#Tee better give me the details

[respectthepetty]

Hi Respect!

I really loved @placetneplacet's post calling out how Zo's fears around Joke went directly back to his interactions with Puen, and you highlighting the specifics of how it's impacted Zo throughout the series. You both tapped so adeptly into something I've been rather incoherently rambling about, regarding how fear is a reoccurring motif in the show. And I was curious about your thoughts (and anyone else's) on how Joke's fear is being portrayed so far. We're seeing him push through a lot of more...I don't want to say superficial, because they're still quite valid...but more traditional human phobias (height, rollercoasters, etc) due to his desire to be near Zo. But there was that one scene where he absolutely panicked at Zo not answering the door & phone, to a rather excessive degree (I think most of us would assume our friend was asleep or stepped out without their phone before we decided they were probably dying and needed our help). So it seems that he's able to overcome fears in order to get closer to love, but that same love is also his biggest Achilles' heel around fear.

It feels to me that Joke has a rather substantial fear around loss based on something that happened in the past. And I'm wondering if there's going to be something revealed that will cause Zo's fear to retrigger, and maybe pull back, and then that will create issues around Joke's fear around losing Zo...

Anyway, would love to hear your thoughts!

(Adore your color analysis, btw)

@befuddledcinnamonroll, this is me after reading this -

@heretherebedork has mentioned a similar idea that Joke has his own issues with abandonment and loss due to the way he reacts to Zo's distance.

I'm of the mind that Joke is simply a lovesick guy who subjects his cousin to Sad Boy Karaoke when Zo avoids him.

But you and @heretherebedork have pointed out several instances of Joke panicking when it concerns Zo like the apartment moment.

And @chicademartinica mentioned that episode three was just forty-five minutes of watching Joke panic to the point that he showed up in the middle of the night outside of Zo's apartment

All because Zo was "acting weird earlier."

When it was because he touched Zo, and Zo ran for the hills.

TWICE!

But now that I think about it . . . maybe I've been too dismissive of Joke's behavior.

I took Joke for being the usual pushy seme in a BL, but when it comes to Zo, he is really pushy.

I have defended Joke's behavior because, to me, it's needed to break through Zo's resistance, but . . .

Each time Joke has been called out for his behavior, he offers a variation of this response:

And next week, when confronted with his hidden agenda (if it isn't him conspiring with Pat to get Zo, I'm going to be shocked - LOOK AT THE REFLECTION!)

He offers the same reasoning - due to his actions being based on his care for and of Zo, he wasn't in the wrong.

Which leads to Zo getting upset.

During their pseudo-date, Zo told him the story of roses.

In response, Joke mentioned he would never let his lover go.

Joke stated he "would never let someone [he] loves face danger alone."

We have four episodes left and have no idea where Joke's parents are. Why did he take Zo to meet his grandmother, and not his parents? But we've seen Joke cover for Nita to protect her from a stalker to the point that he didn't defend himself against rumors. And we saw how he reacted to James and Puen hurting his loved ones.

Joke's reactions are reasonable to me, but both Nita and Zo had to drag him off James, and Joke wanted to fight Puen so the second Puen grabbed Zo's arm, Zo had to tell Joke to back off.

I want there to be a reason beyond love that makes Joke so protective, but like you mentioned, what if love really is his Achilles' heel? What if Joke gets so blinded by love that he can't see reason? What if he wants to protect Zo so badly because one time he didn't?

And what if it all stems from the freshy contest?

Because even then, Joke had his reasons.

Perhaps the one time Joke didn't cross the line and didn't push back, was the one time he didn't protect Zo.

And he can't allow that to happen again.

[pin-k-ink]

PLAYING PRETEND ⋆✦⋆ bokuto koutaro

synopsis ➸ you’ve been the one to help bokuto out of tight situations all your life, but now he’s put you in the toughest spot yet. with his team eager to meet the girl he’s “been dating for years,” you’ll have to pull off the act of a lifetime—and bokuto’s loving every second of it.

tags ➸ childhood friends to lovers, mutual pining, posséssive behavior, fluff, praise kínk, semi-public, heavy petting, dírty talking, cunniłingus, unprotécted séx, overstimúlation, manhándling

wc ➸ 25.3k (i’m sorry i’m reverting back to writing lengthier stuff)

You groaned as the shrill trilling of your phone cleaved through the velvety silence of the night like a fog horn. A glance at the display confirmed it was well past midnight - definitely past any reasonable hour for civil human interaction. Only one person would have the audacity to disturb your slumber at this ungodly hour.

Squinting against the harsh LED glare, you felt your lips tug into a disgruntled frown as Bokuto's stupid, gorgeous face filled the screen. Of course he wasn't just calling - the human embodiment of chaos always insisted on FaceTiming, never content until he could fully bombard you with his exaggerated expressions and mile-a-minute vocal acrobatics.

"For the love of God, Bokuto..." you grumbled, scrubbing the heel of your palm across your bleary eyes as you accepted the call with a resigned tap. "This had better involve a level four or higher crisis, otherwise I'm finding flight details to drop-kick you into the nearest active volcanooooohhh my god, what is that look?"

Through the slightly grainy camera feed, Bokuto's distinctive gold-colored irises blew wide in a parody of theatric innocence, chin already trembling precariously as he arranged his cherubic features into that impossibly pathetic pout he knew you were powerless against. The disarming effect was only amplified by the casual tangle of silvery-streaked locks framing his visage and the oversized tee riding low enough to showcase the sinewy definition of his bare collarbones.

"Don't give me that look, I know exactly what you're doing," you fired back, squaring your shoulders in a valiant effort at steeling your defenses against the impending barrage of whining and guilt-tripping sure to come. "There's no crisis dire enough to justify you faceplanting into my DMs looking like...like that at this time of night."

"C'monnnn, don't be so grumpy!" Bokuto whined, the faintest hint of a whine already creeping into his dulcet tones as he blinked those ridiculously long, feathery lashes up at you from beneath the messy sheaf of pale fringe draping across his brow. "I just really needed to see my favorite person in the whole wide world's pretty face, that's all! Is that so wrong of me?"

You snorted at the blatant placation attempt even as you felt your initial irritation softening fractionally against your will. Leave it to Bokuto to put that honeyed-rasp of a voice and those achingly earnest puppy-dog peepers to devastating use from the get-go.

"Spare me the nauseating theatrics, Bo," you deadpanned, shaking your head in exaggerated exasperation. "You and I both know there's approximately a zero percent chance you'd willingly go this long without demanding my undivided attention for some fresh nonsense."

Bokuto's boyishly handsome features scrunched into an exaggerated pout at your bald-faced dismissals, all put-upon petulance and ruffled feathers in a display so quintessentially 'him' that you couldn't quite fight off the warm fluttering taking up residence in your chest. The sort of helpless, reflexive fondness you could only ever seem to muster for this unrepentant goof of a human being.

"Aww, but I'm being so good tonight!" He pressed out his lower lip even further, fluttering those damnable lashes until they practically bristled. "I haven't even mentioned how distracting my butt looked in those new compression shorts for our last game, have I?"

You choked on a startled bark of laughter at that before quickly stifling the sound, eyes sparking in a fresh blaze of undisguised amusement as you shook your head.

"And just like that, we're officially off the rails into Bokuto Chaos Territory. Well done, dude - solid fifteen-second delay on taking us there this time! I think that's a new record for you."

Grinning unabashedly now, Bokuto simply shrugged those broad shoulders in an artfully cavalier manner. It was impossible to miss the way the fabric of his shirt pulled taut across the impressively sculpted contours in the process - evidence of the punishing regimen his role as a professional athlete now demanded. But the undeniably roguish flare of his smirk ensured you had no doubts as to whether he was entirely aware of the effect he was having.

"What can I say? I aim t'please - especially you, babe. You know you're the only woman I'll ever willingly melt for like this."

The wink he punctuated that observation with - sly and effortlessly charming – nearly caused you to swallow your own tongue as you choked on an incoherent grumble of chiding. But he was already pressing on before you could formulate an appropriately withering rejoinder, all boyish eagerness and showman's flair.

"Listen, I wouldn't have dared to disturb the beauty regimen of the literal love of my life except this is an official, code red, four-alarm crisis in desperate need of your guidance!"

You sighed through your nose, squeezing the bridge of it between your thumb and forefinger in a futile bid at staving off the headache you could already feel brewing between your temples. Right, because of course this was all leading toward one of Bokuto's utterly absurd requests inevitably spiraling out to cosmic levels of mayhem and chaos. As usual.

"Fine," you grunted in feigned resignation, locking eyes with his screen depiction. You felt another small thrill at the sight of him leaning in hungrily, clearly hanging on your every word and reaction. "Go ahead and lay this so-called 'crisis' on me, Koutaro - just try to be slightly more coherent with the details this time. I'm fresh out of patience for wading through your usual mile-a-minute mouth dribbling tonight."

The mirth swiftly drained from Bokuto's expression at your gruff demand, his handsome features crumpling like a deflated balloon. You immediately recognized the telltale signs - lips pursing into a mulish downward curl, shoulders slumping heavily, those normally vibrant eyes going dull and shuttered.

"Uh oh, looks like someone's Emo Mode is kicking in early tonight," you drawled, unable to resist prodding that particular bear just a little. "Whatever could have trampled all over your sunshine-y disposition this time, hm?"

Bokuto fidgeted, worrying his full lower lip between rows of straight white teeth. His gaze skittered away from the camera, drifting somewhere over your shoulder before finally returning to pin you with an unmistakably stricken look.

"It's really bad this time, okay?" His voice emerged hushed, raspy in a way that plucked straight at the protective heartstrings you'd carried for him since childhood. "I did something incredibly stupid, and now I desperately need you to agree to an absolutely massive favor to get me out of the hole I've dug myself into."

You arched one eyebrow coolly, regarding him through narrow slits of growing exasperation. This was hardly the first instance of Bokuto landing himself up shit creek without a paddle thanks to his penchant for reckless word-vomiting. More often than not, you found yourself recruited into whatever foolish messes he stumbled into like a moderating life raft, tasked with the unenviable job of buffering the chaos and keeping him tethered to reality before everything went utterly pear-shaped.

"Lay it on me then. Can't be any worse than that time you convinced half the Fukurodani squad you were an actual descendant of Athena and could communicate with barn owls telepathically."

Your words seemed to jog something in Bokuto's prodigious memory, because he instantly bristled with an affronted squawk.

"Hey, that wasn't all my fault and you know it! Yukippe is the one who planted that stupid seed in my head about having 'superior avian DNA' or whatever!"

You shrugged one shoulder indolently, the ghost of a taunting smile playing about the corners of your mouth as you drank in the chagrined flush stealing across Bokuto's cheekbones. For all his blustering displays of hot-blooded machismo, the guy was still just an overgrown kid at heart - so delightfully easy to fluster when called out on his adorably skewed flights of fancy.

"Sure, sure. And I suppose she's also responsible for you spending three straight months insisting we all address you as 'Grand Duke Koutarov' until Akaashi finally caught you raiding the home ec kitchen for expired bird seed?"

The sheepish chuckle that rumbled from Bokuto's throat in response was answer enough. You smirked, satisfaction curling hot in your belly at having seized the teasing ground even as he attempted to rally with one of those boyish pouts specifically engineered to bend you to his whims.

"Okayyyyy, maybe that one got a little out of hand," he hedged slowly, raking one hand through the wild thatch of salt-and-pepper locks tumbling into his eyes. The motion only made him look more adorably tousled and inviting - lush mouth slack and bee-stung, those biceps cording with well-trained definition beneath the snug fabric of his worn tee.

Not for the first time, you found yourself dragging your attention away from dissecting every arresting detail of him with conscious effort. A futile battle, that, as your eyes were perpetually drawn back to mapping those razor-sharp cheekbones and heavy-lidded bedroom stare with undisguised appreciation.

Friends you might be, but you'd have to be legally brain-dead to somehow miss just how devastatingly, panty-scramblingly gorgeous Bokuto Kotaro had become with age and athletic refinement. The thought caused a sudden flush of warmth to bloom beneath your chest, accompanied by a series of highly unbecoming images you swiftly banished to some dark, neglected recess of your mind.

"But this is way worse than any of that stuff, I swear!" Bokuto pressed ahead with renewed urgency. The slight wheeze of desperation underpinning his words was enough to snare your focus anew, brow furrowing in spite of your attempts at preserving a lofty detachment. "The guys on my team, the Jackals...they've been giving me so much shit lately about never having had a serious girlfriend before. Just relentlessly harassing me over being some kinda hopeless bachelor still at my age."

You rolled your eyes at that, already feeling a fresh swell of exasperation mounting as you sensed where this was likely headed. Of course the emotionally stunted jock culture surrounding professional sports would latch onto something as childishly reductive as romantic experience to rag on one of their star players about.

"So let me guess," you cut in dryly before Bokuto could really get the waterworks flowing in full force. "Rather than taking the high road or simply telling your idiot teammates to mind their own business, you decided to spice things up by dumping out some fresh batches of bullshit instead, right? Claimed you've secretly been in a torrid love affair for years with some lucky mystery woman to get them off your back?"

As the words left your lips, Bokuto's expression morphed into one of comically exaggerated horror - liquid mercury irises blowing wide until they seemed to compose nearly the entirety of his face, plush mouth dropping open in a strangled uh wuh uh noise of shocked dismay. You snorted indelicately at the sight, rapping one knuckle against the screen in a chiding gesture.

"Bingo," you crooned with a roll of your eyes, already sensing the meltdown rapidly reaching critical mass. "God, for an actual adult who's supposed to be the shining beacon on an internationally ranked sports franchise, you can be such an utter child sometimes."

Bokuto gaped at you for a long stretch of incredulous silence before finally seeming to recapture the power of speech, sputtering and flailing his way back onto what you assumed was meant to be some sort of defensive tack.

"How-how do you always just...just know me so freakishly well like this?!" He threw up his hands in an explosive burst of frustration, hair flying in wild disarray with the sudden motion. "I haven't even told you the critical details yet and you're already riding my case like some omniscient psychic dictator! It's almost scary how well you've got me pegged after all these years, babe."

Despite his blustery indignation, you easily detected the undercurrent of fondness that lurked just beneath the gruff protestations. Hell, you'd have to be utterly dense not to pick up on just how much your longtime connection meant to the human embodiment of chaos currently squirming under your scrutiny.

"First of all, take about five deep breaths and quit channeling that patented 'Emo Mode' overdrive of yours," you instructed crisply, leaning back against the pillows to better regard him with a level stare. "All that over-emoting is going to cook off what few functioning brain cells you've got left at this rate, Bo."

Bokuto opened his mouth - no doubt to argue that exact point – but swiftly snapped it shut again at your quelling look. He visibly swallowed...then complied, sucking down several exaggerated gulps of air that expanded his powerful chest and slumped shoulders with each shallow inhalation. Already, you could see some of the manic desperation smoothing from the sharp angles of his face, tension ebbing in miniscule increments the longer you allowed the silence between you both to linger.

"Good, much better," you praised at last when his expression had notched back down to something closer to his normal temperature. "Now lay it all out for me plainly, why don't you? What exactly did you tell your poor, misguided teammates that has you desperately calling me at...three in the morning, completely hysterical?"

There was a beat of anticipatory pause where Bokuto seemed to wordlessly gather his bearings. Then, summoning his courage, he finally raised those golden irises to yours again with an earnestness that had your breath catching somewhere beneath your breastbone.

"Okay, look...I may have...possibly...kinda told them all that I've been secretly dating you for a couple years now?"

You stared at Bokuto in stunned silence, letting the weight of his admission fully sink in. He'd told his professional volleyball teammates...that you two were secretly dating? A sort of disbelieving laugh bubbled up from your chest.

"You're joking, right? Please tell me you're joking and just messing with me like usual."

But the sheepish expression on Bokuto's face said it all. He rubbed at the back of his neck, unable to meet your incredulous gaze through the camera.

"I really wish I was..." he mumbled, mouth turned down in an exaggerated pout that bordered on what you recognized as his "Emo Mode" warning signs. "The guys just wouldn't let up about my love life - or total lack thereof. One thing led to another and the next thing I knew, I was telling them about this totally real, super serious girlfriend I've been dating on the down-low for years now."

You pinched the bridge of your nose, feeling the first stirrings of a tension headache coming on. Classic Bokuto - always digging himself into unnecessary holes without a second thought.

"And let me guess," you said dryly. "This 'totally real, super serious girlfriend' you claimed to have just happened to be me?"

Bokuto's eyes went wide and pleading, somehow making himself look even more pitiful through the camera lens.

"Who else was I gonna say, babe?" His voice took on that unmistakable wheedling tone you knew all too well. "You're, like, the only lady I know, apart from my mom. We've been thicker than thieves since we were little kids! You really think I'd name some random chick as my ride-or-die when we both know you're the only woman on this entire planet I'd ever trust with that kinda responsibility?"

You tried to keep your expression impassive, but felt your resolve slipping at the naked earnestness shining in those gold-colored eyes. Bokuto always had been able to worm his way under your skin with surprising ease, toeing the line between charming vulnerability and outright manipulation like a goddamn artiste.

"Using our friendship as an excuse for your latest boneheaded move is pretty low, even for you," you chided, though the words lacked any real bite.

Bokuto barreled on before you could properly muster your scolding, somehow managing to crank the pathos up even higher.

"C'mon, c'mon, just hear me out here! There's no way I'da thrown some poor, unsuspecting lady's name under the bus for the guys to make fun of her." His eyes took on a sudden, almost manic gleam as another thought seemed to occur to him. "And you already know how they are - if I didn't give them someone real to gossip about, those vultures would've grilled me to the bone over making up some imaginary chick!"

You opened your mouth, ready to eviscerate him over that particularly glaring logical leap, but he didn't give you the chance. The words started spilling from Bokuto's lips like an uncorked geyser.

"Not to mention that if it wasn't you, they one-hundred percent would've demanded I get this supposed lady-friend of mine to official team events and stuff!" Golden eyes went comically wide, imploring you to see reason. "Can you even imagine how awkward and horrible that would've been, lying through my teeth about dating some poor random civilian and then trying to drag her into all our invasive professional shit?? You'd have murdered me for real if I did that to somebody, babe!"

He paused just long enough to suck down a deep gulp of breath, one calloused palm reaching up to rake back the artfully tousled strands of sweat-damp hair falling across his forehead. Somehow, the simple grooming motion only amplified the artfully-mussed air of boyish charisma and vulnerability Bokuto seemed to effortlessly exude like a damn cologne. You felt your mouth go suddenly dry at the sight as he continued in a softer, more entreating register.

"What was I supposed to do, babe? You know you're the only girl in my life I'd ever feel comfortable dragging into this craziness like that. The guys already give me no end of shit, but at least with you they'd know not to push too far with the comments or disrespect." His lips quirked in a small, wry smile that made your heart perform an honest-to-god pitter-pat against your ribcage. "I mean, you'd probably terrify them into proper behavior after one glance if we're being real here."

You snorted indelicately at that, mostly just to disguise the way your pulse had kicked up a notch as his familiar charm offensive slowly wormed its way beneath your defenses. He grinned back at you - all warm affection and playful mirth...right up until that smile faltered around the edges and his gaze abruptly dropped from yours.

"But if you're, like...actually bothered by me using your name like that, I totally understan-"

"Oh, can it with the sad puppy-dog eyes and simpering theatrics," you found yourself grumbling before Bokuto could fully launch into another one of his patented shame-spirals. He immediately brightened, head snapping back up to refocus on you through the screens with obvious delight.

"Wait, so does this mean...?"

You threw up your hands in a decidedly unladylike display of exasperation. "I'm saying I'll play along with your latest bout of delirious self-sabotage for now, sure. God only knows what fresh nightmare I'd be signing myself up for if I left you to flail and sink on this one alone."

Bokuto was already vibrating with unconstrained jubilation, though you tried to press on before he could properly erupt into loud celebrations.

"But hear me loud and clear on this part, Koutaro - the last time I cover for one of your fabrication frenzies, you got it? Because I sure as shit am not dealing with any awkward, 'oh golly, this is my pretend girlfriend I've been lying to everyone about' meetups with your teammates or anyone else. This ends with our weird little charade and that's it, understood?"

Even as you were voicing that hard ultimatum, you could already feel your sternness weakening in the face of Bokuto's uninhibited excitement. The man was literally glowing at you through the screen - all sunshine smile, glittering eyes radiating fondness and affection with every ounce of his focus zeroed in on drinking in your gruff rebukes like they were the sweetest poetry ever composed. Despite yourself, you felt that now-familiar fluttering sensation begin to bloom behind your breastbone anew at the rapt, unrestrained devotion he aimed in your direction so effortlessly. Like you were the only other person in his entire universe.

So when he nodded enthusiastically, looking for all the world like an eager golden retriever puppy receiving head scritches from its favorite human, you couldn't quite summon the full breadth of your usual scolding.

"You got it, you got it! I swear on every last possession and ounce of pride remaining to my name, this is just going to be a one-time, little white lie to get the guys off my back!" Bokuto was positively effervescent now, eyes sparkling with mischief and adrenaline at having already begun plotting multiple steps ahead as usual. "Though... now that you've agreed to go along for the ride, I guess there is one more little, tiny, easily accomplished favor I'll need to cash in from my self-proclaimed partner-in-chaotic-crimes..."

You eyed him warily even as your stomach performed a telltale swoop of premature trepidation. "I'm already regretting this, but go ahead - lay it on me. What fresh hell am I signing up for this time?"

The roguish wink and toothy grin Bokuto flashed you in response sucked the air directly from your lungs. For an eternally suspended breath, he simply let the moment stew and thicken before finally detonating the words you already knew would irrevocably spell your ruination.

"So...how'd you feel about joining me, Tsumu, Shoyo, and Omi-Omi for a fancy team dinner out next weekend—?"

"Absolutely not!" The words burst from your lips before you could even fully process the audacity of Bokuto's latest request. "There's no way in hell I'm putting myself through that kind of awkward third-degree just so you can perpetuate this little white lie further, Bo."

Bokuto's sunny expression immediately crumpled into one of theatric dismay, liquid gold irises going wide and pleading in that sickeningly effective way of his. You simply shook your head, mouth set in a flat line of adamant refusal as you held up a forestalling hand.

"Don't even try hitting me with those ridiculous puppy-dog peepers, you manipulative little gremlin. Your jackass teammates already know me as the surly old friend who's been putting up with your chaos since we were literal children together." You arched one pointed brow at him through the camera. "What exactly do you think their reactions are gonna be when I waltz in playing the part of your supposedly super-serious, ultra-intimate girlfriend persona you've been feeding them? Use those last few functional brain cells you've got left for once, dude."

Bokuto gnawed petulantly on his plump lower lip, handsome features scrunching into an exaggerated pout that did absolutely nothing to diminish his patently boyish appeal. If anything, the calculated vulnerability he projected with those mannerisms only seemed to amplify the sudden, hot flare of inappropriate interest smoldering low in your belly.

"They don't know the half of how...intensely close we really are, though," he wheedled, giving you pause with the obvious implication woven into those words.

You swallowed hard, mouth abruptly dry as cotton at the unexpected suggestiveness suffusing his tone. Your eyes raked helplessly over the screen, tracing the sharp vee of Bokuto's collarbones where they strained against the stretched collar of his shirt, the corded definition of his biceps cradling the phone like they were specifically designed to wrap around something far more...intimate.

"I m-mean," he stammered on with a sheepish chuckle, one hand darting up to scrub the wild thatch of silver and onyx locks into even further disarray. "Based on what I've been...embellishing for them, my so-called girlfriend and I are pretty uh...physical? Active? In that department, if y'know what I mean."

The hot flush you felt crawling up the back of your neck at his unsubtle insinuation could have seared flesh from bone. Still, you refused to allow Bokuto the satisfaction of giving in so easily, straightening your shoulders in a determined facade of composure.

"That's exactly why I'm not indulging this latest bout of lunacy any further, Koutaro. I know you - which means I know for a fact there's no line of depraved fabrication you wouldn't eagerly blur or outright barrel straight past when it comes to spinning wild fantasies these days." You aimed a narrow look at him through your lashes. "So spare me any further salacious teasers or implications about what sort of freaky role-play scenarios you might have regaled your poor teammates with already. I don't need those kinds of visuals seared onto my mind permanently."

A brief look of consternation flickered across Bokuto's handsome features at your rather forceful shutdown there. But he seemed to rally almost immediately, scooting forward until his face practically devoured the entire screen in an ill-advised attempt at looking more earnest and irresistible. The heavy-lidded effect it lent to those simmering, golden eyes only succeeded in stoking the inner maelstrom of conflict currently churning through your abdomen.

"C'mon, babe...Please?" The entreaty emerged with such unguarded sincerity and naked vulnerability that you felt your adamant refusals swiftly begin to buckle. "I wouldn't ask this of you if it wasn't absolutely dire, I swear! Those jackasses are going to eat me alive if I don't produce something to substantiate at least part of my tall tales soon. And after all these years, you know damn well you're the only person in this whole world I'd ever trust to have my back like this!"

When you simply held his intent stare in stubborn silence, Bokuto seemed to deflate slightly. His shoulders slumped, that full lower lip jutting out in an incredibly unbecoming - or was it terribly, inappropriately appealing? - pout.

"Please, kitten?" The pet name, coupled with the raw sincerity radiating from every pore of his being in that instant, punched straight through your defenses like they were wet cardboard. "For your old buddy Bo? Just this once, I swear..."

You swore your heart actually stopped beating for a solid ten seconds. That ridiculously saccharine, syrupy endearment falling from Bokuto's lips and somehow managing to ooze so much implicit affection and warmth...it was like he'd detonated some sort of primal hormone bomb deep within your limbic system. All rational thought processes slammed to a screeching halt as you tried and failed to parse how or why those two simple, nonsensical syllables could fill you with such molten, unfettered want in the span of a single heartbeat.

Bokuto must have easily misread the stunned silence gripping you in that moment, because his expression slowly collapsed towards utter dejection. As he hunched over and prepared to cut the video call short in obvious defeat, you finally found your voice again.

"Hold your horses there, Casanova," you bit out in a strained rasp, startling his forlorn gaze back up to the screen. "I didn't actually say no yet, did I now?"

His eyes went comically wide at your admission, lips parting in a silent 'oh' of surprise. You sighed heavily, already resigning yourself to the inevitable as you pressed onward.

"Give me one good reason why I should bother indulging this charade, and I'll..." Your throat clicked in a convulsive swallow. "I'll consider going along with whatever fresh hell you've cooked up this time. But I want the full, unvarnished truth - no more cutesy lies or dodging around shit. You got me?"

Bokuto nodded so vigorously for a moment you were concerned he might give himself whiplash. The hand not clutching his phone immediately lifted to rake back through his hair again, leaving the sweat-damp tendrils in a state of wild disarray. You had a sudden, visceral vision of your own fingers tunneling through those tantalizingly mussed silver strands, nails lightly scoring his scalp and sending delicious shudders ricocheting down his powerful frame.

"Okay, honesty, got it." He seemed to collect himself with a series of bracing breaths before locking you with that same earnest, searingly direct look from before. "The truth is, having you there - even just as some goofy pretend girlfriend prop - would make this so much more bearable for me. Those guys on my team...they don't pull any punches when it comes to the trash talk and digs, y'know?"

Something inside you twisted at the uncharacteristic thread of insecurity lacing Bokuto's low timbre just then. You could picture it all too vividly - the sorts of crass ribbing and vulgar teasing a pack of hypercompetitive athletes on the same professional team could devolve into. Especially directed towards the raw nerve that was Bokuto's conspicuous lack of any legitimate romantic experiences. It was the sort of environment that could swiftly become brutally emasculating and toxic for a sensitive soul like his.

"But with you there?" Bokuto's gorgeous eyes crinkled at the corners as a secret, unguarded smile tugged at one side of his sinful mouth. "They'd never dream of trying to back me into a corner or single me out for too much ridicule, babe. Not with the infamous 'queen of cutting a bitch' herself standing guard, no sir."

You narrowed your eyes, ignoring the sudden pang of flattery blossoming unexpectedly in your chest at the open admiration in his tone.

"So that's it? You just want me there as some sort of human shield to keep your idiot teammates from teasing you too hard about your deeply lacking dating resume?"

