#i'm sorry i find it really distracting

[fairlycaught]

no gain no love biggest plothole is no one commenting on Hae-Young's terrible outfits

[lloydfrontera]

One of the most annoying missed opportunitis in TGED in my opinion is the complete lack of a relationship between Javier and Marbella. Like yes Arcos was the one who saved him, but he has way more in common with Marbella. They were both commoners, they were both saved at a young age from absolutely abhorrent fates by Arcos, and most importantly, neither of them have no connection with their parents or any outside support system. (Javier's parents are dead, but we don't know what happened to Marbella's family/friends after the mercenaries sacked their village).

I just think it's really out of character for Marbella to see this kid her beloved husband brings home one day, whom she can see has witnessed the same horrors and born the same heartache as she at a far younger age, and not do everything in her power to help him? To track down recipes from his home region, to soothe him when he had nightmares, encourage him to make friends with Julian, and just overall hold his hand through everything as he adjusts to a world that is so alien compared to everything he's ever known.

And just imagine the angst. For the first time since her marriage, if not her rescue, Marbella has someone in her life that shares so much of her childhood experiences and background. (At least who isn't being paid to hang out with/serve her). But she never feels like she can keep him. At first they were merely waiting for next of kin to come claim him. But by the time they realized no one was coming, it was clear to them that Javier was going to be the greatest swordsman the world had ever known. He would have to leave one day, if not for his own glory then for the sake of the helpless across the continent. He was never meant to be her child. (Or so she thought).

Plus Javier's entire character arc revolves around him slowly realizing that love and duty are not mutually exclusive. This could have been reenforced by his relationships with Arcos and Marbella. He's devoted to Arcos because he admires and respects him as his savior and lord, but also as a genuinely good person who helped him grow into the man he became. But he loves and respects Marbella because she was the one who made him feel safe and not alone when he was at his most vulnerable. (Not to say that Arcos didn't try, he just never lived through what they did so it was harder for him to connect to him.)

Maybe the reason he has a seemingly closer relationship with Arcos is because he thinks it's a simpler relationship. Just a lord and knight, nothing else. (I think it would be really funny if Javier was only aware of his filial pining towards only half of the Frontera couple.)

I think I lost my train of thought halfway through this post but tldr; Javier should have been a secret mommas boy.

personally i think javier is just lacking in relationships in general. like. this man barely talks to anyone who isn't lloyd. the only two other people i think he's close to is arcos and julian which does make his lack of relationship with marbella more conspicuos!

i've talked before about just how out of character it feels for the fronteras to not really have a more personal relationship with javier considering the literally everything about them, but you make a great point that javier is pretty close to arcos while he barely has any interaction to marbella. which personally i think it's because bk moon is allergic to writing women sometimes and arcos is just more integral to the plot than marbella unfortunately :/

but if we're talking in-universe explanations it could totally be what you said! javier probably just found it easier to connect with arcos, because he already had that lord&knight connection with him.

he was in a very tenuous situation when it came to his place with the fronteras, because there was really nothing tying them together when he was a child beyond their goodwill. becoming a knight to the frontera family is cementing his place with them in a way no one could really deny. it made it real even if it's not really what he (or them) wanted it to be.

(i've also talked about this before. i've talked a lot about tged OTL)

but this also comes with the drawback that now they're stuck in their roles in a way they weren't when javier was just the child they'd raised. now he is a knight, they are his masters and there's a degree of separation between them that wasn't there before.

and with arcos javier at least has the excuse of being his knight to justify his closeness. but with marbella?? he doesn't have a 'reason' to be close to her. so he isn't.

but i really do adore the idea of them having their own relationship with each other <333. i'm holding your entire ask close to my heart and never letting go <3333

[somegrumpynerd]

I read your post about if nightmare gives up his boys & my heart was aching so badly ;w;

Dadmare want what's best for his boys 😭

He does!! As much as he hates to admit it, they mean the world to him and he wants them all to be happy. Not only because of what they've done for him in helping him not hate the world anymore, but after all they've been through themselves.

Even if it meant he wouldn't see them anymore, he couldn't stand the idea that he was hurting them by keeping them trapped with him y'know? If you love somebody you have to let them go and be free. But also, maybe he could come and visit sometimes if they moved out? Or they could visit him? Please 🥺

Thankfully it doesn't come to that though, they like staying outside the castle sometimes for a little break but none of them plan on leaving, it's what they all consider home <3

Or, as Dust would put it if Nightmare asked, "we haven't paid rent in like 6 years, what kind of idiot would move out??"

[byler-alarmist]

What scares me most about Byler endgame is the reality of it likely coming out long after the US presidential election 2024.

[lambentplume]

sorry this just turned into complaining in tags. you don't have to expand all that i prommy.

[lesbiansanemi]

I'm so tired

[spamtoon]

(Out of nowhere, you are approached by a familiar lightbulb-headed Cog.)

Ah, it's you, cat. Thinking you're oh-so-slick. Muttering and whispering under those raggedy whiskers of yours... Thinking I am unable to hear it all...

Well, you've simply underestimated my fantastic hearing. You probably want to know the reason why I'm here, taking a 'break' from my incredibly important scientific breakthroughs? It's quite simple, really!

(She gets close, and squints her eyes.)

I know what you are.

Farewell, now!

(She then leaves the way she came from.)

(Spam giggles immensely, covering her face... it always seems like she's giggling, isn't she? This lasts... at least thirty seconds. Longer than usual.)

And I know what I am too, Sparky! You broke through something, that's for sure. Really, broke through...

(She looks down, continuing to laugh nervously.)

You know, I find it odd you Havent tried to bulb blast me into the stratosphere by now. I mean knowing how you acted with Frostbite. Is there something peculiar about me that you perhaps can't quite track? Something about me that you... don't know what I am?

I know, I know, I'm talking to nobody again. But you were there when I had a moment today with the one the only Frostbite The Bravecog. You may be remaining. Lurking in the shadows. Knowing about these thoughts that I'm thinking.

(The giggling resumes, lasting far shorter this time.)

Your brother's a piece of fucking barp, by the way

(She braces for impact for a few seconds, wincing while smiling, before comically looking around to realize nobody's there. She sighs.)

Wow, okay maybe toony superhero show logic doesn't apply in this situation. Cool.

WAIT I JUST FUCKING REALIZED WHAT SHE MEANT but like. Dude if she meant that then what's the point I mean the whole ahh sellbot department barping knows unless you're Really low on the ladder. Heheh... maybe she did mean what I thought she meant.

Oh i'm so fucking screwed. What kind of bitch gets filament fever

[stargazinglesbian]

my biggest claim to fame is that one time strange aeons read out my clown husbandry tumblr post in a video in 2023

[hedgehog-moss]

I need to confess something—my last post presented a deceptively idyllic vision of my hike in the snow. I only posted photos from the tranquil walk home at dusk and neglected to mention that I (once again) got lost in a featureless expanse of snow and briefly became convinced I would never find the road again and would have to dig a little den like an Arctic fox to spend the night.

You see, there's this place where Pandolf really loves to go for a walk on snowy days—it's on top of this plateau here:

^ see the fence in the middle, that curves to the left? Nothing bad can happen as long as you follow it. There are lots of landmarks in this direction, like trees, more fences, and a couple of houses.

In the other direction, however, lies The Nothing.

Here's a photo of Pandolf (eagerly) standing near the edge of The Nothing:

Characteristics of The Nothing: it is vast, and white, and becomes more and more featureless the farther you go into it—

—and Pandolf really, really loves it.

Even when he falls into a surprise hole where the snow is suddenly three times as deep (another characteristic of The Nothing), he'll just push himself out in one great powerful jump and keep frolicking.

Or he'll remain in the spot where the snow is deeper and try his best to bury his entire self into it.

He sometimes gets crazy eyes in The Nothing.

We always start this walk with such good resolutions.

We're definitely staying close to the fence this time! With all the lovely landmarks on the left!

And then, inevitably,

Further notes from my studies: • The Nothing has some small plants and rocks, but using them as landmarks is foolish, as they will eventually disappear. • No matter how many foot-, paw-, and dog-headprints you leave and how deep they are, they will disappear before you are able to retrace your steps, probably because The Nothing is always so windy.

Pandolf thinks this is a great characteristic of The Nothing, as it means he never runs out of immaculate snow to dive into.

The wind and the resulting snow mist are the really treacherous things about this place. These photos were taken in roughly the same spot, a couple of hours apart. In the first one, the fence on the left is clearly visible; in the second one, it has started to melt into The Nothing.

There's always a moment when I end up standing in the middle of, well, nothing, with indistinguishable whiteness in every direction, under my feet, above my head, left, right, and I start thinking about writing poignant farewell messages in my Notes app for my family to find at some point in the future.

One last interesting thing about The Nothing is the way Pandolf reacts when I finally find my bearings again and start walking faster, determined to get back to the safety of the road before it gets dark.

Pandolf then just

It's very different than the playful, energetic way in which he normally buries his head in the snow. This second type of burying is clearly a form of protest—if I continue walking away Pan will reluctantly follow me for 20 or so metres, then flatten himself to the ground again, in the same despondent way.

Hypothesis #1: He is trying to play dead like a possum, hoping I will go "well, I can't lug a dead dog all the way home, I'd better leave him here." And then he'll stay with The Nothing forever.

Hypothesis #2: He is trying to lay as flat as possible so as to become all but invisible against the snow. It's unclear if he knows he is the wrong colour for this.

Hypothesis #3: He is trying to commune with The Nothing, burying words of devotion and friendship deep into the snow and promising to return soon.

Conclusion: I'm sorry, I know that's a very long post, but seeing as each of these photos depicts perfect felicity on Earth, I find it hard to delete any. I also like how I intended this post to be about my long disoriented trek through the snow, wondering if I was going to find the fence or the road again before dark—and then I got distracted by how happy Pandolf was. Which is exactly how I end up getting lost in The Nothing every single time!!

[himbosandhardwear]

Steve is rifling through Eddie's collection of magazines, while he's waiting on Eddie and Wayne to get done fixing the dryer(Wayne's fixing, Eddie's getting in the way it sounds like), when he realizes how insane the assortment is; Heavy Metal, Car and Driver, Rolling Stone, National Geographic, OMNI, MAD, even a copy of Good Housekeeping. It's all so Eddie though, to have so many varying interests. He's a little jealous, if he's being honest with himself.

"You have a lot of stuff," he comments when Eddie comes back, closing the copy of Rolling Stone.

"Oh, yeah, sorry, let me just..." He starts kicking a pile of clothes under the bed.

Steve huffs a laugh. "No, I meant you have a lot of interests." He waves the magazine. "Hobbies and stuff."

Eddie nods, continues to shove piles of stuff under the bed anyway. "I guess, yeah. I tend to jump from thing to thing though. Last night it was painting miniatures, tonight it could be writing a song. I don't really get a say in which one. Oh, nice, I've been looking for this," he says, holding up a random T-shirt.

He watches Eddie get distracted by the new discovery and leave the rest of the pile where it's at, smiling to himself as Eddie goes on a tangent about merch vendors at concerts being the real enemy of the people.

"How do you know what you like?" Steve inadvertently blurts out during a gap in Eddie's tale.

He turns toward Steve. "What do you mean?"

