Bokuto X Y/n - Tumblr Posts
Fukurōdani Academy
Kōtarō Bokuto x Reader "Can’t Fight Biology” +18 MDNI!
Kōtarō Bokuto x Reader "Secret relationship"
It was the middle of the night when you hear lots of tapping noises while you are sleeping in your apartment.
It sounds like multiple taps all at once, almost like little pebbles hitting your glass window.
Groaning, you turn to the other side in your bed, away from the noise that keeps coming from your window.
All of sudden, the noises stopped and you sighed in relief, happy to go back to sleep.
But then, when you were mere seconds away to falling into your dream of a zombie apocalypse, the noise of something hitting your window came back, a lot louder this time.
Apparently, whatever flew against your window broke the glass and now a big rock of the size of a rat lays on your floor.
When the sound of broken glass finally wakes you up with a startled gasp, you run to see what could have caused this.
A stalker? A murderer? A kidnapper? A shooter?
As soon as you look outside, you see a tall figure standing on the ground, all dressed in black.
You’re about to run to grab your phone from its charging station to call the cops, but when the big figure pushed down the hoodie from his head, you see spiky salt-and-pepper colored hair, with a big smile and golden, illuminating eyes.
Your heart does a few exciting jumps, easily being able recognize that hair from miles away.
But then you remember that the cute asshole just busted your window.
Opening it, you see Bokuto coming closer to you, if he had a tail, he‘d be wagging it wildly.
"Bo! You busted my window!" You hissed at him.
"I am sorry, love! But you weren’t answering your phone or my window call so I had to use something bigger! I just missed you so much." He looks sheepishly back at you, as he kicks one of his shoes into the dirt.
You sigh, his cuteness never fails to make you swoon for him.
You don’t get to see your boyfriend often due to his busy job, recently promoted to a wakagashira, the first lieutenant of Shūgo Meian, family boss of the Black Jackals of Tokyo.
"Can I come in and see you? I haven’t seen you in weeks! Boss had me running his errands forever." He pouts and gets even closer to the window. The only thing that separates you from him, is being on the second floor.
Now, Bokuto could be a normal person and just use the front door like a normal person, but Bokuto is not a normal person.
No.
That 6' 2.9" pure muscle of a man takes a few steps back and you know what that means.
Bokuto starts running towards your window and jumps to climb up the pipes on the side of your apartment.
The first time he did that, you screamed in fear, terrified he would fall and die.
With the many times he has done that, it’s a piece of cake for Bokuto now.
You see his tattooed hands on your window sill, pushing himself up with a small grunt, yet it looks like he didn’t break a sweat.
When he slides over your window frame, and stands up to his full height, you almost tear up in happiness.
Like magnets, the two of you almost run into each other, engulfing yourselves in a tight hug.
Bokuto is nuzzling his face into your neck, inhaling your familiar strawberry shampoo, while his strong arms wrap around your waist.
Standing up on your toes, you have your arms wrapped his neck, almost tearing up because you missed your muscular teddy bear so much.
Even if he occasionally has to kill people, easily snap someone‘s neck with his bare hands, he still has the softest heart around you.
Like sending you flowers almost every day, hiring someone to deliver food to you whenever you’re hungry or sending you romantic poems, pouring his whole heart into words of affirmation if he can’t be with you physically.
When he takes a small step back, he still has you in his arms, and he takes a good look over you, making sure you‘re okay.
"Kō? Everything okay?" You quietly ask your lover with a worried look on your face because it looks like he is close to tearing up.
"I just missed you so, my precious sweetheart. I am sorry I was gone for so long, you’re always in my thoughts every day and when you didn’t answer your phone…. I-I was so scared that something happened to you." Almost shaking, he responds while caressing your face.
You see the two owls on his neck, one great horned owl, representing him and one collared owlet, representing you.
He got that tattoo done on your first anniversary together, you sat with him while he didn’t flinch a single time, he just kept smiling at you while caressing your hand with his own.
That may have been a stupid decision on his part, because everyone knows you shouldn’t get a couple tattoo of your partner but you know it and Bokuto knows it.