Bokuto chuckled, biting his lush lower lip in a way that briefly derailed your train of thought in the most unacceptable of fashions. "Well it sure as hell wouldn't hurt matters, that's for damn certain. But nah, that's not the real hook I had in mind to try reeling you in on this one with."

You were already shaking your head in resignation before he even continued. "Figures you'd have some sort of angle all primed from the start, you lovable gremlin. Fine, hit me with it - what exactly is this 'hook' you've been saving to sweet talk me into compliance, hmm?"

The achingly roguish grin and sly, heavy-lidded look of self-satisfaction that split Bokuto's features at that instant made your mouth go abruptly dry all over again. He leaned back slightly, posture going deceptively relaxed and loose as he let the sudden tension thicken to a stifling degree.

"Simple," he purred finally, voice dropping a whole sinful octave that had you squirming against your will. "I agree to take you on an all-expenses paid weekend getaway to that super-exclusive hot springs retreat you've been drooling over for literal years. Just me and you indulging in all the revitalizing treatments, massages, private mineral baths overlooking the scenic mountaintops...the whole nine yards, no questions asked."

You gaped at him mutely, all the air forcibly expelled from your lungs in the wake of that bombshell. It was quite literally your single most deep-seated, unrealized pleasure fantasy - to spend an entire decadent weekend soaking in steaming hot pools and pampering yourself senseless. The ultimate indulgence in pure self-care and indulgence that always felt too extravagant to justify splurging on solo.

But with Bokuto's open-ended offer of companionship and corporation on the table?

"I fucking knew you'd been wanting to take a trip to that ritzy place ever since they opened," Bokuto crowed triumphantly, already sensing victory within his grasp through your pole-axed silence. "So, whaddya say babe? Fancy joining me for a little...getaway after our charade of a date night? Just a lowkey spa weekend between old friends, no frills or strings attached!"

You swallowed hard, mouth still working furiously to rehydrate itself as you leveled him with a pointed glare. "You absolute bastard, using my own weaknesses against me like that," you growled without any real venom, already knowing your own resistance was crumbling like a sand castle before an oncoming tide. "Aren't you ashamed, resorting to such blatant and shamelessly manipulative bribery to get your way?"

Bokuto feigned innocence, widening his already owlish gaze and splaying one hand over his chest in a show of mock contrition that only served to stretch the soft fabric of his shirt obscenely tight across the sculpted contours of his pecs.

"Why, I haven't the faintest idea what you could be implying, kitten," he returned in that same sinfully lowered octave. "All I'm offering here is the pleasure of my charming company as we indulge in a little self-care and relaxation between two buddies."

You narrowed your eyes in a vain attempt at deflecting just how thoroughly your restraint was already crumbling into so much meager rubble. Bokuto simply watched you steadily, all quiet confidence and devastating charisma. The silence seemed to thicken perceptibly with each loaded second allowed to tick by, growing thicker and heavier until it practically condensed into something palpable blanketing the line between you.

"...fine. You utterly irredeemable gremlin," you growled at last, feigning outrage even as your pulse kicked up a notch. "I'll play along with this ludicrous little 'couples night' charade of yours. But only because the thought of finally indulging in that weekend away sounds far too enticing to pass up, you hear?"

Bokuto's expression positively radiated incandescent triumph, all sunny smiles and pleased self-satisfaction at having properly worked you around to his way of thinking. You aimed one final scathing glare at the screen, hating how even that token display of irritation only seemed to encourage the roguish curl quirking his full lips.

"You mark my words though, Bokuto Koutaro - I fully expect you to square things appropriately after I've endured whatever humiliating circus act you're undoubtedly orchestrating, understood?"

You were unable to resist adding a deeply sardonic note of emphasis to the final word, letting your gaze trail unrepentantly over his sculpted torso in a way you absolutely knew couldn't be mistaken for anything but overt admiration. To his credit, Bokuto didn't balk or flinch from the insinuation, simply lifting one shoulder in an artfully nonchalant half-shrug as he pitched his voice low once more.

"Don't you worry your gorgeous head over making me pay up with interest afterwards, gorgeous. As far as I'm concerned, having you on my arm for the night is reward enough in itself." He winked to punctuate that bold declaration, tongue darting out to subtly wet his lips in what had to be the most lascivious move in his repertoire.

You coughed harshly in an ill-concealed attempt at swallowing past the renewed surge of heated interest sluicing through your core just then. "Yeah, well at least I know what kinds of illicit activities will really hold your interest when it comes time to start squaring things." You eyed him with deliberate meaning until Bokuto started squirming under the weight of your gaze. "Should make for a decadently relaxing weekend afterwards for the both of us...don't you agree?"

His unrepentant bark of laughter assured you the double meaning was well and truly received, much to your immense shameless satisfaction.

"Alright, alright - you've played your trump card and mercilessly fleeced me, you ruthless little sexpot. We'll call it an evening for now, yeah?" The dimpled wink Bokuto favored you with made your toes curl pleasantly against the sheets. "I'll swing by to pick you up around 8 tomorrow night, since it's closer to your side of town. Sound good?"

"Works for me," you replied, aiming for a breezy nonchalance despite the warm buttery feeling currently turning your internal organs into the consistency of freshly-churned batter. "I'll start mentally preparing myself to bask in the full hot mess of awkward embarrassment you're no doubt going to be eagerly courting at this fated dinner party now."

Bokuto chuckled richly, the sound going straight to your already overheated hindbrain like a pavlovian trigger.

"And I'll start plotting out all the ways I can thoroughly woo you into forgetting whatever lingering reservations or inhibitions you've still got tucked away beneath those defenses of yours!" His signature double-pistols and a wink chaser were enough to elicit an indelicate snort of amusement despite yourself. "Trust me babe - after tomorrow night, you're gonna be falling head over heels for this old charmer in no time!"

It was an idle boast, you knew. Just the latest in a long string of harmless, mostly affectionate innuendo Bokuto loved to sprinkle between your long-running bouts of playful banter. But without consciously willing it, the barb still struck something soft and vulnerable in your core - setting off a series of shockwaves that left you feeling profoundly off-balance.

Fortunately, Bokuto followed up that loaded declaration with a jaw-cracking yawn and exaggerated stretch without seeming to notice your brief discomfiture. "Oof, look at me just flapping my gums away and keeping the both of us up past our bedtimes. Don't worry, I'll cut the theatrics for now and let you get some shut-eye, gorgeous."

You bit the inside of your cheek, simultaneously relieved and somehow a touch disappointed at him bowing out for the evening so abruptly. Some deep, twisted part of you had obviously desired to keep poking at that undefinable new tension building in the ether between you. To prod and see how far you could stretch those suddenly blurring lines before something inside you inevitably split apart.

"Have a good night, Bo," you finally settled on with a slow exhalation, offering him what you hoped came across as an easy smile. "Don't go suffering any 'crisis of conscience' cold feet between now and your little date night, you hear? I agreed to tag along with minimal fuss, so you'd better deliver on those promises afterwards too."

Bokuto's resounding laugh and million-watt smile were a soothing balm in the wake of your parting teasing remark. "Minimal fuss, she says - did you hear the absolute earful of protestation and stubborn refusals before I broke you down, you gorgeous hardass?"

You aimed an imperious look at him, which only seemed to egg him on into further impish delighting based on the way his eyes danced in fond reminiscence.

"But no worries, no worries my lovely! Your devoted Bokuto will definitely come through with flying colors tomorrow, guaranteed!" He leaned in close to the screen, the full-force effect of that smoldering golden stare almost palpable even from such a distance. "Sweet dreams, kitten. I'll be seeing you in the flesh again soon, and don't you worry - I'll definitely be making good on those promises of mine to thoroughly sweep you off your feet and then some."

He'd barely finished the sentence before you were ending the call with an impatient huff and a roll of your eyes. Your heart was pounding a furious tattoo against the cage of your ribs, blood singing with adrenaline and anticipation as you stared blindly up at the ceiling and tried to parse exactly what the hell you'd gotten yourself into this time.

"Fuck me," you finally managed to choke out, burying your face in your hands and releasing a muffled scream of exasperation and sheer disbelief.

It was bad enough, agreeing to go along with his wild schemes. But having the audacity to imply you would somehow emerge from this little escapade...changed? That was where the line had finally been drawn in the sand.

Still, a small, traitorous corner of your mind couldn't help but entertain the notion, wondering just what sorts of shenanigans a little dose of fresh perspective and genuine, open vulnerability might bring out in your long-time friendship with the most endearingly frustrating person in your life.

You rolled onto your side with a huff, willing the intrusive thoughts to quiet down so you could try and get a decent night's rest for the evening. Still, something small and insidious lingered, sending a shiver racing down the length of your spine and a soft sigh gusting from your lips as you closed your eyes and drifted off into a fitful sleep.

Tomorrow was bound to be a very interesting night.

The jarring crash of splintering wood and shattering glass sent you bolt upright in bed, heart pounding a staccato rhythm against your ribcage. Disoriented eyes swept the shadowed confines of your bedroom, struggling to make sense of the sudden cacophony echoing down the hall.

A dull thud and muffled cursing offered the first clues, quickly followed by the unmistakable stomping gait of oversized feet rapidly approaching. You barely had time to fully register the situation before your door exploded inward with enough force to rip it clear off its hinges.

"Up and at 'em, sleeping beauty!" Bokuto bellowed from the doorway, chest heaving beneath his snug t-shirt like he'd just run a marathon. Predictably, he didn't even pause to take in your deer-in-headlights expression before barreling straight for the bed in a flurry of limbs.

The sheer velocity of his leap carried Bokuto sailing completely over the mattress in an impressive foot-to-foot broad jump. You watched with horrified fascination as he seemed to hang suspended above you for one ludicrous, protracted moment - hair wild, eyes sparkling with unconstrained glee. Then his considerable mass reconnected with the center of your bed in an earthshaking crash, springs and frame groaning in abject protest.

The resulting shockwave instantly transformed your bedding into a veritable tsunami of linen chop. One heartbeat you were cocooned in the drowsy warmth of your comforter, blinking up at Bokuto's maniacal grin in bewildered silence. The next, you were freefalling gracelessly off the far side of the mattress as an entire continent's worth of bedding detonated across the room in a feathery maelstrom.

"Mmmffrrbphh?" Your muffled, dazed noise of confusion wafted up from the crumpled tangle of sheets you'd somehow become hopelessly ensared within. Bokuto simply cackled gleefully at the sight, utterly unbothered by the carnage he'd just wrought on your formerly peaceful sleeping sanctuary.

"C'mon, c'mon - time to rise and shine, princess!" he crowed in that boisterous drill-sergeant voice of his. "We've got a loooong day of pampering and preparing ahead of us before tonight's main event, you know!"

You finally managed to wrestle the top sheet away from where it had cinched around your head like a thick woolen gag, hair thoroughly mussed and cheeks ruddy from your impromptu bout of exertion so early in the morning.

"What in the fresh hell are you-" you broke off with a jaw-cracking yawn, scrubbing knuckles against your aching eyelids as you slowly regained your bearings. "Wait...tonight's main event?"

Bokuto snorted a laugh, folding those ridiculously long legs into a pretzel on your mangled mattress without a care in the world. "Don't tell me your brain's already forgotten all about the momentous commitment I secured from you just last night? This is zero hour for Operation Woo the...uh...wait, what was that ridiculous name I decided on again?"

You pinched the bridge of your nose to stave off the sudden migraine blooming between your temples. "Bokuto, I swear to every deity in existence - if you broke into my house at the asscrack of dawn just to enact another one of your depraved little rom-com scenarios, I'm going to strangle you with my bare hands before we even leave this bedroom."

At your venomous mumbling, Bokuto's expression morphed into an exaggerated look of wounded innocence that might have been comical...if he wasn't already beginning to paw through the giant duffel bag lying at his feet. You watched through slitted eyes as garment bags, jewelry boxes, and all manners of beauty products began spilling out in an unceremonious pile onto your exposed lap.

"What...is all this?" you grumbled, snatching up a particularly suspicious-looking lace and satin bundle with mild trepidation.

"This, my dear, is our ticket to nailing down a completely irrefutable and mouth-wateringly believable performance tonight!" Bokuto punctuated the statement with deep, dramatic flair, setting aside a glistening Louboutin heel with enviable reverence. "After our little pre-game chit chat last night, it became clear to me that simply relying on your natural goddess-like looks wouldn't be enough to properly sell us as a hot-and-heavy lovebird couple to the team."

You eyed him dubiously even as another negligee tumbled haphazardly into your lap, rich silks pooling in glossy rivulets like captured moonbeams. "Yeahhh, because dressing me up like an extra from an extremely upscale escort service promotional shoot is clearly the most discreet strategy..."

Bokuto aimed a pointed look your way, eyebrow quirking ever so slightly. "Would you just trust me for like, five whole minutes here, babe? If I'm gonna parade my ultra-sexy girlfriend around tonight, I need to ensure she's dressed to truly bring the house down, you know?"

Despite yourself, you felt a reluctant warmth beginning to bloom in your chest at the genuine eagerness radiating off him in waves. It was so endearingly, quintessentially Bokuto - leaping headlong into even the most ridiculous of situations with absolutely zero doubts or hesitation once he'd committed himself. Just the same earnest enthusiasm and unrestrained passion that had first endeared him to you as semi-feral children, and which continued fueling your bond as friends to this day.

Still, you refused to make things easy on your chaotic best friend. Heaving an overly dramatic sigh, you allowed all the lingerie to spill from your lap in a glossy avalanche before pinning him with a pointed look.

"Fine, you tireless menace," you groused with a weary shake of your head. "I suppose I have no choice but to entrust the inevitable humiliation of my self-respect to your clearly questionable tastes tonight. Just don't expect me to go silently if we get mistaken for high-end prostitutes at this stupid dinner and I snap someone's arm off in my fury..."

The blinding grin Bokuto flashed you was radiant enough to scald retinas at twenty paces. "Oh man, this night is gonna be better than I ever dreamed! Just you wait, babe - I'm gonna have all those disbelieving losers tripping over their own dicks trying to figure out how someone like me could possibly score someone as gorgeous as you." His gaze abruptly turned heated and playful, devouring you in a way that sent tingles rippling across your skin in warning. "And that's before we even break out the sexy evening wear I picked up for the real pièce de reconnaissance or whatever!"

You fought not to squirm under the molten appraisal sizzling through his eyes. How was it that Bokuto could so effortlessly elicit that restless, fluttering sensation in the pit of your stomach with nothing more than a few words and smoldering looks these days? You'd always prided yourself on not being the kind of foolish, simpering girl who got hot and bothered by a pretty face and charming tongue alone.

With an indelicate snort, you reached across the scattered refuse to thwack him sharply in the shoulder, startling a laugh from the raucous bird himself.

"Eyes off the goods there, Bo...at least until tonight's so-called 'main event' gets underway." Despite your best efforts at maintaining an appropriately chiding frown, your lips twitched dangerously in a suppressed grin. "Because if you think I'm gonna let you get away with upstaging the entire production after all this unforgivable racket you've brought to my poor morning routine..."

"Rest assured, the unassailable Queen of Ice shall be granted her day upon the throne for all to kneel and grovel before!" Bokuto declared with a flourish, puffing out his broad chest in silly pomp as he pressed one hand over the steady thrum of his heartbeat. "Why, I swear upon mine own honor as a devoted - if tragically misunderstood - leading man that tonight shall be a night of pure enchantment to remember! One that we shall..." He paused, gaze growing suddenly soft and honeyed around the edges as it swept across your features, "...one that we shall remember for all our days, my love."

You swallowed convulsively at the intensity behind those words, suddenly robbed of any pithy retort or defenses against the riptide of emotion swelling up between you in that crystalline moment. Everything seemed to recede into a kind of molten, surreal detachment as Bokuto's sculpted features impossibly blurred and sharpened into searing clarity all at once.

Then you were both inhaling sharply, the charged bubble fragmenting apart as Bokuto launched a throw pillow directly into your nose with a muffled 'whoomph'.

"But first thing's first - a morning round of Rocky Road for the soon-to-be leading lady tonight!" he crowed with deafening enthusiasm. "No way my girl's going to war looking like a molted barn owl straight off the rack, am I right?"

And just like that, the spell of palpable tension weighting the atmosphere between you dissipated into the same lighthearted ribbing and raucous antics that had defined your friendship for so long now. You huffed out an exasperated laugh at Bokuto's antics, already bunching up the skirts of your nightdress with every intention of flinging it back in his smug face.

Tonight's theatrics could wait a little longer, you supposed. For now, there was still time for one final lighthearted sparring match before the curtain rose on whatever fresh madness your human hurricane had planned.

"Come onnnn, just put it on for a quick second!" Bokuto whined from his sprawled position across your bed. "I wanna see how the full ensemble looks all put together!"

You shot him an exasperated look over your shoulder as you carefully lined your eyes in front of the vanity mirror. "For the hundredth time, Bo - no. I'm not going full glam until right before we have to actually leave."

He groaned loudly, throwing his arm over his eyes in a dramatic display. "But babe, that's like two whole hours from now! How am I supposed to bask in the vision of loveliness that is my beautiful date if you insist on keeping yourself all covered up?"

"By exercising a little thing called patience?" you fired back dryly. "Maybe lookup some techniques for it between obsessively pestering me every five minutes."

"Ugh, you're so mean to me," Bokuto pouted, peeking at you from beneath the crook of his elbow. "Withholding your breathtaking beauty behind those drab sweats...it's like torturing a man stuck in the desert without any water!"

You snorted at the melodrama, carefully applying another layer of mascara. "Keep laying it on that thick and I may have to take those designer dresses back for a refund. I don't need you staining them with all your pathetic drooling later."

"You couldn't get a refund if you tried," he shot back smugly. "I made sure to have them all permanently altered and tailored to your measurements for the full wow-factor."

You paused, makeup brush hovering as you turned to pin him with an incredulous look. "You're joking."

Bokuto simply grinned, all bravado and mischievous charm. "Does this incredibly handsome face look like it's joking right now?"

Groaning, you shook your head and went back to your makeup, muttering under your breath. "I swear, between the fancy clothes and all the custom tailoring, you must've dropped like ten grand on this whole act alone."

"Well, what can I say?" His tone took on that silky, smug quality that always made you want to smack him. "When I go all out for my gorgeous girl, I don't do anything half-assed."

You rolled your eyes so hard it was almost painful. "I'm not your girl, Bokuto. This is all an elaborate act, remember?"

His responding pout was audible. "Why do you have to go and harsh my vibe like that, babe? Can't you just let a guy get into character for one night of delicious, scintillating roleplay with his dream partner?"

"By deluding yourself into somehow making this real?" you countered, finally feeling satisfied enough with your makeup to start getting dressed. "I think the only delusion happening here is in that perpetually thirsty mind of yours, pal."

"Mmm, you know just what to say to get a fella all riled up," Bokuto rumbled, the bed creaking as he shifted around behind you. "Promise me one thing - you gotta let me see the full shebang at least thirty minutes before we have to be out that door. Give a guy a little time to pick his jaw up off the floor and reassemble his composure..."

You bit your lip against a grin as you shimmied out of your sweatpants, very aware of the weight of his eyes tracking your movements now. "We'll see how convincing you are at playing the part later. For now, just sit tight and try to control yourself until I put the whole look together, okay?"

His wounded groan made you chuckle softly to yourself. Slipping into your robe, you turned to catch Bokuto propped up on one elbow, eyes already gleaming with familiar exaggerated pleading.

"You're lucky I already vowed to be on my best behavior tonight," he muttered, gaze roaming frankly over your silk-wrapped frame. "Otherwise I might've had to take drastic measures to see that beautiful body out in the open well before our scheduled curtain call..."

You threw a decorative pillow at his face without hesitation, fighting a losing battle against your smile. "Down boy! Save all that simmering tension for when the cameras are rolling - I'm pretty sure your idiot teammates will smell even a whiff of real steam and instantly know I'm not your actual love interest."

"Oh ye of little faith," Bokuto tsked with a wink. "By the time I work my irresistible magic on you tonight, those clueless dingbats won't know whether I'm just an incredibly committed method actor or if they've actually glimpsed the face of true love incarnate. You'll see..."

The sheer overconfidence in his tone was enough to set you laughing all over again as you grabbed your dress ensemble and headed for the bathroom to change. "Keep telling yourself that, Casanova. I'm still holding you personally responsible when this all inevitably blows up in our faces!"

His responding whoop of protest was drowned out by the click of the door shutting between you. Surrounded by the quiet of your bathroom, you allowed yourself a small moment just to take a few centering breaths, garment bags pooling at your feet.

Despite all the teasing back-and-forth... despite your very rational, very loud internal voice screaming about how insane this entire farce was...you couldn't quite ignore the steadily growing bubble of warmth and giddy excitement slowly inflating in your chest.

Bokuto's particular brand of irreverent, untempered enthusiasm had always been nothing short of infectious to you. And after the sheer excess of thought and funds he'd poured into making tonight as lavish and extravagant as possible for your benefit?

Well, you supposed you could find it in yourself to get a little overinvested in selling the real-life romantic fantasy too. At least for one night of shameless indulgence between you and your best friend.

With that firmly in mind, you finally allowed the dress bags to slip open and spill their contents across your waiting arms.

"You've got to be kidding me..." The hushed utterance barely contained the appropriate degree of reverent awe as Bokuto took you in from across the room. "I mean, I knew you were gonna be a knockout when I saw the full look in person. But holy smokes, babe...you're on an entirely different level from anyone else on this whole damn planet!"

You felt your cheeks heat despite yourself at the sincere appreciation brimming in his voice. Studiously avoiding his molten gaze, you twisted to examine your reflection more critically in the floor-length mirror.

The oxblood evening gown skimmed over your curves in an elegant swath of liquid silk that shimmered and flowed like a living entity with each minute shift. The neckline plunged just enough to tease without being outright salacious while the daring thigh-high slit allowed tantalizing glimpses of skin to wink at admirers as you moved. Overall, the deep crimson shade provided an aesthetically striking contrast against your complexion, practically smoldering in an effortless display of confidence and refined beauty.

"It is a pretty swoon-worthy look, I'll give you that much," you allowed with a small smile as you tried to slip into the towering rhinestone-studded heels to complete the overall effect.

You could feel the weight of Bokuto's gaze like a physical brand everywhere it raked across your body. An indecent part of you thrilled at the rapt, appreciative way he seemed to drink in every exposed inch of skin - unconsciously leaning forward like a man entranced.

"Forget swoon-worthy," he husked after a protracted beat, voice dropping an entire octave deeper in a way that zipped electric tingles down your spine. "That look is straight up...no, wait. This requires more creative adjectives than my poor tongue can properly supply justice to in the moment."

With that vague declaration, Bokuto simply launched himself off the bed and pad-thumped his way over to you in a few loping strides. You opened your mouth to offer some sardonic rebuttal, only to choke on your words entirely as he effortlessly sank to one knee at your feet, broad shoulders level with your waistline.

Smoldering galaxies of molten amber stared up at you from beneath a messy fringe of slate and silver, flickering with a tantalizing heat that made your mouth go abruptly dry.

"What...are you doing?" The question rasped out weakly, all the smooth bravado sapped from your tone.

Bokuto didn't answer verbally - he simply reached out and ever-so-gently clasped your ankle, thumb settling into the hollow just below with exquisite tenderness as his gaze continued searing a path up the length of your body. By the time your eyes reconnected, there was an electric charge crackling in the humid air between you, whipping every molecule of oxygen into a volatile brew.

"Let me, please," he finally breathed, the entreaty so hushed and heavy it landed squarely in your core like a physical blow. "Just...just let me have this one moment to drink you in before I have to share this unreal vision with the rest of the world, okay?"

Your tongue felt thick and clumsy against your palate when you tried to formulate a response. Heat blossomed across the bridge of your nose and high planes of your cheekbones as those long, deft fingers performed exquisite tortures along the sensitive regions of your ankles and calves. Bokuto's smoldering stare remained trained on yours all the while, glittering through his lashes like shards of black ice and molten gold swirled together in a cosmic tempest...

"Uh...y-yeah. Yes, okay..." You finally tore your gaze away with concentrated effort, fighting the sudden tightness coiling in your belly at the naked adoration splashed across your best friend's features. "Just...don't go getting too many wild ideas about taking this role-playing thing past its acceptable limits."

Bokuto's responding chuckle was a low, throaty rumble that seemed vibrate against the bare skin of your legs in a most precarious way. "Rest assured, my love...what's happening between us in this moment is no mere act or play for show."

Your head whipped around so fast your upswept hair bounced and thrashed with the force. Bokuto's angular features had been wiped carefully blank into an expressionless mask, though his eyes still simmered with a naked heat that bordered on reverence.

Before you could recover enough to properly call him on the seemingly innocent comment loaded with ambiguity, he drew in a long, shuddering inhale through his nose. Squeezed your calf just firm enough to betray the intensity of the moment weighing upon him.

Then, seeming to shake off the unsettling weight of his own mood, he aimed that signature boyish grin up at you and bounced agilely back to his feet with new lightness.

"But enough seriousness for the time being, am I right?" His eyes crinkled at the corners with sincere mirth. "Tonight's meant to be a celebration for us both - one that I intend to kick off with an absolute bang once we hit the streets and show off this impossible union for all the world to behold!"

Despite the lingering maelstrom of emotions still settling over you like an intangible haze, you couldn't quite stifle the breathless giggle that bubbled up in response to his renewed exuberance. Unable to resist one final joshing remark.

"So what you're saying is, this is officially the moment where my descent into unwitting arm candy status goes completely off the rails?" you teased lightly. "I should savor these last shreds of dignity before you strip them away entirely with your usual hurricane of chaos, right?"

Bokuto's responding cackle of delight was deep and infectious, swiftly dragging you fully free of the heated thrall you'd both temporarily spun into just moments ago. He swept a low, gallant bow worthy of Shakespearean theater, extending one arm in an exaggerated beckoning flourish towards the door.

"My dear lady, would that I could promise your pride and reserve will remain fully intact throughout our festivities!" He deepened his voice into a ridiculously affected baritone dripping with mock gravitas. "But I fear yours truly must admit to harboring...ulterior motives for tonight's escapades that may strip you bare of all remaining propriety and discretion by the final curtain!"

You were already giggling helplessly at his theatrics, one hand pressed over your abdomen as peals of laughter tumbled freely forth. Bokuto took the opportunity to stride forward and link your free arm through the crook of his elbow, guiding you with exaggerated courtliness towards the door and whatever jubilant mayhem beyond awaited your arrival.

"C'mon, milady," he murmured against your temple, the graveled tenor of his voice sending shivers coursing across your skin. "Let's blow the roof off this joint, just the two of us taking the world by storm. What d'ya say?"

Your answering grin, wide and radiant with all the boundless eagerness of pure, unfettered joy, was all the response either of you needed. Tonight was yours for the taking, for better or worse.

And as your fingertips burrowed into the solid expanse of muscle cording Bokuto's bicep more snugly, winding him just a smidge tighter against your side...you found yourself struck by the sudden, heady certainty that neither of you had any intention of doing this night by halves.

The sleek car idled curbside, tinted privacy windows shielding you from the curious glances of passersby as you leaned towards the mirror. Dabbing one final layer of glossy crimson across your lips, you pursed them experimentally before nodding in satisfaction.

"Okay, I think that's as good as it's gonna get," you announced, snapping your compact closed with a definitive click. "Unless you want me adding another coat of…"

Your teasing words trailed off as you finally glanced over at Bokuto...only to find him openly staring at you with an expression of such open, naked wonderment that your breath caught in your throat.

He was leaned back into the plush leather seat, one forearm looped casually across the empty space as he watched you with rapt, childlike adoration crinkling the corners of those expressive eyes. There was no heat or suggestion in his features, just an almost painfully earnest awe that reminded you so viscerally of the way he used to idolize you as snotty, scrappy children playing in the park across from your building.

For one suspended heartbeat, Bokuto looked less like the wildly successful pro athlete about to put on a staged performance for his team...and more like that wiry, silver-haired whirlwind of endless enthusiasm and boundless adoration that he had been all those years ago.

"Hello? Earth to Kou?" you prodded after clearing your throat roughly. "You still with me over there or did I accidentally hypnotize you into some sort of trance with my goddess-like glow?"

Bokuto blinked rapidly, the moment shattering apart like delicate spun-glass at the wry prompting of your voice. He shook his head sharply, silken strands of silver and black dancing across his brow as his expression cycled through a dizzying range of micro-emotions before settling on sheepish chagrin.

