#damnably handsome

[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."

[sassypossumm]

Kyoto Is for Lovers

Could a begrudgingly agreed to blind date with an egotistical CEO lead to something more...something lasting?

a/n: my submission to the Valentines Blind Date Event ran by the ever lovely @unintentionalseductress! @socyx, hope you enjoy this little morsel my dear! Enjoyed writing this more than I'd have imagined I would!!! Word count: 968

Kyoto. 

The city for lovers. 

Or was it Paris that everyone quoth when thoughts turned to love? 

It was a brush of the shoulder that drew you from your silent musings. A businessman - wrinkled and no doubt lost to the whirl of demands and expectations that drove his hurried steps - plowed past you. 

His nose - much like that of most of your fellow pedestrians - was practically pressed against the ever almighty screen of his celular god. With a shake of your head, you pushed your glasses up the bridge of your nose and made your way into the quaint ramen shoppe you’d agreed to meet your blind date at. 

To say your dating life had been stagnant would be an understatement - dead would be more accurate, no scratch that, do not resuscitate rang more true. Your last relationship had ended on less than pleasant terms. Your memories of said break up - at least, those you’ll allow yourself - swim in a dark haze of broken promises and dreams. 

It hadn’t been all bad though. You’d take the opportunity to begin making changes for yourself. Hobbies neglected, passions long denied could be dug out of the proverbial mothballs and stretched. 

You loved dance. He’d hated it. And so, like so many other facets of your being, you’d buried that desire. Dug a hole deep and wide and bury yourself bit by bit- but no longer. You danced again. At first mainly to spite him, but now? 

Now you found yourself rediscovering the parts of yourself that’d been buried under a mountain of snow. Not dead exactly, but long ignored. You liked yourself again, more importantly, you liked your company. 

Silence no longer seemed a roaring din, a thing to be dreaded and feared. The delight in simply being had returned. Returned and was welcomed like a long lost friend. 

A decidedly polite waiter showed you to a corner booth. Out of the way, cozy, intimate. That hadn’t been your intent when choosing this location, but there it was slipping into your mind unbidden all the same. Slipping into your mind as a traitorous companion, setting your nerves alight and settling in the depths of your stomach with an unsummoned tightening. 

Gojo Satoru. Billionaire CEO. Handsome. Wunderkind. Okay, so that last word you’d gotten from google rather than your chatty friend who’d convinced you this date was a great idea. 

“Yeah, a really great idea.” You mused to yourself, lips pulled into a decided frown. Tracing a finger along the marbled lines of the laquered table before you, you considered yet anew the circumstances that’d landed you in this spot. Or, more aptly, the person who’d landed you here. 

You loved your roommate, Shoko, really you did, but at times she could be a tad bit… forceful. 

She’d practically saved your life when you’d first arrived in Kyoto. Sure, you had not been in mortal danger that afternoon at the train station, but if she hadn’t appeared when she had, all boldness and understanding of the language you spoke, you’d probably still be stranded at Kyoto station trying to figure out why the hell you’d even come. 

And that’s exactly the guilt trip she’d used to finagle you into this damnable awkwardness. 

“Come on, you owe me.” 

“Owe is a strong word, Sho.” 

“Just this once, I swear.” 

Sighing, you leaned back into the plush leather of the backrest and closed your eyes. After hours of back and forth you’d agreed to the date, on two conditions. First, the location had to be somewhere lowkey - easier to keep expectations low that way. And second, this wasn’t going to go anywhere. 

You’d come a long way in the process of finding yourself but you still had a long way to go and the last thing you needed was some egotistical idiot to come along and fuck up your-

Gojo Satoru. 

Whatever words Shoko had used to describe him hadn’t done him justice. Any and all uncharitable thoughts about the evening's direction dried up rendering your brain a smooth landscape as you took in the man in question. 

Gojo Satoru. 

The man was all long lines and walking sex. Fluffy white hair that begged to have fingers ruffle through it. Eyes that shone brilliant cerulean as he turned to look at you. Designer shades slipped off and folded discreetly into a breast pocket. Plush lips that drew into a lazy smile as he strode effortlessly towards the corner booth. 

The man was gorgeous - and he knew it. 

“You must be Sho’s friend.” 

And just like that you were sunk. 

Lanky fingers enfolded around your own. Bright eyes taking in your appearance, lingering on the apples of your cheeks as they flushed, curly hair brushing against your neck creating a pleasing tableau - one he clearly appreciated. 

You wouldn’t play the hypocrite, the first thing you’d noticed about Satoru were his incredible good looks. The second being his masterful handling of conversation. The man had the gift of gab and it had obviously served him well in the world of finance and business. 

Effortlessly he filled the silence with warm responses to your own points of conversation, responding with questions at the appropriate times, naturally soaking up all the information you provided like the tastiest morsels to ever grace his palate. 

“You love what you do.” Gojo mused, scooping up a bit of the mousse you’d ordered for dessert. Bringing the spoon to his lips, he smiled at you approvingly. “I respect that.” 

Another spoonful of mousse. A deeply masculine chuckle. Your flustered flush in response. 

The check was paid and lanky fingers found yours yet again, threading through your own as if by second nature. 

Kyoto is definitely the city for lovers. 

[angstigone]

WARNINGS: mention of violence, crimes, murder, sexual harassment (towards reader), reader has a few prejudices towards kazutora's previous lifestyle, pre-relationship, getting together, miscommunication, kazutora's building confidence and probably a bit ooc, reader works in a bakery, chifuyu matchmaking and being a little shit, she/her - afab character

When your roommate had asked you whether you’d mind an old acquaintance crashing at your shared apartment for a few days, you had been quite welcoming.

Then Chifuyu had added that said acquaintance was on the lookout for an apartment because he had been in jail - juvie first and then jail - and that’s when you had grown reasonably nervous. 

You hadn’t been able to say ‘no’ to Chifuyu, although your comfortability was at risk; your friend had oftentimes chipped in when you couldn’t make rent after the investment of opening your bakery and he was the main reason why you could do something you enjoyed.

Still, when he had come back home with his friend - Kazutora - you had been nervous, having organized the house as your mother would have done when a guest stayed over, going over and over through every room although Chifuyu had explained that Kazutora would stay more in the guest room. 

He had also insisted that you’d have takeout but somehow it had felt like the least you could do was offer a homemade meal, if anything because - as it was your line of work - baking was your passion and consolation.

High-strung as a violin string, you had been surprised when Chifuyu’s friend had appeared to be damnably handsome. 

The photo that you had found through a quick research - which had felt painfully close to an invasion of his privacy - didn’t do him any justice, especially considering that he had seemed to have grown in prison and now sported a monotone hair color. 

On top of it, he looked painfully… afraid, almost like a wounded animal that was looking back at the first aiders while stuck in a trap.

Chifuyu had led most of the conversation and when you had mentioned dinner being halfway done, he had promptly shut the two of you down, explaining that he wasn’t hungry and he preferred to go straight up to sleep. 

“I also already showered before they let me…” he had stopped, answering Chifuyu’s prompt invitation, before looking down at the tip of his shoes “... either way, I hope you enjoy dinner. I will be… in my room, if you don’t mind”.

Chifuyu had then guided him to the guest room, returning quickly with a look that had you wondering whether he was doubting his choice, although any hint of displeasure had been rained away while you shared dinner and talked about anything but the matter at hand, for which you were thankful since you suddenly felt conflicted.

Shouldn’t you feel… still at unease? 

You had discovered, through your research, the reason why Kazutora had been in juvie and in all truth, it had felt so… gruesome and yet, you couldn’t place the man with his head hung between his shoulders and the hooligans described in the public documents.

And again, he was damnably handsome.

The thought had been enough not to have you sleeping which was a terrible thing since, as a baker, you had to be up at the crack of dawn especially when you handled catering services like that day; baking wasn’t half the problem as packaging and driving everything so it’d arrive intact and on time, although thankfully once the whole mission was finished and the party ended, you were free to go back home and get the sleep that hadn’t gotten the previous night.

Except, in your merry program, you had obviously forgotten about your newest roommate.

Chifuyu had sent you messages across the day about Kazutora, mostly that he had proposed to him to join him on his work at the pet shop, meanwhile he was on the lookout for something more suitable or considered going back to school.

He had sent back happy emojis once he had revealed that Kazutora had been positive about the matter, although you couldn’t reconcile the thought of the sullen man with anything positive. 

Till you caught sight of the man slightly humming while eating the portion of food of the previous night, that you and Chifuyu had left behind for a late snack.

You weren’t exactly angry about it.

Well, in part you were: those were your leftovers and he hadn’t even acknowledged your hard work the previous night.

Still, he looked… at ease for once that you completely forgot about your own discomfort with him.

How could you be uncomfortable when he looked so happy simply eating some microwaved food?

And yet, his expression changed quickly upon catching sight of you; you thought for a moment he’d have darted away as a child caught with his hands down the cookie jar - which was the most similar situation you could imagine with the one in front of you - but he quickly stilled himself although from the way his feet lightly tutted against the stool of the kitchen, you could tell he wanted to run.

Away from you.

And that’s when you finally felt something snap inside: you wanted to talk with this guy, uncaring of whether he had the ability to probably kill you with a spoon, if anything to make him feel at ease and using your food as an eternal excuse, you asked him:

«How is it?».

He looked taken aback, looking around as if he thought that you were speaking with an imaginary friend since he was the sole one in the apartment at this hour in the day, considering Chifuyu would be back at normal closing time.

«Ahem… sorry, I… what?».

You pointed to the food containers on the table, making sure to relax your frown.

«How was it?» you repeated the question «I have tried this new flour and Chifuyu insisted that they do seem lighter but I couldn’t determine it, so I might... need a second opinion».

 Somehow, you couldn’t help but think for a moment that you had worsened the situation, as Kazutora kept on having that deer caught in the headlight look, which would have been adorable considering he had been halfway through swallowing a bite and it gave him the famished squirrel look.

Still, as the silence stretched past comfort point, you worried that you had ruined any potential relationship, hanging your own head between your shoulders and considering not having to spend any more time making him feel uncomfortable in the kitchen.

«It was… I… I am not sure about light but I… the flavor is…» and then as if a sudden train of thought hit him, he added «Wait… you… you did this?!».

You nodded a bit taken aback and smiled sheepishly, especially as you were unsure whether he meant it positively or negatively; you had been cooking for enough time to know that you were quite good, but you also were well aware that at times people could have different tastes. 

Especially terrible ones.

«It certainly wasn’t Chifuyu after the last incident with the oven» you joked, as you’d have done with a normal acquaintance, quickly finding that it wasn’t that difficult although every common sense bone in your body told you to run. 

And yet, it was worth it when Kazutora’s face opened in a slight laugh, not yet a full one but it was adorable, especially with the way he scrunched his nose childishly.

Did he even know that you now wished to kiss it?

«Is he… is he still that bad?».

«Listen…» you started and in a boost of confidence, you moved to the kitchen aisle, choosing the stool that was the farthest to Kazutora but leaning closer to him «… my mom taught me that people aren’t ever not able to cook. Oftentimes they are just lazy and… well, the gist is that till I met Chifuyu, I truly thought that people could always learn how to cook».

This time you were rewarded by a prompt laugh and you quickly joined.

«He wrote to me… about… about almost setting the apartment on fire when he went to heat up some milk» he recounted, growing shy the moment that he finished the tell and you weren’t sure whether it was a sudden moment or the mention of letters; if there was one thing that you and Chifuyu had discussed before his arrival was not to bring up his past or his time spent behind bars, so you were quick to ignore that.

«Oh yeah, I had to… and please don’t laugh… Chifuyu-proof the whole apartment».

And just like that the discomfort was gone as you and Kazutora went onto bonding on your shared teasing of your common friend, quickly finding your footing with ease as you felt like you were simply getting to know a friend of a friend. 

A new friend, actually.

“You know… you kind of stole my dinner” oh huge golden eyes filled with guilt, enough that you felt a bit mean for your comment, quickly adding “... still, it was your dinner yesterday so I won’t act too offended, as long as you give me full and honest feedback on it. I am truly working on perfecting my technique by the start of next week as I think it’s bound to be a perfect recipe for the incoming good season”.