You are soulmates, even if your worlds are completely different from another.
A/N: I know this is almost the same as Oikawa’s shower Drabble but originally I wanted to post this first. But I wanted to write for both Kō and Tōru. </3
Warnings: mentions of sexual content, making out, angstyish?
It's a typical weekday of training for the MSBY Jackals and the players are exhausted. Thankfully it’s now the weekend as well, which they finally have off after lots of intense practices on the last couple of weekends.
Everyone already left, almost racing out to the locker rooms as soon as Coach Foster called it a night.
Two players remained to stay behind, namely Hinata and Bokuto.
Along with Hinata and Bokuto, their beautiful manager (Y/N) stayed behind as well, helping them set and throwing balls for them to spike.
When the two hyper energetic rascals run out of energy, they call it for a night and start collecting the stray volleyballs off the side.
When Bokuto comes close by you, he quickly looks at Hinata before whispering something in your ear.
"You? Me? Shower after this?" His excited golden eyes watch you with a big gleam and you blush at his offer.
"Bo, not when Hinata is here. How about this weekend we do that since you’re off?" You decline and continue to put the remaining balls into the cart while the Outside Hitter pouts at your answer.
You see his hair deflating a bit and he looks incredibly sad, almost like you rejected a marriage proposal of his.
Feeling bad about it, you give in.
"Alright, fine." He immediately straightens up again and almost looks like an excited Golden Retriever puppy.
"But! Only if you get Hinata out of here first! I don’t want to risk exposure of our relationship." You sigh.
"Alrighty babe, consider it done!" Bokuto grins and runs over to the orange-haired Opposite Hitter and starts talking to him.
"Hey Hinata! (Y/N) and I can finish up in here! Why don’t you head home and we’ll see each other tomorrow morning?"
"It’s no problem! Let me help you two." The orange-haired Wing Spiker smiles widely and Bokuto is a little ticked off, his horniness level extremely high since it’s been a while he was intimate with you.
"But all that’s left is cleaning up the locker room, don’t worry bro! I gotcha and since (Y/N) has a key to the gym anyway, we‘ll lock up. Go home and rest shorty-pie." Bokuto tries to persuade Hinata and in the end, he agrees.
"Alright. I will grab my stuff from the locker rooms and head out then. See you tomorrow morning. Bye (Y/N)!" Hinata calls out to you and you see the orange-haired Wing Spiker disappear.
As soon as he is gone, Bokuto looks at you with dark, hungry eyes and marches over towards you.
All of sudden, you feel two strong arms wrap around your waist and you’re easily hoisted over a shoulder and the next thing you see is Bokuto’s butt as you cling onto him.
Your cute scream when he picked you up, makes Bokuto snicker and he walks over to the locker room showers, since Hinata prefers to shower at his place.
"KŌTARŌ! WE ARE NOT DONE CLEANING UP! FOSTER WILL FIRE ME IF HE SEES THE STATE OF THE GYM LIKE THIS! PUT ME DOWN!" You wiggle and try to jump off of him, but Bokuto is too strong and he just tightens his grip on you, smacking your butt while you squeak in embarrassment by the action.
"I promise after we’re done, I will finish up while you wait for me babe." Bokuto promises and as soon as he opens the door to the lockers, he makes a beeline for the showers and sets you down.
"Stop doing that." You glower at him.
"Stop doing what?" He grins and starts taking off his practice shirt.
You can’t help but drool of the sight of his exposed torso and stomach, the defined abs still shining with a little bit of sweat of practice earlier.
As soon as he fiddles with the strings on his training shorts, he bites his lip eying you up and down with a hungry look on his face.
"Come on, babydoll. It’s been a while and I missed that sexy body of yours pressed up against me." The Outsider Hitter growls and steps towards you very slowly.
Well, how can you say no to that.
Giggling like cheeky teens in love, you and Bokuto move into the shower, the sound of the spraying water barely hiding the synchronized moans, heavy panting and sounds of skin hitting skin.
The steam of the hot shower is making you feel even hotter as Bokuto continues to snap his hips against yours, filling you up in the process.
