakusa.

You’ve never felt cool, popular, or accepted growing up. You’ve had a much different life than what you can assume these popular athletes had in high school, and the life they will probably continue to have in college. These college athletes are young and cool. You are young too, but you don’t know what they are doing. You do not know how to be cool.

You can’t do this.

You feel so bad about yourself. Shame rises, thick coats of sludge crawling under your skin, like swamp monsters emerging from the gunk. Shame about what exactly?—you don’t know exactly what about you is wrong, so you attack everything.

It has to be something, and because you don’t know what it is, nothing is safe.

Why can’t you dance? Why can’t you just know? Why can’t you be cool and likable?

“Come on!” Hinata grins. It’s Hinata, so he couldn't have any ill motives, definitely not towards you, but in this moment, it feels like he’s egging you on. “You can choose the music!”

You shake your head again. You can’t even talk. The panic in your chest rises up and presses against your throat. Your vocal chords are frozen, squeezed. You tell yourself to breathe, but you don’t listen to yourself. You can’t.

“Why are you so shy all of a sudden?” Atsumu asks.

“Just because people don’t want to talk 24/7 doesn’t mean they are shy,” Suna pipes up.

Atsumu looks dismayed. “I didn't mean anything bad by it!”

“You’re annoying, shut up.”

Atsumu splutters dramatically. “Why does no one respect me around here?”

Hinata opens his mouth to protest, and Atsumu snaps, “I know you do.”

“Well, damn, okay,” Hinata says. “I’m sorry I said anything. Or didn’t even get to say anything, because you are so rude.”

Atsumu arches an eyebrow at him. Hinata stares back.

“Regardless, we’ve got to practice our routines for the concert,” Hinata says, seriously.

You almost want to ask if they are the ones performing, but you don't know what you don’t know, and you don’t want to seem stupid, so you don’t say anything. Plus, Bokuto mentioned something about all of them going to a concert at some point, but you remember no details about it. You’re not even sure if you’ve heard of the artists before.

Eventually, they’re all done dancing, they seemed to have moved on finally, and you wish you could say you felt triumphant and safe. You’re safe, but you feel like you’ve lost.

You’ve lost something you can never get back.

Bokuto grabs your arm.

“Hey I think I left my phone in the common room. Will you come with me to get it?”

For some reason this request dislodges something inside you. You were not expecting it. “Uh. Yeah, sure.”

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t game time,” Atsumu slides his accusation in like someone kicking down a door.

“Make sure you stop and smell the roses!” Hinata cries, his voice practically already tossing rose petals at you, with sparkles and bubbles to boot.

“Make sure Bokuto gives you one,” Osamu instructs.

“Our hallway is Paris themed,” Hinata says. “Maybe you could stop by there?”

You blink, more confused than ever.

“You know,” Hinata says.

“The hallway of love?” Osamu asks.

Bokuto hops off the bed and presents his hand to you, to help you down, which you take without thinking, and somehow, the silence that follows is the deadliest roast of all.

What have you done?

You and Bokuto step out of the room, to Suna’s faint, and dull, “have fun.”

You are pretty sure you saw Bokuto put his phone on the charger in his room, but you don’t think of that until after both of you are out the door and walking down the hallway.

You get the sense that you are being taken to the principal’s office, but that is ridiculous, and you make sure to not say that thought out loud. What are you even in trouble for anyway? Why does your brain do this.

You look up at him, searching for a clue as to what this is.

“How are you doing?” Bokuto asks.

“I’m okay,” you lie.

“Okay.” Bokuto side eyes you. He looks like he’s going to accuse you or press you for more. But he takes a detour first. “I’m happy we’re all spending more time together.”

“Me, too,” you say.

“I’m glad my friends haven’t scared you away yet.”

“Yeah,” you say. You feel like a failure. You just want to be normal. You just want to meet Bokuto’s friends and make a good first impression—and second, and third.

But you can’t.

You never figured out how to. You never practiced, so now that the stakes are high—you want Bokuto to like you so much, you want his friends to like you so much. You want this all so much.

You want things to be different from your past so much.

But you can’t magically be a different person.

“Are they bothering you?” Bokuto asks. He almost hiccups on his words when he asks, “Am I bothering you?”

You shake your head.

