Collab Event - Tumblr Posts

★~*･ﾟFade’s Collab Event Masterlist

This is the masterlist for the collab of wonderful writers. The post is here. But this is where you will everything posted.

*warnings are displayed*

-`｡ﾟ˘: ﾟ⋆ ––✷☽ ᱬ ☽✷––⋆ ﾟ: ˘ ﾟ｡.`-

Fantasy Tropes

Royalty Au

*unclaimed*

Fantasy Bounty hunter au

*unclaimed*

Space Bounty hunter au

*unclaimed*

Pirate Au

*unclaimed*

Masquerade @hopelesswritergall with Aemond Targaryen

WARNINGS: *unknown*

Romantic

Enemies to lovers @artyandink for

Character: Dean Winchester

WARNINGS: *unknown*

Fake dating by @targaryenluvs

Character: Clark Kent

WARNINGS: Fake Dating Trope, Obsession, Jealousy, Dark themes, Cursing, Non-Consensual Kissing/Touching, Implied Sex, Baby Trapping

One Bed

*unclaimed*

Vacation Confession

*unclaimed*

Random

Murder mystery

*unclaimed*

Found family

*unclaimed*

Alien crashes into background

*unclaimed*

Friday the 13th

*unclaimed*

Hybrid/Creatures

Adopted Hybrid

*unclaimed*

Found hybrids

*unclaimed*

Mermaids by @serxinns

Characters: yandere class 1A

WARNINGS: *yandere is all so far*

Werewolfs

*unclaimed*

*anyone is allowed to join! Just message me*

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.