About 30 minutes later, the two of you emerge from the shower, you with a face as red as tomato and the former Fukurōdani Captain with the biggest satisfied grin on his face. His black-and-white hair falling over his eyes.
Bokuto gets you and him a big towel, gently wrapping it around your delicate body.
Caressing your face with the biggest love sick eyes, he moves to kiss you when a third voice interrupts the action.
"WHAT THE F-??!!???!!" Hinata shrieks loudly.
Bokuto and you spring apart from each other, as if the two of you had been burned.
When you realize that you just revealed that you’re in a relationship with Bokuto, Hinata looks like he’s about to pass out any second.
"Hinata let us explain—" You frantically start apologizing for letting him see you in just a towel with one of his best friends and teammates but Bokuto looks just as pale as you.
"You … You were showering with Bokuto??? But— I-I thought you’re dating someone (Y/N)?? You always block Atsumu's flirting off, saying you’re taken! And Bokuto I-I thought you were going home!"
No one says anything, all three of you are lost for words.
"Well… I am dating someone as you can see… this just only took an unexpected turn…" You rub your hand against your still wet arm while Bokuto is still uncharacteristically quiet.
You slap your palm against his bulging biceps, in hopes to snap him out of it, to which he does.
"Uhh… it’s not what it looks like?" Bokuto grins nervously at his friend.
You scoff at his words and take over.
"Hinata, please promise us that you’re not telling anyone on team about this! Please." You’re giving him your puppy eyes and Hinata and also the rest of the Jackals are weak for your puppy dog eyes.
"But-I-I… urgh, fine but I am warning you (Y/N) I am terrible at keeping secrets." Hinata stutters but unwillingly accepts your request.
"I gotta go, I forgot my wallet in my locker." Hinata grabs his wallet from his locker and almost run of the changing room.
Bokuto and you exchange worried glances, hoping that Hinata won’t say anything.
The next day
Hinata feels dreadful.
He barely slept last night, he feels nauseous at the thought of keeping your relationship with Bokuto a secret and the stress is making him feel constipated.
Unfortunately, Atsumu has a keen eye and notices the short Wing Spiker acting very weird today. So he comes up to him during their short break and questions him.
"Shōyō? Ya good? Did ya practice too long yesterday?"
Hinata’s face resembles someone who is about to throw up and Atsumu is getting concerned about him.
Bokuto notices that Hinata is physically doing horrible, he is barely able to receive and the Opposite Hitter feels very guilty for making Hinata keeping his relationship with you a secret.
The orange-haired looks like he lost his sunshine, but he assured Atsumu that everything is fine but the Setter does not buy it.
Moving over to Bokuto, Atsumu asks him about Hinata’s behavior, to which the Outside Hitter replies that he has no idea.
Hinata is sent home due to his bad performance on the court and Bokuto can’t take it anymore. He needs to talk to you in private.
On the weekend, Bokuto’s fingers trace your naked shoulder up and down as you’re resting your face against his naked pectoral muscle, his heartbeat calming down slowly from making you scream his name minutes prior.
You notice him being unusually quiet and you start tracing little shapes on his stomach.
"Kō? What’s wrong?" You ask in a worried voice.
"I am very worried about Hinata. It looks like he is getting worse and worse every day keeping quiet what he saw between us. Baby? Why can’t we tell the team?" Bokuto glances down at you.
You sigh deeply and start to get up, Bokuto is getting concerned that he upset you.
"We talked about this so many times, Kō. I am technically not allowed to date a player from the team as a manager. It distracts you during games and I don’t want any threats from your fans." You tell him with a quiet voice, remembering that one of your best friends is dating the Middle Blocker Tatsuto Sokolov from the Schweiden Adlers and they are dealing with lots of hate comments on a daily basis. Yet, their relationship remains strong. You just wish you had their confidence.
Bokuto sighs and gets a little bit irritated because he wants to show the world that he loves you, yet your uncertainty is making him slowly lose his patience and question your love for him.
