a/n: Just some random tweets that I wanted to post ‘cause they’re cute (also sorry for the BAD grammar I wrote this for fun so I didn’t proofread) ++ the Instagram one is just a try (the comment is from Bokuto)
aaaahhhh! i’m sorry i’m so late in posting this - i really got carried away with this one and have decided to release it in four parts because it’s way too long (my first multichapter hq fic say whaaat) and i have axed the middle part completely to be rewritten. written for the @heatwave2021 fic exchange where i am honored to have been matched with the lovely @vivianvampyric i hope this provides a much needed cool off from the blistering summer (even though it’s technically fall now >.<)☀️⛱️
prompt:enemies to lovers // meet ugly // ‘you’re competitive. and so is he.’
summary:the msby 4 book a surf trip to a tropical destination, only to stumble upon a forbidden slice of paradise on their first day. despite being met with a lot of resistance, bokuto is determined to get you to share your secret spot.
f!reader x bokuto koutarou, slow burn, eventual smut (not till last chapter), strong language, heavy localism, reader’s friend almost murders hinata, lots of cringey surf lingo (glossary at the end), reader tan lines are briefly mentioned, (wc: 4.1k/???)
18+ only
[ch. 1 - here] [ch. 2] [ch. 3] [ch. 4]
“I d-don’t think ya were s-s-supposed to turn d-d-down this road,” Atsumu says, voice rattling as he clings to the frame of the open-sided Jeep Wrangler rental bouncing down a narrow dirt road surrounded by 9-foot-tall sawgrass.
“This has gotta be a secret spot!” Bokuto says at the steering wheel with a focused grin. He’s quite enjoying the bumpy ride, soaking in the feeling of the unknown adventure that might be waiting at the end of this pothole-ridden path. He was the one who had convinced his teammates to form this trip, all of them taking up surfing as a hobby as something fun to keep them in shape and connected to the world outside of all the hours spent in gymnasiums. He had seen pictures of this place on social media and couldn’t get the blue waters and clean swell lines out of his head compared to the dark, cold, murky seas back home.
“I should have driven,” Sakusa groans from the back seat, face relaying the oncoming nausea if the road doesn’t smooth out soon. Despite his rattled head, he has a protective arm in front of Hinata, who looks like he’s about to go flying out of his seat.
“Ah! This must be it!” Bokuto exclaims as he whips a turn that almost tips the vehicle and makes his own parking spot in the clearing of cars and trucks. He’s the first to unclick his seatbelt and hop out of the Jeep to run up to the clearing that opens up to the gorgeous tropical view of the beach just a few steps below the ledge. It’s not the northern point break as described by the B&B host, but rather a lost piece of paradise.
“Yewww! Check it out! I’ve never seen so many babes in the water,” Atsumu hollers from behind him, standing up in the passenger seat to look over the vehicle frame.
Bokuto narrows his eyes to focus on the line-up, and sure enough, it’s a lot of women. Mostly women. All women? Damn, they really hit the jackpot with his rash decision to turn down the hidden path. The waves look clean, a gorgeous reef break with split peaks crumbling neatly as the set heads for the shore. He can’t wait to be out there, catching all the waves and showing off for the bikini babes lounging on their boards.
“Let’s go!” He cheers and runs back to the car to grab his board. He throws his sandals into the bed and untangles his leash, then dashes to leap off the small ledge, landing in the soft sand. He can faintly hear Sakusa berating him to put on sunscreen, but he figures he’ll be okay in his rash guard. He dashes towards the shoreline, sand hot like coals beneath his feet when he hears a voice yell behind him.
“Hey! You can’t paddle out here!”
He doesn’t even stop to turn around, simply waving a hand as he continues his beeline for the water.
“Don’t worry, miss! I can handle it!” He calls back. How sweet of the locals to care about his well-being, but it’s merely a waist-to-chest high day, well within his comfort zone.
Bokuto doesn’t stop his sprint as his toes hit the water, throwing himself on top of his board and gliding over the surface with the momentum. The water is warm yet refreshing as he starts to paddle, duck diving under the first plow of whitewash rolling towards him and popping up on the other side with a satisfied sigh. He shakes his hair and continues to work his way out, keeping an eye on the other surfers riding in. A young girl zooms past him, yelling something at him that he doesn’t quite catch.
