Bokuto X You - Tumblr Posts

so i saw a tiktok about an athlete in the olympics who lost his wedding ring in the river during the opening ceremony…

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

and i couldn’t help but think of sweet, sweet bokuto who doesn’t mean to lose the ring, but he’s just so clumsy. and afterwards, he’s absolutely mortified and stresses so bad that you’ll be upset with him.

granted, you are sad, but you understand it wasn’t intentional. you just nod with a soft, slightly forced smile, telling him, “it’s okay, kou. focus on the games for now. we can worry about it another time.”

but bokuto can’t seem to forgive himself…

until he gets an idea. your anniversary is coming up soon…

so when japan claims the victory against argentina and wins the gold, bokuto turns to you in the stands, watching as you happily cheer him on. he basks in the spotlight and relishes the feeling of you, his sweet wife of five years, always supporting him no matter what.

while you’ve always known bokuto to be an unpredictable human being in all your years together, nothing could prepare you for this. all the cameras pan to bokuto with his usual dazzling smile, and they zoom in on the beautiful ring, adorned with your favorite gem, as he yells out, “marry me again!”

and with a shy nod and wide smile, you feel yourself fall in love with him all over again.♡

a/n: akaashi helped him come up with this idea

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please do not repost or alter my work. © @bokutoko

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."

  cuteness aggression ᵕ̈       boyfie!timeskip!bokuto kōtarō       x gn reader ˎˊ˗

⋮⋮ ˒ ₍ᐢ..ᐢ₎ 𖥻 ⿻ : your boyfriend is quite ⋮⋮  literally too cute in the mornings

📋 content     ♡ # 𝘧𝘭𝘶𝘧𝘧 🐮     ♡ # 𝘥𝘳𝘢𝘣𝘣𝘭𝘦 🥛     ♡ # 1𝘬 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥𝘴

🧸 directory  ‹ ✩  like what you read ? check out more of my blog !  •ᴗ•

8:25 am. both you and bokuto have the day off.

you're leaning against the kitchen counter, one of bokuto's shirts loosely hanging off of your frame. as your thumb instinctively scrolls through your feed, the bubbling of hot water brewing for your morning drink sounds off next to you.

you're vaguely aware of the steam drifting up from the top of the machine when your eyes land on a post from an official msby account.

it was video where they had bokuto running around the msby locker room interviewing his teammates. the questions were along the lines of “favorite point you’ve won”, “court position you would try for a day”, “how do you wear your kneepads off court”, yadayadayada—

the questions didn’t really matter to you at the current moment. what caught your attention, of course, was your lovely boyfriend.

you watched his bright eyes as he excitedly talked to the camera and as they were trained on his teammates while he intently listened to their responses.

the same eyes that light up whenever he sees you, without fail. or the ones that glowed a warm amber when the afternoon sun hits them just right. ones you’ve seen on countless nights as bokuto lies on top of you with his chin softly resting on your chest, as he looks up at your face and his eyes dart over each and every feature on your face in utmost admiration.

and in the video he also smiles—a toothy and hearty smile where it’s so wide that little dimples appear at the sides of his face and some of his bottom teeth peek out from behind his bottom lip. his lips are rosy and full of life, just like him. and only you would know how soft they are, too, and the exact feeling of how they stretch into a content grin against your own lips when you kiss. it’s a smile you could never grow tired of.

everything about him is so charming. he’s adorable. some days you wish you could hide him from the world and keep him and his cuteness all to yourself.

and suddenly the urge just hits you—to hold him and hug him and smother him with affection. to cup his face in your hands and squish his cheeks so you can plant a big kiss on his lips. to nip the tip of his nose just to hopefully incite his laugh that brings music to your ears.

and guess what? you can do exactly that, right at this instant.

completely neglecting your brewing drink and leaving your phone laying flat on the countertop, you shuffle your way back through the apartment to you and bokuto’s shared bedroom.

you peek your head in and see he’s still out cold. the sunlight makes its way through the window blinds to cast shapes on your boyfriends bare chest, exposed by the sheets that he’s shoved down to his lower torso in his sleep.

a ray of light falls on his face, where his eyes are closed, his eyelashes brush against the tops his cheeks, and his mouth hangs open as he sleeps in and snores away.