Discovering you were a baker had taken Kazutora aback, and he had listened attentively - which was a testament to his good character as you did blabber… a lot - while you recounted your struggles and accomplishment and your future plans, till the slamming of the entrance told you both that your small moment of bonding was interrupted by Chifuyu.

Who looked smug seeing you cozy up to each other, and Kazutora looked painfully close to a cherry tomato, as if caught doing something worse than simply eating your leftovers, retreating to his room with an excuse while Chifuyu sent you a stealthy look.

“So, what were you talking about before I walked in?”.

“Well, just of how bad of a cook you are, my dear”.

From then on, it was safe to say that any worry that you had towards Kazutora was gone; it wasn’t that he didn’t struggle nor he could be menacing at times - he might be all lean, but you had once accidentally walked on him changing in the bathroom and he was definitely built - but there was a building genuine relationship between the two of you. 

It hadn’t gotten to the part where he’d open himself fully to you, but you had noticed that he’d come to you when he’d need help with things around the house and recently he had started to recount to you his days, after you had joked with Chifuyu that he never told you about his own.

On top of the genuine happiness you felt at Kazutora’s change of heart, you had to admit you harbored a crush towards the man; you had tried to suppress it, blaming it onto the fact that you found him smoking hot, but there was something endearing in his genuine intent to better himself up and to stick to his own moral code. 

At times, you also saw glimpses of the cocky boy he must have been before … before everything.

Still, the crush felt… like bad news in your mind: it felt predatory as you couldn’t help but think that he was downright nervous and definitely vulnerable, especially considering you were forced to share time and space daily. 

You didn’t want to push your feelings onto him, preferring to keep in check. 

And failing to do so as Chifuyu had noticed and had been teasing you right back for it.

“... hhm, didn’t think that I’d have created a new couple by asking him to move with us. Remember to thank me on your wedding day”.

It was annoying, awful and you wished to rip your hair out each time Kazutora would compliment the leftovers you brought to him, although technically they weren’t leftovers. 

You just… you cooked a bit more for him, as you knew he enjoyed tasting new food and homemade meal… and oh God, you were as down bad as Chifuyu was saying.

That’s why you obviously had to ruin it with your big fat mouth.

In your defense, you had a drink in you since Chifuyu had taken advantage of Kazutora’s absence to drink at home together as you tended to do to unwind after longer days; Kazutora had been invited by some old friends to hang around and albeit it was obvious that it weighed on Chifuyu’s mind - you could only guess these people had to be former members of other bikers gangs that weren’t Fuyu’s own - neither of you had the heart to shut down Kazutora, when he asked your permission as if he needed it, excepting to be denied.

On top of it, it was a very good period for him: he had told you both that he was considering starting school again - night courses while he did part-time at the pet shop - and that felt like he might have found a direction in his life after wandering aimlessly since his liberation.

So, of course, he was on your mind. He was there a whole lot.

«… thank you, again for doing this…» Chifuyu was the first one who brought him up though, so technically the events that unfolded were his fault «… didn’t think that you’d accept this so easily, you know? I know… I put a lot of… pressure onto you».

«I owed it to you» first strike «… you know… it wasn’t like I also didn’t trust your judgement. I might have been a bit nervous about it, but…».

«… but my roomie is now in loveeeee….».

You flustered, lightly knocking your shoulder against his.

«Don’t say stuff like that!» you protested promptly.

«Oh c’mon! You are even worse than Takemitchy and Hina!» he protested much to your utter bewilderment.

«I am not… we aren’t… it isn’t… it isn’t like that!».

«It is!» Chifuyu insisted «… c’mon… you can’t say that he is that bad…».

«He isn’t. Truly» you started with how swiftly you spoke, hating yourself for it and how easily you revealed your true feelings «I… it startled me… you know… it’s almost like… he didn’t go to prison. Like sometimes I wonder how he can be the one who… who did those things, you know?».

Chifuyu shot you a quick understanding look as he went to take a long sip from his bottle, making you suddenly feel so stupidly superficial; it had been his best friend that Kazutora had killed that day, the reason why he had been behind bars for ten years and you couldn’t even begin to think how Chifuyu must feel… how much it took out of him each day.

Still, your thoughts were promptly brought away from the comment as you heard a slight ruckus from the entrance, which soon revealed a stumbling Kazutora, trying to rid himself of the small vase where you put umbrellas, and as much as the scene was downright funny, a sick suspect started in your stomach.

How… how long had he been back? 

Had he heard anything?

«Had a nice night, buddy?» Chifuyu teased before going to help him with his problem at hand (or feet should you say?) «… if you aren’t too tired, want to join us for a few drinks?».

You masqueraded your clear anxiety at having been almost caught, with a bottle raised in his direction to cover your awkward smile, that soon faltered when his gaze dipped the moment it met your own. It felt unusual for him to be this shy and your worst thoughts were promptly confirmed when he shot down Chifuyu’s offer with genuine tiredness.

«… the others they… it… it tired the shit out of me, and I… I wouldn't want to intrude» he ignored Chifuyu’s insistence that he wouldn’t have been interrupting anything, promptly moving towards his room - the former guest room - not even sending a glance your way. 

If anything his clear obligation to keep his eyes down was telling.

He had heard you and he had taken offense to your clumsy words.

And worst of all, you couldn’t fault him for it.

The days that passed after the ‘incident’ were heavy and if Chifuyu noticed that the air had grown tense, he tried to lighten it up, breaching a truce between the two of you - or better with Kazutora because you just wanted to apologize - but finding a wall of resistance from the other boy. 

Hence you had surrendered yourself to heartbreak, mechanically going through your usual routine and missing Kazutora’s own interruption like hell.

Your leftovers were left to rot in the fridge - well, not rot because Chifuyu would have eaten anything that wasn’t properly labeled or left for longer than a day untouched - and still you packed the umpteenth one while finishing to clean up for the day as your last client walked in.

«Oh lucky last client…» the words died in your mouth the moment that you took in who it was; you didn’t know his name although he had often introduced himself to you, right before asking you on a date.

Intensely. 

At least a few thousand times.

«… welcome».

It wasn’t that you found the guy… bad, you just lacked any interest in relationships and since Kazutora had come into your life, your heart had beaten just for him. 

Still, the guy hadn’t backed off at your constant rejections doubling up to the point that you felt genuine anxiety and exertion having to deal with him. 

You always tried to be polite but resolute, shooting down his invitations with believable excuses and acting as professionally as possible.

«Oh lucky me, indeed» he said as he moved closer to the counter, putting his grimy hands on your wiped down glass as you tried not to hiss and went from packaging the leftovers onto the cash register «… I wasn’t sure whether you’d still be open or…».

Considering that you thought he by now had memorized your hours, you tried not to grimace, especially as he didn’t order on the go, but instead sat himself down to the empty tables, while you reheated his order and went to do his coffee. 

He obviously tried to chat you up through the whole ensemble and you - as always - kept it strictly necessary, making sure to mention that you’d be soon closing.

Nothing worked and when you went to bring him over his order - what a pretentious fucker - he grabbed onto your hand and wasn’t intent to let it go, insisting that ‘you kept him company’.

“Oh, I simply couldn’t” you had insisted promptly feeling yourself panicking when his grip didn’t relax, if anything growing tighter as it became also pushy.

«Oh, c’mon!» he chuckled «You don’t ever even give me the time of the day!».

Yeah and why couldn’t he take a hint about it.

«I thought that you shot me down once because you said we didn’t know each other, so why don’t we do just that?» because you were halfway through closing, tired and exhausted and he wasn’t your type. 

And even if he was, he was building his own grave by being so insistent.

«C’mon, sit down!»,

«I have stuff to do, considering I was halfway through closing» now you didn’t have it in anymore to be civil with him; fuck it, if you lost a client, as this wasn’t the type of clientele that you wanted in your shop.

«Oh shit, I hadn’t… I hadn’t realized» his smile said the utter opposite «… then why don’t you get to it and I can walk you back home? Might as well grab a bite on the way there».

Oh shit, he had backed you into a corner.

«Very nice of you, but I… I am fine…» which road could you use? 

The one that said that it wasn’t professional and risked completely disregarding it or mentioning that you already had plans, which wasn’t a lie since you usually walked back home with Chifuyu and Kazutora on their longest days, but with the current situation… you had taken to go alone. 

You didn’t put it past this creepy dude to stalk you…

Maybe you could agree to grab a bite and then ditch this dude halfway through with an excuse.

That felt like the safest plan, if anything, to get this man to stop holding onto your wrist. 

Still, you were able to detach yourself when you were both startled by the ring of the bell signaling another customer and you were about to offer a lifetime supply of sweet treats to whoever had just saved you from the creepy dude when you turned to see it was none other than Kazutora.

Well, today it seemed it wasn’t your day.

You still sent a quick awkward smile ‘hi’ way, if anything because you desperately didn’t want to be alone with the dude.

«Hey» he said carefully and you noticed how quickly his eyes darted in the direction of your creepy customer; you hadn’t discussed it with anybody, feeling a bit silly and used to handling things on your own. 

You certainly hadn’t thought it’d get this bad. 

Still, you felt like Kazutora could tell that something bad was going on.

«… Chifuyu thought I’d come and ask how you were done. Today was extra-slow so we are closing earlier than usual».

«Oh, I am… I was halfway done, just… just a last client» and you pointedly gazed at where your customers sat, none the more discouraged although he pointedly looked at Kazutora, who regarded him as the likes of an annoying fly.

«Well, then I’ll tell Chifuyu not to rush with the closing» he said while getting his phone out. 

His presence had definitely put a damper on your creepy customer's plans and you could say it from the way his gaze quickly darted between you - safe behind the counter - and Kazutora. 

Confronted together the two men looked one the shadow of the other with Kazutora coming out as the winner, both in attractiveness and behavior, as he acted unbothered although obviously used to the gazes.

«You don’t have to worry» oh here he came again «I can walk the lady home. Actually, we were talking about going out for dinner and…».

«I never agreed to that» although your relationship with Kazutora was shaky, his presence felt comforting and you doubted he’d have left you to your own devices «That’s what I was going to say by the way… before … well before we got interrupted… I don’t need you to walk me home, my friends are coming with me and…».

«Oh c’mon!» his tone had dropped and whereas it had been ‘playful’ before, it now held a threat. 

With your side eye you spotted Kazutora quickly getting off his phone mid-text - he wasn’t used to them and could be quite slow, preferring to call you if you knew you were available - and slipped his phone back into his jeans, quickly setting his gaze onto the man with the intensity of a guard dog and crossed his arms over his chest.

«That ain’t no need to play hard. Just give a dude a bone!».

«Well, I… I also don’t have the need to go out with you, sir» you reinforced finally dumping onto him the painful kindness that you had held back «I have made it clear that I am not interested and i haven’t been… many times and…».

«When?» he said genuinely surprised «I just… well, you have always been kind with me! Smiling and… well, I wasn’t certainly expecting that».

And his gaze turned hateful, enough that even with the counter between the two of you, it was enough to have you shivering while you saw the man coming closer, approaching like a hurricane and while you readied for the worst, it never came. 

When had you even closed your eyes, because as they fluttered open due to the noise of a chair being kicked, you caught the sight of Kazutora holding the man’s arm up in the air while fixing him with a glare.

«The lady has said her peace» he commented statuary and although you had always been quite sure that Kazutora looked stronger than he seemed, seeing him in action was enough to have conflicting emotions fleet right in front of your face. 

None of them, though, was fear.

«I think that you’d do better if you left the place. At once».

«Hey! Fuck… put… put me down!» you had to give it out to this man, he certainly didn’t give up «What are you? Her boyfriend?!».

«Yes».

You were glad that Kazutora’s whole attention was fixed on the man, because you had grown three shades darker after the statement he had just given. 

He undoubtedly had just meant it to have the dude leaving you alone - it was less likely that he’d come again if he knew that your boyfriend might just hang around - still… still, you had broken his heart and he probably felt insulted.

And yet, he had rushed to save you. To ensure your safety.

«Wh… what?» the man seemed utterly confused as his gaze ran from Kazutora to you «… she never… she never mentioned it and I… I haven’t seen you around and…».