"But (Y/N) we've been hiding like almost six months now. Can’t you just get over it already? I feel like you’re keeping me in the shadows on purpose." Bokuto begins to get up as well, getting dressed as he watches you do the same.
"Are you serious Kōtarō? You know exactly why we’re not saying anything! I am sorry that I want to keep my dating life out of the spotlights for internet vultures!" You begin to tear up, the frustration is overwhelming.
"Well then, if you’re so worried, maybe we should end this then and you can go out with Sakusa instead since he seems to be allergic to PDA just as much as you!" Bokuto yells in anger and you had enough.
"Out!" You point to the entrance door with a glare and the irritated owl slams it on his way out.
MEET AND GREET DAY 3:
#12, Outside Hitter Kōtarō Bokuto of the MSBY Black Jackals

Energetic owl 25/7
So imagine how hyper he still is after a winning game
He’s a living bouncy ball, along with tangerine boy
When you came up to the table to get your jersey signed, you can almost feel his bright energy surrounding you, feeling like it’s pulling you into a hug
He smiles brightly at you, sweat clinging to his jersey, defining his well-built body
You’re trying not to stare but it’s highly obvious that you like the hyper horned owl
You get his autograph, an almost bone-crushing hug and one last beaming smile
You’re feeling a sort of rush of adrenaline mixed with something else as you go home, looking up the next home game of the MSBY Jackals, excited to see Bokuto play again and hopefully have another M&G
Even though you can see your bank account shrinking more and more, each time you feel so much excitement whenever you see Bokuto play on court
His beaming smile, his chest receives, his exciting expression whenever he scores and the way he celebrates with #13 and #21
You’re going to their last game before your bank account goes on strike so you make it count as you go to the M&G
Bokuto sees you coming up again and smiles at the sight of you
So you try your shot
"Hey, I have been to some of your games and I really love the way you're driven by your passion in volleyball and I really like you and I wanted to know if you'd be happy or willing to go out with me sometime?"
The whole table is silent and truth to be told, shocked that someone was asking Bokuto out
Bokuto never really thought much of dating until like his retirement but ever since you started coming to the MSBY Jackal games, Bokuto feels like he wants to show you what he can do, you can say in some sort of way he's trying to impress you
You're standing in front of him, sweating buckets in nervousness, when Bokuto gets up from his chair with a neutral expresion
You're already imagining the worst rejection ever when he stands a mere inches away from you
Looking into his golden eyes, his expression changes from neutral to bashful
"I'd love to."
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.

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.”
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.
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.
𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐈𝐑 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐖 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐌 | 𝘩𝘢𝘪𝘬𝘺𝘶𝘶 𝘣𝘰𝘺𝘴 𝘦𝘥𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯

↬ featuring: 𝘚𝘢𝘬𝘶𝘴𝘢 𝘒𝘪𝘺𝘰𝘰𝘮𝘪, 𝘖𝘪𝘬𝘢𝘸𝘢 𝘛𝘰𝘰𝘳𝘶, 𝘉𝘰𝘬𝘶𝘵𝘰 𝘒𝘰𝘶𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘰𝘶
↬ category: 𝘧𝘭𝘶𝘧𝘧
↬ tw/general warnings: 𝘕𝘖𝘛 𝘗𝘙𝘖𝘖𝘍𝘙𝘌𝘈𝘋, 𝘨𝘯!𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳, 𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘧𝘰𝘰𝘥 (𝘪𝘯 𝘣𝘰𝘬𝘶𝘵𝘰'𝘴), 𝘭𝘮𝘬 𝘪𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦'𝘴 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘐 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘢𝘥𝘥 <3
↬ word count: 1.6k 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘰𝘨𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳
↬ a/n: this is my first time doing something like this so I'm really sorry if this is bad ashdhjasdk. hope you enjoy though! <3
@eunoique

𝗦𝗔𝗞𝗨𝗦𝗔 𝗞𝗜𝗬𝗢𝗢𝗠𝗜
you were studying in sakusa's bedroom for the midterm exams coming up in a week.
he was currently explaining the calculus problem that laid in front of you. your eyes were scanning the paper in confusion.
