Bokuto Scenarios - Tumblr Posts

I feel like bokuto would be the type of guy to race your kids to see who hugs you first and would tear up a little if they won.(my first post it’s short and sweet🥰)

𝐇𝐐 𝐁𝐎𝐘𝐒 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐎 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐆𝐑𝐎𝐖𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐇𝐀𝐈𝐑 𝐎𝐔𝐓

ಌ including: s. hinata, r. suna, k. bokuto x fem!reader

ಌ genre : fluff

pov: ariana grande

summary: after being away for games, they fly back early to surprise their lovely s/o. To find a beautiful sight of your hair now reaching past your shoulders.

#- SHOYOU

As you went to hug sho he just stood there looking at your new length, "Whats up sho? Got jetlag?" You teased, before waving you hand infront of his face. "Sorry babe its just..your hair looks so pretty..not to say I didn't like it before its just. I like it." You giggled at his rambling, kissing the ginger's cheek leaving a light mark of your tinted lipgloss. "Thanks baby, I decided to try sumthin new. I'm glad you like it." You said, smiling softly, "Of course I like it! Does that mean I can braid your hair now?"

"Sure sho."

#- RINTARO

Rin sneaked into your shared apartment, planning to sneak up and scare you, that was until he found you tending to your curls before bed. Your hair that was first at the top of your shoulders, now surpassing them. "Woah! Oh my god, rin you scared me!" You exclaimed, looking up in the mirror to see the tall middle blocker. Turning around you punched his arm before hugging his side, "Like my hair? It took a little while to grow out, but luckily my hair kinda grows fast." You explained, feeling your boyfriends finger curl around a strand of your hair.

"Its cute, you should let it grow out more. Then I can put those clips in your hair."

"wait rin, those are the kiddy ones-"

"I know."

#- KOUTARO

After you drove Kou from the airport, it was nearing 10pm and all you both wanted to do was watch a disney movie and cuddle while eating take out. So while Kou was waiting for you to join him in bed, he caught a glimpse of you taking your hair out from the original ponytail that it was in. Letting your hair fall to the middle of your back, "Woah baby! Did I miss a few months?" You rolled your eyes smiling, turning the bathroom light off as you left.

"No kou, I was just using that new shampoo you bought me. I Guess after a couple of weeks my hair ended up like this." Muttering a soft oh, he pulled you gently into the bed. "I'll just have to buy more for you then. You look pretty." He stated, hearing the sleep in his voice as he kissed your cheek.

𝐇𝐐 𝐌𝐎𝐒𝐓 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐌𝐎𝐍 𝐑𝐄𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐏 𝐃𝐘𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐂𝐒 !

ಌ including : k bokuto, k. kenma x fem!reader

ಌ genre: fluff

ಌ summary: what relationship dynamics the hq boys would mostly be in!

part one . part three

say it right: nelly furtado

ع˖⁺. KOUTARO

-`ღ´- lovey dovey golden retriever bf x cuddly introvert gf

there's no surprise that Kou lives for psychical touch, and would definitely make that known in a relationship. I can see ko ordering for his gf at restaurants and holding her hand at all times to keep close and also bc psychical touch <33 Also imagining Kou with his s/o and feeling her tug on his sleeve would just make his heart melt, focusing all his attention on her.

-`ღ´- man child bf x responsible gf

also a common relationship I see alot with kou (in works), because its true. Kou would definitely need someone to bring him back to earth and out of the clouds, he's legit like a golden retriever omg. Especially in his emo moments, he would need a reassuring voice to kiss his face and love on him just enough to get him back into the game

-`ღ´- hyper bf x hyper gf

however, while kou does need someone to bring him back to earth, he also needs someone who can stay on his level of energy. I can see kou and his s/o going batshit crazy on a chuck-e cheese. Someone who can stay up to 2-3am with ease before clocking out together at 3:30 from exhaustion.

ع˖⁺. KENMA

-`ღ´- calm monster chugging gaming bf x sleepy gamer gf

we all know kenma isn't going to sleep at 10pm or 11:30 he's gaming until he hears birds chirping, that is if you didn't pull him away from his screens to go to bed at 3am. One of his favorite things is when he wants to spend time with his gf but wants to game is to have his s/o sit on his lap teddybear style while playing animal crossing.

-`ღ´- sweet energetic gf x 5'6 i'll fuck you up if you make her cry bf

as much as kenma keeps to himself much like a cat he can be protective, so don't be surprised when the guy that once was asking for your number made up some excuse to get away. It was simply kenma giving that guy a heavy stare. And when you ask him about it he'll blush lightly saying, "I didn't like how he was looking at you."

-`ღ´- sarcastic to everyone but sweet to her bf x has no idea he acts different with his friends gf

we also know how much kenma hates his friends teasing him, so thats why he is less affectionate in public especially at practice. But he knows that your a very affectionate person, so he'll be in mid conversation with kuroo before giving you his nintendo while giving you a kiss as you pass by. "Don't even." "Look at youu, wait a second how come I don't get to use your nintendo-" "Because you can't."

IM GONNA SOB PLEASE MY GOD I LOVE THIS 😩 DIDNT KNOW I COULD BOKUTO MORE BUT-

[10:38 PM] DANIELA & BOKUTO’S MOMENT

I’LL TAKE YOU WHERE YOU WANNA BE TONIGHT

the veins in his left hand bulged slightly as he gripped the steering wheel, desperately trying to keep his eyes on the road while simultaneously trying to serenade you. his right hand clutched yours, bringing it up to his mouth occasionally as a microphone. his hair was messy and down, still a little damp from his shower. he had come home from practice a little upset, his line shots weren’t landing the way he wanted them to. so he grabbed your hand and asked you to go for a drive with him, just wanting to clear his head. so here you were, cruising down a random street while he belted out the lyrics to you. he glances over, making sure your smile is just as big as his. he brings your hand up to his mouth, pressing a kiss to it as he stares forwards at the road. “i love you.” he laughs a bit as he speaks, his earlier demeanour nowhere to be seen as he exudes a happiness you’ve never seen before. he usually didn’t bounce back so quickly, typically taking at least a couple hours to sort through his emotions. but there was just something different going on tonight. maybe it was the way you didn’t even hesitate for a second when he asked you to come with him, maybe it was the smile on your face as he sung to you, or maybe it was those words you said to him when he got home, “i’m still proud of you.” it was probably a combination of all three, and the knowing. knowing he’s never going to have a girl like you ever again.

for :: @kim-jonginism still cannot tag you </3 but i hope you like :’) i had fun writing this i think it’s cute so i hope you do too !! :) also bo looks so feral in this picture but i just had to use it. <3

okay but thigh riding bokuto’s THICK SCRUMPTIOUS THIGHS

bokuto x gn!reader • nsfw

bokuto loves when you ride his thigh.

he loves watching you move your hips desperately as you get closer and closer to your release. he loves the feeling of your hands digging into him as you cling onto him wherever you can––his hair, his neck, his shoulders as you whimper and shake on top of him, burying your face in the crook of his neck.

"that's it baby, use me. wanna see you cum for me, okay?"

“so pretty for me”

his hands are gripping your hips as he practically moves you along his thigh himself, bouncing and flexing his leg to give you more pleasure. he's panting and moaning along with you, as if he's getting as much pleasure from the experience as you are.

he lets you hide for a bit but when he gets too needy, he pulls you back and desperately kisses you, sliding his tongue into your mouth passionately as he moans against you, his hands still moving you back and forth as you ride out your high.

you bring up one of his insecurities during a fight

pairing: gn!reader x kōtarō bokuto

warnings: y/n is kind of a biotch ngl lol but hurt to comfort yktv

it’s been thirty nine minutes.

thirty nine minutes since you got off work, thirty nine minutes of clinging to the rough plaster wall of your workplace as you attempt to shelter yourself from the onslaught of rain, and thirty nine minutes of pure anger bubbling up in your chest.

bokuto was supposed to be here thirty nine minutes ago to pick you up, but the parking lot in front of you is empty, aside from your reflection that occupies the puddle forming next to you on the pavement.

a total of forty seven minutes pass before you see a familiar black sports car roll up in front of you, slick with rain as the muffled sound of music hums from within. the purr of the engine is loud as you approach the passenger door, a sound that would usually make your ears perk up, but one that only adds to your anger right now.

“i’m so sorry baby! i thought it was tomorrow that i had to pick you up, and so i drove atsumu home after practice and — ” he’s babbling as soon as you open the door, bright eyes flitting between the dark clouds and you as you settle into the seat next to him.

“let’s just go home, okay? how was work?” his voice is playful and teasing, but still woven with love and affection as he beams at you, waiting. it was an almost impossible task, staying mad at him, but you’ve had forty seven minutes to sit — stand rather — and dwell on this, so you were sure going to give it your best try.

the ride home is completely silent, aside from the overplayed songs on the radio that do nothing to improve your mood. you can feel him giving you side glances, but he doesn’t dare let another word escape him. he messed up — this much he knows, but it was just an honest mistake, right?

wrong. that’s not how you saw it at all, and maybe it was the way your boss yelled at you this morning, maybe it was the way he looked so disgustingly warm and dry sitting next to you, or maybe it was the forty seven minutes of pent up rage. whatever it was, it wasn’t sitting well.

and because you’d never been great at housing your emotions, the moment you set foot through the front door, the words are tumbling past your lips. the same lips that always told bokuto how amazing he was.

“i can’t believe you forgot about me! i reminded you countless times this morning, and last night that you had to pick me up kōtarō!” your voice is laced with an unfamiliar venom, and the foreign sound of his full name on your tongue makes his stomach turn.

his eyes grow wide as he attempts to sputter out a response, but you don’t give him the chance, the feeling of your rain soaked clothes clinging to your skin a reminder of just how upset you are. and in your fit of rage, you deliver a fatal blow.