«Because unlike your fucking lazy ass I have a job» oh he certainly wasn’t withholding punches and you were undoubtedly enjoying this far more than you let on «… and you shouldn’t leave a woman alone simply because she has a girlfriend. You should fucking leave her alone because she has asked you so».

Creepy customer suddenly looked like he needed to run, as Kazutora released his hold on his arm, pushing him towards the entrance and after a moment of further stalling the man went on to run for the wind, having you - after he was at a safe distance - heave a loud laugh that felt in part hysterical.

It had been… so heavy on your mind and suddenly… that man had run away with his tail between his legs… 

You sobered up quickly as you took in sight of a rather awkward Kazutora looking down at his shoes while standing in the entryway of your bakery, looking like he might have as well been at fault for the events of the night. The sole thought got you to speak up through the awkwardness of your situation.

«Thanks» your voice wavered a bit and you made a small peep talk to yourself to tell yourself to keep it inside, not to cry in front of Kazutora just like that «… sorry, that… sorry that you had to deal with that shitshow I… just… sorry. Truly. I can finish closing up and then…».

«I should be the one saying sorry» his voice sounded genuinely horrified and hadn’t you been so afraid that physical contact would have had an adverse reaction, you’d have gone past the counter to quickly hug him tightly to yourself, cupping his cheeks tenderly and reassuring him that he had nothing to be sorry for «… I didn’t… well, when I said that I was your boyfriend and all…».

«He wouldn’t have backed off, you know?» instead you stated facts «As much as I dread the thought of it… hadn’t you mentioned it, he’d have still come back tomorrow impenitent begging me for a date».

Kazutora’s genuine discomfort shifted into something else as your eyes met but for a moment and you saw a thoughtful expression on his face, while you went to try to busy yourself with doing what else you needed for closing time. 

If you being seemingly busy helped this situation being less awkward, you’d have gone through everything - even collecting lint from closed boxes - to spend some time with him without having him look at you as if you had grown two heads.

«It has… has it been going on for a long time?» albeit it was a genuine question, you could tell the obvious undertone beneath it.

«A week… maybe two…» you didn’t enjoy lying and you were awful at it, hence you ended up blurting out «… maybe even a month…».

«And you didn’t tell us?» he seemed honestly indignant and you felt a reprimand coming through although Kazutora’s voice soon came again, a bit less charged «I mean… I get why you might not want to tell me, but I… Chifuyu… he could… well, there was… stuff that could have been done. You didn’t deserve to be harassed and…».

«It’s fine, I… I didn’t… I thought I could handle it, you know?» and somehow you muttered the words that you didn’t think that regarded only the situation at hand but also whatever weird shit was going on between you and Kazutora «I am stronger than I look, you know?».

Hooked and sunk as your eyes met over the counter for a brief moment before Kazutora’s own were quick to return to the tip of his own shoes. 

You’d have teased him asking him what he found so interesting in them, but held back.

«… I… well, I do know that».

«Didn’t seem so» you shot back a bit spiteful as you finished with the checkups and picked up the money from the cash register before going to shed your usual uniform and grab your coat «Either way… he won’t be a problem anymore and I am glad of it because I was running out of excuses to…».

«What did you mean when you said that?».

You were halfway through walking past him when he swiftly grabbed your wrist, not that differently from how the creepy customer had. 

Except this time, you had been secretly wishing for him to stop you.

«… that night I mean… I… when you drank with Chif…».

«I know what night you are talking about» maybe you were a bit of a brat, although just a few minutes before you had wished to treat Kazutora as a frail animal, but there was also the question that you had had a long day and the sudden confrontation… oh… how it felt like the final stone on your shoulders «And I… I also… am sorry if it offended you and… well…I didn’t mean anything bad, but it must… it probably sounded like…».

«I know it was naive but I…» he stopped you halfway as you fully turned to face him, startled when golden eyes met your own as he had finally gotten his face off his own shoes «… but for all the time that we were roommates I desperately hoped you wouldn’t… you wouldn’t find out».

There was no need to clarify what he was implying, and you didn’t treat him like an idiot by pretending you had no clue what he was talking about.

«Chifuyu told me that he… well, he had disclosed about what… where I have been the past ten years» he explained promptly, ducked his head for a moment before raising it again but his eyes didn’t meet your own and suddenly the urge to simply cradle him in your arms was enough to have you clenching your fists by your side «… but I don’t know… the way that you treated me… it made me think that maybe… just maybe you might not have known».

«Kazutora…» you said softly, sending what you wished for the barest of caresses on his own way «… how… how else should I have looked at you?».

«With fear and horror» he was quick to shoot back «I am not… I did awful things. I am not a good man».

«Well, around the first statement, I can’t exactly… it’d be a lie to say that you didn’t do them» you said careful as you moved onto uncharted paths «… but I… I just can’t seem to agree with the second phrase».

That startled Kazutora enough to have his eyes widen as he gasped softly. A sound that had you flustered as you imagined it in a wholly other contest.

Which was the last thing you needed at the moment, as you gently bridged the distance between the two of you, noticing that all through this Kazutora’s grip on your wrist had loosened, it still stayed, comfortingly. 

You wondered whether you could slip your hand out of it, just to readjust your grip and hold onto his own.

«… what? I… no, you can’t… you can’t truly believe that» he stated as he took a step back for each one you had moved forward, inevitably and clumsily dragging you as well «I was in a bikers gang».

«So was Chifuyu and you know how much saintly he can be, can’t you» you replied quickly «… although he leaves his fucking dirty socks by the hamper instead of in them and definitely leaves you on ‘read’ because he saw a cute cat».

«Well, this isn’t about Chifuyu» you could tell that this whole thing was frustrating him as he didn’t know how to handle it properly «I am just saying that it’s better if you stay away from me and…».

«… I don’t think that you have the power to do that» you smirked back «We live in the same apartment».

«I’ll find a new one» he promptly shot back and with the swiftness that he used you worried for a moment that he might have been thinking all this time about moving away. 

Because you had put him at unease… because he couldn’t… because… 

«I… I don’t want things to change and I can’t… I couldn’t handle it if they were, now that I know you… are aware of my past and…».

«Why would they have to change?» another frustrating question from the way Kazutora’s teeth grinded one against the other.

«Don’t play coy» he seethed lightly «You know what I am fucking capable of…».

«I have also seen you with a sac-a-poche» you shot back trying to light up the atmosphere «You ain’t that deadly with your hands, Kazutora».

«What if I told you that I wanted to fucking pound him to the ground».

It felt like a switch that had gone off in his mind, the way his grip on your wrist tightened and he used it to bring you forcefully closer till he was in your face. 

You should have felt scared and terrified but there was a deep pit in the way your belly fluttered as Kazutora’s hair fell onto his face with the motion.

«I just couldn’t… because you were fucking here, but if I ever met him in a fucking dark alley, he better pray for…».

«That still doesn’t make you a bad man, Kazutora» you spoke attentively and slowly, hoping that your words would it where you wished them to «… you’d have done it to protect me, wouldn’t you».

«That doesn’t excuse it».

«And your actions don’t mean that you are a bad man» you insisted instead, using your free hand to tentatively push back a few strands of hair and then settle onto his cheek, feeling the way his whole body leaned into you. 

He might have been beastly at traits but there was something downright erotic in the way you somehow had the reins of his control.

«… how can you be a bad man when you worry so much about silly little me?».

And like that he breathed in, deeply for the first time, as his eyes fluttered closed while he turned gently to lay his whole head against it.

«If you don’t want this, I… you can… you should tell me. Push me, punch me or…».

«Hhm, why are you so convinced I don’t know what I want, Kazutora?» you mused softly, taking in the soft scene in front of you as you moved the final step to bridge the distance and on top of it, you were quick to finally make true on the wish to hold his hand as your own traveled to meet it «… I know it all, I know what you have done and what you caused with the hands I am holding, but I am still doing it, am I not?».

«You will regret it».

«Right now the sole thing that I regret is not having let you be a bit berserk on the creepy dude» you giggled softly, breathing warm air onto his face as his eyes opened lazily, something akin to a dangerous smirk on his face, as it required some echoes of the past «… would have been pretty hot».

«Didn’t know you were… that way».

Oh how you flustered, quickly ditching the whole sinking boat as you took a step back and adjusted the coat with the same hand that had been laid on his pretty face.

«Alright, I… Chifuyu will probably think that you got lost on the way here or…».

«I don’t mind it».

You were surprised when Kazutora tugged onto your still joined hands to gain back your attention.

The way he mused for it had you thinking that he looked like a misbehaving pup and you couldn’t help but giggle awkwardly.

«… if you don’t mind my… flaws as well…».

«You are calling that a flaw?».

«Fucked in the head would work better?».

«So, ahem… should I sleep somewhere else tonight?».

You both were startled as you turned slowly - as in a horror movie - to find your shared friend at the entrance of your bakery, looking definitely a bit too happy for having just caught his two roommates insulting each other. 

Still, both you and Kazutora knew that you had been caught, hanging your head low as you muttered a quick apology for your tardiness.

«And that won’t be necessary, little missie over here thinks I am hot just when I fight dude in her honor».

«I never said such a thing!».

[nichyevosobachka]

Imagine Sturmhond having a parrot and the bird saying his most said things repeatedly. You're gonna hear "Privateer!!" randomly in the middle of the night or "Improbable!" "Damnable handsome!" Idk why but this makes me laugh so much xD

[fairytales-and-folklore]

Spooky Scary Sourwolf

Teen Wolf » Sterek

Title: Spooky Scary Sourwolf 

Author: fairytalesandfolklore

Fandom: Teen Wolf (Masterlist)

Relationship: Derek Hale x Stiles Stilinski

AO3 Rating: Teen & Up (a complete collection of author's notes, inspiration credits, content warnings and tags can be found on AO3)

Summary: It's October, which means Stiles is officially 80% more annoying than he normally is at any other time of the year. This Halloween, Stiles's new obsession is some dance party remix of the song Spooky Scary Skeletons. It's a catchy tune, even Derek will admit that. But after hearing it blasted through Roscoe's shitty speakers for the hundredth time that week, everyone in the pack is sick to death of it, especially Derek. He's got no choice but to resort to drastic measures.

He squeezes his eyes shut, preparing to be eaten, preparing for the foul breath of some horrible fanged monster, but it's actually — huh, minty fresh. And — that's interesting — the weight pressed on top of him is very familiar, his body responding to it in a way entirely ill-befitting to getting murdered. He opens one bleary eye to find none other than Derek hovering above him, shit-eating grin plastered across his stupid handsome face. "Gotcha," he says, smirking as Stiles struggles to break free. "That'll teach you to fuck with my phone settings. Now, change it back from that godawful song, or I'll make good on my promise to rip your throat out with my teeth."

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It's October, which means Stiles is officially 80% more annoying than he normally is at any other time of the year. Whether it's taking autumn decorating from Pinterest-worthy to hoarder with a Halloween fetish (how many pumpkins is too many pumpkins? — according to Stiles, the limit does not exist) making himself sick on too much Halloween candy (because the idiot always buys two bowls worth of candy — one to hand out to trick-or-treaters, and one he keeps all to himself) or driving his packmates insane with some new Halloween themed internet craze, Stiles always goes way over the top when it comes to spooky season (or spoopy season, as Stiles likes to call it, despite Derek's many protests.)

This Halloween, Stiles's new obsession is some dance party remix of the song Spooky Scary Skeletons. It's a catchy tune, even Derek will admit that. But after hearing it blasted through Roscoe's shitty speakers for the hundredth time that week, everyone in the pack is sick to death of it, especially Derek. 

It would maybe, maybe be tolerable if it was only contained to car rides, but it's literally everywhere. He's always singing it in the shower, humming it under his breath during pack meetings, glued to his phone watching reels and tiktoks of other people performing funny little dances to it. 

The little shit even found a way to set it as Derek's ringtone, finding any excuse he can to call him as often as possible so it's just constantly going off. Derek, being the technologically illiterate one in the relationship, doesn't know how to change it back, and of course Stiles refuses to do it, because he thinks it's hilarious.

"Stiles, I swear to God, if you don't change it back, I'll give you something to really be scared about," Derek threatens, but the sound of that damnable ringtone duetting with Stiles's giddy laughter drowns him out.