“Oi! That lil’ girl just called me a dick!” Atsumu laments, not too far behind him.
Sure enough, another identical girl flies past them on the next wave, unmistakably calling out, “Dickheads!”
Bokuto frowns but nevertheless keeps crawling forward with his arms, only about two waves away from the outside. A woman on a longboard glides past him, making a point to look him in the eye with a cutting glare. He ignores the disdain but turns his head when he hears her berate his friends.
“Move along, Jake!"
"My name isn’t Jake!” Hinata’s voice comes growling over the sound of the crashing waves as he struggles to duck dive so he barely makes it over the lip without getting eaten. His frustration can be heard in the ungraceful slaps of his stroke as he speeds up to catch up with Bokuto and Atsumu.
“Something tells me we’re not welcome here,” Sakusa says out of nowhere next to the rest of the guys despite being last to paddle out. His cheeks and nose are lathered in white zinc, and somehow his curly hair is completely dry. “The girl on shore was insistent that we can’t surf here.”
“Just some localism. If we stay respectful-” Bokuto starts, but gets cut off by Atsumu.
“Holy- ASS ALERT!"
It’s a loud and tactless exclamation that even you can hear as you come carving down the wave from the right. Your eyes squint at the unfamiliar faces that are a little slack-jawed at the sight of you, most likely foreign to seeing a girl sporting a thong bikini in the wild, let alone ass out in a power squat to throw a clean cutback to ruin the curly-haired man’s dry-hair paddle-out with the spray of your board’s tail. They keep staring, unaffected by the extra water to the face as you pop off the wave and paddle over to them.
“What the fuck are you doing here?”
The guys flinch at the harsh interrogation, certainly not what any of them were expecting you to say. You might be attractive, but that mouth of yours sure is abrasive.
“Just here on vacation, trying to catch some waves and have fun,” Bokuto answers directly and the others nod in agreement. He understands that four new faces in a local spot could seem threatening, but he’s sure that it’s nothing that some good ol’ Koutarou-charm can’t fix.
“You should leave.”
There’s something chillingly calm about your voice that clashes with the warm turbulence of the ocean. No smile or frown, just an unrelenting stare on your fresh face as you grip the nose of your board to keep it from popping up between your legs.
“Thank you for the concern miss, but we can handle ourselves,” he speaks on behalf of everyone, offering a big grin that he hopes will settle the tension. He’s read that some places can have aggressive locals who dictate who gets priority in the lineups, but he knows that if he just stays patient-
“Let me rephrase: Leave.”
“Do you own the ocean?” Sakusa asks bluntly.
“Of course not, but you guys obviously aren’t from around here,” you say, narrowing your eyes just a bit.
“So we’re not welcome?” Hinata questions innocently enough.
You raise an amused brow at the redhead and turn your head around to call out to the group of about two dozen women behind you. “What do you say, ladies? Should we let Benny and the Jets here join our sesh?"
Your question is met with a chorus of boos, 'fuck off’s, and middle fingers being waved in the air. It’s enough to make the quad of boys wince at the cold unwelcome.
You turn your attention back to them and shrug.
"There you have it. We’ll even let you ride yourselves back in,” you offer with an infuriating fake smile.
Atsumu and Hinata seem content on leaving, ready to start paddling back in, but Sakusa sits still with his arms crossed, and Bokuto looks at you with a cheeky pout.
“Seems like there are plenty of peaks. I don’t see why we can’t just get along and share,” the silver-haired man points out. What are you gonna do anyway? It’s not like you can force them to leave. It’s almost as if you’re beckoning for him to keep pushing it.
“Hm, just wouldn’t want you to get eaten by a shark,“ you say, tilting your chin up and staring down at the guys.
“Sharks?”
Suddenly, Hinata lets out a frantic yelp right as his board goes shooting out the water and his body disappears beneath the surface. The other guys’ faces blanch, eyes darting to one another, ready to start sprint-paddling back to shore before they hear your laughter.
“My friend trains by running underwater carrying boulders and can hold her breath for over 4 minutes. Can little red do the same?” You giggle fearlessly. Sure enough, a riderless longboard floats past you from behind and the boys realize that it’s no coincidence that their smallest friend had gotten dragged under.
“Goddammit,” Omi grumbles, taking a deep breath before diving in after Hinata.