What does he mean? "I guess... It's just, I like cars and sports and girls. That's, like, kind of it. And since I started being friends with Henderson and Robin and you I've figured out that's, like, the most basic shit a guy could be into. Level One Dude Interests. So, I guess I just want to know how you find other things? And how will I know if I'm interested?"

"Hmm." He frowns softly. "I've never had to think about it before. I kinda just...fall into things. I like it or I don't."

"Okay, but what's it feel like?"

Eddie puts the shirt down, forgotten again in a moment, and sits. "What does it feel like when you think about cars and sports and girls?"

Steve really thinks about it. Nothing is as consuming as when he was younger, but he does remember a vague sense of excitement, a feeling of connection with the people he surrounded himself with, who shared his interests. But he hasn't felt that in a while. Maybe he wasn't as into those things as he thought, was only into the connection.

"You're having very deep thoughts over there," Eddie points out with a grin.

"Shut up." He grins back. "I think maybe I don't actually know what it feels like to like something because I like it, not just because everyone else likes it. You know what I mean?"

"Well, yes but no." He waves both hands to indicate his person and also the chaos of the room around them.

"See? This is why I'm asking you. If anyone can help me figure out what I like it's you."

Eddie slaps both hands together and rubs. "A project! Excellent idea!"

Wasn't his idea but sure.

"First we have to get you exposure to new things. Movies, TV, music, culture. Then we'll rate how you feel about each demographic. Your music taste is already improving so that's good. Movies, I'm thinking 12 Angry Men to start. Food? Authentic Mexican. We're gonna get you excited about shit!" He seems excited enough for the both of them, which is great. "Excitement is key! You want enthusiasm, yearning even. Your interests should consume your every waking thought. When I'm consuming a new hobby, I'm focused like a shark, I'm obsessed. I go to bed thinking about it and wake up thinking about it. Excited to get back to whatever it is. I wanna talk about it, share it with other people. Complete and total immersion. You wanna marry that interest. You know what I mean?"

Steve blinks at him, stunned into silence. Eddie's just described how Steve feels about him...

Oh.

Oh.

[tbaluver]

hiii! could you do hcs of lads men reacting to mc posting or sending them this but like with theur pictures?? hihiihi 🤭💕

https://x.com/mahaegals/status/1888472565120733590?s=46

Sending Him A Cleavage Photocard Pic- The Love And DeepSpace Men

featuring ( in order ): xavier, zayne, rafayel, sylus, caleb summary/context: if my title didn't make sense and you don't want to check the link ( im sorry im bad at titling .·°՞(¯□¯)՞°·.) scroll all the way down for a reference! tags: suggestive a/n: hihi anonnie ! ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡ hehe i remember seeing this trend all over twitter and i was def thinking abt this bc of my lads brainrot i hope i did it justice ! enjoy reading ! (∩˃o˂∩)♡ any likes and reblogs are always appreciated! enjoy!

⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆

Xavier:

He didn’t even realize that there were pictures of him peeking through your cleavage. His eyes instantly went to your tits and admired how they sat so pretty and how it would look so good with him in between them

He won’t reply for a few minutes because he’s busy staring until he finally realized that you had his pictures in your cleavage

He can feel heat traveling to his body, and yes, it was down in his trousers, but he can’t help and feel a little jealousy boil in him because why are those pictures of him on you and not him.

₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎: there’s no need to put my pictures there

₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎: On my way!

He’s using that speed of light to USE. The moment you look at his messages, you’d already hear your front door opening

Zayne:

He definitely should’ve seen it coming. With a sigh, he rubs his temples and eyes, shaking his head. A small smile tugs at his lips as his ears flush a deep red.

His cock twitches in his slacks when he stares longer at your breasts displayed so perfectly while his photos peek out of your clothes. He doesn’t even realize how many minutes pass by, completely hypnotized by the mounds of flesh.

☃︎: apologies.

☃︎:..i’m a little distracted.

You knew it was one of his weaknesses. You most likely sent that picture without context to tease him and it's definitely working.

☃︎: is this another way of you telling me you want another private check up?

☃︎: i’ll be home in an hour

☃︎: i believe you won't be needing those photos once i'm there.

Rafayel:

SWEET MOTHER OF PEARL

He would gasp SO loudly once he saw it. His mouth is wide open once he opens the messages to see your beautiful boobs cupped so nicely and so perfectly on his screen with his pictures popping out of your clothes.

It didn’t take that long for dirty images consuming his brain along with his dick rising in his pants

Responses from him include various compliments and keyboard smashes or both combined. He would get really impatient if you didn’t respond immediately because he needs to see and hear you right now

𓆟: oh my glubsddhkahf

𓆟: my girlfriend is so pretty (っ˘ڡ˘ς)

𓆟: so gorgousddsfjo

𓆟: cutiecutie

𓆟: answer the call pretty plss

Sylus:

A low chuckle escapes him as his lips curl into a smirk, savoring the image on his phone. Your pretty breasts are sitting nicely while pictures of him peek out of your bra, the one that he bought you. Tease.

Sylus will never get used to seeing your breathtaking figure on his screen. You always try to surprise him, and he can’t help but be amused but also find it adorable that you try too.  two can play at that game.

But obviously he’s going to shower you with compliments first

𓅂: my my my

𓅂: to what do i owe this pleasure to sweetie?

You can expect him to send you a couple more pictures. One of him is in the shower, where water drips down his body, giving you a clear view of his upper body but not enough to provide you with everything you want. Another of him is in his tank top, where he works on his motorcycle.

𓅂: to add to your photo collection.

And another one where he copies you. He'll send a close up shot of his towel wrapped around his waist, a picture of you peeking out of it, giving you just enough for you to have a full view of his v-line and his abs

𓅂: such a shame only a picture of you can be here

Caleb:

COLONEL DOWN COLONEL DOWN

See this is why he opens your messages after he finishes flying. Mainly because he knows that any picture of you might have him distracted when he's up in the sky. Literally head in the clouds.

Do not ask him the colors of your shirt/ bra or anything else in that picture, NOTHING

He’s also the type to realize late that there were pictures of him on your cleavage. It would just be a blur to him and he just thought your shirt/ bra was shaped silly.

✈︎: only i get to see this rightt :o

A low groan slip out of his lips as he held his phone tightly, his eyes tracing the shape. His brain fumbles on what to do or say but his dick is already racing him to it

✈︎: so picture caleb gets lucky but what about me :(

✈︎: you're killing me pipsqueak >:(

His hands would be shaky the entire time he’s sending you messages. His dick was too hard to even think properly

✈︎: looks like im gonna take a quick detour :D

✈︎: gonna show picture caleb that's not where he belongs

Like a puppy going after a treat

context: sending him a picture like this but only his pictures

ʚɞ cr. for the divider @/ cafekitsune

ʚɞ thank yew to @divinedevotions for helping me sketch the reference pic so i can edit their photos on it .·°՞(¯□¯)՞°·.

ʚɞ thank you to my beta reader @ilovemitsuya (˵˘ ³˘˵) ᯓᡣ𐭩

ʚɞ my other works if you want to check it out! Love And DeepSpace Masterlist, Pg. 2

[borderlinereminders]

If you’re someone who needs reassurance from loved ones that they love you, that’s really valid. But the way you ask for it matters. Hinting at it with comments like “nobody loves me” can actually be hurtful to your loved ones. It’s also a good idea to try and reassure yourself first!

The truth is that for a lot of people, giving reassurance constantly is exhausting. It can lead to issues in a relationship over time, and negative feelings on both sides because they may end up avoiding the other person. This is especially true if someone doesn't ask for reassurance directly but hints at it with things like "No one cares about me."

My advice is if you are finding yourself struggling is to first try and self soothe either with skills or things that have helped in the past. Here is my post on self-soothing ideas! And if that doesn’t work, then ask for it in a healthy way.

Some other examples.

Keep screenshots, letters, cards etc that affirm you are cared about by your loved ones. You can even ask someone to give you a recording of them saying it that you can listen to. Bonus: Keep these things in a self-care box that you can use in times of crisis and pull out that has other things in like affirmation cards, favourite treats, self care items, etc.

Examine the evidence. By this I mean try and keep a list of things they've done to show they care about you. For example, I have a list of things my partner has done for me besides saying "I love you" of both big things and little things that I can read when my brain decides to be rude to me and make me doubt he cares.

If the other person has done something specifically to make you feel they don't care, it's important to step back and look at the situation and check the facts. There's a difference between someone lying to you or doing something intentional and someone not replying to you because they got busy. Here’s my post on checking the facts!

Here’s a post on Challenging Irrational Thoughts!

ACCEPTS is a really good skill for distractions! Here's a post on it.

TIPP is a good skill if you are needing to calm down in immediate crisis. Here's a post on it.

If you're having urges to accuse your loved one of not caring, consider Urge Surfing (here's a post on it) and then using a skill or plan that helps you.

If you aren't able to self-soothe that's so valid! It really is. I recommend trying it because sometimes you will be able to. But then sometimes you won't be able to and that's okay. In this case, if you need to get it from someone, ask directly for it instead of doing it in a guilting/passive aggressive/hinting way. You might say "Hey. I know you care about me, but my brain is being rude. Can you please give me some reassurance?" instead of "Sorry I'm such a bad friend/person/burden/etc".

It might also be worth having a conversation when calm with the other person to establish some boundaries and ideas for communication.

For example, if your friend regularly feels drained by you asking for reassurance, they could set boundaries on how often they're okay for you to ask for it.

You both might decide that they will try and message you randomly to offer reassurance because it can mean a lot when that happens.

This might be where they send you messages/recordings/etc that you can read in times of need.

If the friend is doing something specifically, even unintentionally, that makes you question things then it's really valid to have a discussion about it! I recommend using some I-Statements or other communicative skills to talk about it. Even if they aren't doing something wrong, it's still valid to talk about your feelings and see if you can come up with a solution. For example, maybe it's really hard on you that they disappear randomly for a couple days when their energy levels plummet. And this causes you to spiral and think they're ghosting you or etc. In this situation, maybe you and your friend come up with a solution where you establish a single emoji (specific for this purpose) that the friend can send with low energy that says "Hey. It's not you but I'm feeling drained and need to not reply for a bit."

[vanteguccir]

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤGRAMMYS 2025 * CHRIS STURNIOLO

SUMMARY　::　where Y/N, worldwide famous singer, goes to the Grammys 2025 and brings Chris as her pair for the first time.

FEATURING　Chris Sturniolo x singer!reader　REQUESTED?　yes.

WARNINGS　::　none.

AUTHOR'S NOTE　::　that is my work, I DON'T authorize any form of plagiarism; copy, "inspiration" or translation! | english isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

Y/N had been nominated for five Grammy Awards this year. Five. And yet, for some reason, the thought of stepping onto that carpet, under the flashing lights and watchful eyes of the entire world, made her more nervous than she’d ever been.

It wasn’t her first time - this was her fifth Grammy appearance - but the nerves never seemed to dull, no matter how many times she did this.

Her team had tried everything: chamomile tea, soothing massages, deep breathing exercises, playing her favorite calming playlist at a low volume in the background, even giving her a dozen of those custom-made chocolates with her face printed on them. But nothing helped. Not really.

Not even Chris’s kisses; though she had to admit, they were a very welcome distraction.