“Okay. If any of us were making you uncomfortable, would you tell me?” Bokuto asks. “Or tell someone?”

“You guys aren’t making me uncomfortable,” you whisper. “I’m just always uncomfortable.”

“Why?”

“Social anxiety.”

There. You said it. You’re fucked up, and you put a label on it, and now everyone knows. If they didn’t already know, for some silly reason. But they all have eyes, so you’re sure they all know.

Bokuto looks at you with pity. It could be concern or something diferent. But how are you supposed to know? “I would have never guessed that.”

You glare at him accusingly.

“Seriously!” he says.

“I am so awkward,” you state.

He shrugs. “I don’t really notice,” he says. “Not more than anyone else.”

“No one you know is awkward,” you say.

He scoffs. “Really? Literally all of them are awkward.”

“You can’t just apply awkward to everyone. It has a meaning,” you say, defensively. You’re weird. And not cool weird. Not acceptable weird. You’re just weird. You're surprised you tricked Bokuto into liking you.

That’s what’s sad, and scary—at the end of the day, Bokuto could wake up from this spell at any moment, and leave you.

That’s what this is all about. You just don’t want to be alone. You really do like Bokuto as an individual. But you also don’t want to be alone.

“You think they are cool?” Bokuto asks incredulously. “They are not cool.”

You restrain yourself from scoffing or rolling your eyes. “That’s what cool people would say,” you point out gently, and dully.

“You’re cool.”

You don’t know why he’s not getting it. “I’m not cool,” you correct him. “I like you.”

You look up at him, with eyes threatening to water. You don't want to say “I have no idea why.” That’s how you feel. You already feel so negative, and they are having so much fun and you aren’t. You’re different. You’re stupid and awful and a failure, and you wish you could just have fun in a normal way like everyone else. And not be so scared and upset all the time.

“I should just go.”

Bokuto looks alarmed. “Okay.” Bokuto says, but he doesn’t look okay with that. “I wish I could make it better. But I know I can’t, at least not magically, or easily. And I know you’re probably going through things I don’t understand. Or just don’t know yet about you, since we’re still getting to know each other, and stuff. I want you to do what’s right for you. But I don’t want you to go. And I want to be there for you.” He blurts out the ending. His hand jerks in an aborted motion.

You want to reach out and grab his hand.

“I just. I’m not having fun.”

He sighs, and looks up at the ceiling, exasperated. “I’m sorry my friends are boring. They’re so stupid. What would be fun for us to do that you would also want to do, if we all hung out together?”

“No. Like.” You don’t know how to explain that his friends are fun, you want to have fun doing the things they are doing. You want to go to sports games, and you want to go dancing, and you want to go to parties.

You’ve just never done those things before. You’ve had nowhere to practice. And now you have to do it for the first time in front of people you really want to impress.

You want them to like you. You want them to accept you.

It’s so much pressure.

“You are way cooler than them,” Bokuto adds, infuriatingly.

“That is not true,” you say. It is imperative that Bokuto understands reality. You don’t want him to say stupid stuff because he thinks it might make you feel better. You don’t want him to lie to you. “But thank you,” you say, because you don’t know Bokuto to be a liar. He might legitimately think you are cool.

Which is literally insane, but.

Why else would he be friends with you?

You aren’t comfortable with that line of reasoning, so you need to jump ship immediately. You study Bokuto’s face, in case anything interesting or more dramatic is happening in the moment, than what is happening in your head.

Bokuto looks at you like you’re crazy, but he doesn’t want to invalidate your feelings. But still. He does not agree with you at all. He doesn’t want to lose this argument, but he also doesn’t want to lose sight of the overarching point of this conversation. He needs to stay focused. “How are you defining cool?”

“Socially accepted. Everyone likes them.”

“Atsumu is very divisive,” Bokuto pipes up.

“That’s a feature, not a bug.”

Bokuto bursts out with a savage, sharp sound, and you look over to him in surprise. You don’t remember that exact kind of laugh coming from Bokuto before. You feel a deep, lingering sense of pride. You slurp it up. You want to slather the feeling all over you. You never want to forget this. You want this to mean something. You wish it could mean something (something permanent).

He looks at you in momentary embarrassment.

“I can’t with you,” he says with a grin.