"got it?" he turned his head towards you, expecting some sort of verbal response.
you simply nodded.
"good. now try doing the next one yourself."
he stood up and took a few steps towards his original seat, sat down and continued to do his own calculus questions.
you weren't going to do the question at all. considering you didn't understand a single thing. so why not figure out your problems by being artistic?
you glanced up at his figure across the table. his wavy black locks covering his face, his mechanical pencil scribbling away in his dominant hand, and the tendons and veins laced in his arm that slightly rose when he gripped the utensil firmer.
he was hot.
so you pushed the button at the top of your mechanical pencil and began to draw a basic sketch of his slumped and concentrated build.
once your drawing was almost completed, you added some further details to finish it off.
you raised the paper in front of you, let out a quiet sigh and made a soft smile. you were staring so intently at your sketch that you didn't realise he was gazing at you, his dark eyes piercing through the paper.
"you're done?"
you lowered the paper back on the table and grinned.
"yeah. you wanna see my amazing mathematician skills?"
he raised an eyebrow in suspicion, but complied.
sakusa grabbed the paper from you, hands slightly brushing against each other.
he wasn't so cautious of germs when he was around you. you were friends since childhood and you were one of the few people he trusted most. due to this reason, his softer personality would shine through.
once he saw what you spent the last few minutes on, roses immediately bled under his skin.
"w-what?" he said under his breath, eyes widening and lips slightly parted in shock.
you let out a small laugh.
"what? did I get it right?"
realising he kept staring at your art piece. he cleared his throat, trying to keep his composure to his usual stoic state.
"it looks good."
you smirked.
"that's it?"
"yes, that's all you deserve. since you didn't even study or complete the question at all." he scoffed.
you shrugged, "well- I guess I'll get to it then."
you carefully snatched the piece of paper back and picked up your eraser, ready to remove the drawing.
"-but don't remove it... keep it there."
and so you didn't.
once the midterms were over, your grade came back with an almost perfect score.
I guess those few minutes of artistic ability were worth it after all.
𝗢𝗜𝗞𝗔𝗪𝗔 𝗧𝗢𝗢𝗥𝗨
you were ready to head to your extracurricular activity.
being the manager for Aoba Johsai's volleyball team was no easy feat.
having to deal with oikawa's excessive amount of fangirls, makki and mattsun's constant sharing of memes and iwaizumi's struggle to keep things in order.
it was tiring.
but your creative mind kept your stress at bay, as creating art was your escape from your reality.
here you are sitting at the bench with the coaches. writing down the player's regimens and match notes.
looking at the time, you noticed that it was time for their usual half-way break. you nudged coach irihata's soldier, giving him a slight nod towards the players.
he knew what you meant and called for a break.
"everyone! have a break for the next ten minutes!"
the latter let out huge sighs, stretched their tense muscles and exhaustedly strolled towards the benches.
you grabbed the bottles and towels from its cases and placed them together. giving them a water bottle and towel each, with most of them nodding as a thank you.
oikawa came to you last with his usual flirtatious grin that his fangirls die for.
"oikawa-san!" "oikawa-senpai!" "wah~ he's so cool!"
he waved at them and threw a piece sign. making them squeal louder than ever before.
you rolled your eyes and gave him his towel and water bottle. he muttered a "thank you manager-chan~"
you ignored the little name and resumed writing your notes, making sure they were in tip-top shape.
once they seemed adequate to your eyes, you decided to draw with the remaining time left of the ten-minute break.
though you needed some inspiration, so you lifted your head and analysed the gym.
your eyes immediately caught oikawa's frame. his head was tilted back, hooded lids fluttering closed, droplets of sweat running down his forehead all the way to the veins on his pale neck, his long calloused fingers wrapped around the plastic cylinder, the soft hazel strands of hair soaked in his own perspiration and his Adam's apple bobbing up and down with each gulp.
you gulped yourself.
no wonder he had so many fans.
you wanted to capture this moment, so you quickly started drawing on the bottom right corner of his page of notes. you made sure that each detail could be seen and each stroke of lead was perfect.
you were so close to finishing until he approached you on the bench and sat himself down right next to you.
