darling, she's a star
msby 4 x f!pole dancer!reader fluff!! reader does pole as a hobby (i don't know enough about professional pole dancing to write about it), boys are sweet, reader doesn't want to tell them about her pole dancing for whatever reason and the boys are all just 10/10 cw: mentions of previous bad experiences with men/dating, but nothing explicit wc: about 800 each a/n: just got home from two back to back pole classes so i'm posting this now !! yay
bokuto koutarou
you and bokuto have been going to the same gym for a few weeks now, and you've mostly been friendly with each other. or, at the very least, as friendly as acquaintances can be. you both give a polite nod or a wave when you see each other, he helped you put the calisthenics dip bars away one time, and you followed him to the parking lot when he left his water bottle behind last week.
however, you haven't really had what could be considered as an "actual conversation". now, it's not that bokuto doesn't want to talk to you; it's just that he finds you so pretty that it makes him nervous. you're his gym crush, there's no doubt about it. he spends his entire gym session racking his brain for how to approach you, but can never settle on anything, and by the time he shows up to msby training, he's sulking. he feels like he missed his chance again. his teammates never hear the end of it, and it's gotten to the point that even sakusa, of all people, has begun to tease him about it.
"dude, just ask her exercise questions or something," atsumu suggests one day, "that's something, right?"
"i don't know. what if she doesn't want to talk about gym stuff?" bokuto groans, head in his hands, "she'll probably just think i'm some dumb athlete."
"well, technically—" sakusa starts.
"don't," meian stops him and sighs, "koutarou, just introduce yourself to her. that's all you need to do. that's what we've been telling you to do."
he just groans again. maybe the captain's right, he thinks. there's only one way to find out — he'll try it out when he sees you again.
which happens the day after.
he goes up to you in between workout sets and introduces himself, shaking your hand as you give him your name.
then he panics. he got through the introduction part, but what now? meian just told him to introduce himself, but didn't say what to do after. maybe he should follow what atsumu said?
"so, uh, what are you training for?" he asks, scratching the back of his neck.
"what?" you ask.
"oh, i mean, i noticed that you do a really cool mix of weights and calisthenics stuff, i figured you might be training for something specific?"
you debate with yourself for a second if you should tell him. you're training for pole dance but, in the past, guys haven't had the most positive or even respectful responses to that. because of that, you tend to wait a bit before being honest about this.
however, you figure you might as well get this over with. you can't deny that you find bokuto cute and that you've been wanting to talk to him, so you might as well save yourself the hurt of finding out later on — when you're deep in your feelings — that he actually isn't okay with it.
"i actually pole dance," you explain, and his eyes widen.
here it comes, you brace yourself. you're trying to anticipate what sort of thing might come out of his mouth until he blurts out—
"oh wow, no wonder you're strong as fuck!" he beams.
"wait— what?" you jump a little at the volume of his voice.
"oh, sorry, i didn't mean to shout!" he says "i just— you guys do those crazy tricks right? where it looks like you're flying? that takes some insane muscle!"
"oh, uh, yeah!" you smile, starting to recover from the whiplash of this conversation, "that's why i do all this stuff outside of my dance classes. i asked my teachers for conditioning exercises, so i mix and match them whenever i'm here."
"that's awesome!" he says, "i've been trying to do that with my coach's advice, too. i play volleyball, by the way."
"oh, i've been trying to remember where i've seen you before! i think i've seen one of your games!"
he absolutely perks up at that, "really? you should come watch another one! and maybe we can exercise together sometime? you can teach me how you mix and match your workouts, and we can get dinner after!"
he only realizes what he just said after speaking, and he blushes. where did he even get the courage to ask you out? crap, maybe that was too forward, he thinks, she'll probably never—
"that sounds fun, yeah!" you smile at how pink his cheeks have gotten, "i'll give you my number and we can plan it?"
"y- yes! okay! definitely! that's perfect!" he hands you his phone and watches as you type in your number.
you talk a bit more before going back to your respective workouts, and he cannot wipe the smile off his face the entire time. he texts you the second he leaves the gym, already planning where to take you for that dinner date.
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miya atsumu
you've just started dating atsumu, and it's been a whirlwind in the best way. to be honest, he struck you as a fuckboy when you first met but — ever since you told him about that on your first "official" date — he's been determined to prove you wrong. he's made it a point to plan every date around your interests, get you "just because" flowers, and show you off whenever you come to cheer for him at his games. you love it, and he loves that you love it.
however, he's noticed that you haven't had much time for him lately. you've been saying "no" to dates and replying to him a lot later, and it has him worried. he just can't figure out what's wrong. you said that everything at work is fine, you've had time to hang out with your friends, and things seem to be alright with your family. that leaves only one thing.
maybe it's him? maybe he's moving too fast? or maybe it's not enough? is it because he hasn't asked you to be his girlfriend yet?
he's this close to spiraling in the middle of onigiri miya until his brother knocks some sense into him.