You smile back at him, genuinely pleased.

And the insecurities swoop in to make sure you aren’t enjoying anything, to make sure you’re not having a good time, because it’s not safe to do those things. It’s not safe to let your guard down. And also having fun isn’t for you. That’s not allowed. Those were the rules you grew up with. That was your understanding. Other people had fun, but they were allowed—they had different rules, so it was okay for them. People had different rules. People were raised differently. You don’t know why the world is that way. It seems unfair but you have no one you can complain about that to. No one will listen to you. Maybe no one on earth has control over that.

The truth is you like hanging out with Bokuto. The truth is you want to monopolize his time. The truth is you wish you could hang out with him more. The truth is you wish he would pick you. The truth is you want to be his favorite.

You cannot express any of this to anybody. You don’t want to be creepy, you don’t want to be possessive.

You want a friend. You want to matter. You want to feel safe, and liked, and accepted.

You want social connection.

You hate how attached you are to him. He has so many friends. He’s not going to have time for you.

But he still made time for you. He still invited you to hang out with his friends.

But that’s just because he is nice.

He is so nice.

You hate when people are popular and nice. It’s like please, pick a lane.

You’re honestly the mean one in this situation. Not that you would actively be mean to other people or put them down. But that rule doesn’t apply to how you treat yourself.

“He’s a goofy dancer,” Bokuto continues.

You cannot ever tell Bokuto that you think all of his friends are attractive. Not as attractive as Bokuto. But almost as attractive.

You nod.

“What are you thinking about?” Bokuto asks.

You shrug.

He elbows you gently.

“I don’t want to inconvenience you,” you say.

“You aren’t,” he says. “If dancing is not your thing, it’s fine,” Bokuto says. “We can tell them to fuck off.”

You are startled. You don’t know what to say.

“Tell who to fuck off?”

You stiffen. Oh, no, no, no. You turn around.

The gaggle of boys left the room, and are approaching you.

“We missed you,” Hinata says.

“Aww,” Bokuto coos, but Hinata was obviously looking directly at you.

You stare at him, bashful and pleased. You want to believe this.

“Why is Bokuto hogging you all to himself?” Hinata asks.

“You came to visit me in the first place, right?” Atsumu asks.

Bokuto gapes at them.

“Guys,” he starts.

“We wanted to know what was wrong,” Hinata says.

“Were we making you uncomfortable?” Osamu asks.

You were very uncomfortable. But is it their fault? You wish it was that simple. You are the fuck up here, not them.

“You need to stop pressuring people,” Sakusa says. “You guys are stupid.”

“Maybe you need to get to know them more before you dance in front of them? Dancing is a scary thing,” Bokuto says.

“Art is a vulnerable thing to do in front of strangers. That’s perfectly understandable,” Sakusa says.

“Art needs to be shared! We’re all friends here!” Atsumu exclaims.

“What you’re doing isn’t art!” Sakusa snaps.

Atsumu gapes. “Hey! Don’t gatekeep art from me!”

“Let’s see some fucking art, then we’ll talk!”

“Too Cool To Dance Over Here, am I right?” Atsumu glares.

“As is _____,” Suna adds.

“Don’t drag me into this,” you hiss.

“You will get into this,” Atsumu slams his fist into this other palm. “One way or another, we will bring you down to our level.”

“Don’t let them,” Sakusa whispers.

“As if you aren’t already scraping the bottom of the barrel with us,” Suna says.

“Don’t you love his sunny disposition?” Atsumu preens.

You nod.

“Don’t encourage him! If he’s bothering you, you need to speak up. If any of us are acting stupid, you need to tell us,” Atsumu demands.

You scoff and shake your head.

“What’s that about?” Osamu asks.

“I’m new here,” you say. “I can’t possibly tell you guys how to act.”

“But we want to treat you how you want to be treated,” Bokuto says.

You side eye him. And also try not to cry. It is such a simple statement, something people learn in elementary school. You never want to inconvenience people. If you are too much of a burden, too much trouble, why would anyone be friends with you? They could just hang out with someone easier to deal with. Over time, you were always concerned with making sure no one is ever mad at you, but you never thought that statement applied to you. Weird!

“I can’t say that,” you whimper.

“You must,” Atsumu pats your back gently. “You’ll get better at it! You can practice with me!”