You can see the water rippling from a scrabble below and it doesn’t take long for the redhead to pop up, gasping for air and desperately seeking the safety of his board. Omi comes up shortly after with a well-deserved glare, while your friend surfaces with an iniquitous laugh like a spiteful selkie. The guys all exchange nervous glances, quickly realizing that you aren’t playing around despite the lively look on your face.
"I’m going back in. Hinata, come on,” Sakusa grumbles as he keeps his critical eyes on you until he paddles out of sight with a shaken Hinata at his heels.
“I’d follow him if I were you,” you say with an ominous smile, feigning innocence to the fact that your friend had nearly drowned someone.
“Hey, ladies,” Atsumu says warily with his hands up defensively. “Why can’t we just get along? Ya’know, the spirit of surfin’ n’ such?”
You blink at the two left, smile remaining as if you’re pleased with them staying despite the hassle of their presence. Bokuto studies the look on your face. It seems familiar to him, something he recognizes from all his years of staring down opponents on the other side of the net, and yet he can’t quite place what it is. It sparks his curiosity, luring him to stay put despite all the signs that tell him they should leave.
“Well, in the spirit of surfing, how about you take this next wave? Show us girls what you got,” you offer, tilting your head to the oncoming set. The tide is just right for the first wave to crest right at your position.
“Like right now?” The bleach-blond asks, quickly turning around to get himself in position, all too eager to bite your bait.
You turn around and nod at some girls behind you. The others give way to two of the smallest in the group, the same two girls who were calling them “dickheads” earlier, and no older than middle schoolers who start paddling for take-off. You whip your head back at the guys.
“Now! Don’t fall!”
“Easy enough!” Atsumu yells as he takes off and you cringe at him kicking his feet for a boost.
Bokuto stays behind and observes, wondering what you have up your sleeve even though he’s pretty sure the girls can’t catch up to his friend. However, though Atsumu is further ahead on the wave, the two girls, each half his size, easily close in on him from behind with demon-like speed on their neon boards.
“What the-? Little clone freaks what are y-!"
It’s hard to see what’s going on from behind the wave but soon enough, Atsumu’s board flies ghost over the lip while he goes full starfish bail in the air before landing in the churning white water. You laugh at the sight and turn to the last remaining man just a few feet away from you, who seems less amused at his friends’ fate. His salt and pepper hair lays slicked back against his head from the water, golden eyes studying you critically with his lips pulled into a pout. It’s a shame he’s being so stubborn, otherwise, he’s kind of cute.
“Those are my nieces. One of them will be world champion one day,” you brag with a haughty grin, watching as the one on the hot pink board airs out when the wave closes. “We’re not just some girls fucking around out here looking cute on our boards.”
You’re certainly not wrong from what he’s witnessed, though he can’t deny you don’t look far off from posters that he’s seen in windows of surf shops or even a torn magazine page adorning the lockers of some of his teammates.
"So what are you doing?”
“Not to say that we don’t have fun,” you say, “but every one of us is working hard to be better than the best.”
“Oh? And which one of you is the best?”
Your smile is almost predatory. He sees the stickers on the underside of your nose, brands he recognizes, and wonders if they’re not just for decoration. There’s a look in your eye that makes his blood simmer excitedly, and he suddenly realizes what it is. He’s well-versed in cocky attitudes, but rarely from girls, and even more rare from a girl facing a man. Undoubtedly though, he can hear and see the words seeping out of you in an aura: Underestimate me. I dare you.
“Scared of a little girl, vacation warrior?”
“No!” He blurts out, face feeling hot from the tropical sun reflecting off the water, or so he thinks. He feels a rush inside him, intrigued to see what you can bring to the table, almost wanting you to completely show him up, and yet also wanting to crush you down.
“Then follow me!” You bark, turning yourself to paddle for the oncoming wave.
You hear him grunt, making you smirk in satisfaction when you realize you have him hooked into your game. It’s an easy win for you, no matter how athletic he may be - the way his rash guard clings to his large, defined muscles certainly hasn’t gone un-missed by your judging eyes.
The wave drags you into its pull, and you let him stand up before you, noticing his goofy-footed stance and that he seems pretty comfortable riding backside. He lets out an excited “yewww!” at the rush. It makes you smile but doesn’t soften your spirit when you drop in behind him. Your eyes are trained on the spot you want to be, not breaking in concentration as you glide past him without so much as a pump.