the black and gray streaks of his hair are rendered messy and tussled as his head sinks into the pillow under it.

the other day you read about the phenomenon of, “cuteness aggression: desires to squeeze, crush, pinch, or even bite an object of our affection. scientists think it is a way we cope with intense positive emotions.”

yup. now you totally get it.

you approach his side of the bed and crawl on top of him, brushing your hands against his chest as you lean down to immediately start peppering his face in kisses. surely he’d wake up, and although you knew the previous night’s practice had taken a lot out of him and he deserved to sleep in for a little longer… the urge. the urge to gather him up in your arms with all the love in the world was simply just too strong.

his eyes not yet open, but his hands now moving to blindly search for your waist, his voice is groggy and rough as he mumbles, “this is an awesome way to start off my day.”

you let up with the face kisses for a moment and fight back a giggle as bokuto blinks one eye awake to get a good look at you first thing as he wakes up, “mornin’ gorgeous.”

too cute. butterflies fly around in your stomach while, firmly but gently, your hands go to hold his head in place as you resume to kiss him all over even more.

“what’s the occasion, baby?” he asks amidst being attacked by your displays of affection, his hands playing with the hem of his shirt on you.

“nothin’, just missed you,” you say between kisses, softly and just barely above a whisper.

“well i’m right here,” he smiles before stretching himself out under you, letting out a small whine as his body comes to before the day properly starts.

as he does this, you tap a finger on his nose and laugh when his face scrunches up in reaction, “kō, you look real cute in the morning, you know that?”

a sound of protest escapes from his throat as his arms wrap around you and he rolls you both over. now he hovers over you, and those pretty eyes gaze down at you. if only you could swim in those eyes and all the love they carry for you, forever.

but bokuto shifts so he can kiss you, and kiss you deep. when you part, you feel your heartbeat is racing and that maybe you don’t need caffeine this morning to wake up after all. not when your boyfriend is bokuto kōtarō, who brings something so inexplicably fulfilling to your life with each day you start waking up to him and his cute bedhead—his cute everything.

“not as much as you are all the time, cutie,” bokuto lazily argues and you lightheartedly roll your eyes with a small scoff.

now it’s his turn to “cope with intense positive emotions”, as you find yourself getting smothered with love—his love—in the messy sheets of your bed at around 9 in the morning.

  tough as nails ᵕ̈       boyfie!msby boys       x nail tech!gn reader ˎˊ˗

⋮⋮ ˒ ₍ᐢ..ᐢ₎ 𖥻 ⿻ : when you want ⋮⋮  to practice some designs ⋮⋮  and they volunteer them- ⋮⋮  selves as your test dummy !

📋 content     ♡ # 𝘧𝘭𝘶𝘧𝘧 🐮     ♡ # 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘤𝘢𝘯𝘰𝘯𝘴 🥛     ♡ # 𝘥𝘳𝘢𝘣𝘣𝘭𝘦𝘴 🥛     ♡ # ~2.5𝘬 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥𝘴

🧸 directory  ‹ ✩  like what you read ? check out more of my blog !  •ᴗ•

💬 kuroppiii  ─ “ ik that ' s not really the context of the saying in the title but i couldn ' t think of anything else ! nail pics as with all my other header pics are from pinterest <3 also lmk if you want to see more characters for this prompt bc highkey i loveee looking through nail designs lol ”

︴hinata shōyō ․﹒∗*○․﹒✧∘° 

this is not this man's first time around some nail polish

natsu used to paint his nails all the time, so he’s so down!

big color inspo from the colors of a classic blue and yellow mikasa volleyball because of his love for the sport (obvi)

howeverrr switching out the yellow for a bit more of an orange hue to go with his hair <3

also!!! some tropical floral designs as an homage to his time in brazil

a super fun vibe for a bright and go-lucky guy :)

when you first take his hand in yours, the tips of his ears start to redden a little bit

"hey shō are your ears alright–?" [you]

"your hands are so soft." [hinata]