“god how can you be so stupid all the time? you can’t even do a simple task!” the words come out like a poison, hot and seething with hate. and now all you can do is watch as his face contorts into something alien; a look that you’ve never seen before nor do you ever want to see again.

bokuto is not oblivious. he knows what people think of him, and he hears what people say. stupid, dumb, a moron, an idiot. sometimes they’ll humour him and go the “nice” route with things like slow, or simple, but all these words feed into his belief that he is in fact, unintelligent.

and what might be a petty immature insult to some is something that bokuto has been told his whole life, by everyone except for you. but was he really that stupid? did he really come off as nothing but an airhead?

“kou i — ” your voice is small as it slips between your lips, and you question if it was even audible at all. but just as your about to gush out your apology, bokuto beats you to it.

“i’m sorry, baby. i didn’t mean to forget about you i just, wasn’t thinking. i don’t know how i manage to be this stupid all the time either.” he tacks a chuckle onto the end of his sentence, but his persona falters as you catch a glimpse of the tears that gather in his eyes, begging to be let loose.

it’s a gut wrenching sight to say the least, watching him try to smile and laugh it off despite the obvious shake of his voice and the fresh wet trails that form on his cheeks. but that’s just one more thing that bokuto is known for; never being unhappy.

“no i’m sorry kou, don’t apologize. you know i don’t think that of you, right?” you’re trying hopelessly now, spewing out any words that come to mind as the feeling of guilt threatens to swallow you whole. he’s trying too — trying oh so desperately to not let you see him upset, because you didn’t mean it, right?

of course you didn’t, and bokuto knows that. but it still hurts coming from you, the person who always told him how handsome and smart he was. it feels like a lie.

but bokuto is still bokuto, and he could never stay mad at you — he was to blame after all, wasn’t he?

so his arms still snake around your waist, and he still buries his face into the spot where your neck meets your shoulder. his embrace is tight, the heat from his body engulfing yours as he holds you flush against him. his mantra of sorries is muffled into your skin as he tightens his grip on you, warmth shooting from his fingertips as he grazes them across your arm.

“stop apologizing kou, i shouldn’t have said that, i’m so sorry. you’re not stupid, not even a little bit.” he relaxes into your arms, but the lack of his sweet voice and bright smile tell you that your words aren’t completely resonating with him.

“hey,” you start, placing your hand onto the back of his head and twirling a strand of silver hair between your fingers. “remember when we made it out of the escape room faster than kuroo and kenma that one time?”

“and they kept saying we cheated!” his head pops up to look you in the eyes at the mention of one of his favourite memories with you, and a hint of the bokuto you fell in love with shines through.

“yeah,” you let out a breathy chuckle as you lean your forehead against his, cupping his face in your hands. “you’re the only reason we made it out of there, i sure as hell don’t know morse code.”

“well i thought it would save my life one day, so i learnt it when i was younger!” he’s grinning now, a grin so big it almost doesn’t fit on his face. he pulls you back in for another hug, longer this time, and a little more bone crushing.

“i’m sorry kou. i love you, you know that right?” his calloused hand finds it’s way to your cheek, running the pad of his thumb over it before leaning in to place a passionate kiss to your lips.

“yeah, and i love you too.”

and now, with your arms snug around his neck and the feeling of his lips peppering little kisses onto your shoulder, you wonder if maybe you’re the stupid one for hurting the person you love.

reblogs + interaction are appreciated! thank you for reading! ッ

cheater cheater

characters: bokuto, brief mentions of atsumu, akaashi is mentioned once; post! timeskip

wc: 6.3k

warnings: angst!! slightly suggestive for like two paragraphs (it’s italicized), mostly sfw, cheating obviosly

tagging: @a-kaash-me-outside​ 

a/n: in no way shape or form do I condone cheating nor do I think bokuto would ever cheat, the collab was just too fun to pass up... PLEASE head on over to @a-kaash-me-outside’s blog for the rest of the cheater cheater collab pieces!

Bokuto was seated across from you at the small dining table-it only sat four people because he had said a bigger dining table meant more space between him and yourself. You set your cup down, the water doing little to ease the nerves pooling in your stomach. You tried to stop the bouncing of your leg too but to no avail. Your eyes scanned your lover’s face, starting with his eyes that stared at a random spot on the table, down the bridge of his nose toward his lips that were set into a firm line. He was deep in thought, that much was obvious. His hair was disheveled from how many times he ran his hand through it.

Bokuto wasn’t acting like himself, and it’s safe to say he’s been like this for about a week now. His overflowing affection for you is nowhere to be found, and you figured it had something to do with their recent loss. Sure, the MSBY boys were no strangers to the concept of losing, however they had practiced tirelessly for this match and had been so sure of themselves. So, you attributed Bokuto’s uncharacteristic mood to last week’s match and went on with your day.

What else were you supposed to do after he reassured you he was fine and just needed space. You wanted to do nothing more than to pull him into a hug and run your fingers through his hair, telling him he’d win the next match for sure and that you’d one hundred percent be there, unlike the last match.

You felt as though your absence may have affected him more than he cared to admit, and you’re correct. Bokuto did want you to be there, but how could he be upset with you over you not going when you try to go to all of his matches. He understands that you can’t get away from work every time and that your work is just as important to you as volleyball is for him. He couldn’t be selfish, but he had to admit to himself he was disappointed.

However, the loss was the least of his worries.

“Kou?”

He blinked several times before his gaze lifted toward your own concerned one. “Yeah?” His expression was blank, devoid of any emotion.

Your brows furrowed in growing worry and instinctively, your hand reached out across the table in hopes his own would grasp it. You were throwing him a lifeline, hoping he’d catch it.

He didn’t. His hands remained in his lap. You couldn’t see it, but he was twirling his thumbs around each other in a poor attempt at easing his own nerves. But you could see the slightest of wrinkles on his forehead, and the way his eyes didn’t glimmer as bright as they usually did. You were afraid to speak again. Clearly his inner turmoil was slowly breaking him down, and whatever it was you wanted it to stop. But how? How could you make it stop when you couldn’t even bring yourself to ask him what was wrong, afraid that another push into any direction would be the wrong direction and you’d set him off.

Taking a deep breath, readying yourself to ask him if he was okay, your hand gripped the cup you realized you never let go. You were holding onto it so tight your knuckles were turning white. Maybe you needed the lifeline.

“Kou, are you okay?”

He continued looking at you. His gaze gradually relaxed until a slight smile curved his lips. “Yeah, I’m fine. Sorry, was just thinking about practice today.” With that, he pushed his chair back, the scraping of the chair’s legs against the linoleum too loud in the silence. You couldn’t help but cringe as it rang in your ears. Standing up, he picked up his plate and walked into the kitchen, dumping the food into the trash before putting it in the sink. Your eyes followed his every move, and you realized he had barely eaten anything.

Before leaving the kitchen, he stopped at the table and gave you one last look. “I’m gonna shower, ‘kay?”

You hummed and watched him leave as your heart permanently lodged itself in your throat. You could hear his footsteps fade the further he walked from you. You looked down at your food that was probably too cold to eat, and then at your hand that was still holding onto the cup like it could save you from what you were feeling. You let the cup go and massage your hand before it begins to cramp. Tears pooled in your eyes and you blinked them away, not wanting to make this personal…not yet anyway. Sighing, you did what Bokuto had done moments ago in the kitchen. After emptying your plate, you walk over to the sink and stare at the dirty dishes. Well, they weren’t going to wash themselves.

  While Bokuto showered, you got ready for bed using the hallway bathroom and when you were dressed in your pajamas, you snuggled into bed hoping that maybe he’d be up for some cuddles. While you waited, you stared at the ceiling, wondering how bad their loss could have been to have your boyfriend in such an awful slump.

You had started falling asleep when your cell phone pinged. You unlocked your phone to see it was a text from Atsumu.

9:48 PM – Atsumu: Hey, are you and Bokuto in a fight?

Your brows furrowed as you read over his text, chewing on your bottom lip as you wondered what could have possibly made him think that. Well, Bokuto’s mood obviously but you would’ve thought he of all people should know why he’s feeling down.

9:50 PM – You: Uh, no. Has he said we are?

As soon as you hit send Bokuto opens the bathroom door, startling you in the process. The scent of his shampoo follows him as he walks around the room. You inhale out of habit, suddenly getting hit with a pang of nostalgia. That soapy scent that clung to him whenever you cuddled him after his shower was strong enough to ease your worries, and suddenly you wanted nothing more than to be engulfed in his arms.

You sink back into bed, leaving your phone on the nightstand in the process. You turn on your side as you watch Bokuto sit on the edge of the bed, his back toward you. You tug on the hem of his shirt to get his attention.

He turns around, a brow raised, and you know he’s waiting for you to speak.

“Atsumu asked me if we’re fighting.”

He swallowed and you could see his Adam’s apple bob, causing you to sit up.

“Bokuto, have you told them we’ve been fighting?”

Bokuto couldn’t bring himself to say no because he knew it was going to be easier for him to handle you being mad at him over this than over why he was truly pushing you away. He wanted to get used to the silence before sealing the deal. He knew it was selfish of him. He was cushioning the blow for himself, but who would cushion it for you?

You mistook his silence for a definitive yes. Why was he telling his teammates that you and him were in the middle of a fight? When you in fact were not. You say his name, this time your voice is a little louder, firmer.

“Bokuto.”

His heart clenched at your use of his surname. There was no love laced in your voice either, only concern and a growing frustration. But you were still at his side. He was still going to get to feel the bed dip from your weight, and he’d savor it; he’d savor every last bit. He didn’t say anything other than a soft-spoken goodnight. He lied on his back and got comfortable under the covers, or as comfortable as he could since you were still sitting up and glaring daggers at him.

“This isn’t over.” You sighed for what seemed like the hundredth time since he had returned home from practice. You reach for your phone to send Atsumu one last text before turning off the lamp on your nightstand.

10:13 PM – You: I guess we are…

  By the time you wake up Bokuto’s gone. You look over at his side of the bed, running your fingers over his pillow. There was no use in starting your day in a sour mood, so you swing your legs off the bed and stand up, deciding that your boyfriend’s mood won’t ruin yours. You start to get ready for work, the only noise in your room coming from the open window. Quickly, you make your way toward the kitchen, making breakfast while the TV hums quietly in the background. You needed some form of noise other than the ticking of the clock and the air conditioning, and the news did just fine in filling the apartment with whatever was going on in the world.