Bokuto feels good on the wave- something about the push of the water and harmonizing with the mysterious laws of nature rather than fighting against them. There’s a certain satisfaction in finding just the right balance to enjoy the ride, not unlike being thrown the perfect toss to spike the ball exactly where you want. But he sees you out of the corner of his eye as you begin to sweep around him. It almost seems to happen in slow motion. He’s reminded of the times he’s felt so sure about a point only for a hand or a foot to come seemingly out of nowhere, and the mix of awe and anger.
Still, he can’t not turn his attention. He remembers the lessons and pointers he’s gotten since he started this hobby. He knows he should only look in the direction he’s going, but as you pull in front of him, he sees your hand slide down your lower back until your thumb hooks under the top seam of your bottoms. And though there’s hardly any fabric to begin with, he’s still held captive when you flash him your tan lines made only more tempting by the water dripping down your body.
A dirty play by you, but he knows it’s silly to get worked up and distracted by such a thing. He knows he’s losing his balance. He knows he’s about to fall and get washed away by the wave, but not without watching you execute a perfect bottom turn that cuts off his trajectory and blends into a sharp snap, and sprays the water like a full-body halo around you. It’s as if he wasn’t even on the wave to begin with.
His shoulder hits the water, eyes never leaving your carving figure as he gets swallowed by the wave. He feels strange as he gets dunked beneath the surface, left ankle getting tugged by his leash as his board buoys from above. The sunlight breaks through the clear water, and though his vision is a little blurred, he finds it quite peaceful despite the embarrassing defeat. However, his back bumps against the reef and he quickly kicks his way back up.
By the time he makes it back to shore, you’re already regrouped with the other girls, letting them have their turns. He bites the inside of his cheek, feeling salty in more ways than one. He knows he shouldn’t want to go back out, but he finds himself fighting the urge to paddle right back to you. He wants to keep surfing and prove to you that he can keep up, and prove something else to you that he can’t quite put his finger on. But he sees the rest of the guys standing around on the beach next to a girl set up with some camera equipment.
“Ha! You got beat by that girl!” Atsumu jabs as Bokuto walks up to them.
“Says the guy who got pushed around by two pre-teens,” Sakusa mutters.
“I tried to warn you all that you can’t surf here,” the girl with the camera sighs from her spot on the sheet she has set up to keep off the sand.
“And what gives you all the right?“ Bokuto asks, squinting an eye.
"Nothing. Absolutely nobody. That’s why we’re here,” she replies, though it doesn’t give them much of an answer. “You all should leave. There’s a spot north of here that should be a little more welcoming."
The guys all look at each other and agree, even if there is a little part in each of them that wants to put their foot down. But their vacation time is limited, and they’d like to catch some waves rather than fight for them. Defeated, for now, they turn back to the shoddy parking area.
"Aw man, somebody waxed our ride!” Hinata exclaims as he climbs over the ledge and makes his way to the jeep. Sure enough, the matte streaks of Sticky Bumps surf wax stand out against the shiny yellow car paint. There isn’t much canvas, but there are crude penises and the phrase “locals only” etched anywhere the wax would stick.
So much for paradise.
-
The day wasn’t a total loss. Fortunately, they had some luck at the spot they had originally set out to check out, and after exhausting themselves there, they headed back to the B&B with the sun setting behind them. It’s a bright blue two-story building surrounded by lush, colorful plants with lots of open outdoor space. The owner is a Japanese ex-pat, who Bokuto had found through a travel agent. He had introduced himself as “Musty Boot” to the guys, all of whom didn’t want to question if that’s his actual name or not.
“Did you guys score?” The older man greets them when he sees the guys unloading their boards and using the hose to wash the sand off their feet.
“Yeah! We ended up at the beach with the rocky point break like you told us. It was a lot of fun,“ Bokuto says with a big grin that stretches his cheeks which are already a little bit pink from sunburn. All of the boys look a little bit tanner just after one day in the sun, even Sakusa who was diligent with the SPF.
"You guys sure are energetic. I thought for sure you’d be jet-lagged,” the host says as he turns to open the door. “There’s a lot of other good spots in the area. I’ll show you some more on the map when you get inside."
A large dog with shaggy grey and white fur forces his way out as soon as the door gives enough space for him to wiggle through, greeting each of the guys with a wet nose to the thigh and collecting pats on the head.