Derek can't take it anymore. He's got no choice but to resort to drastic measures.

The next day, Stiles gets a text from Derek, luring him over with the promise of pumpkin-shaped sugar cookies and Hocus Pocus. But when Stiles gets there, Derek is nowhere to be found. He lets himself in with his copy of the keys, wandering around in the pitch black, calling out Derek's name, but there's no answer. Derek's loft is normally very warm and inviting, but with all the lights off, it's admittedly kind of creepy. Stiles tries the light switch, but no matter which direction he flips it, nothing happens. The power must've gone out — in the whole building, from the looks of it. 

The place is feeling more and more like Derek's old digs in the abandoned railway station, growing creepier by the second, and Stiles's feeling of dread along with it. High above him, a raven caws as it flutters through an open window, and Stiles lets out a startled screech, dropping his phone (his only source of light) in the process. He's definitely on edge now, hands shaking as he reaches for his phone and dials Derek's number. Spooky Scary Skeletons starts playing from some distant corner of the room — muffled, like he's hearing it through an old gramophone. Derek never picks up.

Stiles is definitely starting to panic now, heartbeat pounding in his ears, palms sweating as he struggles to keep a good grip on his phone. He hits redial and tries to follow the sound of the once-amusing ringtone, but there doesn't seem to be a distinct source — it's like it's coming from everywhere and nowhere all at once.

A sudden break in the silence steals his attention to the far corner of the room — an eerie skittering sound, like a stone being skipped across concrete — and Stiles jumps. A few seconds later, it happens again. Over and over again, growing closer and closer, until something drops from the ceiling and lands with a deafening clink right by his feet — a loose bolt that looks like it came from one of the rafters. 

Slowly, swallowing against the terror lodged in his throat, Stiles glances upward, and lets out a scream to rival a banshee's. The last thing he sees before he hits the ground is a pair of bright red eyes glowing menacingly in the dark. The creature pounces on him, sitting bodily on his thighs, pinning his arms above his head, and oh fuck, this is how he dies. This creature took out his super hot werewolf boyfriend, and now it's going to take him out, too.

He squeezes his eyes shut, preparing to be eaten, preparing for the foul breath of some horrible fanged monster, but it's actually — huh, minty fresh. And — that's interesting — the weight pressed on top of him is very familiar, his body responding to it in a way entirely ill-befitting to getting murdered. He opens one bleary eye to find none other than Derek hovering above him, shit-eating grin plastered across his stupid handsome face.

"Gotcha," he says, smirking as Stiles struggles to break free long enough to knee him in the balls. "That'll teach you to fuck with my phone settings. Now, change it back from that godawful song, or I'll make good on my promise to rip your throat out with my teeth."

Derek's smile is positively wolfish, moonlight glinting silver off his half-shifted fangs. Stiles goes still, staring up at him with one eyebrow arched in provocation.

"How very…spooky of you," he says, eyes alight with mischief as an impish grin curls across his face.

"No," Derek groans, gleeful expression fading to one of pure horror. "Don't do it."

"Spooky scary sourwolf," Stiles intones in a lilting sing-song voice, before bursting into peals of laughter. 

Derek heaves a long-suffering sigh and rolls over onto the floor next to him.

"I'm divorcing you," Derek decides, reaching out across the space between them to link his pinky finger with Stiles's.

"We're not even married," Stiles points out, nudging Derek's shoulder with his own.

"I will marry you for the sole purpose of divorcing you," Derek compromises.

Stiles barks out a laugh and looks over at him, eyes as bright as his smile.

"I want an autumn wedding," he says, absentmindedly rubbing circles over Derek's ring finger with the pad of his thumb.

"Fine," Derek replies with a tone that suggests gruff indifference, features softening as a smile works its way onto his face.

A few moments pass between them in companionable silence, the two of them gazing up at the mosaic of a starry night sky filtering in through the wall of windows at the far edge of Derek's loft.

"I'm thinking chocolate," Derek proposes, glancing over at Stiles with a guarded, hopeful look in his eyes. "For the wedding cake."

"Oh absolutely," Stiles agrees, his answering smile nothing short of beatific.

"And do you know what song I want for our first dance as husband and sourhusband?" he asks, lips pressed together in a failed attempt to hold back a tidal wave of laughter.

"Oh no," Derek groans, but Stiles has already taken out his phone and pressed play, Spooky Scary Skeletons blaring out of the speakers in a tinny warble. He didn't think it was possible to have a full-blown one-person dance party while lying on a concrete floor, but if anyone can manage it, it's Stiles. Derek glances over at him, eyes crinkling at the corners as he watches Stiles flail his airborne arms and legs to the music, and sighs. One day, he's going to marry this lunatic.

[darsynia]

Oh it's gotta be Tony🥰

#48 kisses to shut them up

Victorian AU

I swear I don't know what I expected but to have Tony sweep me creatively off my feet. Tony/Reader, Austenesque language, 1,500 words. FFS. I give you, Arranged

MCU | TONY | BUCKY | STEVE

Excerpt:

“My dear lady, I’m affronted!”

“You will recover, my lord,” you inform him, spreading some honey on one of the scones in your basket. With a bite of sweet and a deft subject change on your part, Lord Anthony will forget his foolish mission and remember he is also your friend.

“How would you know, you’ve barely laid eyes on me,” he says, feigning petulance.

You raise your eyes to regard the man. He is, as always, impeccably dressed, handsome as a satyr, and the architect of your own heart’s ruination. At ten years your senior and your brother’s dearest friend besides, there’s no hope for that, so you school your features to neutrality as usual, offering him a cool nod.

Then he smiles at you and all resolve is lost.

ARRANGED

The good thing about being the beloved ‘spinster’ sister of a sometimes surly Viscount is that the gossipmongers don’t harass you about your marriage prospects.

The bad thing about being the beloved ‘spinster’ sister of a sometimes surly Viscount is that one can become a slight bit complacent about the idea of remaining unmarried.

It appears that your sense of peace in such matters is finally at an end. Just minutes before your guests were set to arrive, your kind, generous, conflict-avoidant brother brought up the touchy subject of matrimonial bliss. Not only did he express doubt that you could live a fulfilled life as ‘merely’ the aunt to his delightful children, but he framed the question as one of your own happiness. He even dismissed your argument that a person can live a fulfilled life without a spouse, as his dearest friend is quite content being unmarried! The only difference between yourself and Lord Anthony is that of gender; you are perfectly well set up by the inheritance your father laid aside for you before his untimely death.

Bruce, clever as he is, knows you wouldn’t risk setting off his temper right before a gathering, so now the damnable concept of marriage will float above your head like a cloud throughout the picnic.

You settle yourself with a small basket in a quiet section of the picnic grounds, near enough to a copse of trees that you could retreat with a book if necessary.

The peace doesn’t last.

“There you are! Your esteemed brother--”

“No.” You don’t even allow Lord Anthony to continue, because as always, here there be dragons. The man is a roadmap to frustration, even if the journey is frequently amusing.

“My dear lady, I’m affronted!”

“You will recover, my lord,” you inform him, spreading some honey on one of the scones in your basket. With a bite of sweet and a deft subject change on your part, Lord Anthony will forget his foolish mission and remember he is also your friend.

“How would you know, you’ve barely laid eyes on me,” he says, feigning petulance.

You raise your eyes to regard the man. He is, as always, impeccably dressed, handsome as a satyr, and the architect of your own heart’s ruination. At ten years your senior and your brother’s dearest friend besides, there’s no hope for that, so you school your features to neutrality as usual, offering him a cool nod.

Then he smiles at you and all resolve is lost.

Twisting your lips to the side to avoid smiling from the joy he sets loose in your chest, you hold up the scone. “Bruce is merely suffering from a fit of conscience. It will pass.”

“He wishes for your happiness.”

“I wish the same for him! The best way to achieve that is for the subject to be dropped.”

Speaking with his mouth full, Tony says, “He told me he may need to look to his peers for a good prospect.” You rise to your feet, instantly furious, but your tormentor holds up both hands in surrender. After a few seconds of glaring stand-off, he starts to lick honey off of his thumb.

You turn your back on him in a show of pique, as well as to conceal your reaction to his display.

“If you’re so distressed, I suppose I could offer for your hand,” Tony says casually.

You’ve never spun on your heel faster in your life. “You wish to end your friendship with both of us so thoroughly, then?” you gasp out, hurt at the level of cruelty in his jest. 

“How so? It seems the simplest of arrangements to me,” he says, pulling out his handkerchief to dab at the corners of his mouth. You’re certain he’s doing it to hide his amusement, so you step forward, accusatory.

“Bruce will threaten to tear you limb from limb for the very suggestion, and I--”

Tony’s expression sharpens, eyes fixed on yours. “And you?”

You scoff, speechless. How dare he mock you and sully his association with your family in this way? Without speaking a word, you gather your skirts and stalk off toward the trees to signal the end of the conversation. You’re a wounded animal, struck in the heart, and you wish to be left alone to bleed out.

He calls your name, but your steps don’t even falter. Only when you’re surrounded by the familiar trees in this part of the grounds do you stop, resting your back against one and bowing your head.

Tony says your name softly, his voice very close.

“Leave me be,” you whisper. “Take your japes elsewhere.”

“I haven’t made any.”

You hug your arms, feeling defensive and exposed. This is nothing like the casual banter and deep philosophical discussions the two of you usually engage in. “I would rather you tell Bruce he’s lost all sense and to forget the whole business than give him the impression you would ever--” your resolve falters. Naming a thing gives it power, when there are so many possible descriptions of it. Lord Anthony would likely pity you if he could discern your true opinion of him.

“Go on,” Tony says. His tone is low, as he steps closer. ‘Dangerous’ is as apt a descriptor of him in this moment as any ever has been.

Escape hadn’t worked, so it’s time to fight back, it seems. “Your presence in this area is practically a scandal, friendly association with our family or not,” you tell him, lifting your chin.

Tony steps forward again, resting his hand on the tree next to yours to lean in and whisper, conspiratorially, “I thought I just proposed to you.”

You’ve burned for him in secret for years, and now he’s put you in a position to argue against his farce of a ‘proposal?’ Your fury is incandescent. 

“You manifestly did not! You--”

Tony dips his head and swiftly steals the words right from your lips, pulling back to declare, “I did. You must not have been paying attention.”

Your lips are buzzing, your head is spinning, and you can’t breathe. You close your eyes tightly. “You have had too much sun, my lord. I suggest that you--”

This time you have the barest of warnings before his lips touch yours, the soft brush of his fingertips angling your face toward him. This kiss is nothing like his earlier teases. There’s heat, intention, and oh, a sweetness that has nothing to do with the honey you know he’d just had. 

If it wasn’t for the tree at your back, you don’t know how you would remain upright--but just as you think this, Tony catches your clenched fist in his hand and brings it to his collar. The act is fond, familiar, and you pull your head back to blink up at him, charmed but confused.

“I have had too much sun,” Tony says, his brown eyes more sincere than you’ve ever seen them. “You shine brighter than any other jewel, and I cannot allow you to be placed in any other setting than mine. I had thought to trick you with a mutually beneficial agreement and woo you into complacency, but I lost my head.”

“I--I don’t know how to believe you,” you whisper, but the shock-melted pleasure in your veins calls you a liar.

Tony brushes his nose with yours in a mischievous caress, then pushes off of the trees, throws his arms out beside him and says, “Have my hand, fair maiden? My heart, however tarnished, is already yours.”

Your own heart aches, for though this is more believable, it’s still in the realm of Lord Anthony Stark’s well-known impish sense of humor, however cruel that might be. Before you can speak, though, he lets out a long breath and nods.

“No, I see, I recognize-- I am quite serious. All you see here, the lightness, the jesting, it’s fear. My happiness lies in your hands, you see. It has for quite a while. When your brother expressed his concern, I--”

“You panicked,” you realize aloud. “Oh, Tony. I know that fear quite well. It inhabited me every summer the marriageable young ladies flocked to your banner. If you--”

“No ifs!”

You finally feel strong enough to stand on your own two feet without the tree or Tony to bear you up, so you step toward him, lifting your eyebrows. “Aha! I could make up anything to finish that sentence of mine, and you would be caught, my lord.”