They were in a penthouse suite of a luxurious hotel in downtown Los Angeles, even though their house was barely a twenty-minute drive away. It was protocol, her team insisted. Every artist did it - getting ready in a hotel, away from distractions, with stylists, makeup artists, and PR people swarming around. It was meant to be a controlled environment, a perfectly curated lead-up to the biggest night in music. But it only added to the pressure.

Y/N stood in front of a massive floor-to-ceiling mirror, wrapped in a silk robe, her bare feet sinking into the plush carpet as a makeup artist blended soft eyeshadow onto her lids. Her hairstylist was behind her, curling strands of her hair into loose waves. She looked poised on the outside, but internally, her nerves were tying knots in her stomach.

Chris sat on the couch a few feet away, watching her intently. He was already dressed - black tux, crisp white shirt, and a bow tie he had spent fifteen minutes fighting with before her makeup artist took pity on him and fixed it for him.

He looked good.

Really good.

The kind of good that made her momentarily forget about the nerves. But she wasn’t the only one nervous tonight.

Chris had been jittery since this morning, though he tried not to show it. This was his first time attending something this big, this formal, and while he was used to attention, this was a whole new level. He was going to be surrounded by the most famous people in the world, and for the first time, he wasn’t just Chris Sturniolo, the YouTuber; he was Chris Sturniolo, Y/N’s date to the Grammys.

But instead of letting his own anxiety get to him, he focused on her, observing how her fingers twitched, manicured nails shining below the lights with every tremble.

"Baby." He cooed, standing and walking toward her as soon as the makeup artist stepped aside. He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to her exposed shoulder, his big hands finding home around her hips, squeezing the covered skin. "What are you feeling, huh? 'Can feel you stressing from across the room, doll."

Y/N sighed, her hands gripping the edges of the vanity table, being careful not to knock her knuckles against the three massive bouquets - Nick had arranged for all of them to be delivered straight to her room in that morning.

"I just... I don’t know, Chris." She murmured, voice barely above a whisper. "I know I’ve done this before, but what if I don’t win anything? What if I disappoint everyone?"

Before she could spiral any further, Chris was already moving. His hands slid from her hips to her stomach, wrapping around her in a slow embrace. He pulled her against him, his chest firm against her back, the heat of his body seeping through the thin fabric of her robe.

"Hey." He whispered, lips brushing against the shell of her ear. "Don’t do that."

His voice was gentle but firm, a quiet command that sent a shiver down her spine. She felt his breath against her neck, warm and familiar, grounding her.

"First of all." He continued, his arms tightening around her middle. "You’re the best singer out of everyone in that room tonight. You know that, right?"

Her eyes rolled.

"Baby, you can't say that when Billie Eilish, Taylor Swift-" She started, turning her head slightly, but he was already shaking his head.

"Nope." He cut in, resting his chin in the curve of her neck, his gaze locking onto hers through the mirror. "I said what I said. And for the record." He added, voice lower now, dripping with conviction. "You’re already the winner of everything in my book. Even the categories you’re not nominated in."

She sighed, heart pounding as his hands splayed across her stomach, his thumbs brushing slow, absentminded circles.

"Best Album? Yours." He murmured, letting his lips ghost over her jaw. "Best Song? Yours." His mouth traveled down to her shoulder, barely pressing against her skin, yet setting every nerve ending alight. "Best Human Being to Ever Exist?" He turned his head just enough to meet her eyes in the mirror again, his smirk soft but teasing. "You, obviously."

She let out a small, shaky laugh.

"Chris-"

"I’m serious." He interrupted, turning his head and nuzzling the soft skin of her temple, inhaling the rich scent of her Givenchy perfume. "Your fans love you. I love you. And, babe, let’s be honest, you could drop a single of you just breathing into a mic, and it would still go platinum."

That made her laugh, her eyes rolling with amusement.

"You’re gonna do your best tonight, like you always do. And no matter what happens, I’ll be right there with you."

She finally turned in his hold, her arms looping around his neck and her red tinted lips forming a small pout.

"Even if I trip on the carpet?"

"I’ll trip with you. We’ll make it a trend." Chris grinned, pressing a lingering kiss to the tip of her nose, being excessively careful not to smudge her perfect makeup. "Now, I think there's a worldwide famous singer who should be getting dressed, huh?"

Y/N's eyes stared into blue ones for a moment, smiling with the softness she found in them.

"Yeah... Yeah, you're right."

A sharp knock at the door broke their haze, followed by a loud voice.

"Y/N!"

The voice was unmistakable, high-pitched and full of dramatic flair, and before Y/N could even turn, Harry Lambert had burst into the room, arms spread wide, eyes scanning her from head to toe with theatrical disbelief.

"Oh. My. GOD." He practically floated toward her, his hands fluttering in the air like he was physically trying to grasp the vision before him. "Darling, how dare you stand there looking this stunning before even getting into your dress?"

Y/N barely had time to react before he pulled her into a tight hug, arms wrapped around her like he hadn’t seen her in years - even though they had spoken just yesterday. He pressed a kiss to the top of her head, holding her there for a beat longer than necessary, his touch radiating warmth and love.

"My baby girl." He cooed, pulling back slightly to cup her face. "How are we feeling? Nervous? Excited? On the verge of a breakdown?"

"All of the above." Y/N admitted, letting out a breathy laugh as he studied her with fondness.

Harry clicked his tongue.

"Well, you shouldn’t be, because you’re about to own this night. And if anyone so much as dares to breathe in your direction the wrong way, I will be throwing hands."

Chris chuckled from behind them.

"Good to see you, Harry."

"Christopher!" Harry turned to him with a dazzling smile, patting his chest in greeting before narrowing his eyes playfully. "The suit I chose for you was a very good choice, huh? Gucci looks good on you. Now, let’s be clear, your only job tonight is to stand there, look pretty, and worship Y/N like the goddess she is. Do you understand me?"

Chris raised his hands in surrender.

"Oh, trust me, I’ve been doing that since the second I met her."

Y/N felt her cheeks warm as Harry clapped his hands together.

"That’s my boy. Now, enough chit-chat! It is officially time to get my queen into the dress."

The entire room seemed to shift as the energy buzzed with anticipation. Y/N was ushered toward the dressing area, where the Gucci gown had been carefully laid out, glowing under the soft lights. Even without being worn, it commanded attention - the gold fabric shimmering as if infused with actual stardust, the dramatic ruffles sculpted to perfection.

As they helped her into it, every detail came to life. The strapless silhouette hugged her body in all the right places, the embedded crystals catching every flicker of light. The metallic sleeves, voluminous and artful, cascaded around her arms, while the matching ruffles at the bottom framed her steps with effortless grace.

When the final adjustments were made, Harry stepped back, his hands pressed to his chest as if he might faint.

"Oh, sweet heavens above." He whispered, looking genuinely overwhelmed. "I’ve outdone myself. We’ve outdone ourselves."

Chris, who had been sitting on the bed answering his brothers texts, looked up with Harry's voice, suddenly straightening up. His hands dropped to his lap, and his mouth hung open slightly, completely speechless.

"Wow." His voice came out strangled, like he had just been personally attacked.

Y/N turned toward him fully, the movement making the crystals on her dress shimmer, the light practically bending to her will. Chris visibly short-circuited.

"Are you- what- how-" He inhaled sharply, shaking his head as if trying to reboot his brain. "Nah. Nah. This isn’t fair. This should be illegal."

Y/N bit her lip, fighting a smile, but his reaction only got worse. His fingers threaded into his hair, his eyes raking over her from head to toe with pure, unfiltered obsession.

"Jesus fuck." He breathed out, voice a little rough. "You’re gonna kill me tonight, doll."

Harry smirked, tilting his head as he admired her.

"Oh, she’s not just going to kill you, Christopher. She’s going to kill everyone at the Grammys tonight. And I, for one, cannot wait to watch it happen."

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

The energy outside the venue was electric. Even from inside the tinted Range Rover, the deafening sound of flashing cameras and screaming paparazzi was unavoidable. Y/N shifted in her seat, inhaling slowly, feeling the vibration of the excitement just beyond the doors.

A hand suddenly slid over her thighs, warm and grounding, caressing the fabric of her dress.

"Ready?" Chris asked, his voice softer than the chaos outside.

Y/N turned to him, wetting her matte lipstick lips.

"Yeah." She breathed, even though her heart was hammering.

Chris smirked knowingly.

"Liar."

Before she could argue, the car door swung open, and an immediate wave of screams hit them like a storm.

Chris stepped out first, adjusting his suit as flashes exploded around him, the sound of his name already being yelled from every direction. He quickly moved around to face the inside of the car, offering his hand.

The second Y/N emerged, the chaos tripled.

"Y/N! Y/N! Over here!"

"Y/N! Christopher! Are you two official?"

"Y/N, do you think you’ll win tonight?"

Y/N barely flinched at the shouting - it was part of the job. Instead, she kept her chin high, gripping Chris’s hand as they made their way down the carpet. The venue was bathed in red and gold hues, a massive step-and-repeat wall covered in Grammy logos standing proudly ahead. The air buzzed with anticipation, celebrities lining the edges of the carpet, all waiting for their moment in front of the cameras.

A staff member approached, guiding them toward a designated spot.

"You first, Ms. Y/N." The woman instructed.

Chris gave Y/N a gentle squeeze before stepping aside, allowing her to take center stage.

And damn, did she own it.

The second she posed, the already flashing cameras seemed to explode.

The fitted, gold gown clung to her frame like liquid metal, sparkling under the lights. The voluminous, ruffled sleeves caught the air as she shifted her stance, making her look like some sort of celestial being - untouchable, ethereal. She turned her head smoothly, flashing a radiant smile as the photographers shouted for her attention.

Chris, standing just a few feet away, was not handling it well. His eyes never left her, completely entranced, like he was seeing her for the first time again, not even noticing the flashs directed to his figure.

Y/N, catching his expression, couldn’t help but smile shyly. She subtly tilted her head toward him between poses, raising a teasing brow.

Chris just shook his head, still gawking, before muttering under his breath.

"Jesus Christ."

The staff member signaled for Chris to approach Y/N for their couple photos. Y/N turned toward him, making a playful shooing motion with her hands as if to snap him out of his trance.

"Earth to Chris." She teased.

Chris didn’t respond - not verbally, at least. Instead, he stepped closer with large steps and grabbed her by the waist, carefully pulling her flush against him, careful with her heels but firm enough to steal a delighted gasp from her. The moment their bodies pressed together, the screams from the crowd outside the barricades and the clicking of cameras reached a new level of hysteria.

The cameras loved them.

Chris leaned in between shots, his lips brushing her ear.

"You think they got food inside?"

Y/N barely bit back a laugh, keeping her expression poised as she continued smiling for the cameras.

"What, you mean like caviar and tiny-ass lobster rolls?"

"I don’t care if it’s a plate of lettuce. I need to eat something before I pass out."

Y/N snorted softly with how dramatic he could be, bumping her hips against his just slightly, careful not to disrupt the pictures.

"You ate almost all of those chocolates back in the hotel. Where does it even go?"

Chris grinned, his fingers squeezing at her waist, effectively freezing her in place.

"Wouldn’t you like to know?"

She rolled her eyes, suppressing a giggle.

"Be serious, Sturniolo."

"I am serious." He looked at her then, really looked at her, and it sent something warm and electric curling down her spine. "You are so fucking beautiful, it’s actually stupid."

