Darknets | 03 Yandere!jungkook Au

Sooo soo great!!!

UNHAPPY BULLY

SERIES PART 1-4

Warning: May contain triggering content, bullying, mentions of blood, and other things you might not like. Errors might be present, please don't mind them. Enjoy!

Summary: She's the quiet one, she's the loud one, he's her tormentor, he's her problem at school. He might be obsessed with her.

Word count: 7.4k

Since it was requested and liked, I decided to make a story with almost the same premise, excluding the one-shot material, it's the full package. There's more to come. If you want;)

The more she tries to avoid it, the harder it gets. It's a bittersweet truth.

Subjected to his mean words retained a cynical outcome on her conviction, always glaring at her, smiling at her misery, touching her with intent to hurt, tossing paper balls at her, sometimes pulling her hair If she ever had the tragic coincidence sitting in front of him. Whenever they shared eye contact, she feels as though he is wordlessly disparaging her with his blood-red eyes. For the most part, however, it wasn't physical.

Today, he seemed more competitive.

Sitting in the far back with the other girls, separated by gender, she observes the way her blonde bully perfects his task, hearing her male classmates cheer at the sight, for anything minor or major, she had gotten adjusted. Her teacher returned, a whistleblower hanging from the collar, a small stick he likes to use at his grasp.

The girls beside her quietly laughed, whispering something into each other's ears, some lack shame she presumes.

They tapped her shoulder and gently uttered 'the boys told us to give you this message, Katsuki likes your black underwear.' She ceased, side-eyed her giggling classmate, then pressed her lips together, the humiliation sweeping up her body, she nervously looks back at their teacher, attempting to disregard the dreadful beats of her heart. Thoughts ran rampant in her affected mind, she clenches her fist around her wrist, swallowed her unease when the teacher noticed her.

"Let's see how much you've all improved since the last time, we'll be doing a race test, then throwball test, finally, strength test." He sternly spoke, glancing at his students, some appearing excited, others apprehensive.

"First row, you are up."

The words dulled themselves, the noisy cheers and girls talking tuning out, she just couldn't help but overthink, the most consistent thought being, 'when- how did he see it?' She has been so meticulous in evading him, no boys were allowed in the changing rooms unless someone beguiles, leaked information to disrespect her. It wouldn't be uncharacteristic of her classmates. She briefly looked at the other side, watching the blonde focus on the current race, however, slowly looked her way and smirked, as if he was anticipating her reaction.

She was the one to break away the instant their gaze met, steadily inhaling while she bit on her lips, she attempts to concentrate, hopefully, neglect her pressing notions for a short while, so she doesn't end up butchering her physical test.

"Ok! The last row, you are up!" She rose, jogging behind the girls to catch up, each race consisted of five students, she was up with the gossiping girls and two mean girls who probably knew what colour of underwear she was wearing now. She gulps, slowly taking her place in between them, failing to dismiss the pessimistic feelings, she got in her position, her heartbeat accelerating, she feels like she isn't in the moment when the whistle sounds out and the five of them galloped.

The applause was loud in her ears, shouts and raving she heard of her that managed to bother her. She kept up her pace, in the lead before the black-haired classmate caught up, then she listens to her say. "You suck, black underwear." She teased, quickly running forwards, she grimaced, using her last bit of energy to force herself to move hastily. As they neared the finish line, she sprinted right behind her, both of them now in the same place. It could be a tie if they kept up. She gave her nasty glare, putting all her strength and eventually left the girl behind, securing herself the first place.

She had never won the golden opportunity before, so it came as a pleasant surprise when her teacher cheered and said, "Woah! That's a big improvement, you had come last place, right?" He asked, she nodded, breathing heavily. He patted her and sent them away, then she saw, the shocking look in the girl's grey eyes. Hatred.

"She came first place, okay how did that happen?" She heard them mutter amongst themselves, staring at her as if she had grown another head.

"She must have cheated."

She sat down, pulling her blue water bottle out only to see it empty. Someone... Drank it? She knew exactly who it was. She groaned, thirsty but toiled to keep her temper in check, she leaned back, resting her trembling legs as the adrenaline fades off. Her throat itching for some water.

Wiping the sweat off her eyebrows, exhausted from just the first test, she inspected the boy's competition around the ground, a certain green-haired boy seizing her attention, in the last place, but still pushing with all his might. Small-ish, lean, short, and quirkless, a distant friend from childhood, he's another victim of her bully, known as deku, while she was referred to as loopy, in short, crazy.

"Ok! Last team! You are up."

It was katsuki's turn, she could heed the boy's gaiety already, the blonde pushed past the depleted greenette who didn't say anything and walked back to his seat, even her female classmates smiled, silently interested in seeing him.

"On your marks, get, set, go!!"