“A more pleasant outcome couldn’t be fathomed,” he teases back. Then, quietly, “Marry me?”

Your smile of teasing pride is matched only by Tony’s when you respond, “I do believe that can be arranged.”

[sky-kiss]

I have to be lame and ask for some Soft!Raphael, or at least as soft as he can be. If you please.

A/N: Short one, GN Tav.

______

“Wait.”

Tav stops. The severity of his voice catches them off guard. Raphael’s brow furrows, lips pressed to a thin line. He holds his hand out, imperious and handsome and such a contrast to Tav’s current state- dirtied, bloodied, and so damnably tired. 

Raphael doesn’t take a step towards them. Tav must be the one to make the effort. It’s the core principle of their relationship, unchanging in the face of everything else. They frown, returning to his side—the cambion tuts. “Look at you,” he grumbles, and there’s more disappointed headmaster than devil-king in his tone. “I need not remind you: the clumsy mouse inevitably catches the cat’s claws. And you, my dear,” he brushes a streak of dirt with his thumb. “Have proven quite clumsy.” 

Tav turns into the touch without thinking. It’s instinct. He’s warm. The touch has the illusion of kindness and care, and that’s more than they’re used to. Raphael blinks, caught off guard. The devil regards them with more pressing curiosity. 

“Anything to say for yourself? Should this lack of self-preservation be of concern?”  

They smile. “I wouldn’t go that far. I’m not dead yet.” 

“Damnably faint praise, sweetling.” He smiles, tracking his knuckles across their cheek. “I won’t have my asset wasting away. Come, sit, make merry.” 

Tav shakes their head. “My friends are expecting me.” 

“If not for your own sake, hero, then for mine.” Raphael’s voice drops to a low purr, his free hand settling at the small of their back. It’s an unfair trick; he knows what he’s done. He must hear the thunder of their heart. The delicate glitter in his eyes says that is precisely the case. “Indulge an old devil.” He motions to the lavish pool. Steam wafts off the overheated water, accompanied by the scent of roses. “Please.”

Hearing the devil ask for anything makes their stomach twist in inexplicable knots. Tav chews the inside of their cheek, letting him walk them towards the pool. “Just for a few minutes…” 

“Of course, my dear. I wouldn’t dream of asking for more. Only a moment, and then you can be back on your merry way, crusading across the Sword Coast…” He brings their hand to his lips, kissing the backs of their knuckles. “But for now, do avail yourself of these creature comforts. I provide for my own, you see.” 

[wormtitty]

Kinktober Day 12: Touch starved (Armand/Lestat)

on AO3 here.

He shouldn’t be so easily enthralled by this stranger, this fledgling that has infiltrated his coven, torn it apart at the seams. But he is handsome and charming and ignorant; and Armand wants to disassemble him piece by piece, cut him free of his old flesh, drape him in something new - something that belongs to him . 

Despite his vow, and his desire to never bring another into the darkness, he wishes Lestat was his. Wishes it was Armand’s blood in his veins, His to guide and cachetize, his to watch over every night. 

He has already shown such improvement, growing to appreciate the separations between their world and that of the mortals. He no longer walks the streets at all hours, has brought an end to his leading role on the stage, and is learning to live with the acrimony from his own fledgling.

What strength Lestat must have had as a mortal boy, to remain so undisturbed and seek connection with him in this desolate place. To be so confident in his desires. He appeared to live without fear, carving out a place for himself in the coven with ease. The others had endeared him to themselves within days. 

Armand, of course, was no exception. Lestat had been his shadow since that night beneath the cemetery, just after his dear Nicholas had been brought into the blood. He sought to learn everything from him, through his blood, if not his words. Armand thought himself not easily persuaded, but his attention and affection were slowly peeling away his layers of protection.

He was falling rapidly and damnably in love with this young thing. 

For hundreds of years he had lived in reverent fear of  the flame, seen its light but never strayed close enough to feel its heat. A great distance always separated him from the blaze when he was compelled to use that particular gift. So much so that he had forgotten the lick of warmth on his skin until Lestat swept him up in this affair, constantly bringing him to his lavish rooms where candles lined every surface, illuminating everything in a sensual glow. 

Lestat was drawn to a life of luxury, draping himself in bold colors and extravagant fabrics, and he wished to surround himself with those that presented themselves in the same way. This became something of a difficult matter when he was faced with an entire coven of vampires that believed themselves deserving of filth. 

It was weeks of dragging Armand to the baths before he saw much progress in that regard. It took him just as long to realize that the elder vampire was being stubborn on purpose. After that first time he’d stripped down and joined him in the water, Armand took great pleasure in drawing out Lestat’s frustrations. 

He’d simply sat motionless in the bath, refusing to wet his hair or scrub the grime from his skin. Lestat had paced around him, spinning a whinging tale of how the mortal world would more readily accept their theatre if he would just put in more of an effort to look presentable. 

Armand waited him out until Lestat dumped a pail of water over his head. He sputtered, caught off-guard and irritated, soothed only by the sensation of another body slipping down next to him, fingers firm but gentle on his scalp.

This was another thing he’d forgotten - the pleasures of the flesh. 

For years he had only felt the touch of another during the hunt, and only the most necessary of contact was accepted in the forms of claws ripping through flesh and clothes; fangs piercing into skin, brutal and efficient. 

The Children of Darkness were no exception to this rule. Most of them knew better than to seek physical affection with their leader, and those who did not were succinctly turned away.

Then came Lestat with his grand ideas, and beautiful face, and all of those boundaries seemed to slip away with the water in the Seine. All he had to do was approach him at a low point, and offer his company when all others had left him. His blood was sweet with promise on Armand’s tongue, and he knew then that he would do anything to keep Lestat at his side.

He would even forsake the familiarity of sleeping beneath the earth of that cemetery to spend his days alongside this voracious young thing that called him “teacher”. The first time Lestat had led him hand in hand into a rented room, he stood immobile in the center of it, overcome. Armand had not seen such opulence in over 200 years. 

Lestat had busied himself with lighting his dozens of candles, oblivious to the state of stunned astonishment Armand found himself in. 

As with all matters, the novelty of Lestat’s taste wore off in short order, becoming just another thing Armand had grown accustomed to; ribbons in his hair, fine fabrics on his body, and a soft bed to share with his lover. 

Lestat took great joy in showing Armand just what he’d been missing in all his years of celibacy. Of course he had not forgotten the many ways to take pleasure from the flesh, but it had been so long that every touch now felt new and fresh, devastating in their intensity.

He was frequently overwhelmed with the most innocent of caresses; Lestat slipping gentle fingers under his shirtsleeves would send shivers up the length of his arm and a deep flush to his face.  

“You are so terribly old-fashioned,” He loved to say. 

And this was true. A touch to his bare wrist could render Armand speechless in a matter of seconds. In the early days of their affair, he would freeze at the first kiss of the night, stolen easily as Lestat woke from slumber.  

This delighted Lestat endlessly, smirk pulling at the corners of his lips as he rolled the entire length of his body over Armand’s, letting his weight settle over him completely. His clever mouth leaving great wet kisses over his face, a dumbstruck expression fixed to it for a few moments before he becomes an active participant; scrabbling at Lestat’s back for purchase and searching out those full lips with his own. 

Just a few kisses, each one more delicious than the previous, was enough to have Armand panting into his mouth. He was a mess, squirming beneath Lestat, shaking all over as if he had never been touched like this before. Arousal simmered deep in his belly, filling him with a pressing heat that felt as if it would overwhelm him completely. 

He had him begging in minutes, a slew of “Touch me, touch me, touch me,” spilling out of him in a chant like a prayer. 

“Your desires are so simple,” Lestat teased, acquiescing immediately and lining up the lengths of their bodies on the bed. 

Armand whined high in his throat, feeling the bloodhot press of Lestat’s shaft against his own. They writhed together like that for some time, trading gasping kisses between lips slick with pink-tinged saliva.

By the time Lestat had gotten his hand around them both, Armand was babbling incomprehensibly into his shoulder, fragments of sentences that sounded an awful lot like “love you,” and “mine, mine, mine,” and “love me, love me, please.”

He found his release in the first stroke, the pleasure shaky and feverish as it washed over him in waves. Lestat’s hand sticky and red between them, still working at his own member until he bit down on Armand’s shoulder, muffling a long groan into his flesh. 

It was always still in the aftermath, quiet as they gathered their composure. With Armand’s mind fully back in his body, he thread his fingers through Lestat’s hair, pulling his head back to look him in the eyes. 

“I do mean it. I love you, quite desperately.” 

Lestat buried his face back in his throat, pressing a kiss to the skin there. 

[witchywithwhiskey]

Ok but Logan and his cigar & sleazy landlord bucky sounds so intriguing 👀🤭

eee i talked about my logan & his cigar wip fic here, but i will absolutely talk about sleazy landlord bucky!!! it's inspired by this photo + convo from a...while ago. the whole fic is essentially inspired by seb's look at sdcc this year.

i have the full first draft done, but something in it isn't really working. when i was writing it, i was struggling with how sleazy i wanted to make bucky and how far i wanted to push the line of dubcon and whether i wanted to go full noncon. i struggle a lot writing dubcon/noncon fics because, for me, there's a line where it becomes no longer enjoyable to write. add to that, my instinct is always to add in a level of softness or sweetness, especially at the end of a sex scene, but it doesn't always make sense for the characters and it can make a fic tonally inconsistent.

so yeah, i needed to put some space between me and this fic so i can come back to it with, hopefully, a fresh perspective and a better idea of what i want the tone to be and where i want the line to be with bucky's sleaziness.

hopefully i'll get back to it eventually! for now, here's a little snippet (18+ content ahead):

“Y’know, doll, there are other ways you could pay me.”

For a moment, your brain stuttered over the words, refusing to process the insinuation beneath them. When you finally did, you recoiled as if you’d been slapped, the flames of embarrassment rising fast and fierce in your cheeks. 

“Excuse me?” you forced out, your voice a high squeak.

Bucky huffed a laugh, his eyes finally deigning to meet yours, after he’d spent the better part of five minutes staring at your tits and bare thighs like he wanted to undress you with his gaze alone. He scrubbed a palm over the short scruff surrounding hi mouth, your eyes dropping to the movement. He dragged his thumb along his lower lip, and you couldn’t help but bite yours as you realized just how soft and kissable his mouth looked.

It was only when he chuckled that you realized he’d done it on purpose, kept your attention his mouth, and you looked away, the prickling heat of shame nipping at the back of your neck. 

“We both know you heard me loud and clear,” Bucky rumbled, his voice gruffer and more gravelly than it had been even a moment before. Your eyes flicked to his face, and the corner of his mouth kicked up in a smirk, his hand sliding down the front of his body—your gaze following all along—until he grabbed the slight bulge in the front of his slacks. “I’ll take another form of payment, but you have to offer it up willingly, baby doll.” 

Your eyes widened and a different kind of heat warred against the blaze of embarrassment, sinking down between your thighs and making you squirm as you felt the telltale beginnings of wetness starting to gather between your lower lips. You were so concerned about your body’s reaction that you didn’t notice you were still staring at Bucky’s bulge, not until he chuckled, the patronizing sound washing over you and making tingles of desire burst throughout your core.

“C’mon, doll, don’t play dumb with me,” Bucky cajoled, squeezing his half-hard cock hard enough you could see it twitch through his pants, and you immediately looked away, your gaze rising back to your landlord’s handsome face. That damnable smirk was still fixed on his mouth and his eyes were watching you closely. “Make me an offer I can’t refuse, and this little problem with your rent can just go away.” 

thanks for playing my WIPs ask game!!

[vulpine-gentleman]

every bit of writing about the revolutionary firebrand is like "HAVE WE MENTIONED HIS JAWLINE? HIS DAMNABLE CHISELED JAWLINE? HIS HANDSOME JAW?"

[kaitlinamberxo]

“He’s damnably handsome. Brave in battle, smart as a whip. An excellent dancer, oh, and an even better shot.”

kaitlin's 100 favorite fictional muses — 97/100: Nikolai Lantsov / Sturmhond

[lovelyladyabsinthewrites]

Wrap Around Pt.1

Pairing(s): Oberyn Martell x Martell!Reader, Oberyn Martell x Ellaria Sand

Warnings: siblingxsibling implied, longing

Words: 2033

Summary: Oberyn was beside himself at the return of his baby sister (y/n). For a year she had been off in Essos, experiencing the rest of the world outside of the safety of Sunspear. Now she was returning to Dorne. Returning to Oberyn.