"Sorry, sorry!" One calloused palm rasped across the chiseled cut of his jawline, thumb smoothing over the plush swell of his lips. The small, compulsive adjustment only served to draw your gaze helplessly down to drink in the soft give of that lush mouth yet again before snapping your attention back up. "I didn't mean to get all weird and spacey on you like that. You just..."

He paused, adam's apple bobbing convulsively as he visibly struggled to collect his thoughts into some semblance of coherency. You arched one brow expectantly, tamping down on the sudden fluttering unease blossoming beneath your breastbone.

"I just what, Koutaro?" Aiming for casual nonchalance was more of a struggle than anticipated with the heated weight of his smoldering appraisal prickling along your sensitized skin once more.

"You just...look really, really pretty tonight." Bokuto bit down on that full lower lip briefly, as if physically shackling the rest of whatever thought wanted to tumble forth next. His lashes dipped for a single slow blink before those liquid mercury eyes refocused on yours with renewed intensity. "Like, inhumanly gorgeous to the point that I genuinely worried for a split second about bursting into flames levels of pretty."

Your mouth curved into an amused moue despite your best efforts at preserving neutrality. Leave it to Bokuto to somehow ricochet between flustered sincerity and casual wisecracking with such effortless smoothness.

"Thanks, I think?" You aimed for a playful roll of your eyes, though the heat blooming across the bridge of your nose hinted at the lingering effects of his unvarnished compliment. "Glad to know my efforts at achieving 'ethereal siren' levels of beauty paid off enough to stun even a chaos prodigy like you into temporary speechlessness."

Bokuto huffed out a quiet chuckle, shoulders relaxing incrementally back into that sinuous sprawl against the seat. "It's not an act or exaggerated flattery, babe. You really do take my breath away looking like...well, like anything."

Another long, weighted pause as his eyes roved over the elegant lines of your body hungrily - a physical caress you felt all the way down to your core.

"Makes it a lot easier to sell the whole 'deliriously smitten leading man' act I've gotta put on tonight, that's for damn sure."

You hummed noncommittally, fingers toying with the ornate pendant nestled between your breasts as a welcome distraction from the steadily spiraling tension in the air between you both. Eventually you found enough equilibrium to shake off the tangible charge and pivot towards a more practical line of questioning.

"Speaking of selling this act..." You cast a sidelong glance at Bokuto, noting the way his posture imperceptibly tightened like a coiled strand of tensile steel cable. "We should probably get our story straight on a few key details before waltzing into the lion's den, don't you think?"

Bokuto regarded you steadily for a heartbeat before seeming to cotton to your pragmatic line of thought. He rapped the knuckle of his index finger lightly against his temple twice, inclining his head in a silent request for you to continue unpacking those thoughts.

"Well obviously your boneheaded teammates aren't going to resist the urge to start grilling us over the standard dating trivia the moment we make our entrance." You ticked off on your fingers as you continued. "Things like how we met up initially after losing touch for so long. Who finally caved and shot their shot to kickstart the romance between us. How long we've been keeping our relationship under wraps and why. That kind of gritty, embarrassingly intimate stuff that idiotic meatheads always zero right in on when they think they've sniffed out a chance for invasive gossip, y'know?"

You paused to regard Bokuto expectantly, only to find his expression had rapidly collapsed from genuine interest into a veritable deer-in-headlights mask of panic. His eyes had blown wide enough to dominate the entirety of his features, knuckles whitening around the plush grip of the door handle beside him.

"Oh fuuuuuuuuuuck..." The grated moan dragged itself past his suddenly bloodless lips like the pained death rattle of a newly birthed black hole swallowing him whole. "I didn't...oh my god, I'm such a colossal idiot! How did I not even stop to think about basic background and story logistics like that before charging in ass-first?"

Well, that certainly wasn't the response you had anticipated from your customarily unflappable partner in chaos. You stared at Bokuto in mounting disbelief as he visibly descended into a whirlwind shame spiral before your very eyes.

"Shit, no - this whole thing is going to unravel into a total trainwreck before we even make it through the door now!" His voice steadily escalated towards hysterical yodeling, free hand tugging mercilessly at platinum streaked strands. "Those vultures are going to sniff out the first hint of discrepancy in our cover story and proceed to rip me a massively gaping asshole sideways for the next decade at minimum! Oh god, why didn't I have you help me hammer out some plausible backstory details ahead of time? Why am I such an inconsistent, scatterbrained himbo with the planning skills of a lobotomized lemur at all times?!"

At that, you could no longer bite back the peals of laughter bubbling up from your chest. Bokuto froze mid-tirade to goggle at you, clearly shellshocked by the mirth rippling across his companion. Wiping away the first few tears pearling at the corners of your eyes, you finally managed to draw a full breath and calm yourself enough to speak clearly once more.

"Honestly, I don't know why I expected anything less from you in a crisis situation like this," you chuckled with a bemused shake of your head. "You'd have ended up spontaneously combusting from all the convoluted storytelling lies you tried weaving by yourself guaranteed."

Bokuto opened his mouth, no doubt to defend his honor, when you smoothly reached out and grasped him by both whiskered cheeks. His plush lips puckered adorably in your squishing hold, eyes going owlishly perplexed as the scathing commentary seemed to momentarily die on his tongue.

"You daft, ridiculous man-owl," you crooned fondly, drinking in the boyish features you knew better than your own reflection at this point. "Why else did you think I bothered bringing up hammering out backstory logistics in the first place, hm? Did you really think I'd allow us to blunder into this big scene without having some plausible fallback cover story all teed up on my end?"

Realization dawned in Bokuto's widening gaze even as you allowed your grip on his cheeks to relax fractionally, smoothing those plumped swell of his lips out beneath your touch.

"That's right, my adorably fretful barnowl," you practically purred, unable to resist skimming the calloused pad of your thumb across that lush mouth in a tantalizing graze. "Your ever vigilant partner in crime has us fully covered here too. Just leave the talking to me this time around, yeah?"

You punctuated the reassurance with a conspiratorial wink that had Bokuto's posture relaxing back into the decadent sprawl he seemed to favor instinctively. There was an evenness and unhurried certainty creeping back into his bearing as well - the sort of quietly determined and centered confidence that had underscored even the wildest, most over-the-top productions you two had dreamed up back in your teen heydays.

"As per usual then?" he husked finally, tongue darting out to wet those lips you'd just caressed in an unconsciously sensual motion that caused every fiber of your being to suddenly throb with heated awareness. His features had cycled back through that delicious transformation from hangdog uncertainty to assured incandescence before your very eyes - the alpha-owl persona you knew and adored so unreservedly slotting smoothly back into the driver's seat once more. "You hold the reins while I'm left to follow your indomitable lead into whatever madness awaits, gorgeous? Just the pair of eternal partners kicking up fresh chaos in harmony as we've done since we were kids?"

You echoed his slow, delicious grin with one of your own - equally indulgent yet underscored by that same current of feral, unignorable heat simmering between you. This was familiar territory, comforting in its inherent unpredictability...yet charged with undeniable electricity neither of you had ever dared name or fully give voice to up until now.

"Something like that," you husked back, voice already taking on a husky, heady alto you barely recognized as belonging to your own throat. "So what do you say, oh esteemed leading man?"

You didn't wait for his breathless nod of acquiescence before surging forward in that same, emboldened motion. The hand already cupping the stubbled definition of Bokuto's jaw slid upwards to frame his enviably sharp cheekbones, thumb grazing the razor-cut hollow just beneath with smoldering intent. Your lips hovered a sliver's breadth from searing themselves against the corner of his own in a filthy brand - close enough to share each scorching exhalation in one heated tangle.

"Shall we go remind that ingrate squad of judgmental jackals just what kind of unrestrained havoc a force of nature like us is capable of conjuring?" you practically growled, holding his blown-wide stare captive even as the energy crackling between your mingling breaths thickened to intoxicating degrees. "And give them all a little...private show we know they've been utterly dying to catch a tantalizing glimpse of behind closed doors for months now?"

A heartbeat ticked by with agonizing slowness as Bokuto simply stared at you slack-jawed, throat clicking in a convulsive swallow. One, two shuddering blinks later, and his jaw clenched with resolve as a guttural rumble tore itself loose from his chest.

"On your lead, partner...let's give these chucklehead civilians the night of their goddamn lives."

His wolfish smile, pure smoldering sin and white-hot charisma, was your only warning before he surged across the scant space separating you. You inhaled sharply at the sudden weight of his mouth blazing a trail of liquid fire along your jaw and throat - lush and seeking in a way that nearly had you whiting out from the searing onslaught of sensation.

No, there would be no holding back this time. No restraints or filters imposed as you two utterly annihilated every last barrier in your path. Not tonight.

Tonight was for raw, visceral consumption in its most primal sense. And you were both starving.

The low hum of conversation and soft music greeted you as the maître d' ushered you through the elegant double doors into the main dining room. Bokuto's broad palm pressed reassuringly against the small of your back, guiding you forward with an effortless confidence that paradoxically helped settle your nerves.

Despite all the risqué teasing and charged tension in the car, there was still something incredibly grounding about his solid presence at your side as you took in the opulent surroundings. This was your oldest friend in the world after all - the one person you'd always been able to rely on through every wild antic and scheme, no matter how outlandish.

"There they are," he murmured against your temple, the rumbling timbre of his voice stirring tingles across your skin. You followed his subtle nod towards a partially secluded booth near the back where three figures sat sprawled amid the tasteful low lighting.

Even from this distance, it was impossible to miss the unmistakable crown of fiery red locks belonging to Hinata Shoyo. He was turned in profile, but the animated way his hands gestured as he spoke marked him like a human exclamation point amid the group.

At his side sat the impressive bulk and perpetual furrow of Sakusa Kiyoomi, arms folded across his broad chest as he watched Hinata with ill-disguised bemusement. And lounging opposite them both with an ease borne from sheer confidence and charisma...

"Well I'll be damned," Atsumu Miya drawled as he caught sight of you both across the dining room. "The mighty Kou-kun actually did manage to snag himself a real life girlfriend after all this time!"

You felt Bokuto tense fractionally at your side, thumb rubbing an absent circle against the exposed skin of your back before he huffed out a soft snort. When he spoke, though, his tone was light and warm in a way that made your heart swell unexpectedly.

"Don't look so surprised there, Tsumu," he chuckled, guiding you both closer to the booth until you stood directly beside the table. A disarming grin split his handsome features, radiating the sort of sunny charm that made your breath catch each time unexpectedly. "Were you really doubting my unbeatable charm for so long, buddy? That's just cold."

Atsumu was quick to return the teasing jibe, leaning back with a dramatic roll of his eyes and smirk curling one side of his mouth. "Well can ya really blame a guy for keepin' his expectations low when it comes to your romantic prowess, Kou-kun? Yer not exactly batting a thousand when it comes to putting the moves on people, if ya know what I mean."

Despite yourself, you couldn't help the small laugh that bubbled free at the exaggerated tete-a-tete clearly being indulged between old friends and teammates. Hinata was quick to pick up on the shift, immediately swiveling in his seat to face you both with sparkling interest.

"Whoa, Atsumu! Is this the girlfriend Bokuto was telling u-" His warm brown eyes raked over you assessingly before widening in clear awestruck surprise. "Oh my gosh, you're-! I mean, I didn't realize you and Bokuto-san were actually, you know, dating and everything!"

You arched a single brow at that in silent query, though inside you felt a small swell of flattery blooming unexpectedly. It seemed Bokuto was quite the notorious gossip to his teammates when it came to the epic saga of your relationship, regardless of how frequently skewed facts were indulged upon.

To his credit, Bokuto looked the very picture of perfectly charmed embarrassment when he ducked his head, shooting you a sheepish sidelong look from beneath tousled silvery lashes. The tips of his ears had begun to redden ever so slightly in a rather endearingly boyish tell, one you'd seen countless times over the years.

"Well, I'll admit I may have waxed a bit poetic in singing my partner's endless virtues over the years," he murmured, carefully avoiding your teasing scrutiny as he addressed the others. You didn't miss the almost imperceptible tightening of his palm against your lower back at the gentle ribbing, though - nor the way it somehow managed to steady and center you despite the fleeting rush of nerves spiking through your system.

"But in my defense, how could any mere mortal hope to properly capture the full essence of such an ethereal, untouchable vision in mere words alone, gentlemen?" The crooked grin Bokuto flashed next set your pulse to skittering in a dangerous pattern, every fiber of attention narrowing to the way his thumb resumed those absent caresses against your spine. "Isn't that right, my radiant guiding star?"

You huffed out a soft breath at the unexpected endearment, equal parts charmed and exasperated despite yourself. Of course he would be utterly incorrigible about playing the devoted, overly effusive paramour to the hilt already.

"First of all, you don't get to melt me into a puddle with all your overwrought poetry that easily, Casanova," you fired back in a mild tone, though you made no move to step away from his side or dislodge the hand pressed so tenderly to the curve of your waist. "I happen to distinctly recall swearing off letting you ruin my makeup before we even got properly seated tonight."

Atsumu's bark of delighted laughter cut through the charged moment, startling you out of the impromptu staring contest you'd found yourself locked in with Bokuto's heated gaze. The blonde setter leaned forward eagerly, elbows resting atop the pristine linens as he grinned between you in open amusement.

"Aw damn, I like her already!" he chuckled, grey eyes sparkling with impish mischief. "Anyone who can verbally run circles 'round ol' Kou-kun that smoothly while still lettin' him slobber all over them with that ol' Casanova charm routine is a total winner in my book."

The tips of your ears warmed at the transparent, if playful, insinuation behind his words...though you couldn't quite hide the pleased tilt your lips took in response either. It seemed Bokuto's teammates were already wholeheartedly adopting you as part of their eccentric inner circle, and your confidence was quickly being bolstered by the unexpected warmth and levity being fostered around the table.

"She really is a regular gem though, isn't she?" Hinata chimed in brightly when the laughter tapered off. He leaned across Sakusa's impressive bulk with earnest eyes locked on you, one small hand extended in greeting. "We haven't gotten the chance to be properly acquainted yet, but Bokuto never stops talking about you! I'm Hinata Shoyo - it's so awesome to finally meet you in person!"

You clasped the proffered hand in a firm shake, unable to resist the infectious sincerity radiating off the diminutive redhead in waves. "It's wonderful to meet you as well, Hinata. Though I have to admit, I already feel like I know each of you gentlemen rather intimately after all the tales and boasting Bokuto has subjected me to over the years."

At that, you slid him a sly sidelong glance, lips curving into a soft teasing smile that seemed to stop Bokuto's breath in his throat - if the almost imperceptible tightening of his grip against you was any indication. "I'm afraid he truly has exceeded every acceptable boundary when it comes to gushing about his friends in excruciating detail."

To his credit, Bokuto didn't balk or try to deflect the gentle jab, simply basking in your approving look with open affection crinkling the corners of his eyes and mouth. Hinata straightened up with an impish grin, clearly picking up on the unspoken dynamic playing out so intimately between you.

"Well hey, if he runs his mouth off constantly singing your praises, I think that just means we were all secretly kind of hoping you two lovebirds would finally make things official eventually, right?" Another disarmingly sunny beam flashed in your direction, setting your pulse to tripping in earnest now. The implicit familiarity and warmth with which Hinata already folded you into their motley little group was both blindsiding and intensely heartwarming in equal measure. "I mean, Bokuto-san’s been carrying a crazy obvious torch for you since forever ago, from the way he never shut up about you!"

A flush crept up Bokuto's neck at that perfectly innocent disclosure, mouth twitching in a suppressed grimace of embarrassment. You couldn't resist darting a sly, utterly unsubtle look of silent query in his direction. He purposefully avoided your searching gaze, shoulders hunching almost imperceptibly as if preparing for the worst.

Just like that, the teasing banter around the table shifted from playful jocularity to something infinitely more loaded - weighted with an undeniable new gravity that had Atsumu and Hinata's grins faltering slightly. Even Sakusa's formidable mask of indifference slipped fractionally, one elegant brow lifting beneath the fall of inky curls obscuring his pale visage.

A thick, rapidly solidifying quiet descended over the group before you finally managed to rally, forcing a breezy chuckle from somewhere deep in your chest. The sound seemed to shatter the moment's strange tension back into something altogether warmer and more recognizable to you all.

"Well then, I apologize in advance for disappointing the lot of you on that particular front," you offered with an easy smile aimed first at Hinata, then around the table. You capped the quip off by leaning your weight subtly into Bokuto's solid frame, earning a sharp intake of breath from your partner as his stare locked onto yours again. "But I can promise the long, arduous waits and unspoken pining ends tonight for our dear Bokuto. We're both far too emotionally evolved and secure in our commitment to keep dancing around the obvious any longer, isn't that right darling?"

The endearment dripped off your tongue with smooth, sugared sincerity despite the open wink you aimed Bokuto's way. To his immense credit though, he rallied admirably - entire demeanor shifting back towards his usual unflappable swagger and roguish charm as he slid an arm securely around your waist.

"You heard the woman, boys. No more need to keep up this weary facade of us being anything other than the deliriously smitten item we truly are," he rumbled, lips curving into that lopsided smirk that did utterly unreasonable things to your pulse point. He dipped his head fractionally until you could feel the silken caress of his hair whispering against your cheek, mouth a scant breath from your own as he murmured softly. "Isn't that right...my heavenly flame?"

You held his heated stare levelly, throat clicking in a steadying swallow before arching one brow in silent invitation. An inviting curve graced your lips at the brief flicker of something ferociously intent that flared across Bokuto's expression before he turned his focus back on the others with a disarmingly sunny grin.

The comfortable cadences of conversation resumed around you in that moment, though you remained hyper-aware of the solid weight of Bokuto's palm spanning your hip. Of the occasional gusts of his warm breath stirring gossamer tendrils against your cheek and throat each time he leaned in to punctuate a story or witty retort to the ongoing banter.

Just as you had predicted, you realized with a sense of burgeoning satisfaction. The two of you seemed to have thoroughly and irrevocably secured your roles in this little dramatic facade.

Though judging by Bokuto's occasional sidelong glances and poorly concealed looks of open adoration directed your way when he thought you weren't paying careful attention...you got the distinct impression your partner in chaos was no longer playing merely for show.

Not when the tender sweep of his thumb against your wrist had taken on an unconsciously sensual caress you felt reverberating straight to your core.

Or when his luminous gaze threatened to strip you bare to your deepest foundations in unguarded moments whenever your eyes inevitably found themselves locking and holding with electric intensity once more...

No, there was no doubt about it. Despite your carefully laid plans and meticulous choreography preparing you for this very evening, Bokuto Kotaro was officially steering this emotional upheaval somewhere entirely unscripted and irrevocable.

And you couldn't quite decide whether you were utterly elated or terribly apprehensive at the thrilling prospect of seeing precisely where the detour he was plotting might take you both next.

The soft murmur of conversation and clinking silverware filled the air, punctuated by Atsumu's occasional bawdy joke or Hinata's bright peals of laughter. You fielded their friendly interrogation about how you and Bokuto first started dating with well-practiced ease - embellishing backstories and twisting innocent anecdotes just enough to maintain plausible deniability.

"So lemme get this straight," Atsumu leaned back, eyeing you both with an appraising look. "You two crazy kids knew each other all the way until high school, but never actually got your acts together until running into one another again randomly a few years later?"

You nodded, feeling Bokuto's thigh press solidly against yours beneath the table. "That's right. All those years of unresolved tension and lingering feelings finally just...combusted one night when we reconnected over drinks."

A roguish grin split Atsumu's features as he wiggled his brows suggestively. "I'll bet. Dontcha just hate it when all that pent up unresolved sexual tension hits ya like a sledgehammer to the nuts and you can't do anything but rip each other's clothes off for a—?"

"Atsumu!" Hinata cried, looking scandalized as he swatted his teammate's arm. You stifled a laugh as Bokuto shifted uncomfortably, a hint of pink tingeing those defined cheekbones.

From the corner of your eye, you caught Sakusa's usual impassive mask slipping slightly, mouth twitching as if resisting the urge to sneer outright at the vulgar banter. Those dark, piercing eyes found yours across the table and held them in a quietly scrutinizing stare. You met his silent appraisal head on, features schooled into neutrality.

Under the table, Bokuto's hand found yours, fingers threading together and squeezing tightly. You slanted him a look of silent understanding, trapping his other hand against your thigh in a reciprocal gesture of reassurance. The slight tremor you felt betrayed his nerves at being placed under such unyielding scrutiny, but he squeezed back fiercely all the same.

"Well, if Kou-kun is even half as good at deliverin' the goods behind closed doors as he is at performin' on the court, I'm sure things got nice and wild for you crazy lovebirds that night," Atsumu continued breezily, utterly uncaring of the atmosphere's shift towards tension.

To your surprise, you felt Bokuto tense sharply beside you, fingers tightening around yours in an anxious grip. Bewildered, you watched as that bright, sunny confidence seemed to bleed from his expression in real time - golden eyes going dim and shoulders slumping infinitesimally.

And just like that, you recognized the warning signs solidifying into place with a lurch of your stomach. Emo-mode, the bane of your existence.

You opened your mouth, about to cut in with some smooth deflection before matters could escalate any further. But you were beaten to the punch by a small, derisive scoff from Sakusa's side of the table.

"As if someone as emotionally stunted as Bokuto could ever hope to satisfy a real woman properly," he drawled, dark eyes glittering with unveiled disdain. "He's clearly still just an overgrown, emotionally-incontinent child playing make-believe at being a mature, capable adult."

The table fell into a shocked hush, charged and bristling in the wake of Sakusa's blunt dismissal. You could practically see the shutters slamming down behind Bokuto's eyes, mouth tightening into a flat line as every vestige of lightness drained from his demeanor.

"Oh come on, Omi-kun! That's a bit harsh, don't you thin-" Hinata began placatingly, only to halt when you waved a dismissive hand in his direction.

"Save your breath, Sho," you said easily, not even sparing Sakusa a glance as you shifted closer to Bokuto's side. "If Omi-kun wants to project his own intimacy issues all over the place, I say we just let him get it off his chest."

Bokuto stiffened slightly beside you, so you threw an arm around his broad shoulders and leaned fully into his personal space. With your free hand, you trailed your fingertips along the sculpted line of his pec through the thin fabric of his shirt, feeling the firm muscle jump beneath your teasing caress.

"Although..." You drawled, letting your nails rake lightly over his chest now. "If the brooding man is really that curious about Kou's prowess behind closed doors, I'm more than happy to give a full review right here and now."

You punctuated the loaded statement by slanting a boldly challenging look at Sakusa, lips curving into a smirk at the way his perpetual frown deepened ever so slightly in response to your brazen flirting.

"Let's just say that despite how childish this one can act around you sad sacks," you continued blithely, giving Bokuto's pec an indulgent squeeze that had his breath hitching audibly. "He's anything but immature when we're tangled up together in private."

The tips of Atsumu's ears went cherry red, jaw dropping open in a small 'o' of shock. Hinata looked equally aghast, hands flying up to cover his flaming cheeks as an embarrassed giggle slipped free. But Sakusa...Sakusa was the real prize, straightening in his seat and openly staring at you both now with what could only be grudging interest glinting in those obsidian eyes.

Feeling emboldened by his apparent investment in the conversation's tawdry turn, you slid your palm up to cup the solid weight of Bokuto's bicep, giving an appreciative squeeze that had the thick cords of muscle jumping beneath your fingers.

"Am I right or am I right, big guy?" You aimed the husky endearment directly at Bokuto, enjoying the way his complexion immediately took on a ruddy hue high across those razor-sharp cheekbones.

He blinked a few times, seeming to shake off his stupor with visible effort before settling you with a playful, smoldering look that went straight to your core in a dizzying rush of heat.

"Well, you know how I always strive for excellence in everything, babe," he rumbled, lips quirking into that lopsided grin that showed off his sharp canines. He dropped his voice another sin-cured register, gaze burning into yours from beneath his lashes as he continued. "Wouldn't wanna half-ass anything and disappoint a passionate woman like yourself, now would I?"

The promise behind that bedroom rasp was utterly unmistakable. You felt a shiver tingle deliciously down your spine at the overt suggestion, pupils blowing wide as you drank in the sight of your usually boisterous partner positively oozing rugged masculinity in that moment.

Somewhere between your parted thighs, you became aware of a telltale throb of heated interest making itself known. You swallowed hard, resisting the urge to squirm as prickles of arousal ghosted beneath your skin in delirious waves.

"Mmm, well I certainly can't argue with the results," you managed after a moment, pitching your tone into one of artfully feigned indifference despite the molten lava simmering in your veins now.

You slid one palm higher, knuckles grazing Bokuto's stubbled jaw in a searing caress as you held his blazing stare steadily.

"Pretty sure I've never once had cause to be anything less than...fully satiated and left quivering in the aftermath of your efforts, lover."

The blunt insinuation hung heavy in the air, dripping with unsubtle promise. Bokuto looked like he was two seconds away from spontaneously combusting right there at the table - eyes blown wide, chest heaving beneath the thin fabric of his shirt as his Adam's apple bobbed convulsively.

You simply arched one brow at his stunned expression, finally leaning back in your seat with a picture of nonchalant composure. As if you hadn't just been openly insinuating about the devastating prowess of his lovemaking mere moments ago.

Atsumu coughed roughly into his fist, still looking faintly scandalized. Hinata just kept darting bewildered glances between the pair of you, seemingly at a total loss. But Sakusa...

Sakusa regarded you with those impenetrable dark eyes for a long moment, carefully schooling his features into an inscrutable mask once more. Then the barest hint of a smirk quirked the corner of his mouth as he inclined his head a few fractional degrees.

"I'll give you this much - that whole overtly crass flirting act you've got going on takes a surprising amount of gall I didn't think you'd have in you," he remarked in that low, disaffected drawl of his. His smirk deepened by a few molars as he fixed Bokuto with a pointed look. "Though I suppose keeping up with this rambunctious headcase on a daily basis would require a significant lack of shame from anyone."

The backhanded compliment hung there, loaded with unspoken implication. You simply hummed softly in response, offering Sakusa a serene smile as you toyed with the stem of your wineglass.

"Why thank you kindly, Omi-kun. I'll take that as basically the closest thing to a glowing character endorsement I'm likely to get out of you for the foreseeable future." You tipped your glass at him in a small, mocking toast. "I do so appreciate the subtle acknowledgment of my brazen nature as being a core component of what snared such a virile, unapologetic peacock like my dear Kou in the end."

Sakusa snorted indelicately at the oblique dig, but let the matter slide in that same graceful display of aloof detachment he excelled at. Just like that, the brief undercurrent of simmering tension evaporated back into the comfortable warmth and easy banter you'd been immersed in all evening.

Hinata must have picked up on the new lightness settling back over the table, because he immediately turned to you both with a toothy grin and gleam of curiosity dancing in his warm brown eyes.

"So what was it that made you finally realize you were in love with each other?" he asked brightly, pushing his plate aside to lean across the table eagerly. "I mean, you said you two knew each other forever growing up, but was there like...a singular moment or event where you both had that huge 'oh crap, I'm head over heels for this person' epiphany?"

You felt Bokuto tense almost imperceptibly at your side, shoulders squaring beneath the weight of Hinata's innocent questioning. Out of the corner of your eye, you watched his features rapidly cycle through a range of micro-expressions - surprise, nervousness, that telltale hint of panic that always preceded his infamous Emo Mode onsets...

Quick as a flash, you reached beneath the table and tangled your fingers through his, giving a gentle squeeze of reassurance. Already, you were racking your brain for some plausible, romantic anecdote to spin Hinata's way and defuse the tension before—

"Yeah buddy, there sure was!"

Bokuto's voice rang out, clear and strong and utterly devoid of uncertainty as he squeezed your hand in return. You froze, scarcely daring to breathe as you watched his face utterly transform - melting from apprehension into that achingly earnest warmth and sincerity he always managed to project as clear as the summer sky.

"Sure, we knew each other practically our whole lives before then," Bokuto continued easily, locking eyes with you as a small, impossibly tender smile bloomed across his face. "But I don't think either of us realized just how deep our bond extended past mere friendship or sibling-like affection until this one fateful afternoon back in our middle school days..."

As if in a trance, you watched Bokuto's gaze drift into the middle distance as his deep timbre washed over the table - rich and hypnotic in a way that raised gooseflesh across every inch of your skin. You were so enraptured that you barely registered the way Hinata, Atsumu, and even Sakusa seemed to lean imperceptibly closer as well, helplessly drawn into the gravity of Bokuto's recollections as he continued.