While you eat, Atsumu sends you another text.

7:27 AM – Atsumu: Are you okay?

You lock your phone after skimming over the message, not bothering to respond yet. Damn Atsumu and the care he has for you. Being Bokuto’s girlfriend comes with its perks. You both share the same group of friends because let’s admit, who could hate them. Of course, you both have your share of personal friends but for the most part, you’re always around one of Bokuto’s friends.

Throughout the years as Bokuto’s girlfriend, Atsumu and you became close. His friendship turned into one you valued a lot, but you couldn’t deal with his questions at the moment, not before work. Later. Later would be better.

And like that, later turned into never. You were headed home from work and had gone through the day with no text or call from your beloved partner. You can’t say the same for Atsumu. He called you during your lunch break, which you ignored, and he texted several times more after. You ignored them all.

This wasn’t like Bokuto, and you were beginning to get tired of the radio silence. He never pushed you away, especially when he needed you the most.

Then it dawned on you.

He’s going to break up with you. It only made sense considering it seemed like he no longer needed you. Suddenly, an immense weight fell on your shoulders at the thought of having to face the fact that he no longer loves you. When did he stop? You rack your brain for clues, for telltale signs that show he obviously doesn’t want to be with you anymore. And that’s when the confusion settles in because prior to their loss he had never gone a day without telling you he loved you. Not a day had gone by without him looking at you with the utmost adoration. He never stopped loving you.

So, why the sudden change? If it wasn’t you, was it the team?

You pulled out your phone to call Atsumu, feeling that for the first time in over a week you had an idea of what was going on. He answers after the first ring and you can’t help the smile that graces your features.

“Finally, I hear from ya.” You can hear the scowl in his voice and you huff out a quiet laugh.

“I’m sorry, ‘tsumu. Hey, I’ve got a question.”

“Uh-oh, sounds serious. Should I be worried?”

You hold your phone between your shoulder and ear as you unlock the front door of your shared apartment with Bokuto. Atsumu can hear the jingle of your keys as you hum a quiet no in response to his question. He can hear you shut the door behind you and the click of the lock, no doubt your shoes probably being slipped off after shrugging off your coat. You drop your keys in a bowl by the door before making your way to the kitchen to get something to drink.

“Atsumu, I’m the one that’s worried. Did Bokuto get into an argument with any of you guys after your last game?”

Atsumu swallows thickly as he recalls the memory of the last game, shuddering as if you had just rubbed salt into the wound. He thinks about what Bokuto had said after, about how he wished you were there and that he would’ve played better had you been cheering him on. But he can’t remember a fight. After the game, the group hit a bar and got tipsy. The night blurs into a muddied mess he can’t remember.

You wait with baited breath as he silently picks through his brain, trying to gather the pieces of that night. You’re about to say his name to get his attention but he speaks up before you can.

“No, we haven’t fought since then. But that’s what I wanted to talk to ya about. Are you two fighting?”

You set down the cup you reached for and fill it with water. “No, Atsumu, we’re not. Which is why I was hoping he’s been upset with one of you guys.” You take a sip and set the cup down harder than you intended. Water spilled over the edge and you shook your hand to get the water off.

“Hoping?” Atsumu can hear you open and close a cabinet.

You wiped down the counter after having grabbed a napkin. You sigh into the phone as you throw it in the trash. “Yes, Atsumu. I was hoping.”

That’s when Atsumu hears it, the helplessness in your voice.

You’re slowly coming to the realization that Bokuto doesn’t want you anymore. You hear keys jingling and the door knob rattle, announcing your boyfriend’s arrival. The panic you feel terrifies you but you can’t help it.

“I gotta go ‘tsumu! He’s here.” And with that, you hang up.

Bokuto steps in quietly despite seeing that the kitchen light is on. It’s only late in the evening, still too early to go to sleep, but he was hoping he wouldn’t have to see your face or hear your voice. He needed to keep the distance. He holds his breath as he slips his shoes off and drops his duffel bag by the couch, waiting for you to come bounding up to him the way you usually do to greet him after practice. But you don’t. And he’s afraid. He’s afraid to call out your name, afraid that you’ll respond.

You’re frozen in place by the counter, gazing at the water in your cup, vision blurring the longer you stare. Bokuto takes cautious steps toward the kitchen, and when his eyes land on your obviously tense figure his heart deflates. You both were walking on eggshells around each other, and he was to blame.

He could tell you now and get the heartbreak over with, but the devil on his shoulder told him to wait one more week. Just one more. It was awfully selfish and it made his gut twist in guilt but he couldn’t let you go. You’re his everything. You kept him grounded. Who was going to tell him to take a break when he pushed himself too hard during practice? Who was going to wash his hair when he was too tired, or simply because he wanted to spend time with you? Who was going to reassure him every morning and night? No one else would hold him the way you did because you held him as if he’d disappear. No one would love him the way you did.

You blinked several times before shifting your gaze to his face, and you noticed the way his eyes welled with tears.

“Kou? Do you still love me?”

His heart clenched as he registered your words. He wanted nothing more than to pull you into a hug and apologize for how he’s been treating you. You have no idea how much he wishes that’s all he has to apologize for, how desperately he wants to be able to blame their recent game for his awful behavior.

His ears ring with your question. He does still love you, and precisely because he loves you, he should tell you.

You stand there, waiting for Bokuto to answer. His eyebrows furrow as he thinks, and you wonder if he truly has to think about how to respond to a simple yes or no question. He doesn’t speak, but he closes the gap between you with quick strides. He pulls you into his arms, cradling the back of your head with one of his hands while his other arm snakes around your waist.

He holds you close as he wills the tears not to fall, and as he runs his fingers through your hair, he recalls the brief moments he remembers of that night. He shuts his eyes to force the images away but that only makes them more vivid.

He knew it was wrong as his fingers danced along her skin. Was he that upset about your absence from his game? He understood you were busy, and yet he couldn’t stop thinking about what could’ve happened had you been there. Perhaps they would’ve won. Perhaps they could’ve made it further into the tournament. Perhaps they could’ve stepped onto the court once more. All these maybes and what ifs were useless, he knew that. And yet…

He was too far gone to care as he let himself indulge in the girl beneath him. She clung to him tightly as he continued to take the stress and the disappointment of the day out. A light sheen of sweat was present on both of their bodies, and the moon illuminated them throughout the entire time, like a blanket meant to keep Bokuto Koutaro’s secret. The pleasure was short lived as he realized that she didn’t fit perfectly against him the way you did. You two were like puzzle pieces that fit every time, two souls bound together. He couldn’t bear to keep his eyes open. He squeezed them shut tight and his ears rang with the lewd sounds that tumbled past her red lips.

Bokuto opens his eyes as he clings to you. A single, guilty thought sat in the back of his mind, however. What she doesn’t know won’t kill her. Bokuto’s arms slightly tighten at the intrusion. He shouldn’t be thinking like this. If he loved you, he wouldn’t be playing with your emotions the way he currently was. He saw the way your eyes looked at him after asking him if he still loved you. The way your eyes, glassy with unshed tears, were like an open door. He could see the fear, the confusion, the hope-your life was hanging on the balance of that one question. He knew his answer would either lift the current weight off your chest or would weigh you down until you couldn’t breathe.

So, he decided to wait.

He let out a shaky breath as he pulled back to look at you. “Of course, I still love you.” He turned you so that he could lead you toward the room. “Come on, let’s get some sleep.”

You eyed him warily, unconvinced despite his reassurance, but for tonight you’d play along. You were tired, both mentally and emotionally. So, you wait for your boyfriend to turn off the kitchen lights, then let him lead you to your bedroom. Bokuto gulps as he walks down the hallway with his hand on the small of your back. He felt worse than before, and he wasn’t sure if he’d be able to make it through another week. He desperately wanted to give himself a few more days with you, but the guilt was eating him alive.

The atmosphere is tense as the both of you get ready for bed, opting to take turns using the bathroom unlike your usual routine, which consists of the two of you shoving each other to get to the sink first. Tonight, there’d be no playful shoves while brushing your teeth, just your own pair of eyes with dark bags under your eyes staring back at you.

You settle into bed, both of you staying on your own side. You’ve been with Bokuto long enough to know he can’t sleep without holding you, so you’re very aware of the dark bags under his eyes too. Neither of you have been able to get much sleep, and tonight is no different. He tosses and turns, kicks the blanket off then pulls it over him again. And this continues well into the early morning, until finally you give in and reach for his hand.

He tenses up, then slowly starts to relax. You turn on your side so you can wrap an arm around his torso, and you can tell he isn’t fully relaxing his body into the mattress. You pull him close, your hand rubbing circles into his lower back, and his breathing eventually deepens. Sighing, you kiss his forehead and cup his face in your hand, your thumb smoothing out the wrinkles on his forehead, then rubbing over the apples of his cheek.

He was distraught and you weren’t sure why. It had to be more than having lost a match. He’d lost games before and never reacted like this. You kiss his forehead once more before wrapping his arms around you so that you too could fall asleep. Maybe tomorrow during that split second after waking up where your memory is foggy, you’ll think that it’s just another morning waking up in his arms. And maybe you’ll be able to trick yourself, for even just the briefest of moments, that you’re happy.

Bokuto may have had the same idea because after waking up the following morning, the sky still a pale blue, the city still quiet, he forgets what’s been plaguing his mind. He pulls you in close and kisses your forehead like he always did before. A smile graces his face, and it’s a genuine smile. The one where his eyes turn into crescents and his lips pull back to reveal his teeth. He’s happy, truly happy, for a few seconds. And then the weight of the world collapses on him and he feels like he’s falling. He rubs his temple with a hand then untangles himself from you, giving you one last longing look before stepping into the bathroom to get ready.