"okay, shō." [you] (totally not fighting back a smile)

he's held your hand countless times but for some reason this–you holding his hand so gently and focusing in on it as you start prepping his nail beds–feels so much more intimate

seeing your face as you're so focused on him and his hands makes him blush lowk but good thing you're looking down and can't see how flustered he obviously is

like for someone so talkative, he's silent and almost as attentive as you the whole time and he's not even the one doing the work

you also notice he holds his breath every time you make the nail polish make contact with his nails until you finally lift back up CUTIEEE

“love, you know you can breathe, right?” [you]

“i don’t want to mess you up though! you’re doing so great by the way, babe.” [hinata]

cups your face when his nails are finally set and dry and you can see his eyes dart between your facial features and his nails contrasting against your skin and his smile gets bigger in real time

then he gives you a biggg kiss as a thank you for your hard work

definitely goes to every one of his teammates in the msby locker room his next practice to show them the nails

on tvs, cellphones, laptops and countless other kinds of screens everywhere: the camera following the msby jackals' game whips around to land their sights on hinata shōyō.

ten seconds remain on the clock. the jackals are behind their opponents by the most miniscule handful of points. in a last-ditch effort, atsumu's in place, and in a matter of seconds hinata is already high in the air.

the ball is met with a collision from the redhead's hand and quickly surpasses any of the opposition's lines of defense. an abrasive buzzer blares throughout the area and the msby jackals all start to jump onto one another with screams and yells and high fives in celebration.

"another excellent shot by hinata! what a way for the jackals to clutch this game folks!" a commentator excitedly blabbers.

"let's take another look at that one, shall we?" another accompanying commentator beckons.

time slows on screen during the instant replay–from the moment hinata gets in front of the net, to the moment his feet leave the ground, and especially as his arm is reeled back moments before the winning shot.

the camera takes the liberty of zooming in on hinata’s hand then. it captures the precise moment when his purest love and energy for volleyball surges through his body. the unseen electricity has ricocheted throughout him to finally trail up to his fingertips, adorned with colors that showcase the blend of his identity with the same ball his skin almost adoringly caresses for a second in the eyes on the slow-mo cam footage.

blue and yellow, blue and orange side-by-side in front of thousands and millions of eyes to witness as the ninja shōyō’s manicured hand follows through and pushes that volleyball past the net to bring his team to victory.

︴sakusa kiyoomi ․﹒∗*○․﹒✧∘° 

as babygirl as sakusa kiyoomi is, black’s just really his vibe i think

not on like some emo shit but the black would go really well with not only his hair but his iconic beauty marks above his eye

speaking of his hair, the cyber tribal chrome kind of sitch kinda alludes to his curls :0

i mean to the rest of the world he’s this stoic and serious guy all the time

but they don't see how he looks at you while you paint the finer details on his nails

or the subtle and soft dopey smile he’s got on as he asks you in lovestruck whispers about your technique, how work's going, what materials you use, etc.

"and... what's this for now?" [sakusa]

"it's to make sure your nails stay nice and strong for whenever you hit your incredible spikes, omi." [you]

"oh, that's definitely important. wouldn't want to skip that." [sakusa] (before you laugh at his little joke and his heart skips a beat and he gives you a quick kiss on the top of your head as you continue to work)

once the nails are finished, he goes to look at them with his fingers clawed–boyishly characteristic of a dude who's never gotten his nails done like this before

you can't help but laugh and he asks what's wrong

"what do you mean i'm looking at them weird?" [sakusa]

"your hands look like when you posed with the msby jackal mascot that one time." [you]

"how else am i supposed to look at them?" [sakusa]

you demonstrate how people normally check out their nails at the salon

and then it delves into a mini hand modeling lesson and many, many, giggles between the two of you as he tries to figure it out

you end up with some new reference pics of his set for any of your future clients, what a supportive boyfriend!

a certain photo is going viral as it makes its rounds online. the photographer who took it had to have known they struck gold capturing this certain moment, and the racking number of likes and comments are only affirmations of that.

it's a professional shot of sakusa kiyoomi mid-game. late-game, actually, as its evident though the state of his appearance in the picture.

visible droplets dot his face and figure, giving his skin and curly hair a certain sheen that proves the dedication he puts into every one of the msby jackals' games. to combat the sweat that's accumulated on himself, it seems like sakusa had absentmindedly reached for the edge of his jersey to act as a substitute for a towel in that particular moment (his expression is clearly focused on nothing but what might've been happening next on the other side of the court net). the muscles that adorn his torso peek out from the action.