"yahoo~ may I see the notes you made on me please?"
you shivered from the close proximity and quickly held your notebook close to your chest.
"uhm- just a second."
at the speed of light you added the finishing touches to your drawing, checking that he couldn't see your page from his line of vision.
you took a double-take and asked.
"you sure you want to see your notes? it's not really done-"
"yup. I'd like to see them please, I don't mind if they're not done."
you accepted your doom, he was going to see your drawing whether you liked it or not- but at least it looked decent.
the notebook you were holding was passed to him and he started to read each word from the top to the bottom.
once he reached the dreaded corner, the corner of his mouth lifted up into a smirk. he gave you a side-glance.
you swiftly shifted your vision away from him. embarrassment taking over your features.
"soo... you drew me?"
"look. I was just bored and wanted to do something with the remaining time we had left of this break- and besides, you were the only person that caught my eye in terms of inspiration."
he leaned back on the wall with his hands behind his head and closed his eyes.
"I look pretty hot in that drawing, not gonna lie."
you face him for a second, then looked away.
"that's because you are hot..." you accidentally thought out loud.
he instantly opened one of his eyes to look at you.
after a few seconds, you processed what had just happened and buried your face in your hands.
"didn't know our manager thinks of me that way~" he teased you.
"oh shut up shittykawa." you imitated his best friend, Iwaizumi.
he removed his hands from behind his head and sat up straight.
"now Iwa-chan has got you calling me that? you guys are so mean..." he pouted adorably.
𝗕𝗢𝗞𝗨𝗧𝗢 𝗞𝗢𝗨𝗧𝗔𝗥𝗢𝗨
"hey hey hey!"
you were on your way to the art club for a sudden lunch meeting when bokuto ran up to you, swinging an arm around your shoulder. akaashi following close behind.
"oomph- oh hi bokuto and akaashi!"
"me and akaashi were wondering if you wanted to sit with us for lunch? you're pretty much our best friend now so?..." bokuto beamed.
your smile immediately fell into a frown.
"sorry you guys, I have to attend a meeting for my arts club. maybe tomorrow?"
bokuto's hair deflated and his expression turned gloomy.
"aww... but I wanted to hang out with you today!"
akaashi leaned towards you and whispered in your ear, "maybe skip the meeting. bokuto will be in a gloomy mood for the rest of the day, we don't want that to happen right?"
you complied and sighed.
"alright. I'll skip just this once. let's go and eat!"
you three arrived to the fukurodani's boys volleyball team's lunch spot. which was under one of biggest cherry blossom trees on campus.
the team greeted you and everyone began to eat after they thanked for the food.
and so you ate your bento consisting of rice, pork curry, pickled vegetables and seaweed.
once you were done. you picked up your sketchbook and began to draw, to make up the time you skipped being with the team than being at the art club meeting.
you were close to drawing a cherry blossom tree that was nearby, until you wanted to draw a person. since scenery and nature was your specialty, and drawing people wasn't your forte.
you soon decided to draw bokuto, as his personality was already hitting you with inspiration for your sketch.
seizing the pencil, you started to draw your idea down.
the lead created marks of his spiky bi-coloured hair, his blinding grin, his big and rough hands, his slightly tousled school uniform and the pink petal that laid on the tip of his finger.
unbeknownst to you, bokuto was behind you. watching your every move.
you smiled with satisfaction at your final product.
bokuto yelled from behind and pointed at your sketchbook, "WHOA! LOOK GUYS! AKAASHI LOOK! THEY DREW ME!"
you jolted from the volume and closed your book.
"bokuto-san! don't scare them like that!" akaashi told bokuto from his spot.
bokuto apologised, but then asked.
"may I see again? please?"
he's already seen your drawing, so there's nothing left to hide now.
you gave him your book and his reaction made him seem like he ascended into heaven.
he was literally glowing.
"you're so talented! no wonder the art club loves you!"
you looked down to your lap, fiddling with your fingers.
maybe you should draw him more?
if he allows you of course.