He always goes to the gym before practice, and if not the gym, then he goes for a run. He gets ready for the rest of his day as quietly as possible so as to not wake you up, and before he leaves the room, he leans over your sleeping figure and presses a kiss to your forehead, then the tip of your nose. He looks at you and feels his chest tighten because this is what he threw away. He risked the unconditional love and safety you gave him all because he was upset that you couldn’t go. There was no excusing that. It was a ridiculous reason really, because it makes him sound selfish. And he was, in that brief moment, he was selfish and it was going to cost him a relationship he never thought would end. Because when he pictured his wife, it was you. You two were supposed to grow old together. It was supposed to be you and him in this life and every other life that was to come.

He blinks the tears away, leaves a chaste kiss, and turns to leave the room when you reach out and tug at his shirt. Sleepily, you mumble a soft I love you then let go. You continue sleeping as if you hadn’t just ripped his heart out. Bokuto covers his mouth before he can let out a choked sob. He deserves to feel this torment and more, because what you’d be feeling would be a thousand times worse. He turns on his heels and leaves the room, not bothering to grab breakfast before leaving the apartment. He had to get away, because being inside your shared dwelling was suffocating.

  The next few days go by like a blur. You’ve gradually become accustomed to the quieter responses you get from your boyfriend. He’s somewhat responsive now and reciprocates the featherlight kisses you press to his cheek whenever he arrives or leaves your home, and you think that maybe he’s beginning to get over it. However, you can tell he’s not completely back.

So, when Bokuto asks you to wash his hair after one of his practice sessions, you think finally, his sour mood is gone and the Bokuto you know and love is back. You hope he’ll be cuddly after because you miss being in his arms-his arms that kept you safe and warm. Nothing would ever beat being held by him because he held you like nothing else mattered, as if nothing more important would ever exist at the same time as him.

Little did you know, Bokuto was savoring the last few moments he was allowing himself to share with you. He’d tell you tonight. He didn’t want to tell you, but my god, the guilt was gnawing at his insides. Every time he looked at you his stomach would turn, and seeing the hopeful look in your eyes when he’d press a kiss to your cheek was like a punch to his gut. He knew you deserved better.

You follow Bokuto into your shared room, a small smile raising the corner of your lips as you walk past him and into the bathroom. “I’m gonna start your bath, Kou.”

He hums in response as he starts to pull his shirt over his head, but stops and pulls his shirt back down so he can scan your shared bedroom. He’d probably never see his room with your belongings again. His place won’t feel as inhabited considering he was gone for long hours most of the time, whether it be for training or practice, matches at home or out of the country. You made his apartment feel like a home, with your clothes thrown over the chair in the corner of the room, your skincare a disarray in the bathroom cabinets after the two of you would have your weekly skincare date because sometimes it was all he’d have time for but at least you were spending time together. He noticed the books on your nightstand, one a little more worn out than the rest because it was your favorite. He knows if he were to open it, he’d find your messy handwriting, which was usually neat but because of the limited space it looked messy, in the margins of the pages. Your glasses sat atop the book and that’s how he knows you had been reading it before he arrived.

He looks over to the closet where your clothes are clearly overtaking his half. Once you leave, he’ll have room to spare. He finds the rest of your books sitting atop the shelves in the closet, and he recalls you shoving them in any place they’d fit because you just had so many. His eyes wander to the photos of the two of you, some plastered to the walls while others are placed in picture frames that sit atop both of your nightstands, your vanity, your bookshelf, anywhere that has enough space for a frame. He hopes you’ll let him keep a few, for his memories’ sake.

You peek your head out from the bathroom after having called out Bokuto’s name twice, only to be ignored. “Hey Kou, did you not hear me?”

He turns around, tears falling down his cheeks. Your frustration is long forgotten as you walk toward him, pulling him into the tightest embrace. “Kou, whatever it is that’s bothering you…you know you can tell me, right?”

At that, he sobs. Loud. His shoulders shake uncontrollably as the dam he had built throughout the past two weeks crumbles. His resolve shatters as his tears soak your shirt. His fingers grip your shirt tightly as he holds you impossibly close. He manages to quiet down, choking on his whispered response. “But I can’t tell you.”

You try to pull back, but his grip only gets tighter as he buries his face into your neck. “Kou, you need to tell me why you’re so worked up. Baby, I’m worried about you.”

He lets you pull back just a bit, and you cup his face so you can thumb his tears away. His heart constricts at both the pet name and at the way you’re gently holding his face. He continues to speak in a hushed tone. “I can’t tell you because you’ll hate me and never want to see me.” At his admission, tears well in his eyes again and you can’t wipe them away quick enough. You settle for just cupping his face in your hands.

“Why would I hate you? Did you do something worth hating?”

He squeezes his eyes shut, not being able to look at you as he nods. At this, your own heart constricts, and the concern your heart held for Bokuto slowly turned into anguish. What had he done?

“Bokuto…what did you do?”

He opens his eyes, the anguish in your heart somehow reflected in them. You could see the fear, it was the same fear you had last week, the fear of losing one another. He stumbled over his own words; the panic evident. “I-I’m your Kou!” He choked on his own sobs as he clung to you once more.

You were at your wits end though. You were tired of feeling like something was being kept from you. “Bokuto, please! Just spit it out!”

His eyebrows were furrowed and his eyes were shut tight as he confessed. “I cheated! Okay?!” His chest heaved as if he had just run a marathon. “I cheated…” he repeated, quieter this time.

Your hands fell to your sides, your body numb as you processed what he just said. He cheated? Cheated when? With who? No, you didn’t want to know who. You felt your knees begin to buckle, so you sat on the bed before you could fall. You stared ahead but not really seeing. You couldn’t tell if you wanted to cry out of disappointment, out of sadness, or out of anger.

Despite clearing your voice, it still came out strained when you spoke. “When?”

Bokuto looked at you with wide eyes. “When what?”

“My god Bokuto, don't be an idiot. When did you cheat?”

He grimaced as you called him both by his last name and an idiot. It hurt like hell and he wanted nothing more than to fall to his knees to beg you to talk about something else, about how you two were going to get over this. But he was glued to his spot. “The night we lost.”

You scoffed after realizing it’s the only game you missed this season. “So, let me get this straight…I miss one game and you screw some random girl that looks your way?” You stand up, realizing if you stay beside him, you’ll cave. Because with that look of utter remorse you’re sure he could convince you to stay, but you won’t. As easy as it is to forgive Bokuto Koutaro, you know you’ll never forget. You can try and work this out with him, but this is something you’d hold over his head for the rest of his life. You knew that’d only make your life miserable. So, you walk to the closet and grab a duffel bag, throwing in a few changes of clothes to get you through a couple of days until you’ve completely moved out.

Bokuto sees the resolve on your face, and he knows that no amount of crying and begging will get you to stay. He stands in the doorway of the closet, effectively blocking your only way out, and he foolishly asks you a question he already knows the answer to. “Can’t you stay? Can’t we work this out? Because it wasn’t like that I swear!” He tentatively reaches his hand out, but you retreat.

You finally look at him, angry tears spilling down your cheeks. “So, what am I supposed to make of this then?! Huh?!” You turn your head so you can blink the tears away.

“I don’t know! Think of anything other than me not loving you because I swear, I do!” Warm tears run down his cheeks again, this time in defeat.

You angrily wipe at your eyes. “No, Bokuto! If you loved me, you wouldn’t have done that! How could you have been so selfish?! You knew I was busy and yet you couldn’t keep it in your pants long enough until you got home!” You dropped your duffel bag after zipping it closed. “You came home to me right after, Bokuto! I took care of you that night because of how wasted you were! You came home and slept beside me after doing God knows what!” This time you let the tears flow freely, hoping that the hurt in your eyes and the pain laced in your voice hurt your now ex-boyfriend tenfold. You wanted him to hurt the way you were and more.

He reached for you, pulling you into his arms, and you had never felt more repulsed in your life. His arms that once promised security and safety, his arms that you could call home, no longer were any of that because those same arms embraced another woman. You shoved Bokuto off, pushing him as hard as you could but it didn’t faze him. “Bokuto, move.”

The look in your eyes was enough to kill, and so he stepped aside. He was frozen in place as he watched you grab the duffel bag from the floor and walk past him as if he’s not there. He watches as you grab your phone to call God knows who, but when he hears you say Atsumu’s name, his stomach flips. Atsumu would hate him for this, probably for the rest of their lives.

You continue surveying the room and the bathroom for any necessities you may need as you wait for Atsumu to stop talking. Your voice is hoarse when you speak. “I’m leaving in a minute or so, Atsumu. I’d rather drive myself then wait for you to get here. I can’t spend another second with him.”

Bokuto balls his hands into fists because now you won’t even address him by his name. He knows he’s the one to blame, yet he can’t help the tinge of jealousy.

“I know I’m in no condition to drive, but I just can’t stay!” You let out a frustrated breath. “Sorry ‘tsumu. I’d just rather risk it right now. Look, I finished packing. I’ll see you soon.” You hang up the call as you sling the duffel bag over your shoulder and start walking down the hallway.

Bokuto knows there’s nothing worth saving anymore, you have made your decision abundantly clear, and yet he follows you anyway. He stands a few feet away from the entrance, giving you plenty of space so you can put on your sweater and shoes. When he speaks, his voice is hoarse too, and he has to clear it several times so he can speak clearly.

“Can I…can I keep a few photos?”

You pause midway of tying your shoes and look up from your crouched position by the door. His figure is blurry from the tears you’re holding back, so you let out a humorless chuckle to mask the hurt because you would not give Bokuto the satisfaction of knowing that you too felt like your heart had been ripped out. You notice him flinch at your indifference and feel a small sense of pride, but the feeling doesn’t last nearly as long as you hoped. “Do whatever you want with the photos, Bokuto. I don’t care.”

You stand up, suddenly not wanting to leave. This had been your home for the last few years, he had been your home for the last few years. You take in a deep breath, readying yourself for whatever it is you’ll feel once you leave. You put your hand on the door knob and pause, looking at Bokuto over your shoulder. “I hope it was worth it.”