"It was the first real warm, sunny day kicking off spring that year if I'm remembering right," he murmured softly, brow wrinkling slightly in concentration. "You came over to my place straight after classes let out wearing that cute yellow sundress with the white daisies printed all across the skirt - the one you always said brought out the warmth in your complexion even though I thought you looked lovely in anything..."

He shook his head with a soft chuckle, swiping his thumb almost unconsciously along the plump ridge of your knuckles. You could only stare, utterly transfixed by the impossibly tender aura radiating off Bokuto as he recounted these seemingly mundane details from your shared childhoods.

"Anyway, I remember being so pumped to show off this new trick I'd finally gotten down for hitting my jump serve properly after weeks of struggling with it. We biked over to the neighborhood court I used to frequent constantly those days, remember? The one tucked away behind that old batting cage that was always deserted on weekday afternoons?"

You felt your brows furrow slightly as Bokuto's rich timbre washed over you, pulling you deeper into the recollection unfolding. The court he referred to rang a vague bell, but you couldn't quite place the specific details he seemed to recall with such vivid clarity.

"When we got there though, I noticed the whole area had been totally swept up and cleaned out - not a single loose pebble or speck of sand marring the cracked surface." Bokuto shook his head in amazement, eyes growing distant. "Which was wild, because that place was usually a total wasteland by that point most days after school. Every nook and cranny would be just littered with junk from the neighborhood brats always convening there, y'know?"

You nodded slowly, a strange sense of disquiet beginning to unfurl in your chest as his words conjured those stray flashes of familiarity that simply wouldn't quite coalesce into full memories just yet.

"But there you were, already standing there by the net with this cute little flushed face and that ridiculously oversized broom clutched in both hands!" Bokuto punctuated this observation with a rich chuckle, one palm not currently entwined with yours coming up to rasp along the stubbled cut of his jaw. "I remember putting the pieces together right then and just...staring at you in total awe, because you'd clearly busted your cute butt to make sure the whole area was polished up to perfection just for my sake before I even got there!"

A strange thrill shot up your spine at the sincerity brimming in his voice - the naked awe and affection he aimed your way as those warm amber eyes heated to simmering levels once more. Despite yourself, you found yourself leaning infinitesimally closer as if drawn into the gravity well of his recollections against your will.

"You played it all off with that trademark prickly bluster, of course," Bokuto continued with a sly grin that did funny things to your heart rate. "Insisting you just wanted to make sure I wasn't going to crack my skull open while trying new move."

He shrugged one solid shoulder, gaze searching yours with impossible warmth and tenderness. "But I knew the real truth even back then, babe. I could see it in the way you were watching me so intently with those bright, hopeful eyes - in the slight pink tint dusting your cheeks whenever I caught you staring at me while I ran through my warm up tosses..."

A soft, private smile bloomed across his features then, luminous enough to stop your breath in your lungs. "That was the very moment I realized you were so, so much more to me than just my oldest friend or surrogate sibling, you know? It hit me right then and there that you'd gone so far out of your way to do something so simple yet incredibly thoughtful and heartfelt, just to make me happy."

You could only stare mutely as Bokuto's larger palm found yours atop the table linens, engulfing your fingers in his calloused grasp with devastating tenderness. Every nerve ending in your body seemed to spark to blistering life at the contact - a lightning rod of awareness sharpening until it felt like you could discern each individual callous striating his palms, the subtle scent of fresh sweat and citrusy body wash that always seemed to cling to his sun-kissed skin...

"That was when I finally understood how deep my feelings had grown for you - how they were swiftly eclipsing the realm of childish affection or friendship entirely." Bokuto's voice emerged hardly above a hushed murmur, pitched for your ears alone despite the proximity of his teammates. He regarded you with burning intensity, as if willing you to see the truth blazing naked and exposed in every word. "You became my universe that day, babe. My every waking thought and source of joy, just like that..."

His stare lifted to lock onto yours with renewed intensity, clearly expecting some form of reciprocation or affirmation from you. But the words seemed to wither and die on your tongue as you took in the complex whirlwind of emotion swirling through those achingly familiar irises - so much raw gratitude and reverent affection bleeding through that molten golden glow that you swore you could actually feel the waves of heat undulating off him in physical pulses.

Bokuto huffed out another quiet chuckle at your continued, shell-shocked silence, swiping his thumb in one last caressing arc along your knuckles.

"Yeah, guess I'm probably starting to sound a bit loopy, huh?" His nose wrinkled into that boyish grin you'd always found so irresistibly endearing, though his gaze remained soft and terribly earnest as it clung to yours. "But hopefully that at least gives you sad sacks a little glimpse into the sorta stuff that made me realize real early on I could never hope to find a more perfect partner in crime than my best bro growing up."

You swallowed hard, mouth feeling like you'd attempted to swallow an entire handful of hot coals. The utter rawness and vulnerability etched into every nuance of Bokuto's expression sent ripples of scalding...something thundering through your nerve endings with dizzying rapidity. You struggled to place the torrential maelstrom of foreign sensations roiling in your gut - flickering fragments of nostalgia, affection, heated admiration all sluiced together into a conflagration of feeling that threatened to utterly consume you alive before ever finding solid definition.

Distantly, you registered the loud clatter of Hinata dropping his fork against his plate, the dull thud of Atsumu's boots striking the underside of the table in a startled jostle. But not even Sakusa shifting almost imperceptibly forward, dark eyes glittering with veiled intensity could penetrate the electric, encompassing bubble that had enveloped you and Bokuto in that singular, scorching moment of communion.

It wasn't until his gaze finally slid away, softening into something vaguely sheepish as he reached up to rub at his nape, that you managed to suck down a shuddering lungful of air. The simple, intrinsically Bokuto-esque gesture jarred you back into your surroundings enough to shake off the entrancing, suspended stupor clinging to your senses like rapidly evaporating ether.

"Anyway," he mumbled around a self-conscious chuckle, the tips of his ears dusting with a faint ruddy blush. "Maybe that was laying the sappiness on a bit too thick, huh? You know me though - always been an overly sentimental, heart-on-my-sleeve kinda romantic when it comes to the people who really ma—"

"No."

The soft, slightly hoarse denial seemed to startle Bokuto, effectively derailing the beginnings of his sputtered, babbling attempt to defuse the heavy tension still weighing over the table. He visibly startled, gaze darting back to yours with open surprise etching creases between his dark wings of brow.

"No, Kou...no that wasn't too thick at all," you managed, the words scraping themselves from your sandpaper throat against your will.

You'd meant to continue, to offer some form of coherent response in the wake of the emotional whiplash he'd just wrought upon you. But your lungs seemed to seize in protest instead, breath catching behind the blazing tightness squeezing through your chest as you simply stared back at your very best friend and confidante of nearly two full decades now.

In that breathless, ineffably charged beat of silence...you realized with sudden, gut-punching clarity that no matter what ridiculous, convoluted fiction or fable you spun to fool his teammates and their own jagged edges, Bokuto Kotaro would forever remain the greatest, most undeniable truth grounding every facet of your existence.

And in the flickering banked embers radiating from those beloved golden depths...you belatedly understood that you'd arrived at an event horizon where there could no longer be any hope of denying or restraining the inevitability of you both hopelessly, irrevocably colliding together in a spectacular Singularity.

"Hey..." The intimately hushed cadence of Bokuto's gravelly murmur lanced through the crackling tension like a lightning strike, searing your already overheated nerves into scorching new focus. "You okay over there, babe? Not gonna go spacey and float off on me after I unloaded all that nostalgic sap all over the place, are ya?"

His words registered, but only dimly - muffled and distant as though filtering through several layers of dense atmosphere. All you could seem to fully comprehend in that moment was the sight of that gentle, self-deprecating grin tugging one corner of his plush lips upwards. The way it softened those typically sharp, hawkish features into an expression so open and lushly affectionate that you felt your pulse trip over itself anew, stomach swooping inexorably with its own treacherous gravity.

"Kou, I..." The confession began thick and tremulous behind the vice squeezing your throat shut. Unbidden, you felt the corners of your mouth tilt upwards, mirroring his fond look completely against your will. "I...shit, I have no idea what I'm doing anymore, do I?"

Bokuto's grin gentled further at the admission, seeming to thaw even the final vestiges of tightly-coiled restraint lingering in the austere lines of his shoulders and posture. With a familiarity that spoke of two souls sharing the most intimate of proximities across countless lifetimes, he leaned in incrementally closer - that fiercely open gaze flickering between your eyes, settling briefly upon the telling dip of your pulse fluttering like a trapped hummingbird above your collarbones, skating hungrily across the plush curves of your mouth before meeting your stare once more.

"Just keep being you, babe," he murmured simply, the words hanging in a low, resonant thrum between you for a fraction of eternity before the world beyond seemed to catch up and snap back into focus once more. "That's always been more than enough to leave this poor sap hopelessly bewitched…"

The rest of the meal passed in a warm blur of laughter, stories, and easy camaraderie. Bokuto settled back into his usual over-the-top antics alongside his teammates, regaling the group with increasingly wild tales that had you all cracking up between bites.

You found yourself able to relax as well, basking in the affectionate familiarity permeating the atmosphere. Every now and then, you'd catch Bokuto flashing you a sidelong look, all quiet smiles and unguarded warmth shimmering in his ridiculous pretty eyes. It made something soft and fragile unfurl within your chest each time.

Before you knew it, the waiter was dropping off the check with an understated flourish. Atsumu craned his neck, whistling low at the total while Hinata made a noise of dismay at the exorbitant pricing. Only Sakusa looked unsurprised, already reaching for his wallet.

"C'mon guys, we all know this fancy-schmancy place was Koutarou's pick in an attempt to properly woo his lady love," he drawled, sliding his credit card free. "At least let the lovebirds cover this one since I'm sure the evening's 'festivities' are far from over, if you catch my drift."

Atsumu cackled at the sly dig while Hinata just sputtered awkwardly, ears blazing red. You simply rolled your eyes, though you couldn't quite smother the small grin tugging at your mouth.

In the end, Sakusa did insist on covering the hefty bill himself, waving away the others' half-hearted protests with his typical aloof assurances. Bokuto nudged you with an elbow and a conspiratorial wink while leaning close.

"Looks like you played the saucy seductress role a bit too convincingly there, gorgeous," he murmured against your temple, the words curling deliciously down your spine. "I think our prickly friend might've been genuinely flustered by your raw sexual charisma for once."

You made a small noise of amusement, though you let your hand drift beneath the tablecloth to rest atop his thigh in mocking reprimand. Almost instantly, Bokuto's teeth sank into that plush lower lip in a silent display of barely-restrained want that only amplified the simmering heat already starting to coil between you.

"Play your cards right, and I might even give you a more...intimate encore performance later, lover," you purred back, delighting in the way his eyelids fluttered shut briefly against your blatant provocation.

That delicious weight hung between you, thick and heady - until Atsumu loudly cleared his throat nearby. When your gazes snapped back up, the others were regarding you with varying degrees of disgruntled amusement and fond exasperation written across their faces.

"God, save it for the honeymoon suite you two!" Atsumu groused without any real bite. "If you're gonna keep eye-humping each other like that right in front of us, at least give us a head's up to vacate first, yeah?"

Hinata dissolved into a fresh round of flustered giggles while even Sakusa rolled his eyes skyward, fighting a smile of his own. Amidst the playful ribbing, you and Bokuto exchanged a sidelong look charged with renewed electricity - one that screamed of promises to be indulged very soon.

Eventually, everyone rose from the table in preparation to depart. You moved to follow, only to pause as Bokuto leaned in once more.

"Hey, did you maybe want to call it a night?" he murmured close to your ear, careful to keep his expression neutral as the others milled about nearby. "Or did my charming leading man act leave you craving a bit more one-on-one private time with yours truly later?"

You sucked in a sharp breath at the clear implication behind his words, well aware of the heated look he was undoubtedly aiming your way without even needing to meet his stare fully. For a brief heartbeat, you seriously considered agreeing - envisioning the two of you departing in a tangle of heated breath and roaming hands, rushing back to whichever private sanctuary you could find first to finally indulge this whirlwind of simmering desires between you...

But then good sense prevailed. With visible reluctance, you shook your head.

"As tempting as that sounded, I think decorum demands we make at least a token appearance for a bit longer if your rowdy friends have plans to continue this raucous evening elsewhere," you sighed, hating the small pout that tugged at Bokuto's lips unbidden. "At least for a little while, anyway."

He seemed to consider arguing, eyes darkening to molten gold in a way that promised deliciously deviant intentions should you change your mind. But in the end, Bokuto simply slipped his car keys from his pocket and pressed them into your waiting palm with a wolfish grin.

"In that case, gorgeous...do me a favor and go ahead and get the engine warmed up for me, yeah? Give us something to look forward to later when this whole charade inevitably winds down finally."

The sheer heat lacing his voice sparked tingles of anticipation straight to your core. Swallowing hard, you simply nodded wordlessly and accepted the keys from his calloused grasp.

You aimed for nonchalance as you retrieved your purse and swept from the restaurant's dimly lit interior, though the anticipatory thrum buzzing beneath your skin made it impossible not to throw a lingering look over your shoulder as you reached the foyer. Bokuto caught the silent summons instantly, liquid mercury gaze searing you in a wordless caress that only amplified the dizzying high building steadily within your bloodstream.

As you finally stepped out into the cool evening air, glass doors swinging shut behind you, it was impossible not to feel as though you were crossing over some indefinable threshold into uncharted territory. Already, you could feel the first pangs of restless need gnawing at the edges of your composure with each unhurried stride carrying you towards where Bokuto's car idled in the adjacent lot.

By the time you settled into the soft leather driver's seat, inhaling the clinging remnants of his cologne's earthy notes, the maelstrom of questions threatening to unravel your hard-won restraint threatened to boil over completely. You sank back against the headrest and blew out a shaky breath, fingers twisting in the hem of your dress.

What was happening here, in all actuality? This insane evening had started off as nothing more than a flimsy facade to indulge Bokuto's latest bout of unnecessary chaos. But then he'd begun conjuring those shockingly candid personal recollections with such heartfelt vibrancy and naked sincerity, leaving you rattled down to your core.

You worried your lower lip, suddenly desperate to know if everything about those stories had been genuine confessions from the secret chambers of Bokuto's heart...or merely another deceptively convincing act for the benefit of his teammates' prying eyes and probing questions.

God, but if he had been telling the truth behind all of it - laying his most sentimental inner self bare for your appraisal like some raw, exposed nerve ending quivering in the elements...what did that mean for the delicately balanced status quo of your relationship stretching back decades?

Uncertainty thrummed like a living thing, feeding off the echoing residue of Bokuto's words that only continued searing across your unsettled psyche with each passing minute. You needed answers, needed validation one way or another before allowing yourself to be swept any deeper into this rip current of escalating tension and undeniable...something that you could no longer ignore simmering between you.

Heaving another fortifying exhale, you sank your fingers into Bokuto's familiar leather seats and forced yourself to be patient. He would return soon enough with whatever plans the others had undoubtedly concocted by now. Then you would corner him, would demand the vulnerability you glimpsed tonight be laid bare once more in the name of unraveling this Gordian knot binding you into constricted agony the longer it went ignored.

For better or worse, you'd finally unearth the bedrock truth dwelling at the heart of this steadily shifting storm tonight...

Eventually, the spill of electric amber light announcing the return of the restaurant's revolving doors drew your gaze upwards. Sure enough, that familiar hulking silhouette soon emerged through the soft glow, the rest of his teammates filing out behind him in a loose cluster.

You watched, breath stilled somewhere in your throat, as Bokuto half-turned to exchange parting handshakes and backslaps with the others. Even from this distance, his smile shone like a supernova against the backdrop of Tokyo's glittering twilight skyline, brimming with boundless charisma and magnetic charm to the very last.

As if sensing your focus, he suddenly turned those molten irises your way across the distance separating you. The wink he favored you with was teasing and playful...but beneath it simmered a searing promise too heated to be anything less than entirely sincere and undisguised.

Your pulse kicked up another fevered notch in response, thighs clenching with restless anticipation even as Bokuto threw his head back in a rich peal of laughter at some parting jibe. When his shoulders finally turned and he began loping across the pavement in your direction, it almost felt like a physical phenomenon - as if the whole world had shifted slightly off its axis to better align with the singular gravity he projected.

Before you could even begin formulating greetings or pleasantries, Bokuto was already hauling open the driver's side door and ducking inside in one languid, graceful motion. The breath you'd been hoarding escaped in a shuddery exhale as his clean, crisp scent and physical presence overwhelmed your senses in an intoxicating rush.

He settled in beside you with that same unhurried nonchalance, shooting you a sidelong grin that did unspeakable things to your pulse point. A heavy pause lingered, thick and heady as he simply drank in your expression with lidded eyes.

"Well, babydoll..." Bokuto rumbled at last, tongue darting out to wet those lush lips in a tantalizing sweep you couldn't tear your eyes from. "I gotta say, we absolutely crushed that little performance back there, huh? Even those hardened skeptics couldn't deny our raw chemistry by the time the check rolled around, am I right or am I right?"

It took you a steadying inhale before you could unstick your tongue enough to respond properly, pulse thrumming wildly against the exposed hollow of your throat.

"Koutaro, did-"

The soft snick of his palm lifting cut off your faltering question before it could fully form. You held your breath, frozen in the act of leaning unconsciously closer as his calloused fingertips grazed your jawline in a whisper-soft graze. The tender stroke traveled downwards, mapping the delicate arch of your cheekbone and the slight dip in your cupid's bow with rapt intensity.

"You were magnificent, you know that?" he breathed out in a low, gravelly husk that had tingles erupting across every inch of your sensitized skin. "Everything about your raw confidence and that simmering sensuality you project...God, it drives me crazy just being in the same room as you most days."

His eyes slid shut on the final syllables, those impossibly long lashes fanning across the razor-sharp vees sculpting his high cheekbones. In the neon wash of the parking lot strobing across his face, his handsome features looked nothing short of transcendent - a true archetype of primal masculinity and searing intensity given living, sentient form before your very eyes.

You couldn't breathe. Could barely manage to swallow past the molten lava scorching the backs of your eyes and squeezing your throat into a vise as you drank in the sight of Bokuto Kotaro kneeling utterly at the altar of some unnameable, overpowering compulsion currently beckoning between you both.

When his eyes finally flickered open once more, the full force of that smoldering gaze struck you like an electrical charge directly to the solar plexus. Later, you might try to convince yourself that the rasping whine of pure, desperate _want_ that punched itself free from your chest had been another's entirely. But in that suspended eternity, it was impossible to deny or refute the pathways Bokuto's heated, worshipful regard ignited in your core.

Incrementally, his free hand lifted to join the other - twin callused brands scalding along the planes of your cheeks and jaw as he cradled your face with infinite reverence. You shivered helplessly at the covetous drag of his thumbs along the sleek columns of your throat, everything narrowing to the pounding of your pulsepoint being mapped and reverently traced by his deft, seeking touches.

"Kou..." The single syllable cracked and fractured on your tongue with all the strained resonance of fracturing stone. His name emerged ragged and desiccated with want, heavy with a lifetime of implications neither of you seemed willing or able to confront fully, even now.

You searched his heated gaze, feeling the world narrow until only the two of you existed within that smoldering vortex. Muscle by muscle, you forced your lungs to expand on a shuddering inhale, summoning your voice back from wherever it had fled.

"Was all that stuff you said back there..." You swallowed hard, mouth suddenly arid. "About those childhood memories and feelings...was it all real? Or just a convincing act for your teammates?"

A heavy pause lingered as Bokuto's expression cycled through a series of indecipherable micro-shifts. Just when you thought he might dodge the question entirely, his lips twitched toward that achingly familiar lopsided grin.

"What, you think I'm some sorta savant who can whip up heartfelt, introspective soliloquies full of poetic detail and raw truth on the fly?" One thick brow arched upward, eyes sparking with playful challenge. "You overestimate me, babydoll."

You held his pointed stare, refusing to be deflected so easily this time. A tense moment stretched out until Bokuto's expression sobered, shoulders slumping almost imperceptibly.

"No...no, you're right. That stuff back there about us as kids and how much you meant - mean - to me..." He exhaled roughly, fingers resuming their restless caresses along your jaw. "Every single syllable was the unvarnished, god's honest truth, gorgeous. I'd never lie or pull punches about how I really feel when it comes to you."

The naked sincerity in his tone struck you like a physical blow, causing your breath to stutter. You watched, mesmerized, as Bokuto's throat clicked in a convulsive swallow before pressing onward.

"All those things I reminisced about - the way you used to cheer me on through every little triumph or setback, be my fearless partner on whatever new misadventure we got tangled up in every other week...the way you saw me, really saw me through that kaleidoscope lens of yours that made me feel like the most important person in the whole goddamn universe?"

He shook his head slowly, eyes gleaming with something suspiciously like moisture in the low lighting.

"How could I ever fabricate or pretend about shit that fundamentally shaped who I grew into both on and off the court? Stuff that still sustains me and grounds me on my worst days when the rest of the world gets too blurry to make sense of?" One hand strayed upwards to thumb reverently at your cheekbone, featherlight and utterly intoxicating.

"You're my gravity well, [Y/N]. The warmth and sanctuary that this vagabond soul knows it can always return to without fear or reservation..." A lopsided, tender smile that pierced you straight through the heart. "So yeah, every unguarded, embarrassingly sincere word I spilled back there came straight from the most vulnerable and sacred chambers of my heart. You believe me now, don't you?"

The silence that greeted his softly implored question thrummed between you with heated weight. You could only gape at Bokuto, suddenly robbed of any other response beyond staring into those beloved sunburst irises gleaming with so much unspoken emotion and naked truth.

After several suspended eternities ticked by, you found your voice once more - slightly hoarse, but no less adamant in its conviction.

"So...you're telling me you're in love with me?" The words seemed to vibrate across your parted lips with the force of revelation. "After all this time as friends, as partners in every possible sense of the word...you've been carrying feelings for me all along that go far beyond that?"

Despite the enormity of your quietly uttered question, Bokuto didn't flinch or deflect. He simply held your gaze steadily, lashes dipping in a slow blink of wordless acknowledgment before those slender shoulders rolled in the smallest of casual shrugs.

"Well, duh," was his only verbal response - as succinct and casually devastating as a point-blank gunshot at close range.

The next few heartbeats stretched into an eternity of utterly bewildering suspension. Then, before your conscious mind could even begin parsing the rippling magnitude of Bokuto's admission, you were already moving. One second, you were gaping at the unshakable object of your oldest friend and eternal confidante laid emotionally naked before you. The next, your body acted of its own furious volition - launching itself bodily across the cramped interior until you collided with Bokuto in an explosive tangle of gasped breaths and roaming, frantically searching hands.

The first brush of his parted lips against yours detonated like a cosmic shockwave, shattering apart the last remnants of restraint and repression between you in one incandescent, full-bodied eruption. Bokuto groaned into the heated seal, falling back against the door with bruising force as his calloused palms came up to cradle your face.

You drank in the sound like a woman dying of thirst, slanting your mouth over his with desperate greed until your noses mashed and you could taste his sharp whimper on your tongue. Wasted years of rigid refusal and tamped-down desires pooled in your gut like molten lava, scalding every fiber of control you scrabbled to cling to until you could do nothing but surrender utterly to the sensation of Bokuto's lips searing themselves against yours with unbridled passion.

His arms wound around your arching spine, pulling you bodily into the cradle of his powerful thighs until you were both reduced to a tangle of thrashing, heated limbs. A low, visceral groan tore itself free from the deepest recesses of Bokuto's chest as your fingers sank into the feathery strands at his nape - swallowing down the sound greedily as you mapped every ridge of his full mouth in hungry reacquaintance.

Neither of you could be certain how long the two of you remained fused together like that, hips undulating against one another as hands roamed with frantic, impassioned urgency. Everything narrowed to the slick velvet seal of Bokuto's mouth, the warm salt of his skin beneath your lips and tongue as you dragged them reverently along his jaw. He trembled against you with barely restrained ardor, fingers clutching in your hair with possessive insistence as he gasped your name like a tattered prayer between each plunging reclamation of your lips.

By the time the dizzying need for oxygen forced you to draw apart, you both were utterly disheveled and wild-eyed - panting harshly with swollen lips and pupils blown wide by an entirely different brand of intoxication than either of you had experienced before. Bokuto stared up at you with naked hunger etched across his beloved features, thumbs sweeping along the sharp vees of your cheekbones with almost religious devotion tingeing his motions.

Unable to resist, you ducked forward to seal your mouths together once more in a far more tender, unhurried meeting full of wordless reassurance and affection. An undercurrent of new, unexplored intimacy and tenderness that had your very bones seeming to dissolve into boneless rapture with each torturously slow glide of tongue and caressing press of lips.

Bokuto sighed against your mouth, the sound vibrating through you both with raw longing. His big hands came up to cradle your face, fingertips brushing the soft baby hairs at your temples as he savored the languid glide of your mouths moving together. There was no rushed hunger or desperate need in his motions - just a willingness to fully immerse himself in this new level of intimacy blossoming between you both.

You nipped at his plush lower lip, tugging gently until he parted for you with a soft groan. The first sweep of your tongue against his was electrifying, stoking embers low in your belly as you mapped the slick velvet heat. Bokuto rumbled wordless approval, one hand sliding down to fist in the hair at your nape to angle your head aside for deeper exploration.

The next few moments stretched into a heated eternity of simply rediscovering one another through this new lens. There was no urgency beyond taking your time tasting, feeling, surrendering to the simple act of making out with a heady, smoldering intensity. Bokuto practically liquefied against you with each pass of your seeking tongue, broad chest vibrating against yours with quiet whimpers and gasping exhalations of pleasure.

Eventually, need for air forced you to part, sharing humid breaths between your slick, swollen lips. Bokuto immediately ducked in to mouth along the sharp line of your jaw, lips brushing against your racing pulse point. A full-body shudder ripped through you at the sensation - so new yet so familiar and thrilling all at once.

"God, babydoll..." he rasped, teeth grazing the juncture of your neck and shoulder. "You have no idea how many times I dreamed about getting to do this with you over the years."

You whimpered at the husky confession, tilting your head aside to bare more of your throat in blatant invitation. Bokuto took full advantage, suckling heated kisses and teasing nips down the long column until your fingers were fisted in his shirt, breath sawing harshly.

Then he was nosing aside the strap of your dress to blaze a path across your clavicle and into the soft swell where your breasts strained against the fabric. You arched into him with a soft keen, nipples tightening into aching points as he laved and tasted his fill.

"Fuck, Kou..." It took concentrated effort to form words when his wicked mouth was latching onto your arousal-flushed skin, tongue swirling tantalizing patterns. "If this is anything like those dreams of yours, how the hell did you ever keep your hands off me this long?"

He pulled back slightly, meeting your heavy-lidded stare with burning intensity. His pupils were blown wide, lips swollen and slick from your earlier kisses.

"Barely," he admitted, voice already wrecked. "It took every ounce of self-control not to shove you against the nearest surface and finally get my mouth all over you some nights."

The naked, unfiltered honesty in his tone was like a lightning bolt straight to your core. You surged up to reclaim his lips in another scorching, bruising kiss that stole your breath away. Bokuto groaned, broad palms smoothing down your sides to palm your ass in a firm, possessive grip and rock you against the rigid line of his cock straining in his slacks.

You gasped, nipping at his lips as you ground down against the delicious friction. "Take me to the backseat, I can't wait anymore."

He grunted, sucking a mark at the join of your neck and shoulder that would surely bloom into a dark bruise. The idea of wearing his claiming marks so openly only ratcheted your arousal higher.

"No can do, gorgeous," Bokuto rasped when he finally pulled away, giving your thighs an apologetic squeeze. "I've dreamed of getting my hands and mouth all over every gorgeous inch of you for far too long now. So no way in hell am I doing this in a cramped backseat, got it?"

You wanted to protest, feeling dangerously close to spontaneously combusting with how badly you needed him against you. But the raw honesty and tender promise shining in Bokuto's gaze had you melting back against the leather seat.

"Vision is you spread out for me in a big bed, all flushed and squirming while I take my sweet time unwrapping you." His voice dropped to that gravelly bedroom timbre that had goosebumps erupting everywhere. "Get to taste every sweet little inch, work you apart with my mouth until you're sobbing for me to bury myself so deep inside you'll never doubt how crazy gone I am again."

