#will straight up wander the fuck off during an intense decision moment to go climb up a tower with nothing at the top

[noahlivingston]

"morality serenoa" this "utility serenoa" that no actually the most correct and canon characterization of serenoa no matter what choices u make is that he's a little freak

[trashfor-imagines]

The Music Series: Haikyū!! Edition! | 6

A LITTLE MESSED UP ft. Bokuto x Reader

Summary: Short story: You’re the life of the party, but sometimes you accidentally on purpose get out of hand and surprisingly Bokuto’s always chooses to take care of you. Warnings: Alcohol. Smoking. Drunk behavior.

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Music blared loudly through the bar. The band playing had a bit of a pop vibe to them that made everyone dance around. It was a Friday night which meant konpa. This was a tradition your friend group participated in on almost a weekly basis, barring exam time. It was different than a traditional konpa. Instead of an izakaya, the group, fluctuating anywhere between twenty to forty people, frequented the same seedy little bar in Shinjuku where the only five employees were friends of someone in the group. It was known for having live musicians, usually in the indie, DIY, punk genre and being frequented by mainly college students. Everyone loved listening to loud music to let off steam.

You had a particularly difficult week and had been looking forward to getting absolutely smashed. You’d gotten some scathing remarks on a review you’d written from your Classical Literature professor that was pretty crushing and your boss at the publishing company you worked at went in on you for not being more available - despite having explained twice already that you were an active college student. Then there was the fact your mother wouldn’t stop calling you just to chat and your next door neighbor was an old woman who lived alone and seemed to always need help with something and your big old heart just couldn’t say no to either woman. Honestly you were constantly running out of spoons and you wanted someone to take care of you.

Drinking game after drinking game, you played them all. Win or lose, as long as you were having a good time, you didn’t care. It was past midnight now and trains had long stopped running. You were dancing in circles with a group of girls you knew, arms in the air and bouncing rhythmically to the beat. Opening your eyes, you scanned the blurry sea of faces around you. You didn’t see him so you just keep dancing. It wasn’t until the band stopped playing and house music played, did you make your way over to the bar to order a beer.

Blowing the bartender - a boy you had classes with a few times - a kiss, you took the glass bottle with you as you meandered to the small enclosed back patio. It was deserted save for a person who was headed back in. You made a motion with your fingers to your lips and he passed you a cigarette before disappearing inside, the shutting of the door barely muffling the sounds of music and partiers. You stepped onto the bench carefully, sitting down on the back of it. The cigarette sat between your lips and you closed your eyes, feeling the cool night breeze that rushed through the city’s alleyways. Tonight was a great night. Tomorrow morning not so much. Your brows suddenly furrowed, realizing you didn’t have a lighter. A blast of music signaled that someone had just joined you.

Opening an eye, you couldn’t help the blush and lazy smile that appeared on your face upon seeing the man before you staring at you with a familiar and intense gaze. He was definitely drunk. Bokuto Kotarou was two types of drunk. First he was a charismatically loud and fun drunk, and if you got enough drinks in him, he would become serious and if he had his eyes on you, completely romantic and passionate.

Reaching up, he plucked the stick from your lips and placed it between his own. Slowly he reached into his pocket and pulled out a matchbook, fumbling slightly until he could light it. He stomped out the match, taking a single drag of the smoke before giving it back to you.

“It’s bad for you.”

“Then don’t enable me,” you replied, taking a drag.

“Like I could say no to you,” he scoffed, turning to sit down on the bench and carefully inserting himself between your legs. He pulled your legs over his strong shoulders and relaxed, gripping your thighs to keep you from accidentally falling backwards.

“Bokuto, take me home,” you whispered.

“In a little bit. It’s only two. Since it’s almost the end of their shift, the guys want to play a few more drinking games with the staff before we go.”

Finishing your beer and cigarette, you and Bokuto walked back inside and sat on the couches where the drinking crew sat. After several rounds of Pin-Pon-Pan, you were officially thrashed and could hardly keep up. Your owlish savior excused you for the night and the two started the long trek home across Tokyo to his apartment. He had switched beer out for water long ago, lying and saying it was vodka every time you asked him. You were quite the difficult to handle type of drunk, constantly side tracked and absolutely bratty, full of demands. Despite it having been two years since the two of you met, you hardly changed from when you first met.

A boy you knew from one class had brought Bokuto to the third ever konpa your freshman year of college. There was almost an immediate spark and the two of you were all over each other, even going to his apartment afterwards. The morning after, you didn’t stick around and disappeared. He came to the next konpa, the same thing happened, and the two of you agreed that as long as you were both into it and were single, this could keep happening. The rest was history after that, and that’s how Bokuto became your weekly dick appointment.