Bokuto can only watch from where he’s glued to the floor. His limbs feel too heavy to move. Your figure is blurry to him as well, but he shamelessly lets the tears fall. He wants you to see that he’s sorry despite knowing that won’t change the outcome of the situation.

You step outside, the cool air allowing you to breathe freely for once in the last two weeks. Before shutting the door, you give him one last, good look. “I’ll come get my stuff when you’re not home, and since you’re never really home it shouldn’t be that hard.” You couldn’t help the jabs that you were throwing his way.

“I’ll have ‘tsumu accompany me, so I can be sure you won’t be here. I know you won’t wanna face him any time soon.”

Bokuto just nods, because he hears you but doesn’t quite understand. His ears are ringing after every sentence you speak. He doesn’t hear the soft goodbye Bokuto that tumbles past your lips before closing the door with a soft click. And he wishes he had, because his name coming from your lips would always sound heavenly no matter in what tone you said it.

He walks toward the window and pushes the curtain aside. He watches you pull out of the driveway, and just like that, you’re gone. Just like that, his relationship is over. He pulls out his phone because there’s only one person he could talk to right now that would hear him out.

He puts his phone up to his ear and impatiently taps his foot as the line continues to ring. Finally, they pick up, and the breath Bokuto is holding to keep his composure is released. He lets the curtain fall closed as he begins to cry again and somehow, he manages to spit out a few words through choked sobs. 

“Akaashi…she’s gone.”

in the rain

characters: bokuto and gn! reader; post! timeskip

wc: 1.8k

warnings: none that i can think of?? it’s pure fluff

tagging: @ichigomis​

a/n: i had fun writing for this collab! please head on over to @ichigomis blog for more! i'm not too happy with how it turned out but i hope y'all like it...also this is loosely inspired by the umbrella scene in the first season of miraculous ladybug, the song just makes me emotional okay? okay! also, one umbrella leads to the song on youtube while the other leads to the song on spotify! happy reading!

give this a listen while reading ☂ ☂

The rain didn’t seem like it was going to let up anytime soon, and unfortunately, you can’t afford to be late to work. You let the curtains close with a sigh before walking to the couch. You reach for the TV remote and turn off the TV, the room falling silent save for the pitter patter of the rain. After grabbing your bag, which you had dropped at the foot of the couch the night before after work, you pulled on your rain coat and shoes. Your fingers reached for the keys in the bowl by the entrance, the metal cold against your skin, while your other hand slings your bag over your shoulder before grabbing an umbrella from the coat closet.

Stepping outside, you shove the keys into your bag after locking your front door. A shiver skitters down your spine as a gush of wind rushes past you, lifting your hair slightly. Pulling your coat tighter, you open your umbrella and begin your walk to the bus station. Maybe you should’ve worn rain boots, or a warmer coat, or maybe if you had a boyfriend so doting that they’d drop anything for you, maybe then you wouldn’t have to deal with this rainy weather.

While you enjoy the grey skies and the smell that clings to the dew in the air after it rains, you only like it when you’re staring outside from the comfort of your apartment. You debate turning around and using one of your sick days because the temptation of being indoors, enveloped by the warmth of your blankets and the heat that seeps into your body from the mug of hot cocoa in your hands, is too great. But you continue trudging along, because who else is going to be responsible for you if not yourself.

Unbeknownst to you, a man with black and grey hair was also trudging toward the same bus station as you. Normally, he wouldn’t mind this sort of weather, but today he just couldn’t deal with it. He had forgotten his umbrella amidst his rush in getting out of the door. He had forgotten to set his alarm after getting home late after practice, making him late this morning. He even skipped breakfast so as to not miss the bus; he knew today would be worse than the day before because not only was he tired, but he was hungry. He’s just glad he packed his lunch last night before going to bed, so at the very least he has food for later.

Grumbling to himself about how he was soaked through and how his hair was getting into his eyes, he sighs in relief upon seeing the bus station that would provide some cover from the pouring rain. He picks up his pace, ignoring how ridiculous it may seem that he’s running for cover despite him being completely drenched, droplets of water dripping from the ends of his hair, some landing on his face and others landing on the ground. His eyes widen in surprise as he sees your dry figure, wrapped up in a coat appropriate for the weather and an umbrella clutched tightly in your hands. He wasn’t expecting anyone to be taking the bus this early, usually he was the only one waiting.

You tilt your head up, gaze following suit when you hear footsteps quicken their pace. Your eyes land on a pair of golden ones that are widened in…confusion perhaps? It didn’t really matter, because you swear the rain is gone the minute you look into his eyes. And after one look, you know he’d put the sun to shame.

You both step up to the bus stop at the same time, with small smiles exchanged instead of hellos, and stand with a respectable amount of space meant for two strangers. You close your umbrella and wrap the chord around your wrist so as to not leave it behind.

Despite the cold seeping into his skin, he can’t help but smile at the warmth blossoming in his chest. Because even though you threw one smile his way, that was all he needed to know that he’d like to see you smile again…but he wants you to smile with him, not at him.

You notice that he keeps adjusting his hair, the frustrated pout on his lips endearing as you side eye him while he fights to get his hair out of his eyes. You bite back a smile and look down, hoping he won’t catch you biting your lower lip in a poor attempt at holding in your laugh.

He shuffles in his spot a bit as he readjusts the strap of his gym bag over his shoulder. His movements catch your attention, which was what he was going for. His gaze catches yours and he gives you his best smile, despite it being too early for anything of the sort. You return the smile as best as you could, but who are you kidding? It’s not even seven in the morning. He extends his hand out to yours then pulls it back, and instead settles on waving his hand ever so slightly, which he then plays off by scratching the back of his neck in embarrassment.

He lets out a breathy laugh, a puff of air slipping past his lips. “Sorry, I just…I never see you at this stop.”

You turn your body so you’re facing him, an open invitation to a possible friendship. Your fingers fiddle with the chord of the umbrella as you breathe out, your warm breath mixing with the frosty air. You shrug and let out a huff of air, “I never go to work this early, but there were things that needed to be taken care of before the beginning of my shift so…” your sentence drifts, somewhat unfinished. He looks at you with an expectant look, gaze unwavering, interested.

He tilts his head in pure intrigue. “So?”

The smile you had been fighting earlier returns and settles itself permanently on your lips. “So…no one wanted to go in early to finish it and since I live the closest…well, you can imagine.” He hums in understanding, then looks over his shoulder to check if the bus had already turned onto the street.

“What about you?”

He whips his head toward you, eyes wide once again. “Huh?”

You laugh and unconsciously take a step toward him. “Why do you take the bus so early?”

“Oh!” He returns your laugh with his own, and you swear you’ve never heard anything more wonderful than that. “I head to the gym before practice starts.”

At that, you cringe. “You purposely wake up early?”

He nods his head, seemingly not as excited as before. “I don’t like it, but I do love my job. So, I wouldn’t trade it for anything.” He bites his tongue, wishing he hadn’t said that to you. Once seeing your unchanged expression, however, his shoulders relax.

“What do you do?”

His smile grows fonder. “I play professional volleyball.”

You don’t mean to look so surprised, but you can’t help it. His cheeks flush a soft pink, and you think he can’t get cuter than he looks in this moment. You can tell he enjoys what he does with almost a childlike innocence, but by his discipline you can also tell he takes it seriously. And that’s when you take note of how his wet clothes clings to his figure, and you can tell he’s well built. Suddenly, you wish his bus would arrive sooner so he doesn’t see your obvious ogling, and yet you’re disappointed to see it turn the corner moments after.

His smile softens at the corners, the pout he sported earlier breaking through his smile. “That’s my bus.” His voice is hushed as he tells you, afraid he’ll shatter the comfortable silence that had settled for a brief moment.

Your own smile falters a bit, and you look down at your umbrella. You chew on your bottom lip as you debate whether or not you should give it to him. You recall that you had sewn a patch onto it with your name and number in case you ever lost it. While you are aware that it’s just an umbrella, you somewhat pride yourself in not having lost it ever since you were in high school. And as you see the bus inch closer, and see the slight anguish in the man’s eyes as he looks at you as though he’s never going to see you again, you realize you don’t want to let the moment slip through your fingers.

“To hell with it,” you mutter under your breath as you step into his personal space. You open the umbrella and extend your arm, hoping he’ll take the umbrella.

He looks from you, to the umbrella, to the bus rolling to a stop. His eyebrows furrow. “I can’t take it. What about you?”

“I’ll be fine, just take it!” You look at him expectantly.

His hand reaches forward, his fingers brushing against your own, his larger hand encasing yours for a split second as you slip the umbrella into his grasp. Upon feeling the warmth of his hand your cheeks heat up.

“What can I give you in return?”

“Your name.” You say it with a slight lilt in your voice, clearly amused.

“Bokuto.”

You repeat his name barely above a whisper, and it’s already the sweetest thing he’s ever heard. And he wants nothing more than to hear you say his name again.

The bus driver honks, giving Bokuto a warning. He gives you a sheepish smile as he climbs onto the bus. Only when he’s in his seat does he realize he never got your name. As he’s putting your umbrella into his gym bag, he notices the patch you had sewn onto the umbrella with your name and number embroidered into the patch of fabric.

And yeah, maybe Bokuto hated the rain this morning, but having rushed to catch his usual bus on time, effectively forgetting his umbrella, led him to you. Your conversation, mundane as it may have been, would be the most eventful part of his day, even more so than his stressful morning.

Bokuto pulls out his phone, fingers adding your number to his contact list without a second thought, your name rolling off his tongue in a whisper, lips pulling into a soft smile.

He wastes no time in tapping on the call button, bouncing his leg while he waits for the phone to dial. The call is answered after the first ring, and he waits with baited breath to hear you speak his name again.

“Bokuto?”

He releases the breath he was holding, a boyish grin spreading across his face. He swears he can hear the smile in your voice, in the way you say his name like a prayer, and his smile only grows as he looks outside the bus window, a few grey clouds parting to show the hazy blue sky that had been hiding behind them.