"Oi! Get back in Kuzi,” Musty Boot orders and the canine goes waddling back through the door, though not without checking behind to make sure the visitors are following him.
“We went the way you said but found an even better spot on our way there. There were some nasty girls who gave us a hard time though. They tried to drown Hinata,” Bokuto tells him as he steps inside. It’s only slightly cooler, the Aircon working hard to relieve the space of the tropical heat, but at least the tile feels nice on their tender soles.
"Is that all? I should have warned you about that. That’s ‘The Siren’s Den,’ run up with y/n and her gang of wahines. Local girls-only club - they’re notorious around here. They’re like a pod of killer whales."
Bokuto laughs at the comparison for the accuracy, and wonders if the older man is referring to you. Even though it wasn’t established, something told him that you were the leader.
“Okay, but who do they think they are claimin’ a spot like that for themselves? Pretty selfish n’ rude if ya ask me,” Atsumu grunts while petting the dog to counter the bitter feelings stewing in his head.
"Trust me, you all got off lucky. See this scar?” Their host points out the indent above his right eyebrow. “I knew better, but I thought I’d paddle out at their spot when El Niño hit a couple years ago. One of those girls pulled my leash as I went to drop in on a double-overhead day and I went over the falls and straight into the reef."
"Someone should get arrested for that!” Hinata yells, and the other guys nod in agreement.
Musty Boot laughs so hard his eyes nearly bug out of his head. “There’s no cops in surfing. Especially here. Everything is settled man to man. Or woman to man.”
“And so how would we settle with them?” Bokuto muses. He hasn’t been able to stop thinking about it since they left.
The host laughs again. “By realizing that’s a battle you’re never gonna win unless you wanna get pelted with sea urchins."
They grimace at the thought. Based on what they experienced, none of them doubted that you and your gang were crazy enough to do such a thing.
"Why don’t all the guys get together and storm their spot? They can’t scare everyone away,” Sakusa says as he picks at the few stubborn pieces of sand stuck to his arm. The other guys turn to Musty Boot, curious if he thinks it’s a valid strategy.
“Things are different here. It’s still a little bit old-world where men think women shouldn’t be doing anything but cooking meals and raising children. Back in the day, men wouldn’t even let the women in the line-up. They’d harass them, snake any wave a girl tried to catch, basically drove them away until they had no choice but to find their own secret spot. It’s not really so much that they’re keeping it for themselves, it’s more that they’re contained there.“
"But it’s such a good spot! Wouldn’t the men try n’ take it for themselves?"
"The girls would just start to trickle into the other spots instead - and if I’m being honest, the guys can’t handle it,” the older man tells them.
“What do you mean?” Hinata asks.
“Well, most guys don’t want to be shown up by a bunch of girls.”
“You can say that again,” Atsumu grunts.
“Are the men really that bad?” Bokuto questions. With two older sisters, he’s never really had an ego when it comes to women - not to say he doesn’t believe men are capable of being so fragile, but he doesn’t quite understand how a woman being good at something would be a bad thing. Sure he felt frustrated earlier, but it had little to do with your gender.
“Unfortunately, yes,” Musty Boot answers with a sigh. “But the girls are also that good."
The words stick with Bokuto as he lays down on his bunk, though not for long for the full day in the sun and the jet lag are on his heels. It feels like he’s still floating on his board, bobbing along to the roll of the waves, though it’s soothing as the image of your backside creeps into his mind. He even imagines you turning your head to look at him, a wicked smile painting your lips as sleep overtakes him.
Glossary - U.S.-based lingo
Benny - non-local
Frontside - riding chest facing the face of the wave (typically easier)
Backside - riding back facing the face of the wave (can be trickier)
Dry Hair Paddle Out - making it to the outside without having to duck dive. Indicates good wave sense and observation of the ocean.
Inside - where the waves have already broken, closer to shore, usually a little weaker and where beginner surfers stick to
Left/Right - the direction of the wave when facing the beach in the water
Local - someone who frequents a certain spot
Regular - left foot forward on the board
Localism - an unspoken law of the surf line-up. Locals get priority on waves and determine if/when non-locals get their turn. Can cause a lot of fights if taken seriously and not respected.
Outside - where the waves first crest, further away from the beach
Vacation Warrior - someone who only surfs when they’re on vacation
Wahine - Maori for “young woman” though also used to refer to girls who surf
