Not many people know Kotaro’s weaknesses. You belong to that tiny circle who know at least thirty of them. Maybe even more.
ㅤㅤTake his neck, for example.
He loses his mind when you settle into his lap and take full control, burying your nose in the crook of his neck, gently nipping at the sensitive skin. Then you soothe the spot with a slow, apologetic swipe of your tongue. Afterward, he’s left hiding your deep crimson marks beneath the raised collar of his uniform shirt. And asking for more.
ㅤㅤOr the strong muscles of his back.
When your nails graze the bare, sensitive skin, Bokuto is ready to growl from sheer pleasure. Your practiced touch brings blissful relief to his post-training tension. At every chance, the volleyball player would peel off his shirt and pull you into his lap, whining like a puppy.
ㅤㅤMaybe his lips, too. Yes.
Your kisses are, perhaps, his greatest weakness of all. The way you kiss—he couldn’t describe it in words if he tried. Bokuto melts like sugar when he presses you against a wall and pulls you into a long, breathless kiss.
ㅤ“How do you do that, Y\N?” he asks, loud and sudden as always, catching you off guard as he pins you to the tree trunk by your porch.
“Do what?” you feign innocence, trailing your fingers lightly across his cheek.
ㅤㅤ“You always… make me weak.”