“Hey, y/n.”

bokuto is sure that, if he had to know you by anything besides the obvious things, besides your voice or the rise of your cheeks or the pull of your lips into a smile, he would know you by your breath. He could know you by nothing more than a sigh crossing your tongue or by the inhale you take before you speak.

and now, as he hears your stuttered breath as it hits against his skin, he’s sure he would still know you, no matter the situation. your fingers are wobbling as you wring them together, and though you don’t cry, bokuto knows that there must be an awful tightness in your throat, one that feels a bit too much like suffocating.

“you don’t have to sit here and listen to this, kou,” you say, and your voice is terribly shaky.

“i want to,” he replies, and he smiles, something pulling and carving into his cheeks that feels a little sweet on his tongue.

and then you laugh—weak, hardly more than a rushed sigh, but there’s something saccharine and lovely about it, something that, even when you’re shaken and there’s little lines between your brows and he’s sure you have a headache, that still seems a little joyous.

“okay,” you whisper, “okay. thank you.”

and bokuto doesn’t dare say another word, a little too happy to twine his hands with yours to stop the way you’ve been wringing them, too content with pressing his thumbs into your skin in little patterns, and entirely too enraptured by the way you speak to dare interrupt you or move away.

and the truth is, bokuto doesn’t know how to fix what’s worrying you. he doesn’t know the words to say or have the solution to everything. he’s glad you don’t ask him for that either, he’s glad you allow him to listen, above all else.

(and when your breath is no longer stuttered, when it begins to fan against him as it normally does, he’ll press kisses along your cheeks until laughter bubbles past your lips like it does late at night. when you allow him, he’ll kiss you until his cheeks are red and until yours are sore).

a little gift for @kim-jonginism <3 i hope everything works out soon :(

grocery store...date?

characters: bokuto, fem! reader, akaashi (briefly)

wc: 3.3k

warnings: none?

a/n: for the xoxo, valentine's collab by the i tried🌱 server; managed to post this while it's still valentine's day (in the pst time zone at least); also not proofread

Your hands are shaking, phone in a vice-like grip in your hand that’s lifted to your ear. The call ended a few seconds ago but all you can hear is your blood rushing. Your knuckles are probably a ghostly white by now, but you can’t seem to put the phone down. Bokuto called…that was a phone call from Bokuto…he called you. He called to ask you to accompany him to the grocery store. Hold on, the grocery store? Is that supposed to be a code word for something romantic?

You mull over all possible date ideas for today, Valentine’s Day, and the grocery store isn’t on the list. What’s romantic about that? You drop your phone on the couch, nerves permanently pooling in your stomach. You’re nervous to say the least, you feel it all the way to the tips of your fingers, so you wring your hands. If only you knew that you weren’t the only one losing their grip on sanity.

Bokuto paces back and forth as he waits for Akaashi to answer his call. Akaashi isn’t able to get a word out before Bokuto is babbling at 100 miles a minute. “IaskedheroutandIcan’tstopshaking.” Akaaashi bites back a laugh, because he knows exactly what Bokuto said, yet chooses to press further to make him all the more nervous.

“Bokuto-san, what did you say? If you want me to understand, you have to breathe through your words.” He hears the deep breath Bokuto takes, he can even hear the soft pitter-patter of Bokuto’s feet on the floor while he paces.

“I…asked…her…out.”

Akaashi knows you’ve both been pining for one another ever since you became friends. Everyone notices the stolen glances between the two of you. He had caught his friend side-eyeing you or flicking his gaze to you first in any group setting one too many times. Akaashi has known you longer than Bokuto, he knows your tells and can easily spot the difference in your gaze, no matter how slight, when you look at Bokuto. Your eyes soften, shoulders slumping as you relax in his presence, even the way you stand changes-your arms that were previously crossed over your chest now at your sides. You open up like a book, and he can read you easily.

If only Bokuto would catch on, because he notices how at ease his friend feels when he’s around you. So, it confuses him that Bokuto is currently wound tight, clearly panicking because he’s going to be alone with you. There’s a stark contrast between his usual easy-going nature when he’s around you and his current state-an absolute wreck. It’s not his first date, but you’d think otherwise had you been able to see him now.

“Bokuto-san, you’re usually so calm and collected around her. What’s different about today?”

“Akaashi, it’s Valentine’s Day!”

Akaashi fails to see the life-or-death situation his friend finds himself in. His phone pings to alert him of an incoming call. Glancing at the screen, he chuckles when he sees your name. “I’ll call you back Bokuto-san.”

Bokuto blurts out incoherent words before the line goes dead for a brief second while your call connects.

“Akaashi…I’m freaking out!”

This time, Akaashi doesn’t hide his laugh, to which you grimace. Talk about mean. “You know this isn’t a funny matter.”

“Let me guess, Bokuto called you to ask you out and you agreed?”

“That’s the thing! He asked me to go with him to a grocery store!”

Akaashi’s smile is frozen on his face. Bokuto hadn’t told him where he was going to take you, and a grocery store doesn’t exactly sound like it has “date potential”. “Gimme a sec.”

“Akaashi, wait!” Too late. He hangs up and dials Bokuto’s number.

“Bokuto-san, a grocery store?!”

Bokuto cringes and pulls the phone away from his ear. Once Akaashi’s voice has lowered, Bokuto continues, tone suddenly serious. “Look, it sounds ridiculous I know, but…but…hear me out. I was nervous okay. I know I’m calm around her, but we’ve never hung out alone, let alone go on a date! When we hang out it’s always been the three of us. I’ve been meaning to ask her out but every time I look at her the words that I spent hours rehearsing at night in bed, the confessions I’ve spent going over and over in my head the seconds before we meet up, it all disappears as soon as I look at her.” His tone softens by the time he’s done with his spiel, and Akaashi knows his intentions are in the right place. Bokuto’s intentions are always in the right place.

“So, why the grocery store?”

“I still haven’t got the courage to ask her out on an official date. I suppose asking her to accompany me to do mundane tasks will help me feel more at ease when it’s just the two of us.”

“Why are you so worried, Bokuto-san?”

“What if she’s disappointed by what she sees when we’re alone…that’s why I’m so nervous.”

Akaashi hums, and before ending the call he tries his best to console his worry-wart of a friend. “I think everything will be okay, Bokuto-san.”

Bokuto sighs deeply, feeling somewhat consoled. “Thanks, Akaashi.”

Their call ends, and Akaashi calls you back. “Before you say anything, I don’t think you have to worry about anything. Just…enjoy the moment. Deal?”

You’re stunned to say the least. “Alright, deal.”

Akaashi hangs up and collapses on the couch. Who knew playing cupid could be so exhausting?

So here you are, trusting your gut and your friend, waiting for Bokuto to pick you up from your home. You weren’t sure how to dress considering it is the grocery store, so you went with a casual yet very appropriate outfit given the holiday. You keep pacing from your couch to the window, antsy for his arrival. What would you even talk about?

You’re sure you’re wearing a trail into your floor after about the 6th time you’ve walked to the window in under 3 minutes. You’re about to turn back to your couch when, out of the corner of your eye, you see Bokuto’s car. Your heart races as you book it to the couch, sitting as if you had been calmly waiting and not on the verge of passing out.

With your foot’s incessant tapping and the sweat beginning to bead on your forehead you swear you’ll never forgive Akaashi for roping you into this. Your breath hitches when you hear light knocking against your door. You stand up and wipe the palms of your hands on your skirt, legs wobbly as you walk toward the door. You fill your lungs with air, hold it for a few seconds then exhale, and practically rip the door open and off its hinges. You shrug sheepishly. “Sorry.”

All Bokuto can do is stare at you with a stupidly enamored look on his face, words that had been on the tip of his tongue suddenly dissolving. His mouth hangs slightly open, and you gather what is probably the most courage you’ve ever had so you can take his chin within your thumb and forefinger to close his mouth.

You misinterpret his silence as judgment. You look yourself over and feel overdressed. “The skirt was a bad call huh? I knew it was too much.”

You’re about to head toward your room when Bokuto sputters out that he thinks you look fine. “Actually, more than fine. You’re pretty.” His eyes widen and he stumbles over his correction. “I mean you look pretty.” He inwardly groans and sweeps his arm out in a grand gesture, leading you out the door. “After you.”

You try to fight back the smile but it’s no use really. It’s hard not to smile around him. You step out to allow him to shut the door, then lock up afterward.

He holds his arm out for you to take, which you graciously clutch because you’re absolutely sure that if you walk without support, you’ll fall flat on your face. The walk to his car is uneventful, just as uneventful as the drive to the grocery store.

And by uneventful, I mean quiet. You can tell there’s tension between the two of you, and the only thing saving you is the music playing quietly in the car. You look out the window, hand clutching your skirt in a poor attempt to ground you.

“Bokuto…what do you have to get at the grocery store?” You turn to look at him while your hand lowers the window a bit to get rid of the suffocating feeling settling like a fog.

“Uh, groceries.”

“Huh, you don’t say.”

Bokuto clears his throat and tightens his grip on the steering wheel. He hopes a wormhole opens up and swallows him, anything really. “I’m sorry. I’m just nervous.”

And for the first time you feel like you can be genuine with him, a smile gracing your lips as your eyes land on his side profile, gaze softening. “I am too, don’t worry.”

Bokuto’s eyes light up once he sees the market front, excited about the prospect of free samples. “Have you ever been here before?”

“I can’t say that I have.” You eye him curiously, wondering what put him in a good mood so suddenly.

He rushes out of the car and heads to your side, opening the door for you like the true gentleman he is. He leans closer to you as he excitedly tells you about the yummy free samples they offer. “I think they might even have chocolate considering what today is.” The boy practically drags you into the store as he tells you about all the food he’s tried here. His strides are longer than yours and you’re huffing embarrassingly loud by the time you’re both in the store.

He looks down at you and notices your flushed cheeks and smiles. “Sorry, I just can’t wait for you to try the stuff they give out.” And with a smile as warm as that you’re sure you’d forgive just about everything he could possibly put you through…everything short of anything illegal.