Y/N faltered for half a second, her breath catching, not from the flashing lights, not from the cameras, but from him.

Chris chuckled, clearly pleased her reaction.

"Want to give y'a post-celebration present so bad." His voice switched to low and airy, almost lost beneath the noise, but she heard it perfectly.

Y/N swallowed, her mind jumping to conclusions she probably shouldn’t be having on the Grammys red carpet.

"Hm, and what would that be?"

Chris smirked, his fingers flexing at her waist.

"Eat y’out."

Y/N kept her composure like a pro, smiling for the cameras with a practiced grin, but discreetly pressed her thighs together. Two could play this game.

But before she could fire back, a voice interrupted.

"Alright, guys! We need to move to the next area!"

Another event staff member gestured for them to proceed toward the interview section, their tone polite but firm. Y/N exhaled slowly, her heart thudding inside her ears.

Chris sighed dramatically, his grip on her waist tightening for just a second before he let go, traveling up to her hand.

"And here I was, thinking we could just stay here all night."

Y/N squeezed his fingers, tugging him forward.

"Come on, you menace."

As they walked toward the interview zone, the setup became clearer - a sleek, well-lit platform lined with various media outlets, each interviewer eagerly awaiting their next celebrity guest. But before Y/N could even register who was up next, a familiar voice rang out, unmistakably enthusiastic.

"Y/N, oh my God! Get over here!"

Emma Chamberlain.

Y/N's face lit up immediately, and without hesitation, she pulled Chris along, their hands still intertwined as they made a beeline toward Emma. The internet personality-turned-Grammys correspondent was practically bouncing on her heels, her eyes wide with excitement.

As soon as they reached her, Emma lifted her microphone with dramatic flair.

"Ladies and gentlemen, five-time Grammy-nominated Y/N L/N, everyone!"

Y/N laughed, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

"No way you just said that like an awards show host."

Emma grinned.

"I am an awards show host." Then, turning to Chris, she playfully narrowed her eyes. "And, of course, let’s not forget the man of the hour, Chris Sturniolo!"

Chris chuckled, giving a small wave, the silver ring on his index finger glinting against the camera flash.

"That’s me."

Emma wasted no time diving into questions, her energy infectious.

"Okay, first things first, how are you feeling?" She pointed the mic toward Y/N.

Y/N exhaled, a bright smile still gracing her lips.

"Honestly? I’m just... I don’t even know how to put it into words. Happy? Grateful? In shock? All of it at once?" She shook her head in disbelief. "I mean, the Grammys. It’s something you dream about as a kid, you know? And now, five nominations? I feel like I need someone to pinch me."

Chris gently squeezed her hand, leaning in slightly so his mouth was close to the mic, his cheek brushing hers in the process.

"Not gonna lie, I did pinch her earlier to check."

Y/N playfully swatted at him, making Emma laugh.

"Alright, but tell me everything. What were you doing when you found out you were nominated?"

At this, Y/N turned to Chris, already laughing.

"Oh my God, it was chaos."

Chris grinned, nodding while brushing his messy hair back.

"Totally."

Y/N faced Emma again, still giggling.

"Okay, so we were just in the living room, me, Chris, Matt, and Nick. It was so casual, literally just us eating burgers, watching the nominations roll in on TV, not thinking much of it."

Emma’s eyes widened.

"Wait, so you weren’t even refreshing Twitter like a maniac?"

"No!" Y/N shook her head. "I swear, I wasn’t even expecting anything. And then, boom. My name gets called for the first nomination, and I just screamed."

"Nick screamed, too." Chris jumped in, laughing.

Emma gasped.

"Nick would."

Y/N nodded rapidly.

"He did! So then, Chris kisses me, Matt’s literally jumping up and down, and it was just full-on mayhem. But then, like, a minute later, my name gets called again for another nomination."

Chris smirked, nodding his head.

"And again. And again."

Emma covered her mouth, delighted.

"So by the fifth time-"

"I was crying." Y/N admitted, grinning. "Like, full-on sobbing in Chris’s arms."

Emma dramatically put her free hand against her heart.

"This is what I live for." Then, turning to Chris, she grinned mischievously. "Alright, your turn, Sturniolo."

Chris blinked, looking at Y/N before going back to Emma.

"Me?"

Emma nodded, dead serious.

"Yes, you. Because I know you, you act all cool and chill, but I know you were losing your mind when she got nominated."

Chris laughed, shaking his head.

"I mean, yeah, obviously. I was going crazy. But I think it really hit me when I looked at her during the last nomination and realized, this is actually happening. Like, she’s that talented. The world is seeing what I already knew."

Y/N felt her face heat up, a mix of emotions swirling in her chest.

Emma pouted.

"Chris, that's so wholesome. You’re really that boyfriend, huh?"

Chris shrugged, squeezing Y/N’s hand.

"I mean, yeah. Have you met her?"

Y/N rolled her eyes playfully, but her smile didn’t fade.

"I know, right?" Emma nodded at Chris's direction, laughing with Y/N's reaction. "Now, tell me, which nomination are you most excited about?"

Y/N didn’t even hesitate.

"Song of the Year."

Emma’s brows lifted.

"Because...?"

Y/N took a breath, her fingers unconsciously tightening around Chris’s hand.

"Because the song nominated for that category is Lavender Haze, and that song... it just means so much to me." She glanced at Chris, her expression softer now.

Emma’s eyes darted between the two of them, her curiosity sparking instantly. She glanced at Y/N, then at Chris, before turning toward the camera with exaggerated wide eyes.

"Ohhh, I know that look." She teased, pointing between them with a knowing grin. "Okay, spill, tell me about the song."

Y/N let out a breathy laugh with how eager she sounded, meeting Emma’s gaze again.

"You'll know all about it if I win." She winked, her tone warm.

Chris was quick to approach the microphone again.

"Not if, when."

Emma tilted her head, frowning as a pout grew on her lips.

"No way you're going to leave me with this curiosity." She sighed dramatically. "I guess I'll need to watch the awards with double attention." Emma winked to the camera. "Okay, I’m obsessed with you guys. This is too cute. But I won’t keep you any longer, go enjoy your night! And, Y/N, fingers crossed for all five wins!"

Y/N beamed, giving Emma one last hug before she and Chris were guided to the next section of the event. As they walked, the lights of the Grammys venue shining ahead, Chris leaned in close, his lips brushing her ear.

"You’re killing it, doll."

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

The moment Y/N and Chris stepped into the grand main salon, the shift in the atmosphere was almost physical. The flashing lights of the red carpet were behind them, replaced by the elegant glow of chandeliers and the soft hum of conversation. Celebrities, industry giants, and music legends filled the expansive room, dressed in their finest, the air buzzing with anticipation.

A staff member immediately approached them with a warm smile, gesturing toward their assigned table.

"Good evening, Ms. L/N, Mr. Sturniolo. Right this way, please."

As they walked through the lavishly decorated space, Y/N’s fingers instinctively tightened around Chris’s hand, her nerves still tingling with the knowledge that the biggest names were around her.

Halfway to their table, a familiar voice called out from the side.

"Chris! No way- dude!"

Chris turned toward the sound, a grin instantly spreading across his face when he saw Troye Sivan standing up from his table, waving him over.

Troye had met Chris and his brothers just two weeks ago at a Prada fashion show, and the energy between them had been instantly chill and friendly.

"Troye, hey, what’s up, man?" Chris greeted as he pulled him in for a quick hug.

Meanwhile, Y/N turned toward Sabrina Carpenter, who was seated beside Troye in the most ethereal baby blue dress, its delicate fabric flowing like water over her frame.

"Sabrina, hi!" Y/N greeted, her voice lighting up as she fully took in the details of her look. "Wow, you look absolutely stunning. Like, actually unreal."

Sabrina’s eyes widened for a split second, surprise flashing across her face before it melted into the sweetest, most genuine smile. Without a second thought, she pushed herself up from her seat, reaching for Y/N as if they were lifelong friends and pulling her into a warm, affectionate hug. She squeezed tightly, her energy radiating pure kindness.

"Oh my god, stop." Sabrina gushed, pulling back just enough to look at Y/N, her hands still resting gently on her arms. "That means the world coming from you. And please, look at you!" She emphasized, eyes scanning Y/N from head to toe with genuine admiration. "You look like an actual goddess."

Y/N laughed softly, shaking her head as she absentmindedly smoothed her hands over the golden fabric of her dress.

"It’s all Lambert’s magic." She admitted with a playful grin, referring to her trusted stylist. Then, with a spark of excitement, she added. "I heard you’re performing tonight, I cannot wait to see it!"

Sabrina practically bounced in place, her excitement just as contagious.

"Oh, that makes me so nervous but also so happy." She admitted with a laugh, her hands clasping together. "I just hope I don’t trip or something."

Y/N shook her head instantly.

"No way, you’re going to kill it. I already know it."

Chris and Troye exchanged a few more words, something about how amazing the Prada show had been and how they should schedule to do something together in the future, before Chris gave him a casual pat on the shoulder.

"We’ll catch up later, yeah? We gotta find our table before they go live."

Troye grinned.

"For sure. Enjoy the night, guys."

After one last big smile at Sabrina, Y/N slipped her hand back into Chris’s as they navigated through the room.

Their table was positioned with a perfect view of the stage, the paper cards on their seats spelling out their names in black ink below a selected picture of their faces.

As they sat down, Y/N exhaled, glancing up at the stage. A quick glance at the massive countdown screen told her they had ten minutes before the live broadcast began.

"Damn." She muttered, leaning toward Chris. "Didn’t even realize how much time passed outside."

Chris chuckled, his voice low.

"That’s ‘cause you were too busy looking hot and stealing everyone’s attention."

She rolled her eyes but couldn’t help the amused smile that tugged at her lips.

"Come'ere, babe." He asked, extending his arm in her direction, asking silently for her to move closer.

Her eyes sparkled with affection, and she shifted her chair slightly, moving closer to Chris until she was practically pressed against his side. Without hesitation, he wrapped his extended arm around her upper body, pulling her in securely. The warmth of his body mixed with the familiarity of his presence was grounding and comforting.

Chris pressed a soft kiss to her temple, his lips lingering for just a second longer than necessary.

Y/N tilted her head up to look at him, her eyes shining under the dimmed chandeliers.

"Thank you." She whispered, her voice barely audible over the hum of the room.

Chris furrowed his brows slightly, looking down at her, their faces so close he could feel her warm breath hitting his chin.

"For what?"

"For being here with me. For always being here for me."

His gaze softened immediately, and the way he looked at her - so full of quiet devotion - made her heart swell.

"Forever, baby." He murmured, squeezing her gently.

Before Y/N could say anything else, a new voice cut into their moment.

"Excuse me, I hope I’m not interrupting anything."

The voice was warm, familiar, and utterly unmistakable.

Both Y/N and Chris turned toward the sound, and in an instant, Y/N felt the entire world freeze. Her breath caught in her throat, her heart stuttered, and for a brief, terrifying moment, she wondered if she had actually left her body.

Because standing there, just a few feet away, in all her effortless, golden-lit, legendary glory, was Taylor Swift.

Taylor Swift.

Y/N swore she could hear the heavens parting and angels singing in the background.

Taylor was an absolute vision in a stunning, strong red mini dress, her signature red lip effortlessly bold, her blonde hair framing her face in soft waves.

