hii! hcs/drabble/fic of bokuto coming home to you wearing his jersey? 🥺😭
A/N: IM ALIVEEEE AHHAAHA HOW R U GUYS !!!! i still have so much to do but i finally squeezed this fic into my time to finish it 😌✨ BTW my heart is shouting bec of this request it’s so freaking adorable and this kind of theme/storyline is my favorite one 🥺💕 i hope you like this, anon! + i added some details from ur request too so i hope you don’t mind the indulgence 🤭 xoxo
the normal life | bokuto kōtarō
pairing: husband!bokuto kōtarō x f!reader
genre: fluff fluff fluff x1000000
words (#): 1.8k+
synopsis: a day in the life of once a normal ace bokuto kōtarō. 🏐💍🍼
“I’m home!” Bokuto’s voice echoed throughout the house as he opened the door.
He usually spends his weekends resting up at home, but the nearing tournament didn’t allow him to do so today.
After setting his keys on the counter and removing his shoes, Bokuto stopped at his tracks when you're nowhere to be seen.
You normally greet him with tons of kisses accompanied by the warmest of hugs at the door.
It became a tradition now actually, and it’s one of Bokuto and your’ favorite little things, especially when he mentioned early in the relationship that winning or losing a game didn’t matter to him once he gets home to you.
Bokuto slightly tilted his head to listen carefully for your reply that never came.
“Honey?” he called out once again, now feeling a slight tinge of worry tug on his chest.
However, realizing that this scenario, wherein you hide somewhere in the house then take him by surprise, has happened one too many times before.
Worry quickly replaced by playfulness, Bokuto exhaled, “Are you hiding from me again?”
He instantly dropped his duffle bag and searched the house for you.
To his dismay, he proceeded to the rooms upstairs when you’re not in the living room behind the couch, under the dining table, nor in one of the huge kitchen cabinets.
Bokuto was about to enter your shared bedroom when his eyes caught on the light coming from the slightly opened door of the next room.
Fueled by his curiosity, he checked the said bedroom instead of your own.
He then pushed the white wooden door open to find out what’s happening on the other side, “Love, are you here?”
The first thing Bokuto noticed is the striking number 4 with a small underline plastered on your back.
He lifted his eyes to trace the familiar black, yellow, and white threads hanging on your frame, which ends in the middle of your thighs looking more like a dress than a jersey.
The nostalgia looking at the shirt he proudly wore as Fukurōdani’s captain hit him like a huge wave.
Glimpses of the past promptly flashed in his mind, including his fondest memories of the high school volleyball club that paved the way for his career and ultimately shaped the man who he is now.
Don’t get him wrong, he’s still as carefree and as playful as before. But time and experience instilled maturity in the simpleton ace.
Admiring the view of you in his high school jersey too much, he went against disrupting you and leaned on the doorframe instead, with amused golden eyes following your every oblivious move.
Bokuto internally chuckled when he wondered how long it would take before you notice his presence.
As you picked your phone up from the nearby table to change the song playing on your earphones, you heard a loud cough behind you that almost made you drop your phone.
You turned around surprised to see Bokuto’s athletic arms crossed in front of his broad chest clad in his typical black spandex and nylon, and his gray eyebrows were lifted along with a sly smirk on his face.
“Jesus, Bo, never do that to a pregnant woman!” you exclaimed while you pat your thumping chest.
You remove the plugged earphones to give your full attention to the sweaty but handsome man you call your husband.
“Sorry, love. Just missed you.” Bokuto laughed and moved towards you.
“How’s my baby today?” he asked while placing a soft kiss on your temple and engulfing you into a hug from behind. He pulled your body back to rest on his gently but firmly, careful not to squeeze your growing stomach too tight.
“Feisty, as usual.” you sighed as you rested your weight on Bokuto, the back of your head on his shoulder, “Been kicking all day, Tarō. I swear your child acts like he has his own court inside.”
Bokuto boomed with laughter as he expected nothing less than his own son inheriting his restless and energetic behavior.
He moved towards your front and kneeled on the carpeted floor to be eye level with your protruding belly that has been growing each day for the past 5 months.
Bokuto caressed your stomach through the jersey you're wearing and he whispered as if it’s a private conversation between the two of them, ”My little ace, I know you're excited to play with me but you gotta give your momma a break. We don’t want her mad now, do we?”
Bokuto let out a muffled laugh as he gave tiny pecks all-around your bump and heard you mutter “damn right.”.
“But my love,” Bokuto sweetly whined as he got up back on his feet and cradled your face, ”I was asking about how you are, my baby.” which only made you snort in response.
Bokuto pouted, “What? It’s true! This tiny little baby may be joining us soon but you are, first and foremost, my baby.” he explained.
Bokuto never once failed to come up with a new pick-up line for you. And despite the obvious cliché, it’s proven itself successful as you're now on your seventh year together.
And though Bokuto does not show it much since he loves his career, he absolutely hates it when it prohibits him from spending time with you especially now you're expecting.
Suddenly, Bokuto slowly dragged you with him to the soft and huge rocking chair he bought, which is now nestled in the corner of the room to please your aesthetic.
“So, whatcha up to today, love? I missed you,” he asked with genuine concern and interest.
Watching you turn into a mother stunned Bokuto than no one else could. He thought you couldn't possibly get any more beautiful as he awaited you at the other end of the aisle during your wedding day.
Alas, Bokuto proved himself wrong when he sees you carrying his child. He could not even begin to fathom the unparalleled beauty and the indescribable admiration he has for you.
Motherhood has changed you, and so had Bokuto.
It made him realize how normal he truly is – and that’s okay. Because he believes it entails that his number one job today is to take care of you and prioritize your needs whatever they may be.