You had to have some dignity left.

He takes your hand, nerves and worries nothing but a distant memory now, as he leads you around the store. While you’re on the verge of combusting, Bokuto seems calm. He’s not as tense as he was when he was at your doorstep. You want to ask why, and if you did Bokuto would tell you that it’s because being with you is easy, it’s as easy as taking a breath of fresh air. But you don’t ask. You do ask what it was he needed from the grocery store.

“We can look for that later, let’s find the free samples first.” And you have no choice but to follow him because he’s got your hand firm in his grasp, but you wouldn’t dare tell him to let go. It’s not like you want to tell him to let go either, you’re content. So you let Bokuto pull you along, not wanting to pop the bubble of excitement he’s created for the two of you.

He spots a set up with an assortment of chocolates and skids to a stop. He stands behind you and places his hands on your shoulders. “Tell me you see it too.”

“The set up?”

He doesn’t even answer, just pushes you forward and lets you lead the way. The worker on the opposite side of you smiles and urges you both to try any piece of the small delicacies. Bokuto waits for you to pick one, and he grabs a different piece, claiming that this way you both can split it in half so you both get to try two different chocolates. You can’t argue with logic. You both take a bite out of the chocolates, then promptly trade.

“What do you think?”

You hum, still unsure of which one you liked best. “I think I like yours better.”

He shakes his head, adamant about your pick being better. You concede, because again, who are you to deny him of anything when he’s looking at you so intensely. He’s smitten with you, and just like you’d do anything for him, he’d do anything for you. Ask him for the moon and he’ll ask where he can buy a rocket ship. Ask him for flowers that only grow in some remote part of the country and he’d be on the first flight there. Ask him to stop the world and he’ll figure it out.

So, while Bokuto pulls you along from kiosk to kiosk, trying every confection available, spouting about what flavors he likes best and hanging onto every word you speak, you realize there is nothing to be nervous about. Because my god he is easy to get along with. He could have met you last week and he’d make you feel like he’s known you for years.

You stare up at him, a soft smile curving your lips as you watch him eat yet another sample. He looks down and sees the dessert he handed you still in the palm of your hand. “You didn’t even try it,” and you hear the pout in his voice.

“Sorry,” your cheeks feel warm as you look down and split the dessert in half. You place the bigger half in his palm and pop your half into your mouth before he can protest about you giving him the bigger piece.

“Don’t think I didn’t notice you giving me the bigger piece. You get the next one, okay?” You look around and hope Bokuto does too because you don’t think he’s noticed that this is the last table of free samples.

“Bokuto, we’ve already made our way around the whole store!” You don’t fight the urge to laugh this time. You turn him toward the exit of the store. “See? There aren’t any more samples to try.”

“There are…if you’re a new customer.”

You nod your head. “Right, but we’re not. They’ll recognize us in an instant, Bo.”

He short circuits at the nickname, craving to hear you call him that again. He never knew a name could sound so heavenly the way his just did, and he swears he could propose to you then and there.

You nudge him with your elbow, hoping to catch his attention. “Bokuto?”

That definitely snaps him out of it, though his full surname sounds just as pretty when spoken by you. “They won’t recognize us if we have a disguise.”

You chew on your bottom lip, hating the way you’re already willing to cave. Plus, you’re curious to see how far he’ll take this. “Okay, count me in.”

Again, you’re dragged by Bokuto, his warm hand encasing your own as he pulls you toward his car. He unlocks the passenger side door so he can shuffle through the things in the glove compartment. Finding a pair of sunglasses, he smiles in delight as he hands them to you. He then checks the trunk, hoping to find anything. There isn’t much that’ll help, and you deduce that in under 5 minutes you’ll both be getting kicked out of the store, but why not let him have his fun.

He pulls out a jacket and a baseball cap, placing it on his head as he tries to hide his hair. He finds an extra pair of shades and puts those on while motioning for you to put on the pair he handed you moments ago. He’s about to hand you the jacket when you stop him. “It’ll be too big on me Bo, it’ll make us look even more suspicious than we already do.”

He shrugs, smiling at you with a childlike innocence as he takes your hand in his again. “What if I wait outside?” His smile falls.

“But I wanna go with you.”

“I know but if you go in by yourself, they may not recognize you. If I go, they definitely will.”

By now you both are standing off to the side of the entrance of the store. You can actually see the cogs turning in Bokuto’s brain, formulating some kind of plan. “Okay, I’ll sneak out some samples for you then.”

“Sounds like a plan.” You squeeze his hand before he lets go and saunters into the store, his walk a little too forced to seem nonchalant. So, you wait, and while you do, you start timing him, checking your phone every so often to see how much time has passed. He’s managed to be in there for five minutes with his ridiculous charade, and you can’t believe he’s gotten away with it this far.

You’re about to peek in when the glass doors slide open and out comes Bokuto…accompanied by a security guard.

Your lips quiver as you try to hold in your laugh, not wanting to anger the security guard who doesn’t look pleased with the wide-eyed man in front of you. Bokuto apologizes and is let go, and as soon as the security guard is out of ear shot you both burst into a fit of laughter. Tears spring to both yours and his eyes as you clutch your stomach, the giggles getting the best of you.

Bokuto lets the laughter fade, and he just watches as you wipe the tears from the corners of your eyes, completely in love. It’s now or never, he thinks. And before you turn your attention to him, he blurts out his confession.

“I like you!”

You freeze, unsure if he said what you think he just said. It sounds like a confession, it made you feel like you were just confessed to, but…is it a confession? Slowly, you look at him. And there he is, offering you half of a piece of chocolate, already somewhat melted from the warmth of his palm. So, he did manage to grab one sample.

“As in…”

He finishes your sentence for you, nodding his head desperately, hoping you understand what he means, hoping you can feel what he’s feeling in the moment-fear, adoration, and maybe a little bit of nausea. Okay, so he hopes you don’t feel everything he’s feeling.

You close the gap between you, moving his arm aside because the chocolate is far too melted to eat now, and cup his face in your hand. You crane your neck, tilting his head so you can press a kiss to his cheek. Bokuto swears he’s about to pass out, feeling incredibly lightheaded once he feels your soft lips against the skin of his cheek. “Thank you,”

You snort, quirking an eyebrow as you stare at the man before you. “For what?

“For giving me a kiss.” He’s got a lovesick grin on his face, eyes practically hearts as he stares at you dopily. Looking down, he notices the chocolate has completely melted. “I guess you don’t want the chocolate anymore, do you?”

You take his other hand and lead him to the car, where you’re sure you had seen anti-bacterial wipes in his trunk, and shake your head in response to his question. “Nope, but I will go on a date with you. To be fair though, this was pretty fun, and it was funny seeing you get kicked out.”

He lets out a laugh as he opens his trunk, and you grab a wipe before he can. Holding his hand in yours, you begin cleaning up the mess he’s made. “Speaking of,” he starts, so you tilt your head up to look at him while he speaks. He takes the sunglasses off your face and tosses them into the trunk, not really caring whether they break, he just wants to see your pretty eyes. “I was banned from the store.”

Your eyes crinkle as you laugh again, unapologetically so. And Bokuto finds comfort in the fact that you feel comfortable enough around him that you don’t have to fake a laugh or hide your smile. He mirrors your smile, unable to peel his eyes away from you. And when that feeling he gets around you settles in his chest, he knows in his heart that this isn’t something casual or some fling. It’s permanent, and he’ll spend his whole life making sure it stays that way.

⊱• Outshine them all, little dude•⊰

⊱•Dad! Bokuto

⊱•Genre: Fluff, Slice of Life

⊱•WC: 1k

⊱• A/N: Thanks to the brain rot of big Bo and tiny mini Bo and for the Chaos Corner for not helping me out to get over that image in my head. Brr Bree.

The moonlight cast the hospital room in a silverish glow. Serenity had settled in after hours of exhausting work. Only the slightly muted sound of the machine that checked on your heartbeat, the periodic sound of your breath while you were sleeping, and him.

Bokuto’s eyes were filled with wonder as he stared down at the babe in the crib. There he was, the l little kidney-bean-shaped splotch on the sonogram, the slight kick against your swollen belly, the reason for your peanut butter and pickle cravings at three in the morning. Your son, a tuft of white hair and chubby cheeks, lips slightly parted to let out the smallest of sounds.

Bokuto had been afraid to pick him up. Barely the length of his arm, weight less than a Volleyball…and him, being the big and boisterous guy he was, Koutarou felt like he could break him by touch alone. He had cried as his son entered the world and was placed on you. The littlest thing screaming, and he could not help himself, his heart not being able to contain the emotion. Flowing over and spilling, dripping over his cheeks in hot splotches.

“You did it….you did it, darling,” he whispered, pressing kisses and praises to your temple. A job well done. He was proud, exhausted but proud, and now he kept staring at him in the little crib next to your bed, trying not to make too much noise since you deserved a bit of sleep.

Another small grunt, a slight stretch, and his son opened his eyes, and Bokuto swore his gaze, with eyes golden as he shot an arrow right through his soul. Pink lips parted, letting out a chitter, tugging his father’s into a slight grin.

“Hey …hey…hey little dude….had a nice nap, buddy?”

Bokuto looked around, checking if you were still asleep, then back into the crib. Was he allowed to touch him? Technically, it was his own son…but he didn’t want to touch something he was not supposed to touch. Like the fire alarm button in school…but that was when he was a fool. He was a man now, a father.

He quietly disinfected his hands with a gel on your nightstand and picked up the bundle that was getting fuzzier.

“Little dude, we don’t want to wake your mama, okay? She needs sleep okay…” he said softly, speaking, but it felt like even his whispers were cannonballs in the quiet of the room.

He sat down on the sofa in the room that was way too small for him to get rest, the blanket was way too thin to cover him, but he had not minded at all.

“You know,” he said, placing his son onto his legs, brushing a thumb over the tiny hairs already sticking up, defying gravity.

“I wasn’t able to sleep…. I was making a list of what I have to do now…how to babyproof the house, what toys to buy…what books to read. You know….I was always the fun uncle…you have a bunch of cousins but I have never been a dad you know…and honestly little dude… I am a big scared.”