And she was smiling - smiling - at her.

"Oh my god." Y/N blurted out, the words tumbling out of her mouth before she could even attempt to reel them back in.

Taylor let out a soft laugh as she shook her head lightly, eyes twinkling.

"I just wanted to say that I’m such a huge fan of your work. Lavender Haze is absolutely everything."

Y/N felt her soul leave her body.

Her brain quite literally short-circuited. Because- because what?

Taylor Swift, the Taylor Swift, her biggest inspiration, her songwriting idol, just complimented her music?

There was a very real possibility that she had just blacked out.

Chris shifted slightly beside her, maintaining his arm above the back of her chair, obviously trying so hard not to burst out laughing at how starstruck she looked.

Somehow, somehow, Y/N managed to keep her expression together, even though her heart was doing full-blown Olympic-level gymnastics in her chest.

"That means everything coming from you." She breathed, every word laced with pure, raw sincerity. "Thank you so, so much."

Taylor’s smile only widened, like she could feel how much those words meant to Y/N.

"Seriously." She said, her voice warm and genuine. "I’ve been listening to it on repeat. You’re insanely talented. The way you crafted that song... you have such a gift."

Y/N felt an actual tear prick at the corner of her eye. She wanted to scream. She wanted to hug her. She wanted to tattoo this moment onto her soul and never forget it.

And then, as if she couldn’t possibly adore her any more, Taylor turned to Chris, offering him the same bright, kind smile.

"And of course, you." She said, her tone playful but just as sincere. "I love what you and your brothers are doing on YouTube. It’s always fun seeing people bring fresh energy to the space."

Chris looked genuinely taken aback for a moment. His eyebrows lifted slightly, and for the first time, Y/N saw a flicker of oh wow, this is real life in his expression.

"That’s- wow, okay, that’s crazy." He said, running a hand through his hair with an incredulous chuckle. "Thank you, that’s- man, that’s insane coming from you."

Taylor grinned, her hand gently squeezing Y/N’s shoulder, grounding her back to reality.

"I won’t keep you guys." She said softly. "I just wanted to say that. Hope you both have the best night."

And just like that, she turned, walking back toward her table.

For a long, stunned second, Y/N just stood there, processing what had just happened. Then, with wide eyes, she turned to Chris, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Did that just happen?"

Chris, still looking way too amused, nodded, his grin stretching across his face.

"Yup." He confirmed. "And you just casually had a conversation with Taylor Swift like it was nothing."

Y/N let out a sharp exhale, pressing her hands over her face.

"I need a second."

Chris laughed, and before she could even register it, he was wrapping both arms around her, pulling her in tightly, his face pressing against her hair.

"Proud of you, popstar." He murmured, his voice laced with nothing but warmth.

Before she could respond, the lights dimmed, and the energy in the room shifted as a voice echoed through the speakers.

"Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome your host for the 67th Annual Grammy Awards, Trevor Noah!"

A roar of cheers erupted as the towering LED screens flanking the stage flickered to life, displaying Trevor Noah’s wide, mischievous grin. He strolled onto the main floor rather than standing on the stage, seamlessly blending into the sea of round tables where the biggest names in the industry were seated.

He adjusted the microphone in his hand, letting the applause die down just enough before flashing a knowing smirk.

"Alright, ladies and gentlemen." He began, his smooth voice carrying through the arena. "This is it, the 67th Grammys! Music’s biggest night! The Super Bowl for people who cried to Folklore, danced to Beyoncé, and worked out to Travis Scott, all in the same day!"

Laughter rippled through the crowd as the camera panned to a few artists nodding dramatically in agreement.

"And listen, let’s be honest. The Grammys are basically just a really fancy dinner party where we all pretend we haven’t been stalking the winners list since yesterday." Another wave of laughter followed. "But tonight... tonight, we are celebrating the best of the best in music. The songs that made us scream in our cars, the albums that made us question our entire existence, and the artists who consistently ruin our Spotify Wrapped every year."

Trevor began walking casually between the round tables, grinning as he looked around at the audience.

"And let’s not forget the real stars of the night, the seating arrangements. Have you seen these tables? It’s like the ultimate Hunger Games. You got legends, you got rookies, and you got the poor artists who are just hoping they don’t get caught in an awkward cutaway during a joke."

The camera zoomed in on a few newer artists laughing nervously, earning a chuckle from the crowd.

Trevor continued weaving his way through the tables, his eyes scanning the sea of music’s biggest names.

"And speaking of icons." He said, stopping by a particular table. "Tonight, we have the one and only Y/N L/N with us!"

The moment her name left his lips, the entire arena erupted into cheers. The camera cut to Y/N’s table, her face instantly lighting up with a radiant smile. Chris grinned smugly as he watched her soak in the moment.

Y/N turned slightly to face the camera that was now focused on her, offering a soft wave. The massive screen above the stage displayed a live feed of her, the applause continuing as Trevor beamed.

"Now, listen, if you somehow missed it, Y/N is up for five nominations tonight!" Trevor announced, pointing at her with mock emphasis. "Five nominations, guys. For songs and the album she announced when she won last year. That’s how much of a legend she is."

Y/N let out a soft laugh, her cheeks warming as she watched herself on the big screen. The camera panned slightly to Chris, who was nodding with a smug expression, as if silently agreeing with every word Trevor was saying.

"Plus." Trevor continued, stepping closer to their table. "If Y/N wins tonight, she could be the first artist ever to win Album of the Year five times."

Gasps and cheers rippled through the audience, while Y/N’s smile grew impossibly wider.

"Which means, she would break the record of four wins set all the way back in 2024 by-" Trevor raised his free hand, making a show of pretending to check an invisible list on his palm. "Y/N L/N!"

The entire room erupted into even louder applause, whistles echoing through the space as Trevor dramatically motioned toward her again.

Y/N's eyebrows flew up, feigning surprise, trying to contain her giddiness while Chris chuckled beside her, mouthing 'that's my girl' to a camera pointing his way.

Trevor placed a hand on his hip, looking toward the camera with mock exasperation.

"So basically, Y/N is out here breaking her own records. Just casually deciding that four wins aren’t enough and going for five. That’s like running a marathon, winning, and then saying, 'You know what? Let’s do it again, backwards'."

More laughter filled the room, Y/N pressing a hand over her mouth to keep from giggling too much. Trevor grinned, looking at her one last time.

"Listen, Y/N, whatever happens tonight, you’re already a legend. But if you win that fifth Grammy, just promise me you won’t announce another album mid-acceptance speech. Give the rest of the industry a fighting chance, okay?"

Y/N laughed, shaking her head, and Chris patted her thigh under the table, looking thoroughly entertained.

Trevor winked before turning back to the audience, raising his mic once again.

"Alright, let’s get this incredible night started! We’ve got performances, surprises, and probably a few moments that’ll break the internet. Let’s do this!"

The crowd roared as the cameras pulled away, cutting to a sleek transition video, signaling the official start of the show. Y/N exhaled, stealing a glance at Chris, who simply grinned and pulled her back to his chest, pressing his lips against her cheek.

"You’re so winning tonight."

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

The moment the last notes of Birds of a Feather echoed through the grand hall, Y/N felt like she was floating. Billie Eilish had just delivered one of the most breathtaking performances she had ever seen, and she could still feel the goosebumps lingering on her arms.

She turned to Chris, her eyes shining with excitement, her heart still beating to the rhythm of the song.

"Billie is unreal." She gushed, shaking her head in disbelief. "Like, every time she performs, it’s like she’s singing straight to my soul."

Chris let out a chuckle, his arm draped lazily around her shoulders, pulling her close.

"Nick would actually kill to be here right now." His lips quirked up in amusement. "I bet he’s texting us like a mad man."

Y/N laughed softly, already imagining Nick’s all-caps messages blowing up their group chat. But before she could even think of checking, the stage lights dimmed slightly, and the screens around the venue shifted. A familiar melody played in the background as a figure gracefully stepped onto the stage. The chatter in the audience softened as people turned their attention to her.

Taylor Swift.

Y/N straightened in her seat, her heart picking up speed.

Chris immediately caught the change in her posture and smirked.

"Oh shit." He teased, giving her shoulder a little squeeze. "Your idol is speaking. Do you need me to hold you so you don’t pass out?"

She rolled her eyes but couldn’t deny the excitement bubbling in her chest.

Taylor approached the microphone with that effortless charm that made the entire room fall silent. She smiled warmly, tucking a strand of golden hair behind her ear before speaking.

"Good evening, everyone." She greeted, her voice carrying easily through the venue. "Tonight has been incredible so far, and I am so honored to be here presenting this next award."

Y/N opened a genuine smile, squeezing Chris's thigh below her fingers.

"Album of the Year is such a special award because it represents not just music, but stories. It’s about the albums that stayed with us, that shaped our emotions, our memories. The ones that became the soundtrack to our lives." Taylor continued, her expression softening as she held up the envelope. "And with that being said, the Grammy goes to..."

She slid her fingers under the flap and carefully pulled out the card, unfolding it with precision.

Y/N could feel Chris’s arms tighten around her. His body heat a cocoon around her own as she clutched onto him, her pulse thundering in her temple.

A second of silence stretched. Then Taylor’s eyes scanned the paper, and the biggest, brightest smile took over her face. Her gaze lifted, seemingly searching the crowd for someone.

Y/N furrowed her brows slightly.

Taylor found her.

And then, with a warmth that sent shivers down Y/N’s spine, Taylor announced.

"Y/N L/N, Midnights."

The world tilted.

For a solid moment, Y/N didn’t move. She couldn’t move. The air in her lungs disappeared, her vision blurred instantly with unshed tears, and her mouth fell open in pure, unfiltered shock, her hands hovering near her mouth, trembling as realization crashed into her like a tidal wave.

Album of the Year.

She won.

She won.

Chris, on the other hand, reacted immediately.

"YES!" He shouted, his voice cutting through the noise as he punched the air, his excitement completely unfiltered. People turned, smiling, laughing, but Chris didn’t care. His hands were already on Y/N, his eyes scanning her face.

She wasn’t breathing.

"Babe." His voice softened instantly as he leaned in, his forehead almost touching hers. "Hey, you did it."

Y/N sucked in a sharp, shaky breath, but it wasn’t enough. Tears welled in her eyes, spilling over before she could stop them, her body shaking with the force of emotions she had no chance of containing.

A broken sob escaped her lips.

Chris pulled her in before she could crumple, wrapping her up in the kind of hug that blocked everything else out. His arms were warm, steady, his lips pressing against her forehead as he whispered, his voice firm this time.

"You did it."

Y/N let out a wet laugh against his shoulder, her fingers clutching onto him for just a second longer before she finally let go.

He gently lowered his head, making sure she looked at him.

And God, the way he was looking at her.

Like she had just built the entire universe with her bare hands.

"Go get your Grammy, winner." He murmured, the words slow and soft and filled with everything.

Y/N let out another broken breath, nodding before finally, finally turning toward the stage.

The journey to the top felt surreal, like she was floating. The cheers, the applause, the faces she recognized - people she had idolized - they all blurred together.

And then suddenly, she was there.

Standing at the top.

Face to face with Taylor Swift.

Who was smiling at her, waiting for her, Grammy in hand.

Y/N’s breath hitched all over again.

Her hands, still unsteady, reached out, fingers closing around the golden gramophone. The weight of it sent a whole new wave of emotions crashing into her.