The five boys were off, and her bully quickly obtained the lead, the four others wanting to get the first place but Katsuki had already travelled a long distance and they wouldn't reach in time. He was going to win from the very beginning.

The crowd lauded, flaring the guy's ego, he gave a big restrained smile, moving back to his place, with a huge swell of arrogance, settling down in the middle of the restless boys, still celebrating their bets.

"Now then we are done with the racing test, we can go onto the next game, throwball. You'll be divided into two teams, consisting of both boys and girls, gather round, I'll team you up." Everyone got up, thrilled for the match-up, she wasn't too pleased about it, lazily hauling herself as she blended into the mob, observing her teacher evaluate his choice and gripingly put them into wrong teams.

"Team A, Miyamura, shin, Makoto, lolly, rudo, midoriya..." Then he carried on, she didn't get picked in that team, and neither, her bully, she was about to get teamed up with him, wasn't she? This day couldn't get any worse.

"Team B, Bakugo, Rosie, Haru, Asahi, lei, Aiko, Aoi..." Then his wrinkled eyes landed on her, she knew she was doomed.

"And L/n! Ok, we are good to go!"

It had been such an awful experience discussing strategy and arrangement with her bully, he straight up didn't want her in his team, but begrudgingly decided to have her beside him in the middle. She knew she was to be horrible at this, and he was going to hate her more now since he's so obsessed with winning, with victory.

The match began, most of the throws ended up on the blonde's side, and whenever it did head towards her, he would catch it instead, one time, he even hit her on the cheek with his elbow when he caught the ball, it hurt, she started to dislike him even more.

The fierce competition was ongoing, she had thrown a grand total of two times, miraculously, he deliberately plucks her out of place when she had to receive the brown orb, she ended up on her butt at least thrice, and they were in the lead, a few points and it will be over.

Relief had flooded her senses upon thinking the finale, she was expending less awareness when Katsuki yelled her name, and she was met with the ball to the face, disorienting her vision, she stumbled back, gripping her throbbing nose and face, she looked down at her palms and found blood, the dark red liquid slowly drips down her lips, she swallowed, looking at her teacher who rushed towards her before taking her off the field. Everyone stood still, silence engulfing their once clamorous contest.

She suffered a minor nose bleed, got cotton stuffed in her nostril, and had an awkward atmosphere upon entering the classroom, she was expecting someone to tease but none were sneered her way and the rest of the classes went on normally. She hadn't gotten any 'are you okay' either, she doesn't know if she preferred it or not.

Her P.E teacher nearly had a heart attack, one of his statements stuck with her, 'you are so delicate, you need to get strong.' He meant it with good intentions, she had heard that expression from her parents as well. Her bully hadn't backed off from making her day a little less bad by stealing her notes for the upcoming class. If she was caught not possessing her notebook, she's bound to get lectured and punished.

She hated him.

After class, she confronted him.

"Can you give me back my notes?" She vehemently spoke, arms crossed, one leg stuck out, tapping against the floor impatiently.

"Oh, you look ugly with those in your nose." He said, faking an exaggerated disgusted facade.

"Return it back or else..."

He turned towards her, fully facing her with a tough look in his eyes, she returned the gesture, pinching her lips with the way he stood with pride.

"What are you going to do? Report me?" He taunted, leaning inwards, challenging her with a glare.

"Yes, this time to the principal."

He laughed, grumbling, "just for a book?" He tsked, continuing, "you are pathetic."

"No, for everything you've done." She spits back, narrowing her eyes at him.

"Oh! Is that so? What evidence have you got against me? Deku? He won't get in a word, he's a loser, and you are far worse than him." He retorted.

"The principal won't have a reason to deny if I bring my parents into the picture, plus you still have my notebook with you, you haven't returned so it should be proof enough." She responded, not missing the way his lips twitched, his eyes hardening.

"Hey, dude! Why are you keeping us waiting for so long?" His friends shouted from the front of the class, halting at the sight of their friend and his victim, "you want us to leave without you?" They smugly smiled, elbowing each other, then slowly walking out, leaving the both of them to themselves.

"If you say anything to anyone, I'm going to make your life a living hell." He threatened, grabbing her collar and propelling her towards him. "You don't want that, do you?" He ceased for a moment, grinning wide as if he had gotten a brilliant idea, he resumed, "if you want me to stop, maybe we could do a trade."

"No thanks, I know how you are, it's probably not in my interest." She bravely muttered, it irked him, he shoved her away, the smile on his face fading away, "you don't know when to give up, do you?"

He grimaces, shifting back to get his backpack, plopping it on his shoulder, he stared at her maliciously and said.

"If you want your notebook, you gotta have something in return for me."

With that, he left.

She strutted there for a short while, reflecting on her alternatives because no matter what, he somehow manages to outsmart her. Every time.