God... You swallowed hard against the renewed gush of slick arousal between your thighs, nipples visibly straining against the thin lace of your dress now. Bokuto watched you hungrily, smirk curling as he raked his gaze over your disheveled state.

"So keep that pretty little ass firmly planted in that seat, babydoll" he instructed, voice dropping into that commanding register that brooked no argument. "We're headed straight to your place so I can properly take you apart piece by delicious piece. No more waiting or holding back, yeah?"

You could only nod breathlessly and grip the seat as he threw the car into drive and pulled out from the parking lot.

No more waiting indeed. And now that this thrilling new boundary had finally been crossed...you were utterly aching to let your best friend and oldest confidant absolutely worship and ravage you in ways you'd both been denying yourself far too long.

The door had barely clicked shut behind you before Bokuto was on you again, broad palms cradling your face as he sealed your mouths in a searing, open-mouthed kiss. You whimpered against his insistent exploration, legs already feeling shaky as he walked you backwards down the hallway.

"Bedroom," he growled between searing nips at your lips. "Need you underneath me right fucking now, babydoll."

You nodded dazedly, moaning into the velvet glide of his tongue slicking against your own. The backs of your thighs hit the mattress and you allowed yourself to topple back, dragging Bokuto's solid weight down atop you with a muffled thump.

He immediately slotted one thick thigh between your parted legs, the ridge of his erection grinding deliciously against your aching core through too many layers. The rough drag of his slacks sent electric shocks zinging straight to your clit with each circling roll of his hips.

"Fuck..." Bokuto panted harshly against the heated brand of your neck, sucking fresh marks into the sensitive skin there. "Been going crazy thinkin' about getting you just like this - flushed and squirming and so turned on from my mouth alone, baby."

You keened at the blatant promise audible in his deep rasp, arching up against the delicious weight pinning you to the mattress. Bokuto growled approvingly, breaking away to hastily shuck his shirt over his head and revealing miles of tanned, defined muscle for your hungry gaze to roam over.

"That's it," he groaned, bracing on one forearm to mouth along the swell of your breasts peeking over the neckline of your dress. "You have no idea how many times I've envisioned undressing you nice and slow like this, gorgeous. Now I finally get to feast my eyes and hands on every luscious curve without any more fucking around."

True to his word, he tugged the zipper of your dress down with maddening slowness, peeling the fabric open in increments to reveal your bra and the toned planes of your abdomen. You shivered at the sheer heat and hunger in his gaze as it raked over your bared skin with scorching intensity.

"That's it, babydoll..." Bokuto encouraged with a ragged grunt, guiding you to sit up so he could peel your dress the rest of the way off in a whispery slide. "God you're so fucking gorgeous. A vision straight from the most delirious, hungry wet dreams of mine..."

You were left in just your matching black lace bra and panties, nipples peaked and straining against the delicate lace. Bokuto sucked in a sharp breath at the sight, irises nearly swallowed by pupils blown wide with naked lust.

"Stay just like that for me while I strip these last layers off, yeah?" he murmured, leaning in to ghost kiss-swollen lips along the swell of your breasts and down your sternum. "Need to be able to look my fill before I absolutely devour every bare inch and relearn your body with my mouth in a way I only dreamed of until now..."

You could only moan brokenly in response as Bokuto drew back just far enough to hook his fingers in the waistband of his slacks. With a few deft movements, he shucked the last of his clothes off as well until he knelt before you in all his naked glory - a living sculpture of sinewy, powerful muscle and undeniable masculine beauty.

Your gaze instantly dropped to where his thick, flushed cock curved up towards his abdomen - mouth watering at the prospect of finally getting your hands, lips, tongue all over him in return. Bokuto didn't miss your heated appraisal either, if his cocky grin was any indication.

"All yours, beautiful..." he growled in a voice made to rumble filthy promises against your slick heat. "Soon as I've had my proper taste first, that is. Want you falling apart around my tongue before I even think about sinking into that gorgeous body for real this time."

With that, he surged forward again, guiding you to lie back as his lips trailed hot, open-mouthed kisses down the valley between your breasts. Your back arched on a gasping whine as he tugged the lace cups aside and swirled his tongue around one peaked, aching nipple before drawing it into the wet heat of his mouth to suckle with shameless greed.

"Oh God, Kou!" The sharp suction was a lightning bolt straight to your clit, hips jerking up against his iron grip pinning you in place. Bokuto grinned around the tightened peak, releasing it with a soft pop before turning his attention to the other side.

You were positively squirming beneath him, thighs clamping reflexively around his hips by the time he pulled away with a final lick and kiss to each pebbled peak. He chuckled low and filthy, pressing a chaste kiss between the valley of your breasts before continuing his downward exploration.

"So damn beautiful..." Bokuto murmured, hooking his thumbs into the lacy band of your panties and peeling them off in one smooth motion. You were already soaked beyond belief, pussy swollen and aching for him to touch and claim and make you come harder than you ever had in your entire life.

He hummed in appreciation at the sight, settling his shoulders between your quivering thighs and gripping the back of each in a firm, implacable hold. Before you could utter a single sound, Bokuto ducked down and buried his face between your legs, the first long swipe of his tongue against your dripping slit eliciting a shattered, broken keen from your chest.

"Fuck!" The filthy curse ripped itself from your throat, head tossed back against the pillows as your thighs instinctively tried to clamp around his ears. Bokuto was having none of it, though - grip unrelenting as he held you pinned in place with your legs spread wide for his ravenous assault.

His tongue licked into you in a hot, unyielding glide that had you writhing and clawing at the sheets. The first flick of that wickedly talented appendage against your aching clit had your hips bucking sharply, but Bokuto's hold was absolute. All you could do was submit to his mouth's determined, skillful exploration of every sensitive dip and crevice, the molten heat building low in your belly cresting impossibly higher.

"Shit, Kou..." You choked out, the first flutters of orgasm already tightening your lower belly. Bokuto growled wordlessly against you, latching onto your clit and suckling hard enough to send you hurtling towards the edge with a strangled cry.

You were right there, poised on the knife's edge and ready to fall into ecstasy at the first nudge of his fingers filling your clenching channel. But before the first waves of release could crash over you, Bokuto released his hold on your throbbing bundle of nerves and eased away with a parting lick that left you sobbing.

"Kou, please! Please, I'm so fucking close, I need -" You couldn't even finish the sentence, reduced to a trembling, quivering mess beneath the scorching heat of his gaze as he stared down at you from between your thighs.

"I know, babydoll," he assured in a husky rasp, calloused fingers rubbing soothing circles against the delicate skin of your inner thighs. "But I've got every intention of making you fall apart so many times tonight that you'll be feeling the aftereffects for days. So no need to rush the first time, yeah?"

He punctuated the filthy promise with a languid lap from slit to clit, tongue curling against the pulsing bud until you were squirming once more. Then, without further preamble, Bokuto buried his face between your thighs with an utterly ravenous growl, spearing his tongue inside you in a deep, relentless thrust that had you seeing stars.

You writhed beneath his unyielding hold, completely helpless to his ministrations as he fucked you with his tongue and laved sloppy kisses and teasing flicks against your swollen clit. Every nerve ending felt like it was on fire, the pressure building low in your gut until you were absolutely certain it would combust at any moment.

Your entire body felt like a taut wire, the tension coiling tighter and tighter with each plunge of his wickedly talented tongue. Bokuto growled against you, the vibrations reverberating through your slick folds and straight to the aching, throbbing bud at their apex.

"I - oh fuck, Kou!" You could barely form a coherent thought, let alone a sentence with the way his mouth was driving you relentlessly towards the precipice of release. "Please, baby, I need you to -"

You couldn't even finish the plea before he was latching his lips around your clit, sucking hard enough to send you toppling over the edge with a strangled, gasping cry. Bokuto didn't relent - not even as he tongued against the throbbing bundle and lapped up every gush of fresh arousal coating your soaked inner walls.

Stars exploded behind your tightly shut eyes, the waves of ecstasy rippling through your quivering limbs until you were certain you'd melt right into the mattress. But Bokuto was relentless - the insistent pressure of his mouth not easing up for even a second as he carried you straight through the aftershocks and up the next cresting wave with a single-minded determination to reduce you utterly boneless and mindless.

By the time the sensation was overwhelming and you managed to tug weakly at his hair, the next release slammed through you like a freight train. The second orgasm was even more intense than the first, leaving you a shuddering, gasping heap as Bokuto finally withdrew and pressed a parting kiss to the sensitive flesh.

He hummed in satisfaction, the vibration thrumming through your hypersensitive core and drawing a shuddering whimper. "So fucking perfect for me, babydoll...you have no idea how long I've been wanting to watch you fall apart just like that on my tongue. Gonna spend the rest of the night taking my sweet time getting you off in every way possible, you hear?"

The gravel-laced promise had your inner walls clenching weakly, pussy already aching for more despite the two intense releases in quick succession. Bokuto grinned, pressing another soft kiss against your swollen, throbbing clit before easing away and crawling up your still-trembling body.

You immediately reached for him, fumbling weakly with his jaw and neck until his lips sealed over yours. The first brush of his mouth was electric, tasting of the musky sweetness of your release as his tongue delved between your lips to reclaim every corner. You moaned, wrapping yourself around his broad, powerful form with a desperation you'd never felt before.

"Want to touch you," you managed to gasp out when he finally pulled back with a husky groan, pupils blown wide with naked hunger. "Need to feel you against me, baby."

Bokuto grinned, dipping down for another searing kiss before obliging. You were a mess of tangled, sweaty limbs, but neither of you cared as he settled his weight atop you. His cock throbbed against your aching, throbbing core, the slick, rigid heat of it rubbing against your slick, swollen flesh in the most delicious friction.

You both groaned in unison at the sensation, bodies slotting together perfectly. Bokuto ducked in to kiss you senseless again, teeth tugging on your bottom lip and tongue plunging past the seam to lick and stroke against yours. His thick, muscular frame felt like a shelter above you, pinning you in place and shielding you from everything but him.

"You have no idea how long I've thought about this moment, gorgeous." He ground down against your sopping slit, the tip of his cock brushing teasingly against your swollen, throbbing clit. The jolt of electricity nearly had you coming right then and there, thighs clenching around his waist.

"I've fantasized about getting to taste you, make love to you, hear you screaming my name until you lose your voice." Bokuto's words were punctuated by the slow, torturous roll of his hips. Each thrust brought his rigid shaft to slide along the drenched cleft of your pussy, the tip teasing your entrance with each pass.

"You're so fucking beautiful when you come apart, babydoll," he growled, lips ghosting across the shell of your ear. "Just the sexiest thing I've ever laid eyes on. And now I get to see it over and over again, every day from here on out. Fuck, I'm the luckiest man alive."

His words had a fresh surge of arousal pulsing through you, the need to have him filling and stretching and claiming your body beyond anything else. Bokuto groaned as you clenched around nothing, a fresh bead of precum smearing against your dripping folds.

"Kou," you moaned, nails digging into the taut flex of his shoulders as his cock slid through your soaked core once more. "I need you. Inside. Right. Fucking. Now."

He smirked, sealing your mouths together in a filthy, bruising kiss that made you see stars. Then he was reaching between your bodies to angle his cock, the tip kissing your entrance. The anticipation was a physical ache, but still Bokuto held steady - staring down at you with that molten intensity.

"I love you," he breathed, voice thick with emotion. You swallowed hard, a fresh wave of affection and desire and lust swamping you as his gaze pierced straight to your soul. "I've loved you for years, babydoll. And I intend on making you mine, in every way possible."

You nodded breathlessly, wrapping yourself around him as much as humanly possible. Bokuto dipped his head down, pressing a searing kiss to your temple as he began to sink inside with a single, powerful thrust.

Both of you moaned at the sensation, bodies locking together perfectly as his cock sank to the hilt inside your sopping, clenching heat. You'd never felt more full in your entire life - stretched and aching around him in the most delicious way.

Bokuto didn't give you any time to adjust before pulling out and sinking back into the wet clutch of your walls, the angle so perfect it was like he was made to fit you. His lips captured yours in a hungry, open-mouthed kiss, his next thrust punching a ragged cry from your lungs.

You clutched at his broad shoulders, the muscles bunching and flexing beneath his golden skin with each powerful snap of his hips. Bokuto was relentless, driving into you with a single-minded focus that sent shocks of ecstasy jolting through your core with every brush against the spongy bundle of nerves inside.

It didn't take long for your climax to build, the molten heat pooling low in your gut. You were reduced to a whimpering, writhing mess beneath his iron-willed determination to claim and wreck and own you. The pleasure was almost too much, and when Bokuto dropped his hand to thumb rough circles against your clit, you were utterly undone.

You sobbed, the dam of pleasure cresting and crashing through your trembling form. Bokuto didn't let up though, not even when the intensity was on the verge of becoming overwhelming. His thumb never stopped the firm, steady pace, drawing you higher and higher until your entire body was alight with pleasure.

"You have no idea how beautiful you look right now, babydoll," Bokuto growled in a voice that was pure sex and sin and everything in between. "Falling apart and coming around my cock like this is the best goddamn view in the world. And now I get to have it all the time, every day for the rest of our lives."

You nodded frantically, unable to even formulate a response as he continued to grind and rut against your tender, swollen core. Another release was imminent, and he knew it too - the pace of his thumb ratcheting up until the pressure was white hot and ready to combust at any moment.

Bokuto sealed his lips over yours, swallowing down your cry as the final release slammed through you. Your orgasm was even more powerful than the others, leaving you breathless and reeling and feeling completely wrecked. Bokuto was still rocking into you, chasing his own high now, and it wasn't long before he was following right behind you with a roar and a flood of warmth against your still-pulsing inner walls.

"Fuck!" he snarled, pumping into you with short, hard thrusts. His cock twitched, the thick length twitching and throbbing within your clenching depths. You felt the warm gush of his release coating you from the inside, clinging to your gummywalls as he buried himself as deep as humanly possible.

Aftershocks trembled through you both, and Bokuto slumped atop you in a sweaty, tangled heap. You welcomed his weight, arms wrapping around his neck and tangling in the damp strands of his silver hair. Neither of you spoke for several long moments, content to bask in the afterglow and each other's presence.

"So..." Bokuto murmured eventually, rolling the two of you so he could cradle you against his chest. You looked up to meet his amber gaze, noting the satisfied, self-satisfied grin. "Think you'll be ready for round two soon?"

You blinked, then arched a single brow in an incredulous expression. "Seriously? Already?"

He chuckled, the rumble vibrating against your cheek where it rested above his heart. "Well yeah. We've got years of sexual frustration to make up for, don't we? So we should really get started on that."

You huffed out a laugh, swatting playfully at his chest. "Fine, you ridiculous man. But we're gonna have to take a shower and hydrate first. I need to have my strength up if we're gonna do this properly."

Bokuto smirked, one large palm splaying across the bare swell of your ass. "Well, I suppose we can get some food and water in us. Then maybe round two can involve that shower, eh?"

You snorted, the sound trailing off into a squeal as he rolled you both off the mattress and carried you to the bathroom bridal-style. Bokuto was already sporting an impressive semi, and when you glanced down, the sight was enough to make your pussy throb with renewed need.

"Well then," you managed, licking suddenly dry lips as Bokuto set you down in front of the mirror and caged you against the counter. "I guess round two is starting early then, huh?"

His grin was positively predatory, and when his teeth latched onto the curve of your neck, you gasped in a mixture of pleasure and pain. His voice was a dark rumble, a promise that you felt straight to your core.

"That's the idea, babydoll."

[teamatsumu]

compression. (sakusa kiyoomi x reader)

summary: atsumu is the perfect person to feed your obsession with kiyoomi’s arms.

word count: 1172

warnings: swearing, very mildly suggestive (if you squint), detailed descriptions of kiyoomi’s arms in compression sleeves so it’s not for the faint hearted

tags: @keiva1000 @kindnessspreads @msbyomimi

When you studied Marketing and Communications in university, you didn’t exactly anticipate that your future would include you managing a V League Division 1 sports team. But every day when you went into work, you thanked the gods above that this is where your career path had led you, because that meant you could ogle Sakusa Kiyoomi and his infamous compression sleeves all day.

Oftentimes you were certain Kiyoomi didn’t mean anything by them. For him, they were practical. They kept his arms taut and ready for the ball. They made his movements sharper. He received the ball better. He didn’t have to feel his bare skin on the dirty court. These were all reasons you had heard straight out of his mouth. When you heard him mention them so nonchalantly, it almost made you feel bad for the absolutely sinful- borderline deranged- thoughts you had in your head about the way those sleeves made his arms look.

You were well aware of the kind of thoughts Kiyoomi’s choice of athletic wear caused among his fans. To put it simply and bluntly, they went feral over it. There were whole Twitter accounts dedicated to just his arms, or his chest. And as someone who often managed social media profiles for some of the members, you got to see the most unhinged of these comments with your own two eyes. And you would be the first to (secretly) admit that you agreed with 90% of what was being said, because holy shit did those sleeves do something to you.

Most of the time during practice, you could feel your eyes drift back over to the man in question, wearing a black sports tee and those godforsaken sleeves, working up quite the set as they played set after set to prepare for their next game. As the hours passed, Kiyoomi would get more and more disheveled, curls becoming unruly enough that he would grab a towel, biceps flexing as he ran it over the nape of his neck and dipped into the collar of his shirt. Christ almighty.

You should’ve known that you would eventually get caught. But if it was anyone who would notice, you had expected it to be Meian or maybe Coach Foster. But the person who did bring it up to you happened to be the biggest nightmare in this scenario; Miya Atsumu.

“Ya should be a little less obvious ‘bout it.” He commented when he trudged over to the bench where you sat, grabbing a water bottle and beginning to chug. You tore your eyes from Kiyoomi who now had his back to you, the muscles under his shirt flexing with every movement. You raised an eyebrow at the blond, not yet correlating his words with your hidden obsession. He placed the bottle down and placed a hand on his hip, giving you a knowing smirk.

“A blind grandma could notice the way yer lookin’ at him.”

Your eyes widened and cheeks flamed when he nudged his head in Kiyoomi’s direction, and you knew you had been caught. You clenched your jaw hard.

“You say a single word-”

He threw his hands up as if in surrender, effectively silencing your threat in its tracks.

“I won’t, promise! But there is one thing…..”

You groaned loudly, throwing your head back. Of course, of fucking course he would blackmail you with this.

“What do you want?” You deadpanned, glaring at him and preparing for the worst.

Atsumu looked a bit affronted, as if the mere insinuation that he might want something was preposterous to him. You gave him another tired look, until he sighed and gave up, plopping down heavily on the bench next to you.

“A phone number. Ya know that cute girl who comes by once a month? From the Volleyball Association?”

“No.”

Atsumu’s mouth dropped like a child who just got slapped. “Hey c’mon! Ya didn’t even hear me out!”

You groaned and pinched the bridge of your nose, feeling a characteristic frontal headache begin to build, courtesy of Miya Atsumu. “I’m tired of setting you up with people, Tsumu! It won’t end well, as always-”

“I’ll get you a picture of Omi with his compression sleeves.”

You give him an unimpressed look. “I can get hundreds of those off the internet.”

“I’ll get you a picture of Omi with just his compression sleeves.”

That made you halt in your tracks. You searched Atsumu’s face for any form of mockery or lie, and you found none. Your eyebrows shot up when you realized he was being serious.

“In the locker room. I can get it for ya today.”

Oh my god. Instinctively, your eyes darted over to the man in question, who was talking to Hinata about something. It looked like volleyball tips since he had his arms before him in a receiving position, and Hinata was rapidly nodding to what he was saying.

“No.” You shook your head. “No, that’s wrong.”

“I’ll take a selfie with him, yeah? He will know there’s a photo. And I can send it in the groupchat.”

You look back at Atsumu, seriously contemplating his offer. He kept yapping, as per usual, thinking that the more he talked, the likelier it would be to convince you. And the bastard was right, it was working.

“No one else will bat an eye. We see each other in the lockers all the time. No big deal.”

You bit your lip in thought. The possibility of seeing Kiyoomi shirtless and only in compression sleeves had your pulse rising.

“And you just want her number in return?”

Atsumu nodded eagerly. You gave him a narrow-eyed glare.

“Send the picture. Then I will give you the number.”

His triumphant grin made it feel like he had already won. “Deal.”

That evening, when your phone pinged with a text notification, you nearly flew across the bed to grab it, opening the picture Atsumu sent in the groupchat with eager fingers and freezing as soon as you laid eyes on it.

Atsumu had held up his end of the bargain spectacularly.

He had taken the picture with Kiyoomi a little further in the background, so he could get the man’s full torso in it. He was facing slightly away from the camera, but his face was turned towards it, capturing the scowl between his eyebrows and the little pout of his mouth. He was gloriously shirtless, still a bit sweaty from practice, and he held his shirt in his hand, one arm flexed as he held it while the other was held carelessly by his side, compression sleeves hugging the cords of toned muscles just right.

There was another ping, pulling you out of your trance and making you realize just how dry your mouth had gotten. Atsumu had messaged you privately.

“My payment? ;)”

You rolled your eyes and sent him the number, immediately going back to the picture and starring it for future reference, a tiny smile quirking up the corner of your lip as you did so.

[jhyoos]

REBEL GIRL

Chapter 1: Player

rockstar! sevika x influencer! reader

summary: (y/n) is invited by her close friend, caitlyn to come to her band’s concert, giving her a backstage pass.

warning: modern au!, fame au!, and swearing

notes: y’all let me know what their band name should be! 🫶

chapters : one, two , three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten

The ring light cast a soft glow across your face as you adjusted the camera’s angle. The glow of the ring light softened the sharp angles of your decor—black walls adorned with band posters. Your desk was cluttered with makeup palettes, brushes, and a freshly arrived PR package.

“I’ve been waiting forever to get my hands on this,” you continued, holding up the box. “So let’s see what the hype is or if they’re playing us again.”

You flicked open the lid, showing off the dramatic reveal to the camera, giving a detailed breakdown of the products inside. As you swatched a deep crimson lipstick on your wrist, your phone buzzed on your desk.

“Oh…,” you muttered, leaning off camera to check.

Caitlyn 💙: Hey Y/N, I’ve decided to bless you with a backstage pass for tonight’s show. You in?

The message Caitlyn made you pause. You’d known her for a while now—first through a friend of a friend, then through a collaboration where you helped her band gain traction on your socials. That collab had been a turning point for them.

You : You better be blessed I cleared my schedule tonight!

Hours later, you found yourself standing at the back entrance of a packed venue. Fans swarmed the streets, their excitement practically vibrating in the air. You adjusted your leather jacket, feeling more like yourself among the edgy crowd.

Inside, a staff member escorted you through a maze of hallways until you reached the backstage area. The hum of guitars being tuned, the steady rhythm of drum checks, and the occasional burst of laughter created a vibrant, chaotic energy.

“Y/N!” Caitlyn’s voice called from a corner. You spotted her, dressed in her usual new variant of baggy ripped jeans and baby tee. Her face lit up when she saw you.

“There she is,” Caitlyn said, pulling you into a quick hug. “I’m glad you came.”

“You made it hard to say no,” you replied, looking around. “So this is where the magic happens, huh?”

Caitlyn laughed. “Yeah, it’s a mess, but it works. The band’s scattered right now—Vi’s finishing her guitar setup, Jinx is probably somewhere causing trouble, and Sevika...” She trailed off, smirking. “Well, Sevika’s being Sevika.”

“Which means?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Probably charming her way into trouble,” Caitlyn said, rolling her eyes. “You’ll see.”

As if on cue, a smooth, deep voice cut through the noise. “Speaking of trouble…”

You turned to find Sevika leaning against the doorway, her electric guitar slung across her shoulder. Her presence was magnetic—broad shoulders, tattoos winding down her arms, and a smirk that was as cocky as it was alluring.

“And who’s this?” Sevika asked, her eyes locking on you.

“Y/N,” Caitlyn said with a hint of warning in her voice. “A friend. So behave, Sev.”

Sevika ignored Caitlyn’s tone and stepped closer, extending a hand. “Sevika. Lead guitarist and part-time troublemaker.”

You shook her hand, her grip firm and deliberate. “Y/N. Influencer and part-time skeptic.”

That made her laugh—a deep, rich sound that you felt in your chest. “A skeptic, huh? We’ll see about that.”

You pulled your hand away, crossing your arms. “Don’t get any ideas.”

“Oh, I’ve got plenty,” Sevika said, her smirk widening.

Before you could respond, Vi appeared, slinging her own guitar over her shoulder. “Sev, don’t scare off Caitlyn’s friends before we even hit the stage,” she said, her tone light but commanding.

“I’m just being friendly,” Sevika said innocently, though the glint in her eye said otherwise.

You rolled your eyes and turned back to Caitlyn. “Let me guess—this happens a lot?”

Caitlyn sighed, giving you an apologetic smile. “Welcome to my life.”

As you followed Caitlyn toward her drum kit, you couldn’t help but feel Sevika’s gaze lingering on you. She was trouble, that much was obvious, but you weren’t about to let her get under your skin.

Not yet, anyway.

The smell of sweat, spilled beer, and raw anticipation filled the air as you stood near the edge of the VIP section. You adjusted your leather jacket, letting the buzz of the crowd settle into your skin. The venue felt alive—hundreds of fans pressed together, shouting and cheering, as the lights dimmed and the noise swelled into a roar.

A single spotlight pierced through the darkness, illuminating Vi as she strutted confidently toward the microphone, her guitar slung across her back. She grinned out at the audience, her energy magnetic, and the room fell silent in reverence.

“You ready for this?” Vi’s voice boomed, equal parts challenge and promise.

The crowd erupted, their screams shaking the walls as the first notes ripped through the air.

The band launched into their opening song with precision and fire. Vi commanded the stage effortlessly, her voice raw and powerful, blending perfectly with her sharp guitar riffs. Caitlyn, ever composed, added a melodic touch from the keyboard, her fingers dancing across the keys with a grace that seemed almost out of place in the chaos of the stage. Jinx, on the other hand, was a blur of wild energy behind the drum set, her movements erratic yet precise, her laughter audible even over the pounding rhythm she created.

And then there was Sevika.

She moved into the spotlight for her solo, her fingers flying across the strings of her guitar with a skill that left the crowd in awe. Her smirk was practically a permanent fixture, the glint in her eye daring anyone not to look at her. She had an ease about her, a confidence that screamed rockstar, and the fans ate it up.

Your eyes lingered on her longer than you meant to. There was no denying she was captivating—the tattoos curling around her arms, the way she poured everything into the music, the cocky tilt of her head when she glanced out at the screaming crowd.

But then your gaze drifted to the edge of the stage, where she seemed to lock eyes with someone in the front row. A girl—blonde, wide-eyed, clearly smitten. Sevika winked at her mid-solo, earning a squeal of delight.

The blonde wasn’t alone. Throughout the set, Sevika’s gaze darted to other fans, offering winks, smirks, and sly nods that made them swoon. You rolled your eyes. If there was one thing you could spot from a mile away, it was a player.

Still, it was hard to ignore how ridiculously good she was. The music, the stage presence, the way her guitar seemed like an extension of her body—it all left you equal parts impressed and annoyed.

When the final chord rang out and Vi shouted, “Thank you, everyone! We love you!” the venue exploded into applause. The band left the stage to thunderous cheers, and you followed a staff member toward the backstage area.

The energy there was different—no less chaotic, but tinged with satisfaction. Roadies darted around, packing up equipment, while the band members moved in different directions. Vi disappeared into a side room, and Caitlyn sat on a small couch, sipping water and scrolling through her phone.

“Y/N!” Caitlyn called, smiling as she saw you approach. She set her water aside and stood, still slightly out of breath.

“Well?” she asked, brushing her hair out of her face. “What’d you think?”

“They’re loud,” you teased, but your grin betrayed your real feelings. “Seriously, though, you were amazing. The keys? Perfect.”

Caitlyn beamed, her posture relaxing. “Thanks, but it’s not just me. We all pulled it off tonight. Thanks for coming—it means a lot.”

Before you could reply, you caught movement out of the corner of your eye. Sevika, leaning against the doorway, her guitar slung casually over her back, chatting with two fans who had somehow found their way backstage.

She was all charm—grinning, nodding, brushing her hand along her jaw in a way that screamed calculated. The fans giggled, hanging onto her every word.