Before she could even process what was happening, Taylor pulled her into a hug - tight, warm, real.

"Congratulations." Taylor whispered against her ear, and god, if that wasn’t the most surreal moment of Y/N’s entire life. "You deserve this so much."

A choked noise left Y/N’s lips as she nodded weakly, her throat too tight to speak.

She deserved this.

She deserved this.

Her fingers traced over the Grammy, like she needed physical proof that it was real before she finally turned to the microphone.

She inhaled deeply. Opened her mouth.

"I-I don’t even know what to say right now." She admitted, biting her bottom lip. "I’m- god, I’m just so honored."

The crowd cooed, and Y/N let out a breathless laugh of her own, shaking her head as more tears slipped down her cheeks.

"This is insane." She said, shaking her head slightly. "Being nominated in this category, alongside so many incredible artists, artists I’ve admired for years, was already more than I could’ve ever dreamed of. To even stand beside you all tonight, to celebrate music with you? That was already everything."

Her chest rose and fell as she blinked away the heat gathering behind her eyes, sweeping her gaze across the crowd.

"I have to thank my incredible producer, my team, every single person who helped bring this album to life." Her voice wavered, thick with emotion. "You guys took my wild, messy ideas and turned them into something real, something that I never could have done alone. And I will never stop being grateful."

She wet her lips, inhaling deeply before her smile stretched just a little wider.

"My fans..." Her voice caught slightly, her hand pressing over her heart. "You guys have given me everything. You’ve let me tell my stories, and you’ve listened over and over and over again. You’ve made this dream of mine possible, and I love you more than I can ever put into words."

The cheers swelled again, voices from every corner of the room shouting her name. Her grip on the Grammy tightened as she shifted her weight slightly.

"To my family, Matt and Nick, my biggest cheerleaders." She laughed softly, looking at the main camera pointing at her. "I love you guys, you already know that."

And then, as if the moment had been waiting for this, her gaze lifted to him. Her breath hitched, lips curling into a smile that was just for him.

"And lastly." She said, her voice softer now. "To my boyfriend, Chris."

A ripple of excitement spread through the audience, but Y/N didn’t hear it. Not when those impossibly blue eyes were locked onto hers, not when his expression softened with something so tender, so proud, it made her knees weak.

"Thank you for being the creative genius that you are." She said, eyes never leaving his. "For staying up with me in the studio when I couldn’t figure out the right melody, even when I was on hour ten of tweaking the same one."

Laughter rolled through the room, and Chris grinned, shaking his head.

"For never doubting me." She continued, her throat tightening. "Even when I doubted myself. For being my biggest supporter. My muse. Every song, every lyric... You are in all of them.”

Chris exhaled sharply, his jaw tensing, his hand pressing over his heart as if feeling her love for him.

"Thank you." She finished simply, her voice steady, full of everything she couldn’t quite put into words.

The applause was deafening. A roar of cheers, of love, of celebration.

But all Y/N could hear was the thundering of her own heart.

This was real.

She had just won Album of the Year for the fifth time in a row.

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

The massive screens on either side of the stage illuminated with Trevor Noah’s face again as he took the microphone, now standing above all of them, his signature charm radiating through the room.

"Alright, people." He started, a knowing smirk on his lips. "This is it, one of the most expected award of the night. Song of the Year."

The audience erupted into applause, a tangible wave of excitement washing over the room.

Y/N could barely hear it. Her entire body felt like it was wound up in a coil, so tight that she might snap. Her heart pounded mercilessly against her ribcage as she focused on the only thing grounding her - Chris’s hand wrapped tightly around hers.

She could feel the heat of his palm, the way his fingers curled firmly around hers, almost as if he knew she needed the anchor.

Trevor continued, his voice filling the grand space.

"Now, we all know Song of the Year isn’t just about a hit track. It’s about storytelling. It’s about lyrics that mean something that connects with people, that makes you feel something in your soul."

Y/N squeezed her eyes shut for a second. God, she felt like she was going to throw up.

Chris, meanwhile, kept his eyes locked on the stage, his jaw set, body tense. His grip on her hand tightening, his thumb brushing over the back of her hand once - just once - as if silently telling her, I’ve got you.

Trevor continued listing the nominees, their song snippets playing softly over the speakers, but Y/N’s mind was a blur. The only thing she could feel was her heartbeat hammering violently inside her chest.

She could barely hear Trevor’s next words over the rush of blood in her ears.

"And the Grammy goes to..."

A dramatic pause.

It felt endless. It felt cruel.

Y/N finally lifted her head, eyes darting to the stage.

Trevor’s gaze swept across the room before his smile widened.

"Y/N L/N, Lavender Haze!"

The room erupted. Applause, cheers bouncing off the walls, her own voice echoing from the speakers, but Y/N barely registered any of it.

Her breath hitched, her entire body jerking forward as if her heart had physically pulled her out of her seat. Her hands flew to her face, pressing against her eyes, trying to contain the overwhelming rush of emotions slamming into her all at once.

Oh, god. Oh, god.

Chris was already moving before she could even think. His chair scraped back, his arms were on her in an instant, pulling her up, grounding her before she could float away in all of this.

"Oh my god." The words tumbled out of her, barely a whisper against her palms, her chest rising and falling too quickly to keep up.

Chris didn’t hesitate. His arms wrapped around her tightly, anchoring her, holding her so close she could feel his heartbeat against hers.

"I am so fucking proud of you." His voice was right against her ear, steady, sure. "You are everything, baby."

That was it. That was what made the tears slip free.

But Chris didn’t let her hide.

With infinite tenderness, he pulled her hands away from her face, his thumbs sweeping over her damp cheeks. Then, before she could even catch her breath, he cupped her jaw and kissed her, firm, lingering, so full of love that everything else around them faded into nothing.

The crowd reacted instantly - cheers, whistles, camera flashes exploding in rapid succession - but Y/N only felt him.

When he pulled back, his hand found the small of her back, keeping her close, his face glowing with pride.

"Go get your second Grammy, superstar."

She exhaled shakily, nodding as she turned toward the stage for the second time in that night.

With each step, she forced herself to breathe.

In.

Out.

The massive gold-lettered GRAMMY AWARDS logo towered behind Trevor as he extended the award toward her, his smile warm and genuine.

"Y/N, congratulations." He said, offering a short but meaningful handshake.

Y/N took the Grammy statue with slightly trembling hands, whispering.

"Thank you so much." Before stepping toward the microphone.

As she turned, facing the sea of the world’s most influential artists, the weight of the moment finally settled on her. She was with her second award in her hands.

She barely had time to process it before her gaze instinctively found Chris.

He was standing at their table, hands tucked into his pants pockets, eyes locked onto hers. And when she hesitated, nerves bubbling up again, he gave her the smallest nod.

A simple movement.

But one that made her chest ache in the best way.

Y/N exhaled, adjusting her grip on the award.

"I- uh, I think I blacked out for a second there."

The room laughed, the tension easing instantly.

Y/N smiled, shaking her head.

"I genuinely don’t even know where to start. Again. This... this is insane."

She swallowed, her grip tightening on the Grammy as she steadied herself. The applause had started to fade, giving her space to speak, but her mind was still spinning.

"Lavender Haze is about love." She let the words settle, looking down for a brief moment before lifting her gaze straight to him. "The kind of love that blocks out the noise. The kind that just is, no matter what’s said, no matter what’s assumed. The kind that’s real."

Chris’s expression didn’t change, but she saw it, the slight shift in his jaw, the way his fingers curled against his palm, like he was physically stopping himself from reacting too much. From crumbling, maybe.

"This song wouldn’t exist without that love." Y/N wet her lips, heart hammering. "Without him."

A murmur rippled through the audience. People turned toward Chris, whose head finally dropped for half a second, his tongue running over his bottom lip before he glanced back up at her.

Y/N barely heard the movement. Barely noticed the cameras zooming in on them, barely cared about the entire world watching, because this wasn’t for them.

"This music is for you, Chris." Her voice was softer now, but no less sure. "And about you. And because of you."

Chris inhaled sharply, his chest rising with the movement. He was blinking faster now, his lips parting slightly, his entire body still, like if he moved, even a little, he’d break.

"You have been my safe place in ways I never even thought possible." Y/N continued, her voice thick with emotion. "You have shown me love in a way that makes the rest of the world fade out. And I wrote this because I needed people to hear what that feels like."

A pause.

Chris pressed his knuckles against his mouth, his gaze locked onto her like she had gravity itself wrapped around her fingers.

"So, I don’t need to thank anyone else for this." Y/N said simply, shaking her head. "This is you. This was always you."

The room was silent.

The world was silent.

Then, like a tidal wave, the applause crashed back over the moment, a roar of cheers and shouts as the weight of her words settled over the audience.

Chris didn’t move.

Didn’t clap.

Didn’t even breathe for a second.

He just looked at her with the most bright blue eyes.

She nodded, finally stepping back from the mic, Trevor clapping beside her before escorting her off stage.

And the second she made it back to her table, Chris was there.

Before she could even react, he pulled her against him, lips finding hers in a way that had the cameras flashing wildly, had people cooing, but none of it mattered.

Because for Y/N, all that existed was him.

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

Five nominations.

Five won awards.

She did it.

She had won five Grammys tonight.

She still couldn’t fully process it.

The air outside the main salon was crisp with the late-night chill, but Y/N barely felt it. The sheer exhaustion in her limbs, the dull ache in her feet from hours in high heels, and the weight - both literal and emotional - of the five golden Grammys in her hands left her in a haze.

Chris walked beside her, just as tired, but his expression was still warm with lingering pride. His free hand held two of her awards, his fingers occasionally brushing against hers as they made their way toward the grey wall - the makeshift backdrop set up just for the winners to take their photos.

Y/N’s sharp eyes were quick to spot something - or rather, someone - familiar.

Cole Walliser. The photographer behind every iconic Glambot moment and best photographs at major award shows.

The moment Cole noticed her, his face lit up in recognition, and he immediately called out.

"Y/N! Oh my god, look at these babies!" He gestured toward her stack of trophies, shaking his head in disbelief. "Get over here. You already know the drill!"

Y/N laughed, already making her way toward him, Chris trailing behind her with a wide smile.

"Oh, I think I remember it."

Cole smirked, playing along.

"Yeah? You sure about that? Feels like I’ve only filmed you a dozen times or so."

"Something like that." She teased before gesturing toward Chris with her head. "Brought a friend this time."

Chris scoffed, giving her the most offended look.

"Friend my ass."

Y/N burst into laughter, nudging him playfully, while Cole chuckled at their dynamic.

"Alright, what’s the game plan? We need to show these off."

Y/N barely had time to respond before Chris was already moving, helping her adjust the awards so she could hold them all without them toppling over.

"Wait, wait, here, give me that one." His voice was soft, concentrated, as he carefully restacked them, his touch both gentle and efficient. "Alright, you good? You got ‘em?"

She let out a breathy laugh, adjusting her grip.

"Yeah, I think so."

Cole grinned, stepping back to gesture toward the marked spot in front of the camera.

"Perfect, then. Right this way, Ms. Sturniolo."

Y/N choked on a laugh, and Chris practically beamed.

"Ms. Sturniolo, huh?" Chris turned to her, eyes shining with excitement, his grip on her lower back tightening slightly as he guided her onto the designated Glambot mark. "I like the sound of it."