When her tears were more than her words, her courage less than that of her quirk. She met her bully, with blonde hair, ruddy eyes, and an enlarged ego that seemed to increase tenfold once applause was sent it's way, it was a one-time thing, she was just going to play along with boys her age, perhaps younger since she had no one else, and while most of them were against it, a sweet green-haired boy insisted, holding her hand and bringing her with him.

It was discouraging to be thereafter the severe disagreement, however, she still followed, she was the only girl with four to five chaps.

That day, was the first and last time she was ever going to reside in that group.

They were far rowdier and carefree than her, proudly walking in the street, she and the other boy trailing behind them, and then they stepped inside a convenience store, she had watched them buy stuff, all might items, she observed their smiles upon tearing it open, right outside the shop, grinning in delight.

The blonde kid was far happier than any one of them, denying his now treasured object any spying eyes, protecting it and retrieving it inside his pocket. She felt out of place, for some reason.

Then, they played hero and villain, like any other kid she's seen, she had to be the one rescued, and she oddly delighted that. The green-haired boy was a villain, while the blonde one was a hero, she was the civilian who needed saving. It was a fun pastime, her heart was beating fast, watching the two quarrel, until the greenette got harshly pushed down. She got up and asked him if he was okay, it did not please the others.

"You are supposed to ask me if I'm okay, not him!" The blonde sneered at her, she frowned, lowering her gaze, muttering, "was I supposed to? But you weren't hurt." She innocently replied, "even villains are humans like us, they get hurt too, you know."

"Do you have a crush on deku or something? Because you sound stupid." He argued, she shared brief eye contact with the kid, a sad expression now on her small face.

She doesn't know what to say.

"I think I like him more." She hesitantly answered, "you don't know how a hero should act, they are never mean to anyone."

It bothered him.

Then came a hard shove.

That was what she recalled, seeing the all might plushie at the store, safely tugged at the corner, almost gone, the shop had a handful of customers at this time, nowadays, finding hero merch was common, and it got a lot of attention and profit. All might has never been her favourite, not after her mind associated that bitter memory with meeting her bully, then the green-haired boy, Deku, she never got herself to know him, maybe she was upset, angry with how things flipped upside down. Or she just resented him for suffering around those mean kids, it made her sad thinking about him, two of kacchan's victims.

"Oh! um..." she faced the timid voice, finding her greenette classmate standing before her, shying away from direct eye content, she turned away, picking the item from the toy section and prepared to depart, "you're taking that...?" inquired the boy, particularly no feelings stuck out to her, she felt nothing towards him, neutral, leaning a little towards dislike from time to time.

"Yes, did you want it?" she asked, ready to hand it to him, but he hastily disagreed, "n-no! It's fine! I've never seen you here, buying all might stuff..." he awkwardly replied, pressing his lips into a thin line. "I usually don't but because of someone, I have to," she responded.

His eyes light up, and he flashes her a tiny smile, "is it a gift?"

She quickly shook her head, furrowing her eyebrows and narrowing her eyes at the image of having her bully as a kind of friend, "no, I just gotta get it for my notebook." he questioned her with a puzzled look, "as an accessory?" she grinned, faking enthusiasm. She couldn't deal with any queries right now. She tries to leave, but is stopped again, by a curious boy who asked, "are you and kacchan... in a relationship?" she quickly answered, in a bitter tone.

"No." she gave him a brief glance and took off.

'He calls me loopy for a reason, perhaps he is right.'

The next morning, she approached him, demanded her belonging, and got back a crude response, asking for a little something, she had gotten a plushie but, would he even want it? A grown boy who was a bully would want something soft that she went out of her way to get, with her pocket money, to her liking, he wouldn't, a hardened guy like him can't appreciate it.

"Unless you give me something precious of yours, I won't give it back." he arrogantly declared, further irking her, her eyes sting, her throat tightened, and the urge to slap him amplified.

"I don't get it, what do you want?" she mumbled, irritated. As if she would ever willingly hand him her most treasured item with ease.

"Hmm, preferably something black." he shrugged. He knew that she knew what he was talking about, but she acted obliviously. "A mask?"

He moved forward, and softly whispered, "Black underwear loopy, remember that?"

She immediately pushed him back, ignoring his wicked laugh, and sat down, recoiling from stress and anger, glaring at his taunting form, how long can she go without her notes.?

At lunch break, she eagerly requested some of her classmates to lend her their book but, nobody was ready to hand it off and hope for the best, he seriously threatened them not to give her any help?

At last, she stopped in front of her final choice, Deku.

She stopped him as the entire class emptied, even their bully, so it was just the two of them, alone, together, as victims. She halts at his desk, gulping down her concerns.

