#｡･:*:･ﾟ★ bokutoverse

[bleubrri]

grocery shoppin’ baby-time fluff with bo \^o^/

before you even turn onto the aisle, you can hear your daughter squealing with laughter. bokuto is crouched in front of the cart, meticulously balancing an absurd amount of blueberry yogurt pots in his arms which she apparently finds hilarious. her heels kick back against the metal below her seat and the whole cart jolts from her excitement.

you stroll up, a poorly subdued smile etched onto your lips as your boyfriend struggles to clear the last few from the shelf.

“you realise we’re not buying all that, right?”

kotarous eyes dart up to where you’re leaning against the cart, smoothing your fingers over your baby’s hair. he pouts, yogurt tucked under his chin as he stands to face you, “it’s her favourite.”

you chuckle, reaching for one of the packs cradled in his arms. “last week her favourite was peach-mango. and the week before, she would rather throw yogurt in your face than eat it.”

bokuto counters your argument, “okay that was once, and i’ve got a feeling blueberry is the new wave. trust me on this, babe.” he grins at his little girl, babbling and waving her fists in agreement. you’re unconvinced.

you smirk, remembering empty yogurt pots littering his desk and berry flavoured kisses when he’d pick you up in the mornings. “oh yeah, whys that?”

bo puffs out his chest, strides over to your place beside the cart and confidently unloads his haul with the rest of the groceries. (which—now that you’re looking— seem to have been given a similar treatment, if the months supply of cereal boxes and apocalypse-prep level of crackers are anything to go by).

“because,” he drawls, “it’s in her blood! right, muffin?” he blinks expectantly at your daughter, who kicks her heels even more fiercely and giggles up at her daddy.

bokuto beams, scooping your little bundle of sunshine into his arms, turning to you with her perched on his hip and a smug smile on his face. “see?”

you roll your eyes playfully, reaching out to tickle the rounded tummy underneath her dungarees, “okay traitor, majority rules.” and dropping the pack that you’d swiped into the cart.

you watch with a droopy gaze as he spins her around in triumph, bubbly laughter filling the aisle and your heart squeezing in your chest. oh, you love them so much. you wonder if she’ll ever comprehend it, if he could ever understand all that he’s given you. you think you could burst into tears right here, feel your heart melt under your ribs and pool out at your fingertips right in the dairy aisle, watching bokuto babble nonsense at your baby like it’s the most important thing in the world.

he nods solemnly, leaning in to whisper, “tell mama we got the cookies she likes.”

you laugh, reaching out at the grabby hands made in your direction. “let’s get out of here before you two bankrupt us.”

~

“how could you do this to me?” bokuto whines, chin against the table and shoulders slumped in defeat.

you fight the smile that wants to emerge as you spoon the last of the yogurt into your daughters mouth. the dinner table has a pile of unopened yogurt packs in the corner, and a much larger trail of empty pots surrounding where bokuto slumps. he looks expectantly at the little girl perched in her high chair with strawberry-banana residue smeared onto her cheeks. she claps her hands and gurgles.

you make a show of wiping her down and chattering to her, “wasn’t that yummy! shall we try a new one tomorrow, hm?”

kotarou drops his forehead to the table with a resounding thud, muttering to himself, “i think i’m gonna throw up..”

even when she gets a little older and will eat most flavours without much fuss, there’s the odd pot of blueberry that remains untouched until after her dinner, when she’ll proudly deposit it in front of bokutos place and state that “daddy can eat it!”

he doesn’t have the heart to refuse her. he accepts it with vigour, “oh you treasure! thank you for sharing, baby.” and spoons down every mouthful as she watches him with glittering eyes that match his own. it’ll never fail to make you laugh when she totters off and his face drops into a groan, pushing the infernal blue pot as far away as possible.