PLEASE DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE SENSITIVE TO ANY OF THE WARNINGS/TAGS

Part 2   Part 3   Part 4

“Her ship still isn’t here yet?” Irritated, Oberyn makes the servant squirm uncomfortably under his scrutinizing gaze. Normally Oberyn was quick to please and in a jolly mood. There was none of that.

“No, your Grace. Her ship seems to be lagging.” He awkwardly informs the Prince of Dorne.

Near the archway of his chambers, Ellaria was lounging on a long, cushioned bench. She watches as the poor boy flees once given permission by Oberyn. “Calm down, my love. The ship will get here when it gets here. You yelling at squires won’t make it sail any faster.”

His brow was tense on his handsome face. “I haven’t seen my baby sister in a year. I need to see her face. It’s been far too long.”

Ellaria coles and rises, her robes flowing after her as she glides over to Oberyn. Hands smooth out Oberyn’s knotted shoulders. (y/n)’s initial departure had been hard enough on Oberyn. For days after Ellaria stayed by his side as he longed for his sister. Now that she was returning, he was once more growing impatient on her arrival.

She kisses the length of his neck, feeling his form relax under her touch. “You know how arduous traveling by sea is. The wait will be worth it once you see her.”

Closing his eyes, Oberyn sighs and allows Ellaria to lead him to a chair. Dutifully pouring him a goblet of rich Dornish red. Dark as blood but oh so sweet on the tongue.

He should have never let (y/n) leave for Essos. She claimed that she wanted to see more of the world and since she was not allowed to go to Westeros on her own (Oberyn had already lost one sister there, he wasn’t going to lose another), her brothers relented. Giving her a ship to Essos was safer than having her travel in Westeros where Lannisters and Tyrells could easily prey upon her. For so long after Elia’s death, Oberyn kept her safe in Dorne. No one would dare to take his young sister from their own home. (y/n) wanted to spread her wings though. Too headstrong to be tethered down. She was not delicate like Doran and Elia had been. There was venom in her, a will that couldn’t be broken, nor did Oberyn ever want to. He loved (y/n), faults and all of her fire.

“If she comes back with a boy, you must promise not to hurt him.” Ellaria suddenly muses while petting his dark head.

The thought hadn’t even occurred to Oberyn before. (y/n) was of perfect marrying age and much like himself had a healthy carnal appetite. What if she had decided to bring someone home? Perhaps when she visited Trystane in Norvos where his mother lived their nephew might have introduced her to someone. A beautiful foreigner that peaked her interests enough for her to want to bring them home. It made Oberyn’s stomach drop.

“Then the boy must be ready to prove himself. No man is worthy of my sister if they are not prepared to fight me.”

Ellaria knew that there was more to it. Expert hands fann on his broad shoulders and begin to knead them. “Even here, feelings like that are looked down upon.” They never spoke about it. Hardly brought it up because of the sadness that followed. Incest was rife in Westeros, but never in Dorne. Have a lover, even two if you like, but it could never be a sibling. That was the one taboo everyone agreed upon. It was viewed as unnatural, even damnable. And perhaps another reason why Doran was willing to give (y/n) her own ship to travel for months at a time. He saw what Ellaria did: a brother who loved his sister too much for comfort.

Not saying anything, Oberyn gingerly grabs one of Ellaria’s hands and pulls it down so that he could kiss her smooth knuckles. “I just want to see her.”

Off in the distance they could hear the low blow of a horn. Oberyn was on his feet in seconds, a big grin plastered on his face making him look ten years younger.

“She’s here!” **

Your heart rattled the cage of your chest once you caught sight of land and the shining top of Sunspear’s palace, even the looming vegetation of the Water Gardens could vaguely be seen.

The warm Dornish breeze kissed your face, welcoming you back home. Although you had fun during your solo journey, you sorely missed Sunspear and all the people that lived there. You wondered how much your nieces had changed, if they even did at all. Arianne and Tyene had been close companions to you growing up. The three of you spent your early adolescence playing in the Water Garden and flirting with whatever poor boy got stuck in your alluring trap. You loved Oberyn dearly, but you could never have fun with the opposite sex when he was around. Entangle yourself with another woman? Sure, go for it. But if Oberyn caught a whiff of a male scent, he was right there to scare them off. Being with your nieces did a lot of good for you as you were allowed to escape Oberyn at least for a few hours.

You smile to yourself when you think of your possessive brother.

Retrieving a piece of cloth that was normally tied to your wrist, you press it under your nose. After so long it still smelled like Oberyn. Before leaving for your first stop, Lys, you had snuck into Oberynb’s room and cut a strip of fabric from one of his shirts. A token to take with you, for even though he chased all the boys away, Oberyn was your favorite person. More than Arianne and Tyene. More than your older brother Doran. He was your light. When Elia was murdered, Oberyn slept in your room every night because of your haunting nightmares. He pressed you close to his bare chest and you drowned yourself in his calming scent. Cloves, spices, and a bit of natural musk was your security blanket.

The sway of the ship brought you back.

You’d be seeing him shortly. You let go of the scrap of cloth, ignoring it as it fell to the ground. There was no need for it anymore. You were home.

“(Y/N)!!”

Even through the shout, you knew who it was. The closer you got, the more you could make out Oberyn at the dock; hands cupped around his mouth as he called out to you. Two armed guards stood sentry behind Oberyn and Ellaria. Of course they would be the first ones to greet you.

Leaning over the side, you call out “OBERYN!!”

Then, to the deckhands utter shock, you did the unthinkable. Getting up on the ledge of the ship, you dove into the sparkling water below. Their screams were drowned out once the water enveloped you. Breaching the surface, you swim over to the dock’s shore where Oberyn was running to.

“You crazy girl!” Oberyn was laughing as he helped you up and out of the water. His own trousers getting wet in the process but neither of you cared. He grabbed onto you for dear life and nearly suffocated you in his embrace. That’s when you heard the delighted screams of your nieces running into the water as well. Arianne excitedly skipped in, her dress skirts immediately getting wet. Tyene was a little more hesitant than her cousin but lifted up the hem of her dress and waded in. While Nymeria was close behind Tyene, Obara and Ellaria chose to stay on shore.

Even though saltwater stung your eyes and soaked into your clothes, you had never been happier. In the arms of your family you felt secure and loved.

Being drenched from head to toe made the way back to Sunspear’s palace a little uncomfortable, but at least you weren’t the only one. Nymeria had charged in, knocking all four of you into the water. Oberyn’s long hair was dripping as was Arianne’s. The way back, Tyene sulked over her wet attire; silently shooting daggers over at her half-sister.

Before facing your brother Doran, the reigning Prince of Dorne, you desperately needed a bath and a change of clothes. Being in that state was okay when it was in front of Oberyn, not the eldest child of Prince Egemen and Bahar Martell. Even if he was your brother, you still had to appear proper in front of the ruler of Dorne.

Departing from your welcome wagon, you were taken for your required bath. It felt like heaven to slip out of your soiled garments and into the steaming hot water that the maids had quickly supplied for you.

Sprinkling small jasmine flowers into the water made the floral scent begin to rise and fill your nostrils. As fun as your travels had been, this was your home that you had missed.

Hadiye, a hand maid who had been with you for years, goes to answer a knock at your washroom door. You could hear her quiet protest. “Prince Oberyn, your sister is almost done with her bath.”

Quite easily, Oberyn pushed past her. “That’s alright. You forget that (y/n) and I used to bathe together as children. Nothing I haven’t seen before. Besides, I want to hear of her adventures in the vast land of Essos!”

Gawking at the prince that was now striding over to your massive tiled tub, Hadiye looks to you and Melisa who had been lathering your hair with essential oils at the time of Oberyn’s disruption. Melisa, who was lower in rank than Hadiye, takes a step away from you and bows in your brother’s presence.

He waves them off. “You two may leave. My sister and I have much to catch up on.”

From her nervous glances at you, you assure the women that it would be alright. Before you left, this had been normal. Oberyn barging in on you as you bathed so he could keep you company and talk. Still, you knew how much this fact made others uncomfortable. “Go on. Let Prince Doran know that I will be ready in a little bit.”

Obedient Hadiye bows and ushers Melisa out.

“Such fretting hens.” Oberyn clicks.

“They surely haven’t changed one bit.”

Finally the two of you were alone. Releasing a sigh as he gets down on his knees, Oberyn sits on the floor; back leisurely pressed against your tub. Of course he never looked directly at you while you bathed. That would be inappropriate.

“So tell me of the year I have missed out on.” **

He had hoped things would be different once (y/n) came home. That her and Oberyn would stop tip-toeing the line of being inappropriate with each other. Yet his retainer had just told him what Hadiye had relayed.

Prince Doran purses his lips and runs a hand over his brow. They had always been too close, even before Elia’s murder. Elia had fretted over the relationship her younger siblings had. She wanted (y/n) to be married as soon as possible, preferably to a Dornish lord so that (y/n) would not have to suffer in a foreign land. Doran knew better. If he were to marry off (y/n), Oberyn would bring upon the apocalypse. Many times he had stated that no man could take (y/n) unless they defeated him in combat. Which more than likely meant Oberyn would kill any potential suitors.

What to do about them was becoming quite a problem for Doran. No young lord wanted to risk their life in order to claim (y/n). His father had taught all he may need to know for ruling Dorne, except for this. Times like this made him miss Elia. Under her care, Oberyn and (y/n) were more docile. Oberyn kept his possessiveness at bay while (y/n) kept her encouragement to a minimum. They clung to one another furiously after Elia’s premature demise.

Even with his paramour, Ellaria, Oberyn kept a tight grip on (y/n) and vice versa. Like snakes entwined in their mating dance.

He feared for his younger siblings. Their attraction to each other would ruin them.

[milayawr]

An Old Memory

Nikolai Lantsov x F!Reader

Summary: Nikolai returns with the sun summoner and he has someone special who has waited for him for years.

Warnings: longing

Word count: 1,088

Notes: Thanks for reading this!🩵 This is my first fic, and i'm so nervous. Please let me know what you think about it. Also, English is not my first language, so i apologize if there are any mistakes.

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

Nothing hurt more than waiting.

She knew the pain that came with it, maybe more than anyone else. It was crushing her heart out, consuming her from the inside, and leaving her broken in pieces. But the worst part was not those stupid feelings, it was hiding it. Over the years, she became very good at hiding her broken heart but she could never hide her sadness. Everyone asked her about her feelings. Why was she sad all the time? She couldn't say she was waiting for a prince since she was already married to a prince, so every time she was asked that kind of question she came up with a stupid lie.

Vasily Lanstov was quite handsome. His wealth was every girl's dream. He was going to be the king of Ravka. She should've been happy. She had accepted the marriage with the hopes of being happy. Her happiness was becoming a queen but she didn't know love could change everything.

Vasily was kind enough but never truly cared for her. He was interested in far different things. He even cared more for his horse than his new wife. They were married for nearly three months but he didn't even come to their bed.

She wasn't complaining about it though. She never thought of having a man in her bed while her mind belonged to another.

She loved him for years. Even when she was engaged, she had feelings for that particular prince.

She came to Os Alta when she was sixteen. She was a duke's daughter and her family and Vasily's family had planned a marriage for years and when the right time knocked on the door her family sent her to the capital. She lived with the royal family since then. The queen had always been on her side. She was also kind but she was not giving a mother's love to her.

She was craving love ever since she could remember.

Maybe that was the reason why she fell in love with that bastard.

He was a year younger than her but his charming face made him look a bit older. He was way more mature than her in some topics but still not mature at all at the same time. He was damnably handsome. Brave in battle, he got into the army when he was sixteen. An excellent dancer, they danced at so many parties when he was still in the capital. His charm would affect someone from miles away.

She never understood how she fell in love with such a person.

She should've loved Vasily. She had to love Vasily. Well, she would have if Vasily had taken care of her, look at her face even once, smile and help her out with the loneliness, and shown her love. Being a little kind didn't help the situation. Even though she was newly wedded she was waiting for a man she hadn't seen for years because she was longing for his affection.