“He’s offering to annoy you, so you can tell him to shut up,” Osamu says. “I wouldn't take the deal, though.”

You and Atsumu gape at each other.

“Yeah, maybe not that plan,” Hinata says. “But it’s okay if you’re shy!! They’re all so scary the first time you meet them! I was terrified of them when I first met them!” Hinata explains.

“Wait, really?” you look at him, hope lurching in your chest.

“Yeah!” Hinata grins. “But once you get to know them, they’re awesome!”

“They’re just fine,” Sakusa corrects.

“They’re okay,” Suna adds.

“Guys, please,” Bokuto pleads.

“Mostly, they’re stupid,” Osamu says.

Bokuto glares at them.

You’re grateful for Hinata. You are shocked that someone so brave and happy could ever be afraid of anyone.

You’re grateful for all of them. This is all so much and is not making any sense, but maybe you could accept the kindness, just this once? As uncomfortable as it is, this would be something new. A new experience to add to your collection. You’re on your way to being a different and better person. With their help. Accepting help is okay.

Too many new things at once. You want to abort the mission right away, but you take a deep breath. You’re safe here, you’re pretty sure. You trust them. If you stay in the discomfort for just a little longer, something really amazing could come from it. (It already has.)

“So, anyway, you’ll come back to the room with us?” Hinata asks.

“I’m hungry,” Atsumu says.

“Oh, wait, me too,” Hinata looks at him in awe.

“Okay, so we’re all going to eat together?” Osamu asks.

“What do you want to eat?” Hinata asks.

“Run away now, you don’t want to be here for this,” Sakusa says.

“I’m going wherever ___ wants to eat,” Bokuto states.

“Okay, so I guess that means we’re all going there,” Osamu chuckles.

“Why can’t we be together all the time, forever?” Hinata sighs.

“You need to take a nap, codependent-ass,” Sakusa snaps.

“Can you let someone say something nice and cute and exaggerated without going all PhD, Dr. Sakusa?” Atsumu groans.

Sakusa of course does not dignify that with a response.

You all decide on a place together to eat, and start to head over there. You almost forget to grab your student ID from the front desk. You are about to confidently walk out the door, even though everyone else who checked in already was waiting at the desk. They giggle at you, roast you, and you grin sheepishly at them. It’s not so bad, this time around.

“Why don’t you hold my hand when you’re uncomfortable?” Bokuto exclaims, when you're all out the door together, on your way. “Take baby steps. We can all help you speak up.”

“He just wants you to hold his hand, don’t listen to him,” Atsumu informs you, like he’s made a deduction in his mind palace.

“You can hold any of our hands,” Hinata offers.

“No!” Bokuto cries.

Hinata blinks at him innocently. “Why not?”

“Just text me, and we’ll leave, whenever they get annoying,” Sakusa says.

“Why do they have to text you? You can text me, too,” Osamu says.

“You don’t have to text me, you can say it to my face, and to all of their faces, and we will still leave,” Atsumu says.

“Literally none of you have their number,” Suna says.

They all turn to look at you, a wall circling around you.

You look around, grateful, scared, and literally waffling back and forth between being about to cry and not.

“_____,” Atsumu begins, handing you their phone.

“Just make a group chat with ____ and everyone can add their number from that,” Sakusa says.

“Wow, that’s so smart,” Hinata says.

“I guess he really does have a PhD,” Atsumu says.

“I am concerned with what kinds of things you guys are impressed with,” Sakusa says.

Bokuto is in charge of making the group chat. You watch him stare at his phone. He catches your gaze over his phone and grins at you. You smile back. You’re lucky to have found such a sweet and caring friend group. Maybe the stakes aren’t as high as you thought. Or maybe they are, but you’re already here. You’ve already won. Clearly they already like you. If they really didn’t want you there, they wouldn't invite you. (Maybe Bokuto wants you there, and they all like Bokuto, but they don’t like you, and they let you stay as a favor to Bokuto? What’s the worst case scenario? But now, that doesn’t seem likely.) It’s a lot safer of an environment in which to practice all your deficiencies than you originally thought.

Maybe things are okay.

That’s also not something you're used to thinking, but it’s something you can start practicing now.

And you are grateful for that.

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