“Does she ever stop?” you muttered, mostly to yourself.

Caitlyn followed your gaze and groaned. “That’s Sev for you. She doesn’t know the meaning of ‘off the clock.’”

“Clearly,” you said, rolling your eyes.

As if on cue, Sevika turned her attention from the fans and strolled toward you. Her smirk was as infuriating up close as it was on stage.

“And what about me?” Sevika asked, her voice low and smooth. “Did I kill it tonight?”

You crossed your arms, refusing to give her the reaction you knew she was fishing for. “You were fine.”

“Fine?” she echoed, placing a hand over her heart as if you’d wounded her. “That’s all I get?”

“I’m not one of your groupies,” you shot back, your tone flat.

Sevika chuckled, stepping closer. “No, you’re not. You’re… different.”

Her gaze lingered, intense and unrelenting, and for a moment, you felt your cheeks flush. Annoyed at your own reaction, you rolled your eyes.

“Keep working on it,” you said sharply, before pulling out your phone and seeing the time. It was pass midnight. Shit. You had a promotional event early in the morning.

“I’m sorry, Cait. But I’ve gotta go,” You say with a playful pout before giving her a goodbye hug.

“It’s okay. I’ll text you and most importantly text me when you get home,” Caitlyn says as she hugged you back.

You both pulled away “Yes mam. I will,” you say.

As you turn towards the door, Sevika steps into your way with a teasing smirk. “Leaving so soon?” she asked, her voice low.

“Some of us have responsibilities,” you replied coolly, slipping your phone into your pocket.

She leaned against a nearby wall, her eyes trailing over you in a way that felt deliberate. “What, no time for a drink? A little post-show celebration?”

You crossed your arms, tilting your head. “Do all your ‘post-show celebrations’ involve swooning fans and scribbled phone numbers, or do I get a special offer?”

Her grin widened, her gaze steady. “Depends. Are you interested in being special?”

You laughed softly, shaking your head. “You’re persistent. I’ll give you that.”

“Just calling it like I see it,” Sevika replied, stepping closer. “And I see someone who might enjoy a little fun if she let herself.”

You met her gaze, and for a moment, you let a sly smile tug at your lips. “You’re confident, I’ll give you that. But I’m not as easy to impress as your fan club.”

Sevika chuckled, the sound low and rich. “That’s what makes it interesting.”

You stepped closer, brushing past her shoulder as you made your way toward the exit. “Interesting’s a good start, but you’ll have to try harder than that.”

She turned, her smirk faltering for the first time, as if she hadn’t expected you to turn the tables.

Pausing at the doorway, you glanced back, your eyes meeting hers. “Good luck with the next one, rockstar. I’ve got places to be.”

And with that, you disappeared down the hallway, leaving her standing there, her smirk replaced by something more thoughtful.

As you made your way toward the exit, you allowed yourself a small smile. Flirting with Sevika was like playing with fire, but there was something undeniably satisfying about leaving her wondering.

Tomorrow would be busy, but tonight, you couldn’t help but savor the small victory.

mini taglist: @gracie-gloom @swordfemm4 @m00npjm 🎸❤️

[writeriguess]

Ghost x soap x reader but no one knows about reader yet and the boys are just getting home from a mission and Johnny gets a call telling him to come down to the police station to pick you up and they refuse to get him any context so he tells ghost they have to hurry and they somehow all just end up going and even they get there they see their sweet curvy little alt princess waiting for them only to find out she knocked some guy out that tried to robe her

Trouble in Fishnets

The hum of the aircraft was familiar, a soothing backdrop to the quiet relief of another mission done and dusted. Ghost sat in his seat, arms crossed over his chest, letting the post-op exhaustion settle into his bones. Soap, ever restless, was flicking through his phone, sighing now and then at the lack of decent signal.

They were almost home when the call came through.

Soap’s brows furrowed at the unknown number, but he answered anyway. “MacTavish.”

A tired-sounding voice crackled over the line. “Sergeant MacTavish, this is Officer Reynolds with the—”

Soap immediately sat up straighter. “Aye, what’s this about?”

“We need you to come to the station.”

Ghost turned his head at that, eyes sharp beneath his mask. Soap shot him a quick glance but focused back on the call. “What for?”

The officer exhaled like they’d had a long night. “We can’t give details over the phone, but you’re listed as the emergency contact.”

That made the air in the cabin shift. Ghost sat forward now, boots planting firmly on the floor, tension running through his frame.

Soap’s stomach twisted. “They alright?”

“She’s fine,” the officer said, but the words didn’t exactly make Soap feel better. “Just get here.”

The line went dead.

Soap was already unbuckling himself before the aircraft had fully landed, muttering a string of curses under his breath. Ghost followed suit, only asking, “Who?”

Soap looked over at him, eyes flickering with something uncertain. “Her.”

Ghost didn’t need any more than that.

The ride to the station was quiet, save for the tapping of Soap’s fingers against his knee. Ghost, ever the observer, could see the way his jaw was tight, the muscle ticking slightly as he chewed over worst-case scenarios.

Ghost wasn’t far off from those thoughts himself.

Neither of them spoke, but when they stepped into the station, the sheer force of their presence turned heads. A few officers stiffened at the sight of them—one masked man and another who looked just as intimidating in his own way.

Soap was seconds from slamming his hands down on the counter when a weary-looking officer behind the desk recognized him. “Sergeant MacTavish?”

“Aye,” Soap said, clipped. “Where is she?”

The officer barely had time to answer before Ghost nudged Soap’s arm, nodding toward the waiting area.

There you were.

Sitting cross-legged on a metal bench like you had all the time in the world. Your ripped jeans and fishnets showed off the curve of your thighs, and your oversized band tee hung just right off one shoulder. Your boots tapped idly against the floor, and despite the faint smudge of your lipstick, you looked… fine.

Better than fine. Relaxed, even.

Soap let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. “Jesus, love, you nearly gave me a fuckin’ heart attack.”

Your eyes flicked up, lighting up when you saw them. “Johnny! Took you long enough.”

Soap’s hands found his hips as he shook his head, more exasperated than anything. “What the hell happened?”

Before you could answer, the officer who had called Soap stepped forward with a folder. “She’s free to go. It was self-defense.”

Ghost finally spoke, voice low and edged with curiosity. “Against who?”

The officer pinched the bridge of his nose. “Some guy tried to mug her.”

Soap blinked. “And?”

“She knocked him out cold.”

Silence.

Then—

Soap let out a low whistle. Ghost exhaled what might’ve been a short laugh.

You rolled your eyes. “It wasn’t that big of a deal.”

“Not that big of a—” Soap ran a hand down his face before crouching in front of you, eyes scanning your face and hands for any sign of injury. His thumb brushed over your knuckles, which were slightly red but otherwise fine. “Did you punch him?”

You shrugged. “More like elbowed. He got too close, so I put him down.”

Ghost crossed his arms. “How?”

Your lips twitched. “You wanna see a reenactment?”

Soap snorted, but Ghost only tilted his head. “You trained with us long enough. I shouldn’t be surprised.”

The officer, who had been listening to this entire exchange with increasing disbelief, finally handed Soap the paperwork. “She’s good to go. Just… maybe tell her not to cause any more trouble?”

Soap smirked as he pulled you to your feet. “Aye, good luck with that.”

Ghost, still watching you, let out a low hum. “We’ll talk about what ‘self-defense’ means when we get home.”

You grinned up at him. “Jealous I got to him first?”

Soap laughed, throwing an arm around your shoulders as he led you toward the exit. “C’mon, princess. Let’s get you home before you start takin’ out more poor bastards.”

Ghost followed, shaking his head slightly. He should’ve known that their sweet little alt princess wasn’t as fragile as she looked.

And, if he was being honest?

He was damn proud.

[angels-fantasy]

Omg, CONGRATULATIONS LITTLE BEAN 🎉 I'm so so happy and proud of you ❤️ Your writing is great, and I can't wait to see you expand and unleash your creativity even more!

I'd love to ask for "asking them what they first thought of you" with either Bakugo or Dani, whatever suits you better 🫰🏻

Asking Them What They First Thought Of You

Katsuki Bakugou x Reader

Dabi/Touya Todoroki x Reader

Details: mm nothing crazy but bakugou drops the L WORD also dabi might be ooc 😪

Word Count: 531

HII omg thank you for this request and kind message tee hee im so sorry i responded late T^T so i will give you both dabi and bakugou!!

Dabi:

"hey dabi, what did you think about me when we first met?"

dabi's face scrunched up at that question. he didn't really remember, if he was being completely honest, he just knew he was extremely wary of you since he didn't know anything about you at the time.

but, he did notice that you didn't let his distant personality bother you, and that meant something to him.

he played with a lock of your hair, twirling it around his fingers as he thought of an answer. "i dunno, i just know i didn't trust you." he said, making you frown up at him.

"you can't be a little more romantic about it?" you grumbled, making him let out a husky laugh.

"sorry, romance isn't really my thing. but if it makes you feel better, i did think you were hot."

you smacked him on the shoulder, "shut up!"

he hissed, "ouch, you pack a punch huh?"

you humphed and flexed your arm, "you bet i do."

he laughed lightly and looked up at the ceiling, "seriously though, i didn't trust you at all in the beginning and i definitely thought you were attractive... but then you helped me learn how to trust you, so i started to think of you as a good person. better than me, at least."

since dabi was looking away, he didn't notice the tears welling up in your eyes and only realized you were crying when he heard you sniffle.

"dabi! that's so sweet." you cried, "y-you've never said anything so cute before."

he groaned, "yes i have!"

you ignored his words and wiped your nose on his shoulder, making him sigh.

Katsuki:

"katsuki! what did you think about me when we first met?"

"i thought you were annoying." he replied immediately, making you pout.

"be serious! i know you don't mean that."

he sighed and closed his eyes while he thought of an answer, opening them a few seconds later and turning to face you.

"i guess i thought you were pretty interesting, unlike every other extra we know-"

"what have i told you about calling people extras?" you asked, cutting him off and making him grumble.

"anyways - you weren't as annoying or dumb as everyone else so i allowed you around me." he said and crossed his arms.

you wrapped your arms around his shoulders and laid your head on one of them, "are you sure it wasn't my good looks and charming personality?"

he smiled and moved you around slightly so he could wrap his arms around you instead. "maybe that was a part of it, but only a little bit." he teased.

you laughed, knowing he was only messing with you.

he smiled at your laughter, happy that you knew he was joking with you. that was something that a lot of people misunderstood about him. qmost of the time his harsh words and tone had no meaning behind them, but not everyone knew that. so when you came around and you immediately caught onto that, he knew he had to keep you around.

"love you kats" you said, voice muffled by his chest that you were squished in.

"mm, love ya too."

authors note

i hope you enjoyed :')

taglist for bakugou fics: @doumadono @shonen-brainrot @b134ch-m4h-ey3z

[eevees-hobbies]

Hello! 1. your writing is AMAZING and 2. Sorry for this long request.

Can I request experienced!Reader x virgin!Sakura smut (or you can make it that he doesn't have that much experience as the reader). Sakura and the reader have always done things like heavy makeout sessions and him receiving bjs. He starts to feel bad because he hasn't eaten her out yet and he doesn't want to disappoint her, she always tells him to take things at his pace and that she will always be there for him when he's ready to take things further. So he asks the guys for advice on how to eat her out and then during movie date night at her place he's acting more flustered/nervous than usual and she notices. He then confesses that he wants her to feel pleasure to and that the reason why he hasn't done it yet is because he doesn't want to disappoint her but he wants to try and eat her out. You can have them go all the way after or just leave it at that. I'll be happy either way😊😊. Thank you in advance!!!

Author’s Note: Thank you so much for your kind words! This was fun to write and I hope you enjoy this. I’ll always enjoy writing for Haru, so this request was very much appreciated.

Synopsis: Sakura loves the fuck out of you, so maybe that’s why he’s asking his friend, Hayato Suo, to help him get better at initiating oral sex. Totally normal things happen to an orange, but it’s all worth it in the end, right?

Content Warning:  experienced!FemReader x inexperienced!Sakura. defiling of fruit, sexual education in a public place, pray (and perform a wellness check) for Suo’s girlfriend, dirty talk, insecure Sakura, harmless teasing, use of pet name baby girl, cocky Sakura makes an appearance at the end (because I can’t help myself), I curse a lot in my writing, cunnilingus, fingering, brief p in v. I’m on my usual bullshit, but at least the writers block is gone! Minors Do Not Interact.

Word Count: 3.1K

Story banner by me. Dividers by Firefly Graphics. As always, likes, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated!

“The first time we held hands, I thought my head would explode.”

“I see. Go on…”

“The first time we made out, I….” Sakura looks away, a crimson blush making its way past the collar of his white tee and up his neck. “I could hear my heart beating in my ears or somethin’ cliche like that.”

Suo couldn’t help but feel the corner of his mouth twitch upward at his inexperienced friend’s confession. Still, he knew better than to poke at Sakura. He was attempting to be supportive, and supportive friends don’t tease their friends during bouts of insecurity—much. When Suo had received a text message from Sakura the night before indicating that he had an urgent request, he knew he had to temper his usual faux-cheerful demeanor and provide his friend with whatever he needed.

But he wasn’t expecting this conversation.

Sakura shifts uncomfortably in the booth across from Hayato, his eyes now darting down to his knuckles, which always seem permanently purple and red with bruises and fresh knicks. “And the first time she….you know…”

Suo’s eyebrow quirks up, expecting Sakura to elaborate further, but he doesn’t. To prompt Sakura to continue, Suo clears his throat and carefully navigates the next sentence, “I don’t really know what you mean, Sakura. Care to be a bit more specific?”

Sakura lets out a frustrated scoff, but he knows that if he wants Suo to help him, he’s going to need to give him details—details that he had fully intended to always go to the grave with.

“The first time she gave me head…”

The cup of tea that Suo was bringing up to his lips shakes ever so slightly, but he offers a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes and provides a supportive nod. 

“Oh?”

Sakura sighs, figuring it’s too late to hold back now; he dives into the issue, ready to be judged at best, and laughed out of the restaurant at worst. “The first time she gave me head, I swear to fuckin’ god, if there is a god, I fell in love. But she’s always….doing stuff to me, and I haven’t done much for her.”

Suo nods, places his cup of tea down, and looks thoughtfully at his friend. “Sounds like you’d like to return her…kind gestures.”

Sakura runs a hand through his hair and nods, “Yeah, that’s it. I want to do stuff to her instead of her doing stuff to me, but I don’t know how to-”

“Initiate?”

“Sure.”

The silence that settles between the two is deafening. Sakura shifts uncomfortably in his seat, and Suo can’t help but look at his friend with sympathetic eyes. Usually, he’s the first one to tease Sakura, especially involving his relationship with you, but this feels different. Suo’s eyes wandered to an orange currently serving as a garnish on the small plate of untouched Omi Rice Sakura had ordered. “May I?’

Sakura shrugs, unsure what he plans to do with a piece of fruit. Doesn’t he see that he’s in crisis and Vitamin C can wait?

Suo grabs a knife and cuts the citrus down the middle, exposing the soft center. Discarding one half, he holds up the other to curious, dual-colored eyes. “Do we need to go over the basics of female anatomy? Like the labia and clitoris?”

Sakura sputters as he hears his friend say words he’s only heard you—his girlfriend—say. His eyes dart to the nearest escape route, but Suo's firm kick under the table brings his attention back to the scene in front of him. Sakura looks away in frustration and gives a curt nod, indicating that, at the very least, he could point to certain parts of your body and identify them.

He wasn’t THAT far gone. 

Suo nods, “Well, I’d say the battle is half-won, then. Let’s talk about what women like, shall we?”

Suo brings a finger up to the center of the orange where the small opening glistens with droplets of juice that are now dripping languidly down his fingers. The scene before Sakura is practically obscene, and the irony of Suo using fruit for his sexual education lesson that looks similar to your intimate area does not fly over his head, even though he wishes it did. 

As Suo points to the plump center, his finger gently strokes the small hole. “Some people immediately think it’s a good idea to force their fingers in with little thought to foreplay, but that’s crude, hostile, and not the trait of a good partner. In fact, bullying your fingers in could very well hurt her, so I personally like to take a few hours to get my girlfriend aroused.”

Hours?! Sakura doesn’t think he can come near being the type of libido-beast that Suo is. He briefly gives a silent prayer for his friend's partner but leans in nonetheless to listen intently.

“Now, the tip of your tongue can be rather overstimulating at first, so remember that the clitoris deserves to be kissed, too. Your lips are your ally.”

Sakura swallows thickly as he tunes in and watches his friend defile an orange in Cafe Pothos. As his cheeks burn, his fingers twitch, and his cock hardens as Suo goes into great detail about how much pressure the clitoris can take. Sakura can’t help but think that he must be absolutely, horrendously down bad for you to deal with this shit.

“I can’t BELIEVE she was Lady Whistledown this entire time!” 

You reach for the remote to select the next episode of Bridgerton, but a lack of response from Sakura, who is sitting on the couch next to you, causes you to look over. You can sense that what you just said didn’t register because he seems lost in thought, his thumb placed between his upper and lower canines as he chews on the skin aggressively.

“Kitten?” You turn your entire body to face him, worry already etching across your face. 

His eyes look up at you, and the faraway look quickly dissipates as he gives you a grunt.

“You’ve been distracted all night. Should we head to bed, or can we talk about it?” You offer him a gentle smile, hoping the bond you share will be stronger than any secret he may be keeping from you. You watch as he visibly swallows, his adam’s able bobbing as he turns to you, and he lowers his now mangled thumb to rest in his lap. The way he avoids eye contact, the way the air now feels somewhat stale with unspoken words, has your breathing slowing and you preparing to hear the worst. 

“Let me…eat you out.”

You blink once, twice, and then several more times as you stare at each other. You place a gentle hand on his knee, and your confused eyes meet his vulnerable ones. “Sakura, what the absolute fuck?”

He rolls his eyes and crosses his arms over his chest. You can see a pout practically form on his lips as he fights the urge to end the conversation. But Sakura is a man on a mission, and he continues. You have to lean in to hear what he mumbles but as his mouth moves, you realize you heard him clearly the first time. “You give me head almost every day. I’m tired of not reciprocating.”

Everyday, Sakura? Let’s be real. Sure, you like giving your boyfriend head but your jaw isn’t permanently attached to his cock. You give him a blank stare before responding and trying to keep your voice light and without a hint of sarcasm–and god, you REALLY want to be sarcastic right now but you’re a good girlfriend.

“Sakura, our relationship isnt about keeping score, especially in regards to our intimacy. I don’t count how many blowjobs I give you,” you pause as you realize you just spoke a lie. “Well, maybe I do count, but only because I have an ego, and I’m trying to beat a number I set in my head.”

Sakura’s eyes squint and he holds back the urge to ask further questions about your perverted personal goals. “That’s so weird. Anyway, it isn’t about any of that. I want to do it. I think about doing it a lot.”

You tilt your head to the side, your ear facing him a bit more because did your boyfriend, the one who was emotionally stunted when you met him, admit to fantasizing about you? “You think about eating me out? Say more, please.”

“Fuuuuuck, why are you so-. Fine! I think about it when you’re on the couch with your legs spread–I mean, sure, it isn’t lady-like–but it’s hot and I think about just getting on my knees and…”

“I might pop you for the lady-like comment but I’ll refrain because you made me tingle.”

“Shut up and…spread your legs.”

You purse your lips, stifling a giddy giggle at your boyfriend using his stern voice. You shimmy out of your sleep shorts and throw them haphazardly to a corner to be forgotten about until who-knows-when. 

Putting on a brave front, and as though he’s done this many times before, Sakura rises from the couch and perches himself between your legs with his knees firmly placed on the plush rug on the floor.

You bite your lip—his gaze is unyielding and smoldering. You aren’t surprised at how hot your face is getting under his stare; it’s almost enough to make you clamp your legs shut and call the whole thing off, but you couldn’t if you wanted to as his hands, which are placed firmly against your inner thighs, grip you like you’re being held open in stirrups. 

“It's nothing like an orange…”

“A what!?”

Before you can say anything and before you can back out, Sakura is leaning forward, his breath is hot and fanning against your labia. For some reason, you need to look anywhere but at the top of his head as his tongue slips past your folds and swirls small circles around your clit. His hesitancy is palpable, making you a bit insecure until he pulls back, an earnest but determined look in his eyes, “Am I doing ok? Does this feel…right? I’m trying to imagine an orange, but it’s completely different.”

Weird recurring comments about oranges aside, you realize he’s not hesitant because of you. He’s hesitant because he’s worried that he isn’t doing a good job. He’s hesitant because, above all else, Haruka will always desire to impress and please you, and anything less is unacceptable to him. His inexperience has always been a non-issue for you, but to him, it’s a crutch and another way he feels like he doesn’t deserve you. 

Your gaze softens and you give him an encouraging smile. “You’re doing amazing, Kitten.”

The corner of his mouth twitches upward and with a dignified nod, he dives back between your thighs. Your praise fuels his desire to please you—and that fire burns bright, and the cautious licks before are replaced with suckles and tongue swipes that are far more confident. 

Your head falls back to rest against the cushiony headrest of the couch. Your hand finds the back of his head and pushes him in further, encouraging him to get lost in you and risk drowning. Sakura doesn’t mind the threat of suffocation as he considers it a worthy way to go. Still, he thinks you’re getting a little too cocky, and humbling you is his favorite pastime, so the gesture earns a playful nip to your thigh from Haruka, which in turn makes you giggle.

“Can’t you be serious for once? I’m trying to eat you out down here.”

“Don’t talk with your mouth full, Kitten.” Despite your snarky come-back, you give him an encouraging moan that’s brought upon by open-mouthed kisses against your clit. Sakura willingly entwines his long fingers with yours, his thumb tenderly stroking the inside of your palm.

His other hands grips the plush of one of your thighs and pushes them forward, pressing them against your stomach and allowing himself the unbridled access he craves to get as deep as his tongue will reach. His licks become far more aggressive as he takes the time to map out your cunt through eager exploration. He commits every one of your sinful moans and gasps to his memory and revels in the way in which you get increasingly louder for him. 

Each one of your cries makes his cock twitch, and he finds himself having to adjust himself in his jeans. The scent of you, the sound of you, is simply intoxicating. You, to Haruka Sakura, are everything and then some. Your pleasure is his pleasure and he’s going to take that fact out on your cunt which is growing increasingly more sloppy just for him. 

Something that felt intimidating only hours ago now feels natural to Sakura as he drags his tongue across your clit, smirking as he feels it swell and twitch under the assault of his muscle. 

“You’re dripping for me. We might need a new couch after I’m done with you.” 

You can’t help but roll your eyes because fuck, why is he so-oh! Yeah, that’s the spot. You nod in agreement as you spread your legs wider to give him better access. “Y-yeah, a trip to IKEA is definitely in the future, I think.” Without little to no warning, he pushes two fingers into you so deeply that his knuckles kiss your entrance. Haruka’s fingers curl, and the sound of him twisting them inside you makes a lewd, wet sound, the kind that would make anyone blush. 

The pads of his fingers rub against the bundle of nerves deep within your aching sex. Sakura lets out a satisfied grunt as he strokes the spongy bundle of ridges. He doesn’t need an orange to see that this is what you like, all he needs to do is look down at the way your toes curl or watch as your eyes roll back and you bite into the plush of your bottom lip.

“Holy fuckin’…just relax for me. Don’t act like we haven’t been here before, at least.”

You let out a pathetic whimper, the sensation of being filled up almost threatening to push you over the edge, and he fucking knows it. He’s doing this on purpose, stroking you like this, making you more sensitive than you already are as you drip into the palm of his hand.

You look down to give him a glare, but you can’t help the squeak that leaves your lips—his intense gaze is set on you and threatening to light you ablaze. He stands up so that he’s kneeling over you, his face mere inches from yours, as he continues to push and pull his fingers in and out of your fluttering sex. 

“Look at you….a fuckin’ mess. Look me in my eyes while you use my fingers to get off.” His eyes are scanning your face in predatory reverence, they flicker down to your lips as you let out a low guttural moan. “That’s it, baby girl. Cum for me.”

Your heart palpitates dangerously as he uses a pet name that feels so intimate you want to melt into the couch. Your bottom lip quivers as you begin to buck your hips to meet the motion of his fingers, but it’s hard to keep up when he’s finger fucking you like he owns every inch of your cunt.

“Tch, what are you trying to prove by holding out?” His lips ghost against the sensitive skin of your earlobe, his tongue darting out to lick and suckle at the sensitive flesh. 

“You’re practically milking my fingers right now. You like every single inch that I give you, don’t you? You get so hungry for just a touch.” His voice is husky, his words only making you ache and arch more as the cocky, ex-Bofurin leader goads you on.

His mouth finds its way to the curve of your neck as he presses his lips against your quickened pulse. The proximity and gesture feels tender until you feel his teeth sinking into your skin, sending a delicious, searing pain shooting through your very being. “Cum like a good girl so I can bend you over this fuckin’ couch.” His voice is hoarse and coursing with his desire for you, and he’s not asking you to let go for him, he’s demanding it.

Your face, despite being contorted into pleasure, heats up because who the fuck talks like that? 

Haruka Sakura does. 

You groan, pressing the palm of your hand against the nape of his neck and pull him forward so you can give him the physical and verbal praise he seeks–your moans fill his mouth and your hips grind against his hand to roll out your orgasm in desperation. He eagerly presses his palm against your clit, adding more pressure to the sensitive bud that takes your breath away as he continues his curling, pushing, and pulling of his fingers.

You let out a final moan into his mouth and the smirk that forms on his lips as they press against yours does not go unnoticed. You haven’t realized it, or maybe you have, but at that moment, you created a monster. He now knows you better than he ever did and will use it against you every chance he can. He may be unable to commit to hours of foreplay, but he can guarantee that every second in which he’ll have you spread open for him will have you looking at him exactly as you’re looking at him right now. He’s committed to your pleasure moving forward and makes absolutely no apologies for it. 

“Theeeeere she goes. Now was that so hard?” Your half-lidded gaze meets his arrogant and pleased one as he pulls away, his hands already moving to unbutton his jeans. “Guess I’ll start to keep a number in my head to beat now, too.” 

You don’t have time to react before he’s turning you around and positioning so that you're offering yourself up to him and he’s adjusting himself between your spread legs.

And Sakura is truly pleased with himself as he places a hand on your lower back to steady you as he slides into your welcoming warmth. His eyes roll back because you fit him sooooo fucking well. Like a goddamn glove, and fuck, you feel even better with his saliva dripping out of you. 

Who the fuck needs store-bought lubricant when you could just produce your own with spit? Moving forward, Sakura fully intends to put Astroglide out of business. 

As the loud squelches and airy sounds of his cock spreading you in half fills the air, Sakura reflects on how he got here. 

He can’t help but give a mental thanks to the orange that made this all possible–and he guesses, also Suo, but mostly the orange.

[moralesmilesanhour]

teamwork (makes the dream work...?) epilogue

summary: they ass is NOT doing homework 🤣

wc: 1k+

A/N: That's a wrap, guys! tysm for reading and enjoying!

prev 'if you believe in me'

“Miles, what is this emo shit you got me listening to?” you laughed.

Miles was currently in the middle of an imaginary drumming solo next to you, with two mechanical pencils as drumsticks. Once the final cymbal crashed, he turned to you to respond.

“I don’t give a fuck if it’s emo, that beat goes crazy. You done with your conclusion yet?” 

You rolled your eyes.

“No, but I’ve got all my body paragraphs together.”

“That shit is due Monday,” the boy adjusted his glasses, “Mr. Padilla don’t do extensions.”

Shutting your laptop in protest, you got up and stretched your arms. “Can we take, like, a ten-minute break?”

Miles smirked. “The last half hour felt like a ‘break’, but sure.”

The smirk fell from his face when he noticed you staring at something on his desk.

“Aye, don’t touch nothing–”

“Is this me?”

Too late.

Miles’ notebook was already in your hands, flipped to a page full of sketches of your face. There were little lines scratched out next to each sketch, as if he were measuring the proportions of your eyes, nose, ears... 

His lines were sharp and geometrical, as always, but they softened at your hair and lips. Speaking of lips, there was an oddly-detailed sketch of them off to the side. He’d even managed to include the suggestion of gloss.

You looked up to see Miles standing in front of you with his arms crossed, expression unreadable. 