and on top of it all–the sweat, the abs, the way the rest of the jersey clings to the rest of his body–the subtle chrome detailing of his nails stand out where his hand tugs the fabric to wipe at the bottom of his face...

and you hadn't even really caught on to this picture online yourself. the only reason you went to look it up for yourself was because of the influx of work emails you had received since the jackals' last win.

the public was vaguely aware you specialized in cosmetics, as sakusa had alluded to now and then in press conferences and interviews. however, it wasn't really until people online started to wonder where your boyfriend got these nails from did google's reverse-image search bring them to the pictures on your profile that you and sakusa took post- his manicure.

to say your clientele grew overnight, would be quite the understatement.

︴miya atsumu ․﹒∗*○․﹒✧∘° 

ik the picture is a bit blurry but PLEASE stick with me here yall 🙏 HEAR ME OUT

heavy on that barbie ken atsumu sort of agenda

you ask if he had any colors in mind

and he’s like "y'know what? fuck it. go big or go home."

he knows people might shit on him for having his nails done at his next game so yeah get the most stereotypically “feminine” color you got–just to mess with whatever losers might whine about it

“but... do ya think pink would look good on me y/n?” [atsumu] (AND HE'S KIND OF SHY WHEN HE'S ASKING YOU)

"OF COURSE IT WOULD BABY??" [you]

as you're ducked down working, he misses seeing your face

so he cranes his neck and looks up at you from where his hands are

"hey baby, funny seeing you here." [atsumu]

"tsumu, stay still!" [you]

"sorry angel, just missed lookin' at ya." [atsumu]

in that position, he loves the feeling of you holding his hands and the sensation of the nail polish brush against the top of his fingers so much, that he semi-falls asleep against his forearm as you wrap up

he just feels so much at peace <3

and when you’re done he is definitely giving ken, and that his job is volleyball

and tbh i hc his hair post timeskip isn’t so much piss yellow as ppl joke it was while he was at inarizaki

but that if he stuck through with keeping it blonde for so long he eventually managed to get it professionally done, and with some GODDAMN TONER 😭

i think it’s like a brassy sort of blonde

which looks perfect as an accent to the nails

like pop off regina george!!!!

something endearing about your loving atsumu is he never fails to get you the best seats in the arena whenever you come watch the msby jackals play.

from front row, you can see everything, and in so much detail—the action, the sweat, the tears that goes into each and every matchup the team faces. truly, the experience was leagues above settling for a closer look on any big screen or arena jumbotron. everything was just so much clearer!

but most importantly, you can see your boyfriend. very clearly.

so clearly, in fact, that after a particular great serve to bokuto for a spike that earned the jackals yet another point, you have the luxury of soaking in all the glowing details of atsumu in his element.

the way he clutches his strong fists and yells with joy at the small win, a bit of pink peeking out from the insides of his palms.

how his hands clap and grasp at the hands of his teammates in quick celebratory high-fives that leave streaky blurs of pink trailing behind his excited movements.

when his hand quickly drags over his smiling and glistening face, before carding through his hair—small pink detailings disappearing and reappearing amidst the blonde strands that rest on the top of his head.

by the time all the players on the court are settled back into their places for when the moment the ball will be up in the air once again—anticipation pulsing on both sides of the net—you can even catch as atsumu quickly glances at his nails with a small, blink-and-you’d-miss-it smile.

thankfully, your top-tier seat allows you to catch it. and although he’s smiling at his hands, you know that it’s for your work and by extension, it’s all love for you in that split second before your boyfriend has to lock in again.

when the next ball is served, you find yourself almost falling out of your chair from how far you’re leaning forward to take in as much of your great view as possible.

︴bokuto kōtarō ․﹒∗*○․﹒✧∘° 

MISMATCH IS A MUST

you say the few designs you want to try out and ask him which one you can try on him and he just goes: ALL OF THEM!