Y/N rolled her eyes, but her laughter betrayed how much she loved seeing him so giddy.

"Don’t let it get to your head, Mr. Sturniolo."

Chris grinned.

"Oh, it’s already there."

As Cole called out instructions, Chris stepped back, giving her space, but he didn’t leave. Instead, he lingered off to the side, watching her with the biggest, most heart-wrenchingly proud smile on his face.

Y/N could feel his gaze on her as she smiled to Cole’s moving camera. She tilted her head, posing slightly, but every time she caught Chris’s eyes in the background, her lips twitched into a barely-contained grin.

She couldn’t help it.

This moment was surreal.

She was standing there, arms full of Grammys, while her person stood just a few feet away, looking at her like she had hung the damn stars in the sky.

After a few more clicks, she shifted the weight of the awards in her arms before looking toward Waliser.

"Can we do one with Chris?" She asked, glancing between the camera and Chris himself.

Cole barely hesitated, quickly nodding.

"Oh, absolutely! Christopher, hop in!"

Chris blinked.

"Oh, I mean- I wasn’t-"

"Oh, shut up and get over here." Y/N teased, a playful glint in her tired eyes.

Chris huffed a soft chuckle before stepping forward, standing beside her as she started redistributing the awards.

"Here." She murmured, placing two specific trophies into his hands.

Song of the Year and Album of the Year.

Chris furrowed his brows slightly, glancing down at the awards before looking back at her.

"Doll-"

"These two." She said softly, eyes locking onto his. "I only got because of you."

His throat bobbed as he swallowed, his fingers tightening around the trophies instinctively.

"Y/N-"

"Just hold them with me." She whispered, nudging him gently.

Chris exhaled through his nose, his lips pressing into a thin line before he gave in, nodding as they both turned to face the camera.

Cole then gave play on his camera, but Y/N barely paid attention to it. She could feel Chris's eyes at her again, his expression unreadable, almost like he was too full of emotion to put it into words.

When the last one was taken, Chris nudged her shoulder lightly.

"C’mon, superstar. Let’s get out of here."

She didn’t hesitate.

After exchanging warm goodbyes with Cole, Y/N and Chris started making their way toward the private exit where their Range Rover was waiting.

Y/N’s entire body felt like it was dragging now, the adrenaline wearing off fast. She wanted nothing more than to be curled up at home, in bed, preferably with Chris’s arms around her.

But before they could reach the doors-

"Y/N!"

A reporter suddenly appeared in front of them, stepping way too close for comfort. Y/N barely had time to react before the microphone was practically in her face.

"So, are you guys heading to the after-party?" The woman asked, her tone almost demanding, her smile overly eager. "What are the plans for the rest of the night?"

Y/N blinked, momentarily stunned by how aggressive the approach was.

Chris, on the other hand... His entire expression darkened. His jaw clenched, and his brows furrowed deeply, his grip tightening around the awards as he took a subtle step closer to Y/N, his entire posture radiating protectiveness.

If looks could kill, the woman would’ve been vaporized on the spot.

But before Chris could say anything, Y/N, despite being exhausted, handled it perfectly.

She didn’t flinch. Didn’t react.

Instead, she simply smiled, a polite, but pointed smile.

"I’m heading home, actually." She said smoothly, adjusting the awards in her arms. "To my family." The reporter barely had time to respond before Y/N added. "Thank you so much. Have a great night."

And just like that, she turned, walking away.

Chris blinked. Then, a slow, smug smirk crept onto his lips as he followed her.

Y/N didn’t give the woman another second of her time. She just kept walking, invisibly pulling Chris with her, her arm brushing against his with every step, greeting and thanking each staff member in the way with warm smiles.

Chris let out a low chuckle as they reached the car, expertly balancing both awards in one hand while using the other to pull open the door for her.

"Damn. That was smooth." His voice was warm, laced with amusement.

Y/N smirked at him over her shoulder, eyes twinkling despite the exhaustion sinking in.

"I’m too tired to deal with more people tonight."

Chris snorted, watching as she slid into the leather seat with a sigh of relief.

"Fair enough."

When he finally climbed into the seat beside hers, he shut the door with a groan, leaning his head back for a second before exhaling slowly.

And just like that, the moment they were sealed inside the warm car, blocking the sounds of loud voices and clicks, the exhaustion slammed into them both.

Y/N melted into the headrest, her eyes falling shut as she let out a deep, heavy breath.

"I feel like I ran a marathon."

Chris chuckled under his breath, rolling his shoulders to ease the tension.

"You did. An emotional one."

She hummed in agreement, her breathing slowing as the exhaustion took hold. Chris reached over instinctively, finding her hand in the dim light of the car, fingers slotting between hers with ease.

His thumb brushed over her knuckles, slow and deliberate, grounding her in the quiet.

"M’so proud of you, baby." His voice was soft, almost a whisper, like he didn’t want to disturb the peacefulness settling over them.

Y/N turned her head toward him, eyelids heavy, but her lips curled into the smallest, sleepiest smile.

"Love you."

Chris lifted their joined hands without hesitation, pressing a gentle kiss to her knuckles, lingering there for just a second longer than necessary.

"Love you more."

She let her eyes flicker down, gaze landing on the golden awards sprawled across her lap and the seat beside her. She reached out, fingertips tracing the engravings, still not entirely believing they were hers.

She let out a thoughtful hum. Five more Grammys.

"We’re gonna have to find space for these at home." She murmured, brows knitting together as she looked over at Chris. "I have no idea where we’re putting them."

Chris chuckled, shaking his head.

"Already taken care of."

She raised an eyebrow.

"What?"

"Nick ordered a whole-ass display cabinet for that empty wall across from the kitchen." He admitted, shooting her a knowing look. "Figured we’d need it."

Y/N blinked, her lips parting slightly.

"He-"

"Yeah." Chris smirked. "So, we’ll put these there with the others from the past years..." He paused, his eyes twinkling playfully. "Until there’s no room left, popstar."

Y/N huffed a soft laugh, shaking her head before leaning over to press a quick kiss to his cheek.

"At this rate." She teased, nuzzling his soft skin. "We’ll need a whole new house."

It was no surprise when, in the next TikTok, the boys recorded in their kitchen, the cabinet full of awards served as the background.

© vanteguccir

[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."

[corkinavoid]

Hey, @confused-they, this is for you and for everyone else who wanted more of this AU. Merry Christmas.

DPxDC Ring of Rage? More Like Ring of Engage [pt. 4]

[<- part 3 | additional notes ->]

[Written to 'Tantrum' by Ashnikko]

TW: mentioned mild gore (some inside parts become outside ones, nothing graphic)

Tim can't breathe.

Joker's mad laughter is ringing through the darkness of the warehouse, echoing in his head, the screeching sound straight out of nightmares. Hood should be nearby - as in, somewhere in this darkness along with him - but Tim can't think about that, his own maniacal giggles bubbling in the back of his throat, a grin tugging at his lips.

He has to get up. He has to stand, he has to fight, and it really shouldn't be this hard.

But he can't breathe.

Tim clutches his fingers on the fabric of his suit on the chest, distantly wondering if this is how Danny feels when he is more human than ghost. Probably not, he mentioned that breathing is only optional.

He really wants his boyfriend right now. His fiance. Whatever, he wants Danny, he wants his cold hands on his cheeks and the faint, humming purr of his core that Tim finds nice to fall asleep to, and-

Maybe later. He can't exactly summon him now, not in the middle of a fight, especially not in the middle of a fight with Joker of all people.

There's an angry growl somewhere to Tim's left, staticky through the voice-modulator. Then several sounds of gunshots and a gleeful, taunting yell of the madman.

Hold on.

Tim snaps his eyes open - not that anything changes, everything is still pitch-black around him - and blinks.

Why not?..

It's not like Danny is a civilian. Tim tends to pay little attention to the fact since the King of Infinite Realms doesn't hang out with the whole superhero convention on principle. But Tim is pretty sure he won't mind it this once.

Besides, Tim is so done with Joker that it's not even funny.

A few breathy chuckles escape his throat as he lets his body fully slump back on the floor and brings his left hand to his face, placing a quick kiss on the Ring through his glove. He doesn't need to do that, not really, but it's kind of a ritual at this point, and the gesture somehow makes him feel better.

"Danny," he whispers.

For a long moment, nothing happens.

Then, there's a soft, popping sound, and his beautiful boyfriend is floating right over him, faintly glowing and a little sleepy. Tim is momentarily distracted by his bare feet and pj pants with tiny rockets on them.

Danny yawns and tugs the hem of his t-shirt down as it starts to float. "Whas'sup," he mutters, rubbing his eyes and clearly not fully awake, and Tim's heart melts instantly. He loves Danny. He just... He loves him, okay? He loves that Danny didn't question his summons for a moment, he loves that he came even though he was obviously sleeping, and he loves that Danny is wearing a tee he stole from Tim.

Unfortunately, before he is able to get his shit back together, another sound of gunshot ripples through the air, and Danny startles, blinking himself awake and looking in the direction of it. Then, his eyebrows shoot up, and his mouth makes a soft 'O' shape before he turns back to Tim and tilts his head in question.

"You want me to deal with him? The clown, I mean, not your brother," he asks, and it's so casual and off-handed that Tim actually huffs a laugh.

"Sorry, I was just- I'm really tired of his ass," Tim should probably sit up, this is not a talk they should have while he is lying on the ground. On the other hand, Jason is somewhere out there, and he has guns and doesn't have a clear visual around him, so maybe Tim shouldn't sit up.

Danny hums, "Is that a yes?"

Tim just nods. He is pretty sure Danny can see him despite the darkness. "I promise it's a one-time thing, I don't plan on calling you every time one of local lunatics acts up. I just... I fucking can't with him," he admits with a defeated sigh. But, before he can spiral any further into the abyss of unworthiness, Danny's cold hands are cupping his cheeks, and his icy eyes are looking right into Tim's sky blue.

"Love, I don't mind getting rid of each and every one of your Rogues. Granted, it would probably fuck up the timeline, and Clocky would be mad, but I'd do it if you want me to, no questions asked." His voice is quiet, and Tim has never been more grateful for his domino mask, because he can feel his cheeks heating up and he doesn't want Danny to see the exact effect his words are causing.

"I- Okay," he quietly agrees, and then blinks, backtracking, "Wait, no, don't fuck up the timeline. Just deal with the laughing bitch this once, and that's it. We can handle the rest."

Danny is smiling at him in that adoring way Tim recognizes as 'I really want to kiss you, but it's not the time or place'. Then, he nods and lets go of Tim's cheeks, straightening up in the air, and his clothes shift all at once, like a magic trick.

Gone are the stretched out t-shirt and the pants with rocket ships. In their place, Danny's body is head to toe covered in stars and galaxies that hold the vague shape of armor, and there's a slightly shimmering, blueish-green translucent cape over one of his shoulders.

The Crown over his head, the sentient artifact much like the Ring on Tim's finger, appears from nowhere, and, after a brief pause - Tim swears it was debating on whether or not the situation is worth the effort - promptly sets itself on fire. Blue flames cast long shadows on Danny's, no, King's face, making him look older and his cheekbones sharper.

Before, the boy was only faintly glowing, and, evidently, the others present in the warehouse were too distracted to notice him.