He paused, watching his son blink at him.

“Hey…hey…hey, no judgement here… I have literally never done this before…and your mom…well…she is amazing…” he paused to glance at you, checking if you were still sleeping, then added. “And I’m sure she is miles better at this parenting stuff than I will be…but I promise you, little dude… I will try my best.”

“We are going to have so much fun, making cookies, throwing balls… I might even teach you my super awesome line shot…oh, and I’ll build a tree house…well, we don’t exactly have a tree…but I will plant one and then build you a treehouse….”

The little boy in his arms continued fuzzing, and slight panic rose in Bokuto’s chest. What should he do, wake you up? Call the nurse? Would Akaashi know what to do? What was the thing the scary nurse had told him skin to skin?

Maybe he should try this thing. Hesitantly, Bokuto reached behind him and pulled his shirt off in a swift motion, tossing it to the side, then fumbled with the tiny buttons on his son’s onesie.

He transferred him into his arm and was amazed at how small he looked against the length of his forearm and pulled the warm babe against him. A tiny heartbeat, a flutter like a little bird. Tears prickled in his eyes once more when his son opened his eyes again, looking up. Softly cooing, the sound no longer fuzzy but content.

“Your dad….” he sighed, poking his son’s cheek, smiling when he opened his mouth and let out a slight complaining noise. “Is a looser… I am emotional… I am a mess, but you know…that’s okay…never be afraid of showing emotions. Don’t hide them, little dude…be true to yourself. That is important….whatever…you want to do in life…be true to yourself.”

He lifted a finger, gently pointing onto the little chest that was rising and lowering in a beautiful rhythm.

“Your heart, little dude…is a very beautiful and important thing to keep save. It’s important that you love and let yourself be loved okay?” he took a deep breath as he choked on his following words, “I love you very much little dude…never forget that….”

He hesitated again, then bent to press his lips onto his son’s forehead, smelling his scent. Peach fuzz hair, soft against his lips.

“I’ll also teach you how to style your hair….super awesome like your dad…we’ll match,” he grinned slightly, “People won’t even know which Bokuto is who…mini me…don’t worry…they’ll know you….”

He said and stood up, walking around so he could rock him back to sleep.

“One day the world is going to know your name, little dude….outshine the morning sun, outshine the stars and the moon above, outshine them all, little dude….”

The baby blinked sleepily, yawned, and closed his eyes.

“But for now, my son...” Bokuto whispered softly, “Sweet dreams…Bokuto Hikaru”

Bokuto didn’t know the words for any lullaby, another thing he would have to learn in time, but humming the tune was enough for now.

⊱•REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED • MASTERLIST • Ask Box📬•⊰

Dating Application

pairing: Bokuto x reader

content: fluff overload, Bokuto being the most adorable person on the planet.

Hinata invites you to meet his teammates. He’s an old friend you recently reconnected with and you finally had a chance to make it to one of his games. Naturally, he wants to introduce you to everyone.

You’re making small talk with them, as the platinum blonde you came to know as Atsumu flirts, “are you and Sho dating? Or can I make ya mine, angel?”

“No. I’m single”, you state matter of factly.

“How’re you single?!” Bokuto joins in, asking with eyebrows furrowed.

“Cuz I don’t want to date”, you shrugged having heard the question so many times.

His bright golden eyes widen a little, “oh ok.”

While you’re waiting for Hinata to get his bag and take you home, Bokuto sits with you. “Do you wanna get coffee with me sometime?” You nod thinking nothing of a harmless hangout. “Really?! Ok. How about tomorrow?”

“Sounds good. Hand me your phone.” He pulls it out of his pocket and you add your name and number as a new contact. “Just text me the info.” Hinata is waving you down that he’s ready to go. “See you tomorrow!” you kindly say with a wave.

The next day you arrive at the cafe and see Bokuto at a table for two. You sit across from him and he hands you what looks like a resume.

“…what is this?”

“It’s a dating application. I know you’re not really wanting applicants but I hope you’ll consider me anyway. By no means am I trying to cross any boundaries. At the very least i’m sure it’ll put a smile on your face.”

You observe the document full of random information about him. “The guys helped me put it together” he breaks the silence.

“Why is this here?” you point to the section on his hand size.

“Atsumu told me to add that. I guess if you’re ever thinking about holding my hand, you’ll know how big it is.” He sticks his hand up, palm facing you. You place your hand against his to compare hand sizes. His being significantly larger than yours.

You look away from his lightly blushing face to continue down the list of characteristics, qualities, and opinions.

“You even have references. Who’s Akaashi?”

“That’s my best friend. He knows me better than I know myself honestly.”

“I thought exes would go there but that’s cute.”

He smiles at your first acknowledgment to him handing you this dating application as being a good thing.

You start giggling and Bokuto is begging to know what part is making you laugh. “Why did you include approximate days out of the year you get sick?”

“Oh, Sakusa said that was important.”

The more you read, the more you learn about the man sitting before you. You’d heard a lot about him from Hinata back in high school and even now. Hinata always spoke highly about how much he helped him train and how much he inspired him.

You smiled as you read the next section. Respectfulness: I have two older sisters (yes I’m the baby) but i’m the one who was there to beat up any guys who broke their hearts or yell at anyone who cat called them. Guys can be creeps but i’m not like that…unless you think this dating application thing is creepy then i’m so sorry.

“What do ya think?” he asks nervously, looking up at you and biting his lip.

“I think you just might get hired for the position.”

“Maybe an interview like this” he points at the description of his ideal first date — which consisted of going to a carnival and seeing who can win the most plushies — “will help you decide.”

taglist: @sunbeamx @suniken @biderwoman @keigotakamiaddict @0rodi0 <join here>

clingy in the a.m

characters: bokuto x gn! reader wc: 888 warnings: mildly suggestive at the end, like VERY mild you have to squint to see it a/n: me posting my writing in this economy?! damn 😟

The countertop is cold beneath your bare thighs, the edge digging into your skin as your feet loosely hook around Bokuto’s legs…that is, if he could stand still. You’d think that he’d be less fidgety in the morning when sleep weighs heavy on his mind, but alas, he’s clingy when he’s sleepy…and so he keeps pawing at your sides, fingers clutching the sides of your shirt-his shirt, actually.

You let out a frustrated sigh, the hand holding his face tightens its grip to straighten Bo’s face. “Love, can you stand still so I don’t cut your pretty face?”

He lets out a quiet whine, hands running down along your sides until they’re resting atop your thighs. He spreads your legs just a little more, situating himself between them, ignoring the hiss that slips past your lips at the slight strain to your muscles. “Sorry, ‘m sleepy.”

“I told you to sleep earlier,” you mutter under your breath and resume the task at hand. He never lets it grow out much, opting for a cleaner look; so as soon as he feels the stubble, he drags you into the bathroom, begging that you help him shave. Personally, you think it’s just an excuse for him to be handsy, but no matter…not like you mind having his hands on you.

Though, it’s definitely distracting. His warm, calloused hands rub your thighs absentmindedly. You assume he isn’t doing it on purpose by the far out look in his eyes, that doesn’t mean it doesn’t drive you any less insane. Setting the razor aside, you cradle his face with your hands as you turn him to face you. “I’m almost done, just a few more minutes…please, Bo.”

His gaze leaves his reflection behind you and finds your own. His eyes soften, a complete contrast of the sly smile tilting the corner of his lips. “What’s the matter?”

You lower one of your hands to squeeze his side playfully, hating just how small he makes you feel…again…not that you hate it, if anything you use it to your advantage. He can’t help himself most of the time. According to him, you’re much too irresistible. He squeezes your thighs in return, acknowledging that yes, he’s well aware of what he’s doing despite not being fully awake yet. He’s insufferable, really.

He kisses the tip of your nose, a wordless promise that he’ll stay still long enough for you to finish. Picking up the razor, you finish up the other half of his face, making sure not to use a heavy hand so as to not hurt him, brows furrowed in concentration as you try to ignore the fact that he’s looking straight at you.

His promise holds no weight, as you knew it wouldn’t, because his thumbs start to rub circles into your inner thighs. Your legs try to squeeze shut out of habit, his wide torso keeping you from doing so. Biting your lip, you release a breath you didn’t know you were holding through your nose, tossing the razor into the sink beside you.

You lean over to grab a face towel from a basket on the counter, putting it under running water long enough for it to dampen. Holding his face with one hand, you wipe his face clean with the damp towel in your other hand. “You’re all set,” you press a kiss to his lips after throwing the towel into the open hamper in the corner of the bathroom, though you miss by a bit, the towel landing on the edge of the hamper. Your hands find perch on his shoulders, firm beneath your touch. “Now go put on a shirt.”

His hands glide underneath your thighs so he can hoist you up, guiding your legs around his hips as he leaves the bathroom, peppering kisses to your face in adoration. “Thank you, love. Sorry for waking you up so early.”

You shrug, fingers playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. “You know I’d do anything for you, no matter how early.” He sets you down on the bed, hands resting on either side of you, his figure leaning into your personal bubble, albeit that doesn’t exist when you’re Bokuto Koutaro’s lover.

He snorts, a hand giving your thigh another squeeze. “That’s funny, considering you didn’t wanna get out of bed this morning when I asked you to help me out.” That’s another kiss to the corner of your lips-something he likes to do at the end of his sentences.

“I just needed an incentive.”

One of his brows shoots up, smirk returning to his lips, a hint of playfulness evident in his tone. “And what would that incentive be?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Perhaps it involves you running late to practice.” You tug at his hair a little harder, and he doesn’t miss a beat, body pressing yours into the mattress as he leans forward…he’s not content until he’s completely wrapped around you.

It’s too easy to rile him up, all you’ve gotta do is say something mildly suggestive and his thoughts run wild, as is obvious by the way his hands are already searching for skin to skin contact beneath your shirt.

And true to your word, he was in fact late to practice, as he will be tomorrow morning…and the morning after that.