(he knows it’ll take longer to do with all the different elements, but that just means he gets to stare at you for longer as you work)

"are you sure? i mean, do you have a color you want in particular? i can tweak them so they all have the same palette." [you]

"nope! cover me with whatever your beautiful mind is envisioning!" [bokuto] (he's jutting his fingers out in front of you and wiggling them around with the biggest grin on his face)

these nails also just fits him as a person because he’s super all over the place and spontaneous so it works it JUST WORKS OK

plus his hair’s literally greyish whitish so it’s like a perfect neutral and blank canvas to accent the color palette

it's one thing having him sit still for an extended amount of time, but having you this close? right in front of him?

how is he not supposed to give your lips a quick kiss now and then

BUT!!! he always goes to double check he didn't mess up the nails every time he pulls back

"kō, the nails are fine! you didn't even move your hands, you're just moving your head to kiss me, silly." [you]

"just making sure, babe! i know this stuff takes a lot of work. plus, i can't really think of what else is happening when i'm kissing you, really." [bokuto] (already going in for another kiss)

you can see in the corner of your eye as you work on your designs that bokuto's nose scrunches up now and then

it's because he's not used to the smell of the nail products you're using

upon completing the whole nail set, he concludes it’s legitimately one of THE COOLEST THINGS anyone’s ever fucking done for him

doesn’t stop staring at his hands in a little bit of awe even after you’re done and chilling on the living room couch, completely oblivious to what's going on on the tv in front of you two

the crowd is going absolutely ballistic. the jackals are in the lead. and your boyfriend, the bokuto kōtarō is up and about to serve.

you watch the arena's big teleprompter with the rest of the spectators as the cameras pan to bokuto.

he has that look on his face–confident and happy playing the sport that runs through his veins. his hand crashes down onto the ball once. wham!

twice. blam!

when the ball comes back up, he grips it between his hands. it's evident even through the screen how his arms tense and pulse. it's like he's revving up.

as everyone hangs off the edge of their seats and keep their eyes glued in anticipation to the broadcasting of bokuto holding that unmistakable combo of blue and yellow–it's impossible to ignore how the ends of his hands glint and reflect the bright overhead lights.

colors of all kinds twitch in excitement against the leather and the star player quickly glances down at the ball, sure, but most definitely also at the intricate art you so graciously blessed his nails with. bokuto's lips crack a smile.

then he's tossing the volleyball up. a loud and powerful smack reverberates throughout the arena. in the blink of an eye the ball whizzes past two of the opposite team's players and the crowd explodes once again as the ball is now rolling on the outskirts of the court across the net.

your boyfriend's chest swells with pride, and his carefully manicured finger darts to point over you in the stands. you cheer even louder for him as he beams a tooth-filled smile your way.

💬 kuroppiii  ─ “ oh and i forgot to point out that most of these designs are short and with minimal charms so they don't get in the way of a volleyball player ' s , well ... volleyball playing ! short nail - ers rise up ! ”

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.”

I just die-

Matching outfits with the Haikyuu boys

pairing : Tendou, Bokuto, Akaashi, Kita, Tsukishima & Tanaka

Tendou Satori :

Bokuto Kotaro :

Akaashi Keiji :

Kita Shinsuke :

Tsukishima Kei :

Tanaka Ryunosuke :

reblogs are appreciated :)

A small Bokuto idea~ (first post!!)

You and Bokuto dated in Highschool, but but but, you two broke up bc of his insane vball schedule and how he focuses more on it then spending time with you

Believe it or not, there has be at-least one time that Akaashi has called you ever since you two broke up bc he, Bokuto was having one of his moments again🧍🏻‍♀️

Moving on, so like you went to abroad to finish studying, you still kept contact with the other Fukorodani members

BUT THENNN! You went back to Japan without announcing, you thought you’d stop by at your parents BUTTTT you decide to go to a shop or grocery or smth to cook for them

While you were on your way, you suddenly bumped into a tall, buff, man, you apologized quickly but quickly backing away as you find it was your ex-boyfriend (BTW THIS TIME BOKUTO IS WITH MSBY)

Then you two catch up with Bokuto clinging onto you subconsciously, then he accompanies you to the shop getting everything you need, then he also tagged along to your parents

Then BOOM, issue a lot of stuff happened BAAM BAAM BAAM you get back together, someone spots you two on your date, posted it to that goddamn bird app, made a minor scandal and then like he has to announce to his fans that he’s dating you lol

That’s all!!!!