"stop moping and just ask her, you idiot," osamu says, wiping down the counter, "and if you're gonna stay here any longer, at least order something."
he hates to admit it, but he knows osamu's right.
so when he goes to pick you up from work half an hour later — with a batch of freshly made onigiri thanks to osamu — he brings it up.
"hey, is everything okay?" he asks once you both get in his car.
"everything's great, tsumu! why do you ask?"
"you've just been a little... distant, i guess? and i just wanted to make sure and see if there's anything i did to put you off?"
you how he's fiddling with the hem of his team jacket, switching between looking at you in the eye and glancing down, and that's when the guilt gets to you. you've been busy with your pole dance showcase coming up and you have yet to tell him about it. actually, you haven't even told him that you do it in the first place, worried that he wouldn't like it (or that he'd like it a little too much).
but right now he just looks so earnest as he patiently waits for you to respond, and all you want to do is reassure him.
"it's nothing bad, i promise," you start, "i've just been busy... with pole."
"pole?" he asks.
"i'm a pole dancer," you explain simply.
you probably shouldn't have waited this long, you think. even though he didn't leave the best first impression on you, he's been really sweet to you so far! and unlike the guys you've dated in the past, he doesn't seem like the type to go "why don't you give me a show, babe?" or "do i get a private dance?" or—
"can i watch you sometime?" atsumu asks.
oh. there it is.
you feel your heart sink and you shift away from him. your walls start to go up. you think, maybe my first impression was right. perhaps he is like those other guys. it was about time, right? this was bound to happen, it always does.
"atsumu, i—"
"wait, i didn't mean it in a weird way!" he says, noticing the change in you, " i just mean— i didn't mean to be creepy, and i'm not just saying that! i—"
he sighs, takes a deep breath. instinct makes you want to get out of the car, but reason makes you stay. he's clearly frustrated at himself for how he made you feel, how he caused this shift in you.
you wait for him to continue, silently hoping that he'll prove you wrong once again.
"i really want us to work out," he admits after a beat, "and that came out wrong. i meant— you've been coming to my games and i just thought, dancers have those shows right? those recitals? and i was thinking i could go to one of yours and get you your favorite flowers and clap really, really loud when you're up there and tell you that you did really well, just like how you tell me after one of my games. i just really like the idea of getting to support you like that."
"yeah?" you ask, the hope continuing to bloom in your chest.
"yeah," he nods as he gently takes your hand, "and i don't have to watch if you're uncomfortable! i'm happy to be the boyfriend who picks you up after the show. still with a huge bouquet of flowers, of course."
you smile, "that sounds ni— wait, boyfriend?"
"i mean, i still plan on asking you properly, but yeah."
you thread your fingers through his, "i like the sound of that."
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sakusa kiyoomi
you're buzzing around kiyoomi's apartment, tidying things up and preparing for him to get home from practice. your relationship is relatively new, but you've still been spending a lot time at each other's place nearly every week. he gave you to the spare keys to his apartment a few days ago because you had mentioned wanting to try out a new recipe for your friday dinner date.
you have the table set up beautifully: a couple of candles, two wine glasses waiting to be filled (it is a friday, after all), and two plates of a mouth-watering, well-balanced, and hopefully professional athlete-approved meal. you're pretty damn proud of yourself, if you're being honest, and you hope your boyfriend loves it, too.
you're setting aside the pan you just rinsed off when you hear the door unlock.
"i'm home," kiyoomi greets, taking his shoes off by the entrance, "it smells amazing, love."
"thank you! i hope it tastes as good as it smells, too," you say, greeting him with a kiss on the cheek, "how was practice?"
"it was good, yeah," he says, kissing the top of your head before he goes to wash his hands, "the guys actually showed me something really interesting."
"what was it?"
he dries his hands off and you both sit at the table. a pause.
"can i ask you something first?"
now normally, you can read whatever emotion flies across kiyoomi's face. especially without a face mask on, it's pretty easy to figure out what he's thinking. he's definitely not as ice cold as the public makes him out to be, but now you're starting to see where they get that idea.
for the first time since you started dating, you cannot read him at all. he has the exact same look on his face as when he's on the court: focused and calculating, looking through all the possibilities to find the best way to get what he needs.
a little nervous, you nod, "go ahead."
"do i make you uncomfortable?" he asks directly.
"not at all."
"do you trust me?"
"i do," you say, "can i ask where all this is coming from?"
he takes a second, gathers his thoughts, "the person bokuto started seeing, she's a dancer. they met at the gym."
"oh," you say, unsure where this is going, "good for him."
"she's a pole dancer," he continues.
and suddenly it all makes sense.
he found out.
it's not like you planned to keep your pole dancing a secret forever; you just didn't know how he would feel. things have been going so well between you two and you just kept pushing this back and it just never seemed like the right time. it's gotten to the point where it always feels like it's too late to say anything.
for now, you simply nod, "i see."