3 AM ice cream runs? Afternoon cuddles? Emotional support? Your husband’s got it.
“I missed you too, Bo.” you sat on his lap and nestled deeper into his neck, “This house feels lonely without you.”
And it’s true. Whenever Bokuto’s not around, there’s always a quiet void he leaves behind.
“You know if I could bring you anywhere with me, I would right?” Bokuto guiltily sighed and rested his chin on the top of your head.
“And the team misses you too; they can’t wait to meet this little boy!” he adds.
“They said they preferred you over me.” Bokuto lightly grumbled as he recalled his teammates’ jests.
You chuckled at the thought of the Black Jackals bullying Bokuto.
“Well, you tell them they play nice or they’ll never see me again or this one!” you joked as you pat your belly. “But I got so bored today, love!” you started to complain.
“I hated sitting around so I just cleaned and fixed this nursery while I’m not a wobbling ugly whale yet.”
Bokuto nodded, finally having the explanation on the shelves now stocked with books, the rearranged stuffed toys, and cabinets filled with newly-folded baby clothes.
You closed your eyes as you finally felt the anticipated soreness creeping in your ankles and your lower back.
“Hey, you gotta take it easy, remember?” Bokuto poked your cheek using his nose and pouted at the thought of you overworking.
As the one who always witnesses your daily bolting out of the bed and rushing to the bathroom during the morning, Bokuto softly asked since he was out of the house the first second of sunlight for the day, “Morning sickness today?”
“As usual.” you sighed as you recall the disgusting taste on your mouth and the slight sadness Bokuto’s familiar comforting hands weren’t on your back.
“Back pain?” Bokuto inquired some more, really eager to get to know how your day was.
“I think it’s borderline normal today.”
“Starting to, actually.”
“Do you get morning sickness but … not in the morning? Midday sickness?” Bokuto innocently asked obviously having zero knowledge on these things.
“Tarō!” you loudly laughed as you turned around to look at his innocent face that’s scrunched up due to his thinking process.
Bokuto confusingly looked up at your beaming face, “What are you smiling for? Are you making fun of me again?”
You chuckled and brushed his usually spiky hair up that’s starting to droop down because of sweat, “Of course not, I just love how much you talk about I’m your “first” baby yet we both know who’s the real baby here.”
Bokuto’s shoulders visibly dropped and he pouted yet again while turning his head away from you in faux bitterness.
This only made you throw your head back, unable to hold back laughter from the buffed man acting adorably childish in front of you.
“Kidding, kidding.” you sweetly and subtly asked for his forgiveness while giving him short pecks all around his face and wrapping your arms around his neck. “But I think my not-a-baby husband needs to take shower, doesn't he?”
Bokuto took it as his cue to lightly shove his hair onto your face while laughing as you shriek at his mischievousness.
“Bo!” you groaned and giggled at the same time, “Shower! Now!”
Bokuto threw his hands up and accepted defeat, “Okay, okay, message received!”
You stood up from his lap and put your hands on your waist as you waited for Bokuto to stand up. However, he merely held you by your waist and lovingly looked up, “Join me?”
You rolled your eyes and gave in to his puppy eyes, “Only if you promise to massage my feet.”
Bokuto grinned and abruptly stood up, “Deal! You don’t even need to ask, love. I’ll fix the bath and I’ll call you when it’s good?” he excitedly suggested. God knows how much he needed the intimacy and close proximity after spending so much time apart today.
You nodded and smiled while you gave him a kiss that said how grateful you are for having the most perfect partner to go through all this.
As you clean up the mess at the nursery before leaving, “Oh, and, sweetheart?” Bokuto called and turned around by the doorway, “You may be a wobbling whale but you’d be the most beautiful one ever.”
This is Bokuto Koutarou’s life now. Yes, he’s still a volleyball player but on top of that, he’s a married man and a father. It’s far from the big plans and dreams he initially made during high school. It’s different but better.
A normal ace living his normal life, and he wouldn’t have it any other way.
Billy Joel: Greatest Hits - Volume I & Volume II (1985)
In my teens, a cassette of this greatest hits LP often dominated the family car’s tape deck on long road trips (it was something everyone could agree on, most of the time) and, let me tell you, I could do a perfect Billy Joel impersonation before my voice broke.
And then, all of a sudden, I couldn’t hit the high notes anymore …
For this, and other reasons (like spending my childhood in the New York area, where Billy was king), Joel’s multi-platinum career roundup always brings back a heap of nostalgic memories from my distant youth, no matter the era of his steady rise to fame …
From the struggling singer/songwriter of “Piano Man” and bi-coastal refugee of “Say Goodbye to Hollywood” and “New York State of Mind,” to the confident crossover all-rounder of “Movin’ Out (Anthony’s Song),” “Only the Good Die Young,” “Just the Way You Are” and “My Life.”
From the angry neurotic of “Big Shot,” “You May Be Right, “It’s Still Rock and Roll to Me” and “Pressure,” to the mature storyteller of “Goodnight Saigon” and “Allentown” -- even the mainstream millionaire of “Uptown Girl,” “The Longest Time” and “The Night Is Still Young.”
Sometimes it just takes a gluttonous display of music such as this one to reinforce the depth and breadth of an artist’s accomplishments, and Billy Joel’s streak across the late ‘70s and early ‘80s was second to none.
Alas, as with many best of collections, this one closed an invisible door on Billy Joel’s career for me, because I not only disliked, but outright hated, virtually every song he recorded thereafter -- everything recorded after my voice broke, I suppose.
More Billy Joel: Streetlife Serenade, Turnstiles, The Stranger, 52nd Street, Glass Houses, Songs in the Attic, The Nylon Curtain.