“You done invading my privacy yet?” 

“Nope,” you placed a finger on the page. “How long did you need to stare at my face for this?”

You held back a laugh when he tensed visibly.

“Not long enough for it to matter,” he deadpanned, finally snatching the notebook out of your hand. “It was just a study.”

“Oh, so you’ve been ‘studying’ my lips? Got it.”

Miles’ eyes flickered down at them as you spoke before he returned to his spot on the bed. “Whatever. Break’s over.”

“Aw, don’t be like that,” you teased as you followed him, “the drawings are nice! You made me look prettier.”

The boy looked at you like he wanted to say something - to argue - but he remained silent. You elbowed him playfully in the side.

“What, you think I’m ugly, then? I’m telling you, Morales, one day we gon’ fight–”

“No,” he interrupted.

“Complete sentences, please,” you mimicked, laughing when the boy sucked his teeth in response.

“Fine. No, you’re not ugly, and I like drawing you. Can we move on?”

With a triumphant smile, you finally cracked open your laptop again. “Yes, yes we can. I need your genius powers to proofread this for me.”

Miles leaned in to get a good look at your screen, hitting you with the crisp scent of sports deodorant and some generic brand of lotion. You watched his eyes dart back and forth as he read your work out loud to himself in a low mutter. While he read, your gaze drifted away from the screen and landed on his side profile. His ears were now delightfully occupied by tiny gold studs that you would’ve missed at a farther distance. Past his jawline at the nape of his neck, a thin gold chain peeked out at you from beneath his black graphic tee.

Your eyes met Miles’ the moment you brought them back up to his face, amusement playing on his features.

“Yo, are you good? There something on my shirt?”

“Nope,” you shook your head. “Go back to reading.”

He raised an eyebrow. “I’m done. I just said you need to switch these two body paragraphs so they flow better.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, ‘oh’,” he laughed, dimples on display. “I’m scared I’mma get my face stolen one day. Do you stare at everybody like that?”

A beat of silence passed as you considered whether to say something bold a second time, if not just for a reaction.

“...Nah, it’s just you.”

Miles blinked, the smile dropping from his face. “Huh?”

“You’re nice to look at, and I can’t draw you in my notebook to make it last longer,” you tilted your head comically. “Staring will have to do.”

Like clockwork, the boy’s hand shot up to his ear to toy with his piercing. He glanced out of the window. 

“The sun’s setting, you should really get that essay done,” he blurted out before narrowing his eyes at you. “What’s so funny?”

You had a hand over your mouth to stifle the laughter. “I’m sorry,” you giggled, “it’s funny when you’re nervous.”

Miles scoffed.

“I’m not nervous.”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night,” you sang, beginning to type your conclusion paragraph.

There was no response. 

Your typing slowed as the silence grew long, feeling Miles’ eyes on you until you finally stopped to look at him quizzically.

“Yes?”

“You don’t believe me?”

“Can’t say that I do.”

He leaned in closer until your noses were in danger of brushing each other, looking determined despite the rapid rise and fall of his chest. You met his gaze with a challenge.

“Well? You just gon’ sit there?”

Miles couldn’t hear anything above the heartbeat pounding in his ears, his eyes squeezed shut as he closed the distance between you. 

No one told him that kissing would feel this weird.

For one, your lip gloss wasn’t half as sticky as he’d anticipated it to be, tasting like artificial fruit flavoring. Your sweaty palm came up to rest on the side of his face and kept him anchored as his breath stuttered. Having no idea where he would put his hands (another thing no one had explained to him), he kept them flat on the mattress for support as you deepened the kiss and he leaned back. 

Your hand was gripping his chin now to guide his face. Having kissed at least two other boys before, you had a vague idea of where it was supposed to go. Unlike the other two, Miles was tense, almost unmoving, despite being the initiator.  

Miles’ head buzzed when you pulled away, chuckling softly.

What the hell was so funny? The boy felt white hot blood rapidly coursing through all of the veins in his body at once. He thought he might start floating, like a hot air balloon. Or explode. Or vomit. Preferably the first one.

“Are you okay?” you asked, dropping your hand. “You look like you’re about to faint.”

He blinked slowly, three times. “Yeah, I’m…fine.”

“You sure?”

“I’m sure. That was, um…” 

Hand on the neck. “Interesting.”

“A good interesting, I hope,” you laughed.

Miles tilted his head, a small grin spreading across his lips.

“I don’t think I’d mind doing that again.”

Handing the boy your phone, you said, “I think you’d need my number for that.”

-

[blankwashed]

TOJI FUSHIGURO - SLUTTIN’ IN THE CAFE

“mmm yes cling on to me baby, you’re so fucking wet for me y’know?” he tightens his grip around your neck. “ma fucken’ slut aren’t ya? drippin’ wet before the store closes, before daddy can feast on ya….”

your only reply was to yell moan at the pleasure your boyfriend was giving you. his large hands were snaking up your shirt, cold hands touching your hot flesh making you shriek. you needed him, you needed his thick cock sliding down your throat as you gasp for more.

“s-so cold…” you mumbled, just a whisper to him. toji smirked at how fucked up you were at this point. breathless, dripping and shameless. the shutters to the cafe weren’t brought down yet, giving a possibility to whoever would walk pass the store late at night.

“ya like it don’t cha? hmm?” he peppered kisses on your neck to your sternum. “wanna be a little public swinger, huh?”

you were lost for words, eyes and mouth drooling with tears and saliva. all you could do was to nod, unsure of what he would do next. looking into his green alluring eyes that hinted on years of experience and wisdom. they were telling you a story that only you could fulfil.

toji’s smirk darkened and licked his lips sensually, “but all of this..” he referred to your clothed body, “is mine. no one else gets to see what you have beneath your clothes other than me, doll.”

he didn’t like how you were silent and gave your ponytail a tug, making you yelp. “c’mon doll, you can do better than that can’t you? show daddy how he’s making ya feel,” toji continues as his face was centimetres away from yours. your heart was beating so fast as if it was on a race track and you were sweating with drops trickling from your forehead.

you tried to unleash yourself from his grasp, only inches away from him. as each button was removed, you noticed his breath was getting heavier and louder, as if he was a jaguar ready to pounce on its prey…before he stopped you.

“leave ya apron on, doll.”

confused, you followed his orders, stripping yourself naked except for the pink frilly hello kitty apron.

“…like this, daddy?” you asked, timidly but also clearly flustered. toji nodded and lifted your chin up with his hand, “perfect, kitten.” he said.

you suddenly were anxious, worried that security or the boss of the cafe were to step in unannounced. your eyebrows furrowed and you bit your lip while looking back and forth from the windows to toji.

he noticed your worry but only gave out a chuckle, “doll, im not going to close the doors tonight. because….you’ve been a bad, bad girl..”. you were confused, bad? what did you do today? all you did was serve drinks and cakes to the customers.

“b-but daddy, i didn’t do anything!” you tried to voice out but all that came out was a squeak. your unoccupied hands were playing with the frills of your apron.

“oh where should i start, doll?” he brought his hands to your waist, bringing you closer to him, ass facing his cock. he ground his hard cock against your dripping hole, making you whimper. “you were wearing a low-cut shirt today, weren’t cha? were you trying to tease me or to get me angry huh doll?” he growled into your ear.

it was true, you did wear the low-cut tee to tease him but you didn’t know this was what you were going to get. “s-sorry daddy! n-no more, i wont do it anymore i promise! i’ve learnt my lesson, please dadd-!” you cried out as loud as you could. as you were whimpering, toji gave your round ass a loud smack.

“AH!” your tears flowing even more at the impact of his hand.

“this has happened to you before my sweet doll, haven’t you learnt your lesson yet? or are ya trynna get daddy angry again?” he leans closer to your face after turning you around. gripping your face with his hands, you were able to see each detail of his muscular face.

you knew that the only way you were able to make him forget about your misbehaviour was to suck his cock. but..with the windows and door unlocked?

it doesn’t matter to you anymore whether anyone saw your public display of sex. if you don’t please daddy, he’s going to ruin you. kneeling down on nothing else other than the cafe’s floors, you brought down his jogger pants, always a choice for toji who has a thicc dick. its loose enough to hide his dick when he’s hard.

“fuckin’ slut…only thing you wanna do is suck me off, don’t you? such a fuckin’ slut, should tie you to my dick next time…” this wasn’t his protest but it made you salivate more. toji brought his hands to grasp your hair into a pony tail again, “girl, i think you’ve got to bring your hair up more next time..its going to make everything easier y’know?”

nodding, you started to take inches of him into your throat. his cock was hitting the back of your throat causing you to gag and make sounds that were music to his ears. “faster, bitch. and use ya hands..do i have to teach ya everythin’ again?” he mocked you while you were a slobbering mess, eyelash fallen to god knows where.

your mind only had past memories of toji cumming right on your pussy, your stomach, your face, your bed, you name it. it was fuel for you to help him teach his peak. on the other hand, you felt so dirty having his rough hands around your private parts. his tongue drooled on the pink nub of your pussy.

he’s nose deep into your soft pussy folds. “oh daddy, when have you not made me feel good?” you let out a sigh while letting his cock out of your mouth. you were unruly at this point, with only one goal in your mind, to make him cum all over your face.

toji was having his hands in your hair, bringing your face closer to his torso. the veins of his cock, bulging, ready to burst at any time. the cold air from the air-conditioning hitting your perky nipples, making them irresistible to toji.

“mmm daddy, cum already…my mouth’s tired..” you pouted, mouth away from his dick but your hands still jacking him off.

“ya’ sure? want me to cum already, dirty slut? c’mere” toji aligned himself, millimeters away your ass. he also knows how much you love it when he smacks your ass, he gropes and places his fingers through your hole. as he pummeled his cock deep into you, you let out throat screams of “ow!” and “ahh!”s.

“too much fo’yah, kitten? gotten so tight..stranglin' daddy's cock” he smirked and continue drilling till you became limp in his hands.

it was too much for you, the public sex, his large hands touching your skin. “fuck daddy…i’m coming, please please let me cum daddy!” you shouted while trying to grip onto any of his flesh in your reach. “same here, doll. we come at the same time mmkay?” he sped his hips up and grabs plush of your breast in his hands. the pain brought you to an overdrive, making you reach your climax almost immediately.

“floor, slut. lemme cum on your face, what a dirty slut…cumin’ before me huh..” he pushed you down into a sitting position and aimed his cock in front of your face. your feeble hands were trying to assist him but were whacked away by him. his eyes were closed and breathing was ragged when he splurged over your tiny face.

with your eyes closed, you licked your lips for the taste of his cum. toji chuckled, “c’mon. im sure the security guards are patrolling soon. and remember, your body is only mine.”

i couldn’t sleep i needed to finish this. this was a fantasy of mine when i was working in a cafe as a waitress fr :3 sometimes it got so boring with the lack of customers, my mind just goes places.

[ghostbeam]

Tomura shigaraki x reader, tomura is an art student, takes place in the same universe as my charcoal artist!dabi stuff, tomura is like very insecure in some of this, if the writing feels pretentious and flowery and unnecessary that’s because it is<3

His hair is getting long.

Running your fingers through the ends, you notice how it’s nearing his shoulders now. His head is in your lap, staring up at you as you lean against the mountain of pillows on your bed, clad in a pair of underwear and the tee shirt he arrived in. His jeans are stained with paint, hanging low on his hips, unbuttoned and quickly thrown on so he wasn’t naked and vulnerable in your lap. You thumb at the scar by the corner of his mouth and he kisses it, then your palm, then your wrist. Tomura takes your hand in between three careful fingers and places it over his heart.

Love is not how they told you it would be.

The two of you were assigned to the same group in painting iii, formed so that the students could give one another critiques independently. Only, you couldn’t find a single thing to critique in his work.

Tomura worked with oils—or Tomura lived and breathed and died for them. He painted people, always caught in a moment, in the middle of talking, or yelling, or drinking, or sleeping. His attention to detail was unlike anything you’d ever seen before, colors you’d never realized could appear in skin tones, shine on limbs and cheeks that made his subjects both more alive and human than any real person. His work felt sort of dirty, sweaty, perpetually damp. But it was beautiful. You couldn’t say a thing about it.

He’d confronted you about it one afternoon, stuffing handouts from the professor into his bag, which looked to be filled with more loose paper and no text books.

“Do you hate it that much?” It was the first time he’d ever talked to you, actually talked to you and not just about your work during a critique. “You never have anything to say.”

It stuns you for a moment, his anger and annoyance, how he’s decided to aim it at you instead of the group of people clamoring for issues with his painting all class period.

“I’m supposed to point out flaws, tell you where you could have done better, explain how I wasn’t moved,” you explain, staring down at your shoes, “but I can’t do that. There’s not—I don’t see how I could possibly tell you how you could do better.”

“That’s bullshit.” He mutters, slinging his bag over his shoulder. “Don’t just say what I want to hear. I won’t like you any more for it.”

He leaves you standing alone in the classroom. Like you? He thought it was about being liked? You’re in such awe of him that you can’t speak, and he thinks you’re just trying not to hurt his feelings.

During the next class, when he stands before your group for critique, you don’t say a word. And he keeps looking at you like he’s waiting for it, like you’ll be angry enough at him for last week that you’ll rip his painting apart. But your silent, once again. Nothing’s changed.

He’s the first one out of the class once you’re dismissed. He walks fast, and you’re out of breath by the time you catch up with him, resting a hand on his shoulder that he flinches away from. Your breath comes out in quick puffs that you can see, wrapping your coat tighter around yourself as you fix him with a glare.

“You’re wrong.” You say once he’s turned around. “I don’t care if you like me or not after critique. It’s not about sparing your feelings. I’ve never seen anything like what you do. And I watch you in class, and you paint like something is clawing it’s way out of you, like you need to do it or you’ll die.”

“You’re honest with everyone else but me.” He argues, unable to accept your words. You have real things to say to your peers. You don’t hold back with them. You make them better. Why couldn’t you do that for him?

“You are not everyone else.” You watch his eyes widen at your words, and if you had any shame, maybe you wouldn’t have said something so bold. “You’re leagues above all of us. Everyone knows it, and that’s why they’re harsh on you.”

Where you say nothing, your group rips into him, picking at each and every detail until there’s nothing left. He takes it all in stride, accepting their words like it’s absolute truth, and returning to his canvas with sunken shoulders and furrowed brows, concentrated on how he could be better. It’s exactly what they want.

He opens his mouth the say something, but stops, feeling a drop of something fall on his cheek. He looks up at the dark clouds above the two of you, and it begins to rain. He curses, taking a hold of your hand and leading you underneath the front of the design building.

“They’re harsh because I deserve it.” He points out, still holding your hand. You could say a million things right now, tell him in detail how moved you are by every piece he makes, but his hand is still in yours, and you don’t trust yourself not to trip over your words because of it. You can only shake your head.

“Why can’t you accept that you’re brilliant?” You question, exasperated. It makes him laugh, his smile being something you’ve never seen before. It makes you think of all the people who have seen this smile before, the stretch of his lips, the creases by his eyes. Had they felt this lucky?

“I think you’re crazy.” He tells you, knocking his knuckles against your head.

“Do you wanna go out?” You ask before you’re able to stop yourself. He leans away from you, surprised.

“What?” You can’t find the words to speak, to tell him you’re sorry, that it was uncalled for, that you’re a total creep. His face is red, you notice. He speaks a moment later, “yes.”

Rising from your lap, he leans over you, kissing your lips with as much tenderness as he had your palm. Your lips are his favorite thing to paint, second only to your thighs which he grips tightly as he wraps your legs around his waist.

When he’d met you, all full of hope and belief in him of all people, he’d thought of you as such a faraway thing. Unattainable. If you couldn’t talk about his work, there was no way you’d ever talk to him. But he was wrong, something he rarely ever is, your faith in him changing how he viewed his own art forever.

He paints you. He paints you a lot. He even paints the two of you together, though your faces are never in those ones, just bodies tangled together on one canvas. He’d call you his muse if you didn’t hate it. And besides, he knows you’re so much more.

If there had been something inside of him clawing it’s way out, you had noticed it, freed it, kept it safe with you so it wasn’t so agonizing to carry on his own.

No, it’s not how they told him it would be at all.

[letters2won]

Hi may I ask for an idolNiki x black reader fiction Where she's one year younger than him and is really scared to admit her feelings/confess because of fans who say that he doesn't like black people /black girls soo she starts to try and give him space so she doesn't come off as clingy/pushy and he tells her that their just stupid obviously and that he loves her too but she so convinced that the fans are right

︶︶︶︶༉‧₊˚. LETTER TO MY 13 YR OLD SELF

pairing: idol!niki x black!reader ⋆ genre: hurt/comfort ⋆ warnings: self doubt, harmful comments, let me know if i missed anything!

1.2k wc

⤷ i hope this was to your liking :( it’s my first time trying hurt/comfort but this was nice to write so thank you for requesting

did i get emotional writing this? yes because i related to this a lil tee much 🤏

¡ requests: open !

Everyone could see the love seeping out of you for Niki. You knew what you were getting into the moment you felt these feelings starting to rise.

They were only getting stronger and stronger day by day, it was hard trying to not spill out a monologue to him on what was stirring inside of you.

But lately, you realized how out of reach he is. Noticing all the beautiful fair skinned girlies surround him caused you to spend time staring at your own reflection. You started to softly touch your cheeks and hair, furrowing your eyebrows at the thought of him not wanting to date someone like you.

You rubbed your face tiredly as you walked out your bathroom and into your dorm room.

“Hey yn! Hope you don’t mind that I used your spare key..”

You jumped at the sound of his voice, holding your chest before going to hit him with your pillow. “Niki! You should’ve at least texted me, someone could’ve seen you, you know!” and in response he just rolled his eyes playfully.

“How was your fansign today?” you asked as you got up to grab some clothes he left over to change in knowing his current clothes were too hot. You didn’t notice him staring at your every movement before he hummed to himself.

“Tiring… but it was funny! Heeseung-” he then proceeded to go into detail about everything that went down. You gave him reassuring hums and smiles to let him know you’re still listening even with you back turned.

You eventually felt your heart drop at a mention of a fan. “And there was a pretty engene today! She was so charming and funny, definitely had a way with her words” he chuckled lightly to himself.

Biting the inside of your cheek, now you know you definitely can’t confess anything to him.

“You must be tired, yea? Are you staying the night?”

He frowned slightly, “Can’t, I have practice all day tomorrow so you probably won’t hear from me.” You sighed and gave him a reassuring smile.

“That’s fine, text me when you're free, ‘kay?” and he nodded. You walked him to the door and gave him a big hug finding comfort in the warmth radiating off of him. He softly kissed your forehead before letting go, causing you to stare in awe.

“See you later pretty!” he cheekily stated before closing the door. Oh boy, you were in trouble, the pounding of your heart being living proof of it.

That night you tossed and turned, missing having his head on your chest through the night. You gave up trying to sleep and went to twitter, the bright screen causing you to squint a bit to adjust. Scrolling mindlessly on twitter until you came across a tweet that had your eyes watering a little.

“Niki wouldn’t date a black girl in my opinion, he probably also likes experienced girls too!”

Hurriedly, you look through the comments to see people agreeing with her. Yea a few comments were disagreeing but that didn’t make you feel better. You honestly felt sick to your stomach.

You sat up quickly to read more. “He definitely doesn't like them clingy, he enjoys personal space.” That’s how you found yourself going through a loophole on twitter feeling even more shitty about yourself.

Why did it have to be like this? Was that how he really feels? You know you could ask him, I mean he’s literally your best friend! But you felt too embarrassed to even ask him how he felt dating girls like you. Did he believe the stereotypes surrounding black girls?

Your heart started to ache. You already felt self conscious about your skin, but this just made you feel 10x shittier. You got up to stare at yourself again. Eyes tearing up as you start to wish your hair weren't so kinky and how you would love to have long blonde hair or blue eyes. Wishing you weren’t so different.

That night you went to bed with a heavy heart.

The next morning you saw Niki messages but you were still hurting and decided to avoid him. You can't handle looking at him or speaking to him knowing you’ll break down in front of him.

Niki on the other hand was worried that the forehead kiss is why you’re so distant. He could barely concentrate at practice. The boys noticed it, giving him concerned glances.

“Good work today boys! Niki you’re normally on your A-game but today you were so off. Work harder okay? Get some rest everyone, see you tomorrow,” the dance coach let out.

Niki was too spaced out to even care about what he had to say. He was in a rush to see you. He needed to make sure he didn’t break any boundaries. He couldn’t lose you like this, he thought to himself as he rushed out the dance studio.

He knew it was risky to be at your dorm without any disguise but he pushed it to the back of his mind as soon as he saw your door come into view.

Knocking anxiously but you didn’t move an inch. Not wanting to get bothered right now as you cuddle up with your blanket and comfort cartoon show playing in the background.

Niki checked his pockets hoping he brought the spare key with him.

Sighing in relief, he quietly opened your door. Your dimly lit up living room welcomed him in as he closed the door softly. He could already tell something was wrong as he recognized your comfort show playing which made him even more anxious.

“Yn…can we talk?”

Your saddened eyes turned to look at him and he felt like he was shot in the heart seeing you look like this. He cautiously sat on your bed as he heard the soft sobs echo through the room.

“I just wish I could be what you wanted, Niki. You are so close but so out of reach from me. If I was pale skinned would it be different, I wonder? Would you feel less ashamed knowing I fit in with you?”

Niki pulled you closer to him, rocking back and forth. “Is that why you've been ignoring me? Because of those stupid opinionated comments?”

“Yn, I liked you for you. I love how we are different from each other. Being able to learn from you and see things from your point of view helped me grow as a person. It helped me learn to love you.”

Your head shot up, scanning his face to see if you heard wrong. “Yn you didn’t hear wrong, i meant it.”

“You’re so beautiful to me and I want you to allow me to show you that” Niki finished up.

Eyes tearing up as you sense his sincerity, you pushed your forehead against his. “Sorry for making you worry.. I was already embarrassed.”

He rubbed you back comfortingly, “Don’t be embarrassed, you’re allowed to feel like this, just communicate with me, yea?” and you nodded in agreement.

You looked up at him and saw his eyes flicker to your lips, “can i?” he asked. You smiled and leaned your forehead against his again feeling his soft lips fit with your perfectly.

Sighing in content, he leaned back and you two stayed like that for the night. Holding on so dearly as if you might vanish in thin air.

[dreamties]

Polyam! Ghostface Comforting GN! Reader About Their SA

A/N- yeah. hiii. it's billy !! im back. again. plz read with caution- there is no mention of the assault itself (it is alluded to many times; there are no intimate details), still. you know yourself best. stay safe lovelies <33

I tried keeping the assaulters identity neutral- but let me know if i messed up and used he/him pronouns at all and i'll edit the post :3

Billy is unable to understand the full scope of your traumas, however, he understands that it runs deep, that if your anything like he is that you feel it in your bones and the ache of your body.

Trauma is so personal and crushing. He wants nothing more than to take that away from you, endlessly lift your spirits, he wants to make you feel whole again. Loves you too much to see you like this.

He can't do that. As much as he and Stu can do, they can't erase what has already happened. He will be there as much as he can, for whatever you need. He has always been devoted to his loves- it increases tenfold when you open up about your assault.

Stu automatically wants to kill the perpetrator, takes Billy aside to tell him all his gruesome thoughts- until Billy stops him. Tells him, roughly, to shut up. You don’t know what you're talking about, man. Our little love needs to make that choice on their own.

Billy talks about it with Stu beforehand obvi. Billy wants to wait for you to ask them about killing your assaulter, while Stu would go to you and ask straight up if you want to be the one to kill them (if you want them dead. He won't understand if you desire to keep them alive tee bee aich, but he'll honor your choice).

Stu just like. He doesn't get it. He doesn't handle it well at first. He's far too brash and laughing- well. Not laughing, he knows enough to realize that would have been a bad move. Though he seems to not know enough as he's all jokes still.

Both boys are so emotionally stunted- Stu has only had to comfort girlfriends before (which, he was admittedly not the best at. He stole apologies and one liners from movies) and the brief vulnerable moments that Billy allows himself to show. C'mon, give him a pass, okay? He's trying :(

Stu's comforts are all hugs and cuddles and gifts- depending how you react to those things, maybe he won't have to branch out too hard. Either way you'll need more than one source or level of comfort- Stu WILL learn new things for you, though.

He has a hard time if you don't want physical touch! He gets all whiny about it and it pisses you off, you have to give him a stern talking to that it's NOT about him and he has no right to act like that. Psssh whatever . . .

(he's really sorry though. He promises)

He buys you so many things, as if that will ever make what happened okay. He hopes you appreciate it though. He'll get all sorts of comfort items, food and stuffies and stuff that he KNOWS you love. He'll buy it in bulk if he has to lol

For learning things, it's hard on all of you, but he and Billy will try their darndest to be emotionally available (just for you, babe!!). Billy is good at listening, Stu needs to get better with it.

Billy just listens to what you have to say, and I think on really emotional nights he opens up about his own trauma. He opens his wounds so you know he genuinely cares and is committed to you. Regardless of anything and everything. Billy will make himself a permanent fixture in your life, always.

(again really not that Stu wouldn't but it's so different y'all)

ALSO NIGHTMARES OHMYGOD

If you have nightmares they'll stay up with you until you're ready to fall asleep (or at least try).

They make it an all-nighter and pretend they were always planning for movie night. If you want to watch something that's not horror? Yeah, that's okay!

Most of Stu's VHS collection is horror lol

Though he does have some buddy comedies and cheesy romcoms. He owns one or two mysteries cause Billy likes them.

Anyways !!! Have your pick darlin' <333 They won't judge or complain

Admittedly they aren't great with panic attacks. Billy gets anxious- what if he makes it WORSE? He'd hate himself for it. Stu is surprisingly good at grounding you though :D

All in all- it's an adjustment for everyone. They're gonna be there for you forever though, okay? Good luck getting rid of them <3

[puppyluvfics]

NSFW Alphabet | Kim Jungsu

Kim Jungsu | WC: 1.4k Genre: smut Summary: nsfw alphabet game thing Warnings: this is just. PURE filth. I'm sorry. (No im not). NOT proofread, just straight up rambles. A/N: X is excluded bc i will Not be writing about him in that kind of detail <3 Thank u anonie for requesting this one <3

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

I feel like he would be really giggly afterwards, but still really caring, y’know? He’d need a minute to lay there and pant and breathe and giggle with you, praising you and saying things like “I don’t understand how it gets better every time” and just breathlessly saying “wow” before he’d roll over and smother your face in kisses.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Okay hear me out. The butterfly tattoo photos keep me up at night thinking about how much he would love to have his neck marked up and how he’d be so proud to see that… not that it’s his favorite part about him, but it would easily become his favorite when he’d see the hickeys you left.

As for his partner, I think he would fall in love with anything he could just grab at… thighs, stomach, love handles, your chest, literally anything he can grab and hold onto… OR BITE??? Yeah. Yeah…. 

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

And if I say he loves backshots, then what? Getting right to the edge and then making a mess all over your back, grabbing onto your hips to hold you steady while he lets go? Yeah… yeah. 

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

So I said biting right? I don’t know if it’s a secret, per se, but I think he would love to leave bite marks on you that would be at least partially visible when you go out, like biting your shoulder before you’d go out wearing a big tee shirt so if it slid over, anyone could see the mark… possessive boy.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

On a scale of 1 - 10, I wanna give him like a 5… I feel like he knows his way around pleasure and knows how to make you both feel good, but he hasn’t really ventured into kink, yknow? But I do think he’s a very good listener so if you asked him to adjust something or do it a certain way you like, he would in a heartbeat.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Doggy or Cowgirl, for sure. Doggy because of the backshots and ability to grab at you, but cowgirl because he could just reach up and grab at you and watch you feel good, almost using him, but not really, yknow? AND THEN??? Cowgirl but he’d pull your down onto his chest and grab at your ass so he could take control… yeah…

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

I know I said he’s giggly afterwards, but I don’t think he would be during. It’s not some big serious thing where it has to be the right moment and he has to make it super sweet, but he is not fucking around when it comes to fucking you.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Not going into detail but I think he’s somewhere between trimmed and all natural… like in a constant state of 2-3 months after shaving, yknow?

