BottsumuWeek2025
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“Bokuto—”
“Tell me,” he murmured against his skin, his breath hot.“Touch me… please” Atsumu whined.
Bokuto grinned, licking a slow stripe up the length of Atsumu’s cock, savoring the way his hips jerked, the way his thighs trembled when he took him fully into his mouth. Atsumu’s groan was ragged, fingers tangling in Bokuto’s wild hair as he worked him with lips and tongue, slow then relentless, until Atsumu was panting, writhing, begging, hips bucking off the bed.
But… Bokuto pulled away just as his breathing fractured, pressing a kiss to the head of his cock before trailing lower to kiss down the length of Atsumu’s legs; the curve of his knee, the ridge of his shin, the arch of his foot… before taking one toe into his mouth, sucking lightly just to hear Atsumu’s disbelieving laugh. “The hell—”
“Every part,” Bokuto said, his voice rough with barely suppressed desire. “I want every part of you, ‘Tsumu.”
OR.
When Kenma and Kuroo only had to see Bokuto and Atsumu pining for each other ONE TIME before they decided to intervene.Series
- Part 1 of BottsumuWeek2025
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Bokuto strolled casually into the library, his hand closing around the thin strap of leather he used in binding his clothes and hair when he was out at war, and set it on the desk between them.
Atsumu’s gaze dropped to it, then his lips twitched. “Yer serious.”
“I don’t joke,” Bokuto responds.
Atsumu picked the rope up, running his thumb over the worn surface. He was quiet for longer than usual, then stood to pace around the desk. When he finally spoke, his tone was sharp like usual, as if he was trying to hide that he had already decided. “And what —ya just tie me up and that’s it?”
“You don’t get to decide what’s it,” Bokuto replied quietly. “you agree, you let me decide… You’re the one who insisted on paying a debt that didn’t exist in the first place.”
That bluntness hung in the air. Atsumu’s chest rose and fell, his eyes narrowing in thought but he didn’t move to leave or protest. Instead, he held out both wrists and whispered, “okay then … you decide.”
OR:
How the rude and unbending chief courtier finally learned how to bend, with the help of the war general.Series
- Part 2 of BottsumuWeek2025
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Bokuto had weighed the options fast. Calling it in was impossible. The first 24 hours after a mission was compromised, it was best to allow command smoke out the mole —that’s assuming the compromise wasn’t deliberate— and making calls was the fastest way to ruin everything. One slip would bring a squad down on them in minutes and requesting medical support was out of the question —Command was miles away and their enemies were closer.
Containment was the only option.
And containment, in this case, meant Atsumu in his lap —stuffed full, trembling, his hole clinging to him like it was the only thing that mattered right now.
OR
There are worse ways for a mission to be compromised than being stuck balls-deep in your omega partner. Mission report: safehouse compromised, water drugged, omega fucked stupid. (No regrets.)
Series
- Part 3 of BottsumuWeek2025
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Bokuto’s hot breath ghosted Atsumu’s ear as he leaned over him, voice a gravelly growl that pinned Atsumu down as much as the fingers tangled in his hair did. “Listen to you… moaning like a good little slut. This what you wanted when you kept running your mouth, wasn’t it? For me to put you in your place.”
Atsumu whined, nodding frantically, thighs trembling under the force of Bokuto’s thrusts. His cock swung between his thighs from the impact of those reckless thrusts, palms slipping against the tile and having to brace himself to avoid slipping onto the floor. His moans morphed into desperate whimpers and mewls when a slight shift in angle brought the head of Bokuto’s cock in direct contact with his prostate. “Fuck! Kou—!”
“That’s it. Take it. Don’t hold back,” Bokuto rasped, driving deeper, his abs brushing Atsumu’s back with each movement. “No one fucks you like I do. Say it.”
Atsumu’s voice broke into a breathless plea. “N–no one… no one like you.”
OR
In which Bokuto and Atsumu turn bickering into foreplay, again, and again, and again.Series
- Part 4 of BottsumuWeek2025
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The sound that tore from Atsumu’s throat was half-gasp, half-broken moan. His fingers curled into fists, forehead pressing hard into the dirt as he twisted to glance back., his gaze locking with Bokuto’s golden orbs.
The monster’s face was buried in his ass, mouth pressed obscenely against his spread rim with his tongue working with a deliberate, hungry focus, and yet those golden eyes still pinned Atsumu in place.
Something about it— about seeing the proud, untouchable monster of the forest with his mouth open and his tongue buried between his cheeks— sent a shudder of sinful pleasure ripping through his body, his thighs quivering in Bokuto’s grip as his earlier protests stuttered into a weak whimper.
OR.
The one where Atsumu goes on a hiking trip to clear his head and came back home with more things on his mind... and his body.Series
- Part 5 of BottsumuWeek2025
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When they reached the shadowed upper landing, he pressed Atsumu’s back against the cold wall, crowding into his space with all the pent-up intensity that had been simmering since the first meeting. Atsumu gasped, head knocking softly against plaster and eyes wide as Bokuto’s hand came up to cage his jaw.
“You have any idea what you just did down there?” Bokuto muttered, a hand sliding under Atsumu’s shirt, dragging up hard against the ridges of his stomach.
Atsumu shuddered, his mouth opening. “I was— performin’, Bokuto-san, what else—”
“You were appealing.” Bokuto’s teeth grazed the shell of his ear. “Every time you opened your mouth, every line… you begged them to look at you. And they did. They gave you everything you wanted… that attention… you love that, don’t you?”
Atsumu gasped, already pressing back against Bokuto, his cock straining against his pants. “I— fuck, I did love it.” he finally put the euphoria to words.
OR
How a six-month rehearsal turned into the longest foreplay of Atsumu’s life.
Series
- Part 6 of BottsumuWeek2025
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“Still sore?” Bokuto murmured against Atsumu's neck.
“Everywhere,” Atsumu admitted, voice hitching when Bokuto’s thumbs dug gently into his thighs. “But in a good way. Like I’m… I dunno… being reminded of you.”
Bokuto pressed another kiss to the curve of his shoulder, his voice low. “Can I remind you some more tonight?”
Atsumu shivered under the heat of the water, nodding without hesitation.
OR
How a rainy day, some well-deserved rest, and being spoiled became the real climax of the week.
Series
- Part 7 of BottsumuWeek2025