You still caused this man the same problems as always. Bokuto, however, matured in a sense. It depended on the situation really, but he was more serious about certain things, like his career. He decided he wasn’t going to finish college. Instead, he was going to try out for the Black Jackals after this semester. He remembered how after he told you his decision, you had acted quite recklessly at the following konpa, more so than usual. You had said some nasty things to him, kissed a stranger, and had been such a nightmare that friends asked why he even bothered with you. He simply smiled at them and, when you passed out in a booth, took you home and put you to bed. That’s what confirmed to him that you cared about him and this realization made him feel even more strongly about you.

“Bokuto, why don’t you fix your roots?” you asked, reaching up to touch his hair. At first he attempted to swat your hand away before finally lacing his fingers with yours, trying to keep you from falling behind.

“What’s wrong with my hair?”

“Let me fix it for you. It was so cute when it was growing out.” Your free hand joined your intertwined ones, gently grasping onto his wrist. Pressing your lips to his bicep, you peered up at him. He was so handsome and tall and-

Looking down he smiled at you. “I’ll think about it.”

You grinned and your gaze wandered past him to the store window and your eyes widened, a burst of energy escaping you as you pulled him over, wanting a better look at the dress in the window. “Look how cute it is. Do you think it’d suit me?”

He watched as your eyes sparkled and he couldn’t help smirking at you. “You look good with or without clothes. Doesn’t matter what you’re wearing.”

You narrowed your eyes and playfully slapped at his shoulder. “You dog.” Looking back at the dress, you sighed, “This store’s so expensive. Let’s go.”

The two of you continued on your way. It had barely been another fifteen minutes when Bokuto realized he was basically dragging you. He sighed, realizing you were getting exhausted. Peering back at you over his shoulder, he stopped walking, casting his gaze upward as if to ask God why. Your eyes were closed, head tilted back.

Opening one eye, you smiled at him. “Piggyback, please.”

“Come on, (Y/N), I’m tired too,” he pouted.

Stomping your feet you frowned at him, “I said please though!”

He sighed and squatted down enough for you to hop onto his back. “You’re lucky I love you.”

“No, you don’t,” you replied dismissively, climbing on.

Bokuto reached back and gave your ass and firm slap before standing up straight. “If I didn’t, then how do you explain why I always put up with your nonsense?”

“I hate you,” you pouted, resting your chin on his shoulder.

He sighed, "When are you going to finally admit you love me?”

“When you mean it,” you mumbled.

“Silly girl, don’t you know I mean it every time?”

By the time you made it to his apartment, you had sobered quite a bit. The two of you cuddled up on the couch in your underwear, making out and watching Japanese game shows between intimate physical moments and sweet whispers. You didn’t want to bring it up, but you’d been thinking of what he said when he was carrying you the entire time. Don’t you know I mean it every time? It was hard for you to digest.

He was a very honest guy, but you spent years digging in your heels when it came to having feelings for him and becoming anything other than friends-with-benefits. You remembered he hadn’t been mature or serious enough for you when you first met. He was that fun guy; the one you fooled around with, not married. You had been nursing a broken heart from a high school sweetheart at the time as well, deciding that you weren’t ready yet and you certainly weren’t going to date the first guy you slept with after your break up.

But you weren’t broken hearted about that boy anymore, and he wasn’t an immature goofball anymore. For the first time, during the span of knowing him, you opened your eyes that night and re-evaluated him; how he always seemed to be the one to take care of you, how whenever you freaked out on him he stayed by your side. Bokuto was always there for every meltdown and he was always the one you thought of when you needed someone to help you fix your problems. It’s why you can’t stand the idea of him leaving school for pro-volleyball. It feels like he's leaving you and... You never want to be without him.

Oh fuck.

Like clockwork, you woke up first with strong arms wrapped around you. Stretching out, you carefully slipped from his grasp. He slept like a log for the most part so it wasn’t difficult to make your morning after escape. You managed to shower, find the aspirin, and make a pot of coffee before you headed home. Setting some aspirin and a glass of water on his nightstand, you took a marker from his desk and wrote on his hand before pulling on your clothes as you walked out the door.

Several hours passed before Bokuto awoke. Groaning, he turned to his side and saw the empty space where you’d been and sighed. Just once he wished you’d actually stay long enough for him to wake up to you. As he reached up to rub his face, he paused at seeing the black marks on his hand. Fully opening his palm, he stared in disbelief.

I love you.

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tag list: @hihiq​