"he was showing us her instagram where she posts videos from her classes, and i saw you."
this is it, you think. like every guy before, he has one problem or another with the fact that you pole dance. he's either going to break up with you or give you an unfair ultimatum, or he'll say it's too inappropriate or risqué or improper or—
"you look really happy when you dance," he observes, "and i want to know if i did anything to make you feel like you couldn't tell me about this."
you stare at him, trying to process what he just said.
so he doesn't have a problem with it?
"no, i don't," he says, making you realize you said that out loud, "but now i am concerned that i might have done something to make you think i would."
"you… you didn't. people in the past just haven't been the most, uh, receptive or respectful of my pole dancing."
he nods, reaching for your hand, "well, for what it's worth, i only ever have the most respect and love for you. and to me, this is now another thing that i get to love about you. so if you're comfortable, i would really appreciate if you told me more."
"yeah?"
he smiles, breaking that unreadable facade of his. you see a wave of emotions cross his face that can only be described by one word: warmth.
"yes. maybe you can tell me all about it while we enjoy this dinner you've made?"
"i'd love to," you give his hand a quick squeeze.
you spend the dinner filling him in on everything: how you started, what you love so much about it, the tricks you've been learning lately. he listens intently, letting you ramble and asking you questions to learn more. throughout the night, that look of warmth never leaves his face. he simply marvels at the way your eyes light up as you talk, and he makes a silent promise that he'll always make sure you feel safe enough to share your life with him.
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hinata shoyo
you met hinata through a mutual friend and instantly hit it off. in fact, your conversations flowed so easily that if people didn't know better, they would have assumed that you'd known each other for years.
naturally, the two of you started dating. hinata is absolutely smitten with you — he sees you every chance he gets, replies to your messages as soon as he can, and pays for every meal (he lets you pay for dessert a few times when you insist, but that's the only time he'll let you bring your wallet out). he also regularly invites you over to his apartment for more relaxed dates, which is what you're preparing for right now.
you're strolling through the aisles of the supermarket when he calls.
"hey, sho!" you greet, "i was just getting snacks for tomorrow. sour gummies or hot chips?"
"get both, i'll pay you back!" he says, "i actually wanted to ask: is it alright if we hang out at your place tomorrow? my neighbor's having some construction done and it's way too loud."
"oh, yeah, that's no problem! you have the address saved, right?"
"yup! i'll come over after practice tomorrow? around 6?"
"sounds great, see you!"
"see you soon!"
you end the call, and only then do you realize:
oh shit.
this is his first time coming over.
he's going to see it.
by "it" you mean the pole you had installed in your living room so you could practice at home. you've been holding off on telling him because people in the past have disrespected your pole dancing, from oversexualizing it to not treating it as an actual sport (which all types of dance should be considered as, you strongly believe).
however, maybe hinata's different? he's never shut down or been ignorant of any of your other interests and hobbies so far, so there is reason to believe he'll be cool about all of it. besides, you'll have to tell him about this eventually. maybe his neighbor's construction work is some weird sign that now's the best time to do so.
you spend the rest of the day preparing and trying not too worry too much about what he'll think. soon enough, it's the next day and it's nearly time for him to arrive.
it'll be fine, you try to convince yourself, this is hinata we're talking about.
the doorbell rings. he's here.
you wipe your sweaty palms on your shorts and take a deep breath. you open the door.
"there she is!" he greets, a huge bag of snacks and drinks in one arm and a bouquet of your favorite flowers in another. always such a gentleman.
you open the door wider, accepting the flowers as he enters your apartment.
"i'm really sorry we couldn't stay at my place today."
"it's no problem! i'm happy to have you over this time," you say, trying to sound more cheerful than usual to mask the nerves.
"where should i put the food— oh cool! what's that?"
here we go. time to see what he thinks, time to see if the gamble of inviting him over is worth it.
"that's my pole."
it stands tall and proud in the space between your dining table and the back of your couch. you have a mat resting against one wall (for when you're practicing inversions), and your heels placed next to that.
"you dance?" he asks, turning to you. your heart is racing so fast you can't even discern the expression he has right now.
you nod, "yeah, for a couple years now."
silence that probably only lasts a second or two feels like eternity to you as you brace yourself for the worst.
"that's awesome! why didn't you tell me before?" he asks excitedly.
"you don't mind?"
"why would i?" he tilts his head, eyebrows coming together in genuine confusion, "oh! are you recovering from an injury or something? is it unsafe?"
"no, nothing like that," you go to sit on the couch and invite him to take the spot next to you, "guys in the past just had a lot of… opinions about it."
he hums, "i see. well, i think it's great! do you think you could teach me sometime?"
you nod, laughing. he gets you to talk more about pole dancing — asking what feels like a hundred questions, all of which you're more than happy to answer — for the rest of the night. he listens intently and, on top of that, he takes you seriously. this is something you love and dedicate a lot of time to, and he shows just how much he respects that.
you're in the middle of telling him about your last class when suddenly,
"oh my god," he exclaims.
"what?"
his eyes light up as he smiles down at you, "i'm dating an athlete!"