She knew her love did have a mutual feeling. She knew that he liked her, that he had a feeling for her. Even if it was not love, he still liked her. But now, even though he liked her, it was impossible for him to be in love with her because she was the wife of his fucking brother.

But that didn't stop him from kissing her before he was gone.

It was the last thing she remembered from him. She was engaged to Vasily at that time. They were saying goodbye to each other. She was grateful for his friendship, far more than grateful, actually. She was thanking him and then suddenly he was kissing her.

She hasn't forgotten the look of regret in his eyes after that.

Embarrassment filled her as she closed her eyes. He regretted the best thing that ever happened to her. Maybe when he arrives he's going to be distant. "Fuck him," she muttered under her breath.

"Did you say something, your highness?" Asked the maid who was walking behind her.

"No." She answered. Everyone was used to her cold tone over the years. She was never the same after him. She slept with the memory of him kissing her and woke up to the reality of being engaged to his brother. And now she was even married to his brother.

She missed him and she wondered if he missed her as well.

The butterflies in her stomach worsened her day. They were flying around since the moment she heard he was gonna be back. The queen was excited as her, but their excitement was for different things. The queen was waiting for her sweet son, and she was waiting for her first love.

And Vasily was probably not showing up. Again.

Fuck him too, she thought. They were brothers after all. Far different personalities but still, the same shit. Saints, she should hate them both but she can't. She can't hate Vasily because she is his wife and she can't hate Nikolai because he is just… him.

How could she hate Nikolai?

She wanted to forget everything about him as she walked down the hall. She wasn't with the queen, the king, and probably, hopefully, Vasily. She hoped Vasily was there because when she'll see Sobachka again she wanted to hold onto his arm and smile at her husband as if she was in love with him. She needed Vasily for once.

When the door ahead of her opened she held her breath. All the things in her mind flew away. The blond hair was the first thing that got her interest. He was wearing his fancy clothes. He was more handsome than she imagined over the years. The second she realized it was him, everything disappeared. It was just him and her as she always wanted. Why was she wanting that feeling to be gone? After all those longings that broke her apart she was seeing him again, so why?

She didn't have the time to think when he had arrived. The idea of him was rushing around her mind. Nikolai Lantsov was standing right there and all she could do was stare at his handsome bastard face.

He smiled as he wasn't the source of her sadness, broken heart and longings. "Hello, Y/N." He said with a steady voice.

His face, voice, charm... Everything about him was just a memory that had gotten old.

An old memory was standing in front of her and she was speechless.

[goodqueenaly]

Do you think there was any truth to the daemon blackfyre and Daenerys were in love story? I honestly would think not except for the so spake Martin where grrm said they were in love

Do I think it's possible that Daemon and/or Daenerys may have been interested, and indeed perhaps mutually interested, in one another? Sure. We know virtually nothing about Daenerys with respect to either her personality or her appearance, but it certainly might have been the case that Daemon found her attractive - by her own merits, because he saw himself as having the right to a Targaryen royal bride (as perhaps Prince Aerion may have a generation later), a combination of these or some other reason, who knows. Likewise, just as I think Daenerys' nephews (who were of an age with Daenerys herself, of course) may have gotten along reasonably well with Daemon in the years prior to the First Blackfyre Rebellion, so I think it is at least possible Daenerys found herself romantically inclined toward Daemon, a handsome, charming, very martially talented knight of her own age and a familiar presence at the Targaryen court (especially, perhaps, compared to her brother's faraway, "foreign" brother-in-law, who may or may not have been close to her in age). So I would say it's certainly in the realm of possibility that either or both these two young people felt some level of romance for one another. (That obviously doesn't mean that their feelings never changed either: it's always worth keeping in mind that Daemon was a husband and the father of at least nine children when he died, while Daenerys was herself a wife and the mother of an unknown number of children by Prince Maron.)

Do I think it is just as possible, and not mutually exclusive with the above, that pro-Blackfyre propagandists as well as future storytellers and singers seized upon and made much of the Daemon-Daenerys relationship, including some degree of exaggeration and romanticization? Absolutely. Yandel himself notes when discussing the lack of evidentiary support for the proposed love affair, stating that "[i]n the years afterward [i.e. after the First Blackfyre Rebellion], Daenerys was never aught but a loyal wife to Prince Maron, and if she mourned Daemon Blackfyre, she left no record of it". We as readers are in turn are reliant on (as yet unknown) contemporary accounts and later interpretations of events to understand Daemon's and Daenerys' personal feelings, without the benefit of being able to separate the story from the (fictional) reality.

So for pro-Blackfyre propagandists, the idea of a doomed love affair between Daenerys and Daemon may have aided in their characterization of both Daeron II and Daemon: "Daeron Falseborn" was so wicked, the story might have gone, that he would personally deny the happiness of both his half-brother and his sister and so damnably xenophilic that he would prefer to sell his only sister to the Dornish; Daemon, for his part, might then have had no choice (again, according to this propaganda) but to stop the pro-Martell terror of King Daeron, for his own sake and that of the kingdom. (Yandel indeed even hints at the political advantage of such stories, noting that "some of Blackfyre's partisans later claimed" that Aegon IV had promised Daemon that he, Daemon, could take two wives.) Singers and storytellers, for their part, may have seen such a relationship, to whatever extent it actually existed, as too fertile ground to ignore for creative inspiration. How perfectly tragic it might have seemed for these creators, the daughter of a queen who was herself supposedly the subject of a doomed love affair (even though I doubt that was really the case), pining for the dashing royal rebel who longer for her in turn, the anguish of the hearts turning into a massive national civil war where they would be forced to opposite sides.

Do I think that, as Barristan Selmy remembers the story, "Daemon Blackfyre loved the first Daenerys, and rose in rebellion when denied her"? Probably not, at least to that level of simplicity. Whatever personal feelings Daemon may have had toward Daenerys, and/or she toward him, the First Blackfyre Rebellion was a conflict whose origins had been simmering for years prior to its official start in 196 AC. From the moment of the aggressively pro-war Daeron I's assassination and the accession of the aggressively pro-peace Baelor, the parameters of political divide among Westerosi power players had been set. Aegon IV and Daeron II had only hardened that factionalization of the kingdom: father and son had come to embody the division of attitudes toward Dorne, with Aegon IV extending his personal hatred and pettiness toward Daeron to politico-military actions against both Daeron and his Dornish allies, while Daeron's personal familial relationship with the ruling family of Dorne extended to greater political patronage toward the Martells and Dornish more generally, culminating in the nuptial peace with Prince Maron. These divides had existed and been developing before Daemon Blackfyre was born, and while I am certainly not absolving Daemon of any agency when it comes to the First Blackfyre Rebellion, I don't think the war can simply be boiled down to an unfulfilled romantic affair.

Do I think GRRM will simply leave the matter at that SSM from back in 2012, where he noted that "[d]espite Daemon and Daenerys being in love, her brother the king, Daeron the Good, was more concerned with matters of state than matters of love"? Probably not. GRRM is a storyteller himself, after all, and I would be very surprised if he didn't take the opportunity to explore the potential romance between Daenerys and Daemon. Fire and Blood Volume 2 will undoubtedly provide more details regarding this period, and while that story is obviously not a traditional novel/novella-style narrative that allows for a lot of character interiority, it's very possible we'll get more third-party observer accounts about the relationship between Daenerys and Daemon from this period.

[darcydarlingdabbles]

Jazz and Jen

Human Hotel Trip ~ Part 5~ 3k

Hazbin Hotel ₊⁺⋆ Charlastor ₊⁺⋆ Eventually Explicit

Part 1 ⚜️Part 2 ⚜️ Part 3 ⚜️ Part 4 ⚜️ Part 5 ⚜️ Part 6 ⚜️ Finale

// Charlie comes to Alastor's rescue when he's captured by a Cougar, and then drags him onto the floor for a dance neither of them will ever forget.//

✧✦✧✦⚜️✧✦✧✦

Alastor sat at the hotel bar, nursing a whiskey neat as he reveled in the discordant tones assaulting his ears. 

A bastardized jazz cover of a current pop song mocked him from the hotel’s ballroom, where the ‘Roaring Twenties Bash’ was in full swing. The disguised demon grimaced. He swirled the amber liquid in his glass before taking another sip, letting the whiskey burn pleasantly. 

Outside of the bar and across the short hall, a change in tempo meandered through the double doors—and another abomination came to Alastor’s ears, pulling at the edges of his smile. 

Damnable human body made everything just that much more difficult to control. 

His fingers tapped his irritation against the polished wood of the bar. Even so, Alastor refused to return to their hotel room, though he knew Charlie was not there. 

She’d gone to the dance, he was sure of it. Which was probably why he hovered in the empty bar across the hall. Alastor had seen a makeup bag open on the bathroom counter and found a shopping bag that must have contained a dress, and he couldn’t help but wonder. 

Picturing Charlie dolled up like a woman in his time was, more than intriguing—though reality quickly shattered the fantasy. His mind turned to the unshed tears in her golden eyes under the relentless afternoon sun and in the humid Louisiana air the last time he’d seen her. 

Alastor was not familiar with the pang echoing in his chest. 

“Perhaps this auditory torture is a fitting punishment, after all.” He murmured to the rim of his glass. 

When he named the feeling, Alastor chastised himself for even a modicum of guilt. 

He’d only told Charlie the truth. The damn girl just wore her bleeding heart on her sleeve—every joy, every sorrow, every fleeting feeling showed on her face. It put her weaknesses on a marquee for anyone to see. 

It was as endearing as it was naïve, and he had crushed her, with a carefully crafted smile on his face. 

Alastor’s fingers cinched around his glass, wondering if he could shatter it in this human form, and if he would bleed. What it would be like to see scarlet seeping between his tawny fingers again?

The Radio Demon did not apologize. He did not regret. And he was heartless. 

So why did hurting Charlie make him feel so hollow?

Alastor swallowed the rest of his whiskey in one gulp, his mind made up. He had to find the Princess and smooth things over—for purely strategic purposes; he had to remain in her good graces. 

Just as he was about to straighten his vest and leave, someone slid onto the bar stool beside him. The spark of hope at the flash of blonde hair drowned instantly, when her cloying perfume violated his senses. Alastor turned to see a human woman, gracelessly aging into her fifties, leaning towards him. 

“Well, hello there, handsome,” she purred, bluntly sizing him up. “I’m Jennifer. Can I buy you a drink?”

Alastor’s smile narrowed on instinct, wondering what this foolish mortal was playing at. “I beg your pardon, Ma’am. But I was just leaving—” 

Jennifer laughed, her manicured hand coming like a claw to grip his arm. Alastor had to resist the urge to recoil as his skin crawled. “ The night’s still young, and you and I should get to know each other better.” 

Radio silence blanket the demon’s thoughts. 

Was this woman, flirting with him? And why? Some sort of artless joke? He might suspect Angel Dust or even Vox of putting her up to it, if they weren’t realms away. 

Jennifer used his stunned silence to pull Alastor back onto his bar stool, not noticing the way his fists clenched at the audacity of her still touching him. 

“I’m…flattered.” Alastor said, his tone undercutting his words, “but I’m afraid I have a prior engagement with—” 

“Oh, don’t be shy,” Jennifer interrupted him, leaning closer to him. “You don’t come to a bar in that shade of red without looking for attention. It’s so…devilish.” 

“Madam,” Alastor’s teeth grit behind his smile, his eyes flashing an infernal red behind his spectacles. “You have no idea what you’re playing with.” 

Though, to the demon’s surprise and unmitigated horror, his threat only made the stranger lean in closer—and touch his arm again. “I like the sound of that.” 

Alastor’s irritation crackled off of him. Static sizzled from hidden speakers around the bar. He had to extricate himself without causing a scene. He’d promised Charlie no harm would come to humans on this trip, but his patience was wearing thin. 

He couldn’t threaten if his target wasn’t afraid of him. 

“Surely, a woman of your…” Alastor plucked her hand from his forearm and dropped it on to the bar top. “ Experience…could find more suitable company.”

“Oh, I think you’ll do just fine, sugar.” 