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

This isn’t to say he isn’t a romantic, because he absolutely is… just not really in the bedroom. Of course, he’d make sure you were okay and feeling good, but it’s almost always rough and hard and intense.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcannon)

Looks around. Taps the mic. He would jack off with your panties, especially if you were apart for a while, he’d miss you that much that just the thought of you and that small piece of fabric in his fist would get him over the edge…. And then of course, he’d return them and pretend nothing happened :)

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Honestly? I don’t think he’s much of a kinkster… if anything, marking, but that’s less of a kink more than it is just him being possessive and needy.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Somewhere private, but not necessarily at home, yknow? Like if you were the only two people at a movie, he’d put his hand between your legs and tease you the entire time… and car sex? He’d never say no to the idea of it.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

He’s easy to tease, we all know that. But I think the idea of you teasing him in any capacity, sexual or otherwise, would get him going, because he knows he can take control of you and have you on your knees in 2 seconds if he wanted… that cat and mouse dynamic really is something.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn-offs)

There’s a very distinct line between rough and intense and genuinely hurting you… he wouldn’t be into choking or slapping you in the face, at all

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

He’s not against giving, because he could grab at and bite on your inner thighs, but he’d like receiving more. After a long and stressful day, if he saw you drop to your knees and offer to suck the stress out of him, he’d be in bliss. Just the fact he could tangle his fingers in your hair and watch you worship his cock would mean everything to him.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Y’all already know - hard, rough, fast, intense.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

He’d be down if you were… it would still be intense and passionate, but if he needed to blow off a little bit of steam and you were willing, he’d absolutely bend you over the couch or the table or counter and have at it.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

I wanna say no. He doesn’t seem the type to want to venture into kinks, even basic ones. He likes control, sure, but you have a good dynamic - don’t fix it if it ain’t broke.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Oh now see…. He is absolutely the type to come twice. Not back to back, but he’d come once and still need you so badly that he’d take a bit to recuperate, using that time to get you off a time or two before needing to be inside you again.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

He’s not anti-toy, he just likes to be the only one making you feel good, and he’s shameless, you feel better around him than any toy.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

GOD HES THE TEASE. Grinding against you when you’re cuddling, grabbing at you and whispering “mine”, lazily running his fingers up and down your body acting like it’s all innocent…

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Soft grunts and moans, lots of heavy breathing, without a doubt. He’s never going to be screaming, but growling in your ear, reminding you that your his, low little exclamations like “fuck” and “take it”

W = Wild card (a random headcannon for the character)

This is so out of the blue, but I can’t stop thinking about how if you’d ask to cockwarm him while you were at home watching a movie or tv… he’d be into it but he’d lose control so fast, reaching around to tease you and saying things about how he can’t help that you’re so tight around him that it makes him need to fuck you.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

He can take no for an answer and be okay with it for sure, but if you’re down, 5/7 days a week, one of you is going to come. 

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterward)

Immediately after aftercare, for sure. Once he knew you were okay and feeling good and you didn’t need anything other than him by your side, he’d be out like a light, some part of him still touching you, either his arm around your waist, his hand in your hair or his leg wrapped around yours. 

[mejaemin]

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princess - qian kun

wc: 0.9k summary: qian kun doing your edges + giving you the princess treatment <3 warnings: black!reader, suggestive at one point, fluff an: i’ve been meaning to write a black reader for a long time… n what better time to debut one than now ??? happy bhm everyone !!!

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you’re sitting on the bathroom counter, edge control in hand while kun stands in between your legs. he’s holding your edge brush, giving you a look of uncertainty as you stand in front of him.

“are you sure you want me to do this..? i don’t want to mess it up or anything..” you’re holding your phone out to him, and his eyes flicker up and down from the tutorial you have playing with hesitation.

you nod your head eagerly, swinging your feet back and forth. “mmhm! you’ll do so good, i promise. i remember doing my edges for the first time, and they were really easy. you can do it!” leaning forward, you press a kiss to the wrinkle between his brows, followed by another to his soft pout. “besides, if you can style the rest of my hair,” you gesture to your straightened hair, tied half up half down with the ends bumped, “you can do this too!”

he hums, lips forming a line. “i guess i’ll try…”

dipping a finger into the edge control you hold out for him, he glides it along the baby hairs at your hairline. as he leans in to begin shaping them, his face gets close enough for you to see all the details in his face. your hand subconsciously reaches up to touch it, pink manicured nails gliding against every wrinkle and ridge on his skin. your thumb glides over his eyebrow, hair soft under your fingertip. dragging your hand down to his cheek, you glide a finger over his bottom lip tucked into his teeth, drooping lower and lower until you rest your hand on his bare shoulder.

he’s so attractive like this, up close and personal, in his black cargos with a matching tank. there a gold chain hanging over his milky skin, and it hangs in the air as he leans close to keep touching up your hair. you reach out to touch it, and it’s cold in your hands as you twirl it between your fingers. kun’s fingers brush against your forehead as he begins smoothing out his work, and you let go of him once he finally pulls away, not without another kiss. you hop down off the counter to look at yourself, and he gently moves you to the side to wash his hands.

leaning forward as much as possible without bumping into him, you inspect his work carefully. he didn’t exactly do them like how you would prefer, but they’re perfect nonetheless, even including little curls at the ends. you smile, and after drying his hands he turns to you for your reaction. you nod your head, wrapping your arms around his neck to trap him in a hug. his arms close you in around your waist, warm as he turns his head to kiss your cheek.

“i’m assuming i did well?” he looks down at you, smile gentle as you return the same look.

you hum, nodding enthusiastically. “i like it a lot!” you leave one, two, maybe a few more kisses all over his face, and one more on his lips, before running to your vanity, one he purchased and built for you. digging through your drawers, you pull out a pink bow. kun is following close behind, standing behind your chair while rubbing gentle circles into your shoulders. you turn to him, holding the bow out, and he takes it from you to tie it around your ponytail. once done, you look in the mirror, checking yourself out (maybe him too..), before getting up.

“i’m done!” you smile, sitting down on the edge of your bed.

it’s now kun’s turn to finish getting ready, so he nods, before going in your closet to pull out a shirt. you watch with a gaze that’s a little to intense, eyes trained on his biceps and shoulder muscles that flex as he pulls the black tee over his head. he grabs a flannel as well, black and white, completing his monochrome look before turning to you.

he steps in front of you, hands cradling your cheeks to capture you in a long, sweet kiss. “you look so pretty, my princess..” his thumb glides over your lips, and his eyelids droop when you catch it between your teeth. “can i take a picture? hm?”

you nod, waiting as he pulls his phone out. when the camera is pointed at you, you give it your best doe eyes, giving an innocent look to the camera. you hear the shutter a few times, his hand moving positions for each one before he backs away.

“can you take a few of me for real now? ones that won’t be in your hidden folder?” you ask, already fixing yourself up.

“of course.” he leans down once again, giving you one more kiss, rubbing your lip gloss into his lips before taking his phone camera back out.

you pose a few times, throwing your hair over your shoulder, giggling at kun’s praises while you do so. walking over to him, you flip the camera around to take a few with him, his lips on your cheek as you snap a few photos. you take a couple more selfies on your own, sending them all to yourself. when you look up from his phone, he’s grabbed your bag and a sweater for you. pocketing his phone, he helps you into your sweater and hands you your bag.

with your hand in his, you finally exit your home, off to another date where kun pays for everything, and you sit pretty as his princess.

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perm taglist: @chenlezip @coquettejunnie

[redlikerozez]

Share the Love Event

Prompt: how he says "i love you" for the first time

For @teetorini <3

Tee, thank you so much for everything. You're such an amazing person and I'm so glad I'm getting to know you better in the server. It's truly become a new home for me. I hope you enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it for you!

Gojo Satoru x Reader (approx 3.5k words)

No use of Y/N. Gender neutral reader. Pet names: baby, sweet, sleepyhead.

Warnings: a little angsty but with a happy ending :))

Dating the strongest sorcerer in modern history definitely had its perks. 

You’d been dating the Gojo Satoru for almost a year now. He treated you like royalty. You were his muse and the subject of his every thought. He could barely go hours without seeing you or at least hearing your voice.

It was clear during the newly dating phase that his love languages were gift giving and physical affection. He would go out of his way to find little trinkets or sweets while he was out on missions to bring back for you to share together. 

You’d told him too many times that it was too embarrassing when he bought expensive things for you, but he kept doing it anyway just to get a reaction out of you. At this point, your closet was half full of expensive clothing and other accessories you only ever pulled out for date nights with him. They were too precious to wear everyday, especially in your line of work. Sorcery and deadly missions didn’t exactly take well to silks, cashmere, soft velvets and intricate lace detailing. You didn’t want to ruin anything, especially when Satoru promised he would just buy another.

And when he wasn’t on missions or teaching, when it was just the two of you, he was constantly teasing you and wrapped around you in some way. He found himself reaching out for your hand after letting Infinity drop when taking a stroll or putting an arm around your waist. He draped his arms around you like a scarf and leaned his chin on your head if you were standing in front of him. On the couch while watching a movie, he would either be cuddling you ferociously or his long legs would be slightly crushing you, perpendicular and on top of yours. Sometimes he’d even find his fingers running through your hair when you were sleeping next to him or softly caressing your cheek or any part of your skin.

Satoru was unaccustomed to vulnerability to say the least. He forgot how nice it felt just to feel the warmth of another. 

“You’re so… soft,” he would say like a broken record, still managing to be surprised every time his fingers made contact. 

Even with the constant attention and spoiling, it wasn’t the cake walk everyone seemed to believe it was. This doesn’t mean it wasn’t absolutely amazing for the most part, but even the most powerful have their flaws when it comes to relationships. 

He was practically untouchable, not only physically but in terms of raw power. It had become second nature to keep Infinity up at all times. An invisible barrier that protected him from harm. But it also prevented him from getting close to others, quite literally. 

Being the strongest meant there was always some unspeakable divide between him and everyone else he met. They were all fragile, breakable. He wasn’t. 

Sometimes he’d even forget his Infinity was still active when reaching out for you. You’d laugh a little, before giving him a fake stern look and say, “Satoru…” in the most childish mean voice you could muster to remind him. 

And in reply he’d always make a big deal out of lowering Infinity by imitating “The Scream” by Edvard Munch before wrangling you into his arms and kissing you all over relentlessly to make up for it, saying between each kiss, “There? Can you feel this? Is that better now?!”

When he wasn’t reminding everyone he was the strongest or being a pain in the higher-ups’ asses, he was still a cocky asshole. Most of his friends wondered what on earth you saw in that man, and they’d constantly remind him to never fuck anything up between you two because he was so lucky to snag such an amazing person like you.

But beneath all the silly jokes and the copious amounts of pride, he sometimes let slip to you that it was mostly just a front. He had a soft side around you, though he’d never admit to it.

He didn’t like letting people get close to him because he was too aware of how dangerous his line of work could be and how many friends and coworkers and even students sometimes would just never return from missions.

Satoru knew practically everything about you, at least all the stuff that mattered to him anyway. He knew your favorite flowers, favorite restaurants, shops, and authors and books, but he never asked about personal things. Any further information about yourself you’d told him was initially offered by you. It almost offended you when you realized it, but it dawned on you that you’d never really asked him about personal things either. He just didn’t share anything extra like you had.

Still, it got you wondering… What was his childhood like? What was his relationship like with his parents? He didn’t have any pictures of his family or friends hung on the walls of his apartment. Didn’t the Gojo clan have a large estate? Why did he choose to live in an apartment? 

He never mentioned family, or anyone outside of work, really. He never even mentioned an ex or talked about his former best friend that betrayed all of jujutsu society. 

You tried to ask Shoko about him once, but she just shrugged and said she’d never thought to ask him that stuff, even when they were in school together. And Kento was just as clueless.

Exasperated and out of luck, you came to the conclusion that this man just didn’t talk to anyone about himself. Well, that is to say the self-centered borderline narcissist Gojo Satoru practically never shut up about how amazing he was or how he was the strongest, but it seemed he never talked about anything beyond just that. 

It made you cringe a little when thinking about strategies or different approaches to get him to open up. You didn’t want to end up in a weird spot in the relationship where he used you as a pseudo-therapist because that hadn’t gone well in your past relationships. But you wanted to subtly hint to him that if there was ever anything wrong, that he could talk about it with you if he wanted.

Oh, there was one more thing that bothered you: he still hadn’t said those three little words… “I love you.”

It practically crawled out of your mouth one night in bed together. He hadn’t made a big deal of it, but he didn’t say it back, either. You figured maybe he just wasn’t ready to take that step so soon. 

But after all these months together, he still hadn’t said it. It wasn’t that you questioned his affections for you. He showed his love for you in different ways everyday, but he still never said it.

And it was starting to bother you.

It was hardly the time to broach the subject while straddling him on the couch, deep in his mouth with your tongues intertwined, but it had been bothering you for a while and you didn’t want to let it fester any longer before it became resentment.

“Satoru,” you pulled away, gasping from the intensity of the kiss.

“Hmm?” he purred, pupils blown wide with desire.

The way he looked at you just made your heart melt. His eyes. It was hard not to stare. Even after so long, you never got used to looking into his breathtakingly blue eyes. 

“You can talk to me, you know?”

He made a confused face, laughing softly. “I thought we were kissing…?”

You pushed him lightly in the chest. “I mean like in general. You can talk to me about stuff.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Stuff?”

“You know!” you tried to save yourself. “Stuff! Feelings, thoughts, memories… Anything. You can talk to me about anything. You know that right?”

“Okay… Just curious, but why are you bringing this up right now? It was getting pretty heated there.”

“Well, because…” you started to say.

You locked eyes with him. You bit your lip to try and steel your nerves. God, you shouldn’t have looked him in the eyes. You get lost in them every time. And the way those eyes were looking at you now, like you hung the very moon and the stars in the night sky.

Forcing yourself to break eye contact for a second for fear of getting caught in a trance, you took a deep breath.

“Because Satoru,” you began again, going back to stare deep into his eyes. “I love you.” 

So what if you got lost in them? You meant every word. And it had been some time since you last said it. Maybe he was ready now, you thought.

His mouth parted into a big smile and he replied, “I know I can talk to you, baby. You’re my world.” 

He tried to go back in for another kiss, but a nervous laugh ekes out of your mouth and it stops him. He gently tilts your chin up so that you’re staring into his eyes again. He has a serious look on his face.

“Hey, what’s wrong?”

“Do… Do you love me?”

It was hard to hide the hurt in your voice, but you tried to cover it up best you could.

“Of course I do. I mean it: You’re my world,” he assured you, cupping your cheek in his palm.

“I just noticed you haven’t said it back, that’s all,” you said, leaning into his hand a bit.

“I do. I care for you so much-”

“Care?” Your eyes widened in surprise. “You care for me?” 

You didn’t intend for it to sound so accusatory, but his word choice just felt so clumsy. 

“No, that’s not what I’m trying to say.”

“Can you not say it for some reason?” you asked genuinely.

He stared at you, still searching for the right words for a moment.

“Do you not feel loved or cared for? I try to show through my actions not just empty words-”

“They’re not empty words, Satoru,” your brows furrowed. “Not to me.”

He huffed in frustration. “You really want me to say it that bad?” He was almost mocking you.

“It’s important to me,” you said, eyes narrowing. “I’d like to know if the person I’ve spent the last year with actually loves me or not.”

“I do!”

“Then why can’t you say it?”

He started several sentences but couldn’t get past the first word. You moved to get off of his lap, but he tried to keep you in place. 

“It’s not like that, I promise you,” he tried to save himself. “Please, don’t go. I-I really- I do! I… ” 

He let his voice drift off and let out a sigh. His hand massaged his eyes in shame. 

You nodded darkly, biting your lip. “I see,” you said. “I guess that’s my answer then, is it?”

He didn’t resist this time when you stood up.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I want to. But I just… can’t.”

“And you can’t tell me why?”

He didn’t reply.

You started collecting your things. He got up to open the door for you as you left and you tried your best to hold back tears.

“I have a mission tomorrow. When I get back, we have a lot to talk about. Until then, you have a lot of thinking and reflecting to do,” you said as evenly as possible. “We both do.”

“Yeah…”

You felt so stupid. That was not how you thought this conversation was going to go. Maybe you’d been too harsh? And how had you waited this long to bring it up? Maybe you should go back and apologize-

No, you had to put your foot down. 

If it had been your friend that had told you “Oh he still hasn’t said I love you back and it’s been a year” you would’ve screamed at them to break it off. 

Maybe you deserved better. But your mind couldn’t comprehend the prospect of someone better than Gojo Satoru out there in the world. As emotionally unavailable as he is, he’s pretty much the perfect partner in every other way. 

You hoped you hadn’t just made a huge mistake getting into it right before a big mission.

But it was a big red flag that he couldn’t say I love you back. Especially after so many chances to say it just now. It was so big and red and waving that you couldn’t ignore it any longer, and one that he couldn’t either.

He never told you, but Gojo Satoru had nightmares about getting calls like the one he’d picked up at four in the morning two days after you’d left for your mission. He knew something was wrong the second he saw Shoko’s face appear on his smartphone’s caller ID in the middle of the night. He picked up the call, but he could feel his heart in his throat and it was drowning out Shoko’s words on the other end of the phone. He could only piece together a couple of words at a time. 

“…unexpected accident… unregistered special grade… brought to the infirmary… asking for you… doing all I can…”

He was holding his breath, hoping this was only another nightmare or some practical joke. But it wasn’t. 

“Did you hear me, Satoru? Get here. Now,” she said.

“Ok,” was all he could manage in response, feeling like his entire world was shattering.

It was all a blur. He doesn’t even know how long it took for him to get there, but it felt close to the speed of sound. Judging from Shoko’s shock to see him already at Jujutsu Tech, it was pretty quick. 

“Where?” was all he could ask, panting heavily with effort from running so fast.

Shoko was already drawing back the curtain to reveal your unconscious form in a hospital bed. There was a bandage over your left eye and others around various other body parts where you were injured. Red was already seeping through in a couple of places. Shoko was still in a surgical mask and scrubs from treating you. 

“How bad is it?”

“Should be fine, but only if we can get ‘em to pull through tonight,” she answered bluntly. “It’ll be touch-and-go for a while.”

Shoko hadn’t seen him like this in a long time. A small breeze could’ve knocked him over. He was drowning in a hideous mixture of emotions: shock, despair, regret, and just a dash of hope to keep him standing upright. 

“I’ll leave you,” she said, turning to walk away and close the curtain. “Just yell if something happens or if you need anything, Satoru.”

“Yeah,” he answered, sounding hollower than he’d felt in a long time. “Thanks for calling me.”

“Of course.”

She shut the curtain behind her as she took her leave. 

Satoru sat down next to the bedside in a wooden armchair with an uncomfortable cushion. He couldn’t decide on a sitting position, rearranging himself several different times before finally settling on a manspread while leaning closer to you. 

He ever-so-gently fished your arm out from under a thin white blanket and grasped your fingers in his, holding on for dear life. He finally took a deep breath and stroked the soft skin on the back of your hand soothingly. 

Satoru wasn’t used to feeling fear like this before. He kept others at a distance so that when they met unfortunate ends, as they so often did in his line of work, he wouldn’t get too broken up about it. But this was different. It wasn’t supposed to happen to you. He was supposed to be there to protect you, to keep you from all harm. 

He wasn’t able to save Suguru. He thought it would be different this time. He was stronger, no, the strongest. He was older, wiser, more experienced. How had he let you end up in this state? A broken, bleeding mess in a hospital bed. Surely he could do better for the person he cared for the most in the world. 

Why did no one call him if it looked like things weren’t going to plan?

“I’m right here. You’re gonna be ok,” he whispered to you. “You gotta fight for me, baby. Come back to me.”

It was a tense night. Shoko came in not long after with some tea that he let go cold. He couldn’t take his hands or his gaze off of you the whole time. He finally had to break contact with your hand when Shoko came in hours later to change some bandages before starting another healing session. 

He hated seeing you like this. He felt so weak. He couldn’t do anything to help you except sit back and watch Shoko work. 

After she was finished, she turned back to look at him and nodded, “It’ll be ok. The worst part has passed.”

He breathed a sigh of relief and sunk back into the chair next to your bedside, intertwining his hand back with yours. 

You woke up the next morning feeling like your head and body weighed several tons. Aches and pains and throbbing filled your senses. But something soft and soothing cut through all the sensory noise in your body. Someone was gently stroking a thumb against the skin of the back of your hand. You groaned slightly as you opened your eyes to be blinded by a bright light penetrating into your skull. 

Someone stirred next to you excitedly. “Hey there, sleepyhead. How’re you feeling?”

It was his voice. It acted like a numbing agent to all your pain, to hear his voice softly cooing next to you.

“Satoru, you came,” you said, smiling big and trying to sit up. 

Your body instantly rejected your attempt and you hissed, resigning to keep still.

“Yeah, maybe not such a good idea to move, sweet,” he laughed lightly, bringing his hand to your cheek. “Of course I came. How’re you feeling?”

You took stock of your body for a brief moment before grimacing back up at him. “Not great… But it helps knowing you’re here.” You nuzzled deeper into his hand at your cheek.

Satoru could’ve melted on the spot right there. He leaned over and placed a gentle kiss on your swollen and split lip. You tried to reciprocate the kiss briefly, but your lips recoiled back in pain.

“Sorry,” he apologized instantly. 

“Maybe we’ll wait for that till I’m feeling a little better, ok?”

“Yeah, for sure,” he agreed, smiling. “Is there anything I can get for you? Water? Ice chips? Tea? Do you need me to get Shoko?” 

He was already standing up, eager to go help you with whatever you may need. But you told him you were alright for the moment. He sat back down and you just looked at him for a long moment.

You both started saying something at the same time and laughed.

“You start,” he offered.

“No, I insist,” you countered. “What were you going to say?”

“About the other day, before you left…” he started.

Your heart started racing. Oh god, you’d completely forgotten about that with everything that happened. It seemed so silly, now.

“Satoru, it’s ok-”

“I couldn’t say it then and I’m sorry. It’s stupid, but I thought that if I said it out loud it would make it real, that I let myself get close to someone again,” he said. He was speaking slowly, like the words were resisting coming out of his mouth. “That I felt really strongly for someone again. Someone that I don’t want to lose. And I really don’t want to lose you.”

“I don’t want to lose you either, Satoru. But really, it’s ok if you can’t-”

“I-I love you. I really, really love you. And I’m really scared of what that means, but I can’t keep hiding from it anymore. I love you. So, if you could forgive me for being such a coward-”

Your body moved on its own, despite its own protesting. You flung yourself into his arms and to his lips. The mixture of happiness and adrenaline coursing through your veins was enough to numb the pain for a moment. 

He hummed in surprise when he found your lips on his in an instant and kissed you back eagerly. Tongues intertwining once again, he found the opportunity to lower your body back onto the hospital bed so that you wouldn’t hurt anymore than needed.

After breaking away to breathe, his hot breath wafting at your cheek, he whispered “God, I love you so much.”

“I love you more, Satoru,” you panted back. 

“Oh, you think so?” he teased. “We’ll see about that-”

“This is an infirmary not a love hotel, you two weirdos,” Shoko called from the other side of the curtain.

Your face instantly turned bright red, but Satoru just laughed and called back a snarky remark to Shoko that you couldn’t hear over the steam coming out of your ears.

You both locked eyes again after the embarrassment wore off. There was no one either of you wanted to be with more than each other. 

A/N:

This is the first time I've ever written for Gojo. Also the first time I've written an "x Reader" fic and something in second person POV!! Even more, the first time I've written a piece as a gift for another person and for an event!! Lots of firsts for me!!

Thank you again to Tee for the prompt and the event. I had so much participating!!

Thanks to @delirious-donna for helping beta this and for helpful advice!

Dividers all by @cafekitsune

All writing and art posted by this blog is original work by ©RedLikeRozez. Do not reupload, translate, copy, or claim as your own work.

[leclsrc]

congrats on 2k!! so happy to see such a talented writer get the recognition they deserve🤍🤍

can i request 5 gifts w/ charles?? ty and congrats again!

presents – cl16

genre: flufff, bit of angst, 2k celebration

Thank God for expensive cars—they barely make noise when they pull into the driveway of the house.

On nights where the bed’s emptiness is just a bit too painful to bear, your ears grow attuned to the silence so they can hear the car better. Because from then you can judge the rest of Charles’ synchronized routine—his shit parking, turning the key into the lock, heavy footsteps through the foyer and up the stairs, deliberate turning of the doorknob so he doesn’t wake you.

But he never does, because you’re never asleep. “Did I wake you?”

“Mmm, no,” you assure him, sitting up a little. He sports evidence of training, a bruise on his arm, extra stubble, a tighter fitting tee. He climbs into bed beside you holding a tiny box, rattles it so you can hear the chain shake inside. 

“Good. I have a gift for you.”

“Can it wait?” You ask throatily. “I miss you.”

He looks perfect like this, you think, pretty and handsome and tired and yours. He is rarely yours in these triple headers, season peaks where neither of your schedules give. So you envelop him into a hug, the box is laid on the bedside table, and they’re both gone by the time you wake up to the sun.

—

You were never one to accept presents, especially if they looked like they cost a month’s rent. Charles had given you a bracelet to commemorate your first year together, one that matched his.

“We agreed small gifts,” you’d said, jaw to the floor at the shiny object.

“It is… small.” He responded dumbly.

“Small, like…” you pull out your paper maché cat, which you painted to look like a Sauber driver. “Like this.”

So he’d kept the bracelet because you insisted, with all the love in the world, that you simply could not bear to wear it. Then he posted six pictures of your gift, claiming it was the best he’d ever gotten, pressing kisses all over your face.

—

“Would you like a message on the card, Sir?”

“Oui, oui. Can you write, uh…”

Charles rifles through his journal, onto which he’s written every detail of his life. There are race stats, strategy comparisons, crude venn diagrams of plans, tic-tac-toe games on slow meetings with Carlos, long-winded spiels on life that evolve from French to Italian to English, dinner date reminders, interview scripts.

But none of those is what he’s looking for. He seeks something else, a line he’d written on the day you fell asleep hugging him, comforted by his arrival. He had to leave early that day, so he enjoyed your presence and spent time writing. 

He spends a minute too long searching for it, but finds it eventually, sandwiched in between a doodle of Fred and Antonio. For all his trying, however, he later learns he miscalculated your checkout time, and the flowers never arrived on time for you to see them. He pictures the lilies, wilting alone, pictures the card you never got to unfold and read.

Thinking of you. I fall in love with you every time you walk into a room. Charles

—

You meet his eyes across the table, and narrow yours in silent challenge.

“Woah!” He laughs, amused, pointing an accusatory finger in your direction. “What was that—” He mimics your challenging expression, eyes briefly flitting down to where he holds his Uno cards. The rest of the room watch idly as the game comes to an intense close.

“It was me telling you I have great cards,” you proclaim with a giggle. “Aaaand uno.” 

The intense close is won by you, much to your opponent’s chagrin. It was an easy win, you state, I had a plus four and he handed it right to me. He finds you by the kitchen of the mansion chewing on a potato chip and extends a bottle of beer toward you, in a truce of sorts.

“Winners deserve a drink, no?” He grins, his eyes crinkling. “Consider it a gift. From me.”

“No, thanks. You already gifted me a win.”

“I just let you win,” he teases. “It was easy.”

“Was it?” You raise an eyebrow, and you both laugh. “All this talk, and I don’t even know my nemesis’ name.”

“Right, how rude,” he tsks, shaking your hand. It stays a bit too long, steals your words. “It’s Charles.”

—

In the end, your relationship befell the same fate as the collection of gifts he’d never been able to get you to receive: it just didn’t work out. 

But sometimes Charles revisits his piles of storage, picks out the florist’s business card or the winning Uno number he’d folded up and kept. He checks and rechecks boxes, wrappers, of gifts ungiven. And he goes to his trophy shelf, full of shiny metal and hard edges, and sees there, in front of them all, the Sauber driver paper maché cat.

And you sometimes go through pictures of the both of you, stare at your empty wrist and wonder what it would look like with a bracelet looped around it. You think of waiting, of the empty bed that’s now become the norm, the phone call from your hotel receptionist who asked if you wanted to return for the flowers that were sent late. 

Both of you remember. Both of you look for the other.

But perhaps most of all, both of you hope there’s a life where gifts were received and love worked. Charles passes the freeway exit that leads to your house and wonders, for a second, if he should turn into it. You lay in bed, ears attuned, wondering if you’ll hear the sound of his car.