But now, with the flaming Crown casting dancing shadows on the walls of the warehouse, it's really hard not to see the otherworldly being making an appearance.

"Holy fuck," Tim hears Hood's quiet, astonished voice, and almost cracks a grin.

Yeah, he wants to say, that's my boyfriend. Although he suspects he and Jason are having vastly different reactions to Danny's presence. Because Tim kind of wants to take all his words about dealing with Joker back and take Danny home, straight to bed.

...He is going to have to strangle Jason in his sleep if his reaction is similar. No, that's a wrong thought, this is so not the time for it.

"Who are you, flying glowstick?" Joker sounds rightfully pissed off by the interruption, "Does Batsy employ alien kids now?"

Danny chuckles, the starry freckles on his cheeks glowing brighter, "Okay, just because you compared me to an alien, I'm not going to completely erase you from this plane of existence."

Tim snaps his head up.

"Wait, no killing," he reminds, not because he actually cares but because B would throw a fit. Danny brushes him off with a wave of his hand.

"No worries, he'll stay alive," he smiles at Tim, and to everyone else, it probably looks like stuff of nightmares, sharp, pointy teeth and lips stretched out far beyond human capabilities. But Tim sees it for what it is: a face of mischief.

"Do I get a vote in this?" Jason's deadpan voice comes from somewhere on the other side of the warehouse at the same moment as Joker screeches in rage, "Who the fuck do you think-"

"Nope," Danny pops the 'p', and Tim is not sure if he is answering to Hood or refusing to listen to the clown's monolog by it. Maybe it's both. It's probably both.

The next moment, Danny is gone, disappeared from the place he was floating at, and Tim hears a wet, very unpleasant sound followed by Joker's scream of pain.

"You see this?" He hears Danny's nonchalant, unfazed voice above the clown's pained cries, "This is your rib, bitch- Hey, quit whining and listen to me, it's important."

There's a slap, a rustle, and a sound of ripping fabric, and Joker's voice becomes muffled, like someone put a gag in his mouth.

"You're like Adam now, you know, lacking one rib," Danny continues, "Only I'm not making you a girl out of this one, I'm pretty sure you don't deserve to reproduce. Anyway, going further down that metaphor, I'm the God almighty in this situation, so if you want to keep the rest of your ribs - and the rest of other things that are supposed to stay inside of you - to yourself, you gotta do a thing for me, okay?"

There's some muffled groans that Joker makes in response, then an enraged growl, a sound of a struggle, another slap, and then that same wet, disgusting squelch.

"Two ribs, wow, okay, you're really being difficult about this!" Danny sounds so innocently dumbstruck about it that Tim suppresses a laugh. "Are you listening now?" There's a quiet, choking wheeze that answers him, and Danny sounds quite pleased when he says, "Great."

Tim debates if he should look. He doesn't exactly want to since the sounds provide enough context, but it might be somewhat cathartic for him.

And then the air around him inexplicably shifts, becoming cold and oppressive, weighting Tim down like a heavy blanket and pushing him into the floor. The dancing shadows and the blue light of flames on the walls twist and churn, like taking aim, and Tim doesn't know what Danny looks like right now but he knows he is as far from human as possible, his voice coming with a staticky, echoing whisper, a threatening hiss slithering inside Tim's ears.

"Play your little games all you want, Fallen Jester, but know that you can not win. The punchline to your joke is long overdue, and your soul has belonged to me for quite some time now," his words are cold and uncaring, and in all the time Tim has known his boyfriend, he has never heard him speak like this: with a sense of lazy power, like he is only humoring the people around him.

Like they mean nothing to him.

"I will not kill you, or at least not here and now. My Guiding Star doesn't want to see my hands dirty with your filthy remains. Besides, death is only a moment, and you don't deserve only a moment of suffering," he huffs a short, humorless chuckle, "But, luckily, I am the Eyes of the Universe, the Titan's Bane, the King of the Dead, and everyone will meet me once their eyes fall shut for the last time," there's a smile in his voice now, full of cold and merciless anticipation. Tim feels a shiver run down his spine.

"So just you wait, Jester, and I will meet you on the other side. Then we'll see how whatever is left of your soul is going to spend an eternity."

Tim's ears are ringing with the pure, somehow gleeful hatred that laces those last words. He didn't know he could literally taste the disgust and the promise of pain, and yet, here he is, with a hint of something sour on his tongue.

And then, the heavy, weighted air that has been charged with power is lifted, the shadows and bright blue lights are all gone, and Danny, wearing his pj's and smiling, is standing over him. His feet are planted on the ground for once, and the Crown is gone without a trace, but his t-shirt is still trying to float up. The boy tugs it down again, offering a hand to Tim.

"Wanna go out for a burger since I'm already here in Gotham?"

Tim had never breathed easier in his life. He laughs a little and reaches up, taking his beautifully unhinged boyfriend's hand and standing up.

"I thought you'd never ask."

[clown-bimbo]

Despite being transmigrated to a world of magic almost completely different to your own, with a rich history and culture you know nothing about, you are still expected to go to school.

And you can't even get any of your medications for it.

You're like halfway through the school year, and you are stressed. Maybe that's putting it nicely. You are stressed, pressed, and depressed, and studying for a history test of a world you were never a part of. And on top of all the typical school bullshit, there's also your social life, Grim, whatever bullshit Crowley throws your way. There's also the crushing dread you'll never get home again, and the depression that comes with your situation and oh yeah the depression that runs rampant in your brain without the proper chemicals to tell it to shut up.

You're fuckin S T R E S S E D.

And your buddies are starting to notice it.

Hi, and welcome to the first horny addition to Stuck In TWST Without Meds. Today we'll be taking a look at how Cater, Trey, Leona, Rook, Vil, Idia, and Malleus might fuck your brains out to distract you from the fucking everything in your life.

18+ content below the cut. minors, this one isn't for you

all characters (including you) are 18+. established relationships.

In hindsight I don't think this is at all "smutty" enough so I'm sorry!!! But I'm really proud of how each one ends. Might go back and make them smuttier or make a smuttier part two idk but I like how it is rn

🍀

Trey already typically stays up fairly late, what with vice housewarden duties and all, but he's surprised to find you have him beat. When he left you in his room, it was with your promise that you'd be done in a minute. Buy he was gone for a good half hour longer than 'a minute', and there you were, still at his desk, furiously scribbling away with bags under your eyes.

Cute.

You don't even notice when he comes up from behind you to place a small kiss on your cheek.

"I think it's about time for bed, prefect."

"Just a minute."

"That's what you said an hour ago."

That gets you to actually look at the time. You whimper at the hour gone (and little progress made), but brush him off.

"It'll only take a minute."

Trey sighs and shakes his head.

He considers for a second leaving you be, but this is the man who got Riddle away from studying for treats. He's got tricks up his sleeve. Though he is about to use some very different tricks for you.

It starts with his hands on your shoulders. Innocent little rubs to your shoulders. Another kiss to your cheek. A kiss to your jaw. A kiss to your neck... that sweet spot between your neck and shoulder. A nibble.

His hands are moving, too. From your shoulders, to your biceps. Soon he's taking your hand in his, holding it up to his lips.

"Trey--"

"Yes?"

"W-what," You suck in a breath as he leaves another love bite on your neck. "What are you doing?"

He simply hums.

His other hand gets to your thigh.

Your pen is abandoned.

💎

Cater whines your name from his spot on his bed.

"Just a second, Cater."

"But that's what you said an hour ago!"

He has that adorable look in his eyes, and if you'd only look at him!!! he KNOWS he'd have you in his hands.

But you won't, and he doesn't.

He flops back onto the bed with a sigh.

Until he gets an idea.

For a second, one foolish second, you think you have peace. Until you start hearing a quiet but telltale shlick shlick shlick.

His breathing starts to quicken. Then he's oanting. Soon you can hear quiet moans escape his lips.

And you can hear your name as well.

God damn it.

Cater grins as you finally get up from his desk.

🦁

Your stress is stressing Leona out.

He's lounging on his bed while you work on studying for Trein's test. Leona commented that you're taking freshman history, which is "baby stuff" to which you reminded him "I AM LITERALLY NOT FROM THIS WORLD, LEONA." And, to his credit, he did try to tutor you, but Leona is the kind of tutor that only works for certain individuals and you, bless your heart, are not that type.

So he gave up (lazy lion) while you continued to work. But he can basically hear your cogs turning from his spot and it's just not productive for either of you.

So, with a growl, Leona grabs you by the collar, only to start aggressively unbuttoning it.

"Leona-"

"Shut up."

"Leona, I-"

To which you are met with a 'shut up' kiss.

But you're pretty quick to forgive him once he has you on your knees under him.

"You're working too hard, Herbivore." He grunts from over you. "Give that little brain of yours a break and let me do all the work, alright?"

🏹

It's already difficult for you to continue studying when you have Rook whispering all sorts of French terms of endearment into your ear.

He's all over you, trying to coax you away from work and into bed with massages and the aforementioned French nothings.

Nothing.

He sighs, leaning back.

Until a wicked little idea brings a grin to his face.

"Mon amour," He whispers, to which you hum in reply. "I'm going to get a snack." Another hum.

A second later you feel a hand at your pants zipper. You look down to see none other than Rook, of course, hitting you with a closed eyed smile.

👑

Vil had been helping you with your homework. Bit even after he had stopped to get changed for bed, you had kept to it. And now you had vil worried about you. While he respected your gumption, you weren't going to get anything out of staying up all night and worrying yourself. You had used up your productive hours (quite productively, he would like to add) and now it is time for sleep.

He calls your name once.

...

Oh, this will not do.

He stalks over to you. He reaches out with one perfectly manicured hand and traces your jawline.

"Darling," He purrs. "It's time for bed."

"I cant." You reply. "I-"

"Uh, uh, uh, uh." He brings a slender finger to your lips. He takes your chin between his fingers and turns you to look at him.

"It's time for bed." He repeats. "Are you going to behave for me, or am I going to have to show a naughty little spud its place?"

💀

Let's be real, Idia's probably not going to sleep at a reasonable time, but he's also not staying up stewing over homework. If he's gonna have you staying up all night in his room with him it's gonna be—

W-w-w-wait, not like that!!! He was gonna say if you're gonna be staying up all night with him it would be cuz you're playing videos games! That's all!!

Oh, but now he's thinking about it... but you're working... ugh, but it's such beginner knowledge! But you're so focused... you... you wouldn't notice if he–

But you do notice. You do notice the 6 foot tall flaming haired nerd (affectionate) humping against you. It would be harder not to notice.

🐉

Malleus is concerned about his precious child of man. He can see how stressed you are. How hard you work. He wants nothing more than alleviate the troubles plaguing your mind.

And Lilia had a... curious suggestion.

Youre working away within your own dorm room when there's a knock at your door.

Malleus grins down at you.

"May I come in?"

And you say yes.

You worry about your work left upstairs, but you play the role of gracious host and prepare him a cup of tea. He takes a seat.

"You've been troubled recently." He notes.

You sigh. "I've just been stressed with all this work."

"I see." He's silent for a moment. "I dont like seeing you in so much distress." He confesses. "Might I offer my assistance?"

You blink. "Oh, sure. Yes, I'd love that. Thank you." You expect he's going to help you study.

You do not expect, however, for him to press you up against a wall and his lips against yours.