Alastor suppressed a groan, suddenly realizing how much intelligence it required to realize you were being insulted. He had no option but to escape. 

“Well, terribly sorry, but I really must be off.” He stood abruptly, his stool scraping against the floor in his haste to leave. 

Jennifer’s eyes lit up. “Why don’t I join you?”

Over his dead body. 

“That won’t be necessary.” The Radio Demon’s perpetual smile tightened. 

“Your room or mine?” Jennifer purred as she too got to her feet. 

Alastor’s eyes widened, interference squealing from him as he stepped back. This was not what he intended in the slightest. And now it wasn’t annoyance but dismay straining his hold on human form.

If she touched him again, he would snap and break another promise to—

“There you are Al!”

“Charlie,” Alastor sighed her name like an answer to his prayers. 

Alastor turned towards her voice, already reaching to pull her towards him—and a lesser man might have let his jaw drop to the floor. Because Charlie was dressed to the nines. Her blonde hair was styled in perfect finger waves and layered pearls dripped from her throat. 

“And who is this chick?” Jennifer asked from behind him. 

Alastor's instant fury sounded like a needle scratching across a record. He knew an an affront when he heard it, but the Princess stepped past him and offered her hand to the human woman. 

“Hi, I’m Charlie.” She offered politely, as Jennifer gave the other blonde a far harsher glance over. “I’m Alastor’s fri—” 

“Girlfriend.” The demon seized the opportunity and Charlie by the shoulders, pulling her back against him and out of Jennifer’s clutches. “And date, to the dance tonight.” 

He could feel Charlie’s surprise as he ignored the intensity of her warm skin under his fingers. 

“Oh?” She turned, catching his eye. And he felt his own throat tighten, pleading that she would have mercy on him and play along. “Honey, I thought you didn’t want to go to the dance?”

Alastor felt his eye twitch at Charlie’s sly smile as he leaned down to emphasize his point. “Since when have I turned down the opportunity to dance with you, my darling?”

Jennifer might just be turning green right in front of them. 

“I thought you wouldn’t be caught dead at. What was you said? A feeble mockery of the glamor of a bygone era?”

Alastor had to hand it to her. That did sound like him. He had no idea she’d been listening to his rants. 

“Well, I’ve had a change of heart. Shall we?” He pulled Charlie’s arm into his to steer her away from the bar. 

“Fine.” Jennifer’s face fell in an ugly way, though she still shot Alastor a smile. “I’ll be around, if you change your mind.” 

Alastor clenched his teeth. “I assure you, I won’t.” 

“Come on sweetie, let’s go cut a rug!” Charlie beamed, dragging him towards the ballroom. 

✧✦✧✦⚜️✧✦✧✦

It was crowded, loud, and flashy. Attention had been put into the atmosphere, with candlelight and warm yellow string lights to make it look like the shell of a jazz club he used to haunt. And that was nothing compared to how the music was already making Alastor cringe.

Charlie caught him and pulled him right onto the dance floor with her. 

“Oh, no you don’t. You owe your fake girlfriend a real dance.” She propped her arm up on his shoulder, her tiny hand never releasing his fingers. “I didn’t get all dressed up not to dance.”

“Is that so?” Alastor pushed Charlie back, lifting their linked hands, so the blonde gave a little spin. 

In a sea of swaying fringe and feather boas, Charlie’s dress was elegant and understated. It was a black crepe romaine gown with a touch of dark sequins that glittered as she moved.

When Alastor’s gaze fell to her sheer stockings, he pulled her back to him, so he couldn’t stare. 

“I’ve seen worse.” Alastor said simply, glancing sideways as a dancer waved her feathered fan dramatically around the dance floor. 

“I’ll take that.” Charlie beamed. “Besides, you can’t avoid me if we’re dancing, can you?”

“And why, pray tell, would I be avoiding you?” Alastor’s eyes narrowed as they turned in loose circles to a song he didn’t recognize. But he wasn’t paying attention to anything other than the petite body in his arms. 

He already knew. That unfamiliar twinge of guilt, twisting in his chest. And he wondered, if she knew. 

Charlie turned a mischievous smile up at Alastor. “You know, Al,” her golden eyes glinted. “You still owe me an apology.” 

A harsh squeal of feedback pierced the air, causing a few human dancers to wince, but the demon didn’t let his steps falter. Alastor’s lips pulled back over his teeth, flickering between amusement and annoyance. 

“I do hate to disappoint, Princess.” He purred, his voice smooth as could be despite the static. 

He spun Charlie gracefully—but this time pulled her back against his chest—trying to distract her, and get his lips to her ear.

“I do not apologize. It’s simply not in my nature.” 

To his eternal surprise, he heard Charlie laugh. 

“Oh, really?” the blonde stepped forward, creating a space between them that the demon instantly despised. He righted his face as she turned. “If that’s the case, I’m sure Jennifer would be more than happy to take my place.” 

Alastor’s lanky frame gave a violent shudder. Without hesitation, he pulled Charlie back flush against his chest, his grip tightening around her waist possessively. 

“I am rather, particular, about who I dance with, Charlie.” He kept his voice low, fighting to keep the smile on his face. “And I’ve no desire to find another partner.” 

She stilled in his hold, almost falling out of step—and Alastor realized what he’d said. How Charlie, who read too much into absolutely everything, just might interpret that. 

Worse, she might just be right. 

“My, my, Charlie,” In an instant, Alastor pulled the smiling mask back over his face, and tugged Charlie back to him. “I do believe you’ve forgotten something rather important.” He crooned to her, watching her guard drop. 

Just so he could spin her out across the floor, then pull her back with a flourish. 

Charlie’s delighted giggle was the best music to meet Alastor’s ears that night. “Oh yeah, and what’s that?”

“That I am, quite simply,” Alastor’s grin widened as his hand slipped down to the small of her back—before he dipped her low. “The best dancer in all of Hell.” 

“Is that so?” Charlie laughed breathlessly and flushed a pretty pink, as her hand came to rest on his vest. 

“It is.” Alastor pulled her up, swiftly, twirling her again before drawing her back into step with the up tempo beat. “And I’d be happy to show you.”

✧✦✧✦⚜️✧✦✧✦

Dancing with Charlie was easy as breathing. And, with Alastor’s skill, it was easy to keep her from talking. 

But, the slow song always had to come.

And Charlie’s arms found their way around Alastor’s neck, just as his hands rested on her waist, naturally as could be. Being in tight proximity to anyone else would make his skin crawl—but he’d never minded being this close to her.

“You know, Al.” Charlie said, so soft only Alastor could hear. “This doesn’t mean that I forgot about that apology you owe me.” 

Alastor sucked air through his teeth like a sour lemon, but there wasn’t anywhere else to look with her arms around him. 

The demon took a breath before deciding on a new…and entirely unfamiliar tactic. To get back into the Princess’s good graces, he needed to be just a little softer. He could even be sweet—or pretend to be.

“My dear,” he chose his words as deliberately as he could. 

“I admit I could have been more... tactful in our earlier conversation. However,” his voice took on a firmer tone, “I didn’t say anything that wasn’t true.”

“You called me thick-headed and a fool, Alastor.” Charlie scowled. 

Alastor winced visibly this time, his perpetual grin faltering for a moment. He cleared his throat, radio static crackling faintly in the background.

He hadn’t meant to hurt her, had he? The thought was…disconcerting. 

“When I spoke of your stubbornness,” he began, His words slipped out in a whisper, gentler than his norm, “I meant it as an admirable trait. Your determination, your unwavering belief—it’s quite remarkable, really.”

Alastor ducked his head until their eyes met. 

“And…well, only a fool would think that they could challenge Heaven or Hell.” He lifted his hand from the small of her back, cupping her chin with a fondness even he could not deny. “Yet, here I stand with the incredible young lady who has bested them both.” 

“Oh, Alastor…” Charlie’s eyes were brimming with those tears again, though these were happy—he assumed. Though the demon had just as little idea what to do with—but soon she was wrapping her arms around him, squeezing his waist and pressing face into his chest. 

Their dance had turned into an intimate embrace, but the Radio Demon didn’t pull away. His chin came to rest on top of her blonde waves. Wondering when he had stopped trying to sway her, and just kept holding her close.

After an eternity that was not near long enough, Charlie turned her cheek to press to the buttons of his blood red shirt. 

“Al,” Charlie murmured, her words barely audible over the music. “Can I ask you something?”

“Of course, my dear.”

Charlie hesitated, and Alastor had a heartbeat to regret his instant agreement. “Do you really not want to be redeemed?” She lifted her head to look at him with those big glossy eyes, and Alastor felt his smile slip. “Or…do you just think you can’t be?”

And he felt himself torn down the middle. Between the instinct to deflect and protect himself—and the horrific urge to tell her the truth. 

✧✦✧✦⚜️✧✦✧✦

Alastor’s foot caught, nearly missing a step in their slow dance. The slip was imperceptible from the outside—but he knew Charlie felt it, because her hold around him tightened. Like she could keep him from falling. 

“I…my dear.” He hesitated, actually, hesitated. “Charlie…I know what I am, and what I am not.” 

The words fell heavier than he intended, hanging in the air between them.

 Charlie’s amber eyes blazed with an intensity that caught Alastor off guard. Her fingers curled into the fabric of his black vest, pulling him down until their faces were mere inches apart.

“Yeah? Well, maybe—just maybe you don’t know everything, huh?” The Princess challenged, her whisper fierce.

Alastor’s eyebrows shot up, genuinely surprised by her boldness. By her…closeness. It was distracting, to say the least. 

The scent of her blonde hair pulled him back to this morning, the way it and Charlie splayed across his chest. And everything else disappeared. 

Charlie didn’t relent. “I know who you are too, Al. And I know there’s good in you. I’ve seen it, even if you refuse to.”

“Dear little Princess Charlotte.” Alastor retreated into the perfect performance radio host. “Ever the optimist. But I am afraid this dog is too old for new tricks.” A hitched laugh escaped his lips, slipping from humor into something much darker. 

Part of Alastor knew he was baiting her—Charlie was incapable of resisting a lost cause. It was safer territory than bearing his throat to be bled dry. 

Charlie, predictably, had to do the right thing. She gripped on to him tighter. “You won’t scare me off, Alastor.” Her eyes never left his—and he could feel the determination burning. 

Alastor leaned closer, a breath away, his brown eyes turning a deep, menacing red as his pupils became radio slits—radio dials. A reminder that this dapper exterior was just a thin veil over the predator beneath. 

“Are you quite sure about that?” he let his voice into a dangerous whisper.

Charlie didn’t flinch. “Yeah, I am.” Her gaze locked with his.

The challenge hung between them, charged with electricity. Alastor felt a familiar thrill. 

The push and the pull. Her belief verses his doubt. 

But something else was stirring with in Alastor. A desire to prove to Charlie, once and for all, that her faith in him was misplaced. Before he could second-guess himself, Alastor closed what little distance was left between them.

The kiss was hard with defiance, and burning with longing. 

He felt her gasp against his lips, louder in his ears than the appalling music. 

Charlie tasted sweet like cinnamon, her mouth soft with surprise as she stayed frozen in place.

For a fleeting, heart-wrenching moment, Alastor was sure that he had finally found the line and crossed it. 

Until arms wound around his neck to pull him in closer. 

Charlie was kissing him back.

Deepening the kiss until he was the one to gasp—before remembering that he didn’t have teeth sharp enough to cut her tongue.

Alastor was supposed to be proving a point, not enjoying kissing Charlie.

And wishing it never had to end. 

⚜️ Part 6 ~ Speak Easy to Me ⚜️

Part 1 ⚜️Part 2 ⚜️ Part 3 ⚜️ Part 4 ⚜️ Part 5 ⚜️ Part 6 ⚜️ Finale

[savethegrishaverse]

"Not bad looking?... She's damnably handsome... Brave in battle, smart as a whip... An excellent dancer... Oh, and an even better shot."

Presenting Nikolai Lantsov. Privateer. Queen. And a damned beast when she's in a bad mood.

Aka I had way too much fun with this. I made three whole looks and I can totally do more because I keep seeing ways to make the looks better.

Also yes I did splurge on VIP mind your business.

And yes the camera quality will get better. I'm just testing things out 🙈