"Can you lend me your science notebook, I promise I'll return it as soon as possible." she spoke pleadingly, he nervously stared at her, "um..." without hearing his answer, she slouched, speaking a little louder, "don't tell me Katsuki threatened you too?" he bowed his head down, looking up regretfully, confirming, "kacchan's been telling everyone not to help you with anything, but..." he finished, voice latched with sorrow. Their gaze connected, she fought the urge to tear her eyes away from him.

"Is that why you were getting him that plushie...?"

She momentarily ceased, thinking it through, then gently uttered.

"I wasn't thinking about it, I just bought it impulsively. Besides, not that he will return my notes either way, even if I gave it to him before he laughed." she honestly replied, correcting her posture and stepping back. Now aware, even he might not be able to aid her.

"But- you got it for him..." he softly mumbled to himself, lowering his eyes to his plain neat desk, hands gripped in his laps, blinking at his held fist.

"I don't get it, why are you so upset about it?" she mused, observing his expression alter and diffuse. "I-I'm not! I promise, just, do you regret meeting me?" he suddenly surprised her with the query, she watched him shift nervously in his seat, avoiding her eyes like it meant something horrible, "no, I don't. Actually, I don't think I've made amends with you."

He tearfully glanced at her face, wanting her to carry on but she turned her face from him and clutched the straps of her bag in her fingers, saying one last thing before cutting her short conversation with him, "it's okay if you don't wanna help, no problem, I'll see you tomorrow."

She leaves. The sting of guilt doesn't take long to invite itself in.



The school campus is brimming with students, tall, short and alike, striding their merry way home, she was one of them, gaze cast down, attending to the dirt crushing underneath her school shoes, it was breezy for a moment and then it wasn't, the light slowly veering orange. A heavy arm suddenly grabs her neck from behind, prompting her to avert her gaze to the familiar person holding her waterway in a tight squeeze.

"You're coming out rather late, what were you doing with deku?" The grumpy raspy voice of her tormentor sounded near her ear, she shoot him a scowl, about to plop his arm back to his side, however, he resettled his grasp and further leaned over to her cheeks.

"You could have my notes if you are so desperate." He mocked, snickering at her miserable endeavour.

"Yeah sure, why don't you just give me my notebook back." She acknowledged.

"What if I burned it and threw it away, you still want it back?" He muttered, drawing closer to her, his arm now slithering to her waist, just low enough, clasping her hipbone, perking up at her startled reaction.

Without saying anything, she ripped off his hand, removed it from her body and jabbed it to his left side, rejecting his terrorizing grimace, quickly stepping away from his reach, ambling towards the entrance.

"If you are not going to tell me then I'm going to ruin it, and I won't give you mine either, not like anyone else is going to entrust their belongings to you." He shouted, knowing where to pull her strings.

Even though she wouldn't admit it, she needed it before tomorrow.

She thinks for a quick duration, examining for any tell-tale signs of dishonesty or animosity, she forced herself to oblige, she couldn't get reprimanded for something fixable. Hesitantly, she speaks up.

"Fine." She swiftly made her way towards him, defensively folding her arms near her chest and disapprovingly staring at his arrogant face.

"What's your deal with that nerd?"

"I asked him if he would give me his notes, that's all, plus we met at a shop yesterday, nothing happened, I was just looking for something to buy." She responds.

He doubtingly peers, soaking in the slightest shift in her movement, her face, and his gut told him she wasn't lying right under his nose, he hums, pulling his bag off his shoulder, he quickly takes his book out, hands it to her, not before lifting out her reach.

"You better not damage it, or pour any drop of water, juice, anything, think you can do that?" He boasts, chancing to get an 'aye' out of her lips. She frigidly nods, lips tightened.

He smiles, content with his plan.

"Good. You better come to school tomorrow, don't even try to get me into trouble for getting absent with my notes."

"Okay! Geez, you have too many restrictions on your list, why the demand?"

"You should know who's in control right now, you say anything more and I'll snatch it back." She silently groans, mentally mourning her desperate decisions.

Her room reeked of jasmine. Denser in the centre of her space, her bed still unmade, curtains half drawn and her worn clothes thrown on her stool, she sat down on the comfy mattress, drawing out a relieved sigh, she inspected her sloppy area.

Suddenly standing up to view the book on her study table, she didn't notice it before, but his notebook oddly smelled like caramel, a little bit of burnt sugar, and an unidentified fragrance she couldn't pinpoint, was it apples? Or perhaps it was a men's cologne.

Seeing her phone, she instantly kept it back into its original position, interested in checking on the latest news about recent incidents, unfortunately, as soon as she opened it, she saw a lot of messages on her insto and reluctantly decided to hold off her mundane endeavour.

As she tasks herself to answer, she finds a few accounts of her classmates, and then it leads to her curiosity heightening and ripening, perceiving their cringe profile and caption, in the end, she managed to unearth one shocking discovery.

Her bully had an account.

She couldn't negate the familiarity between him and her hypersensitive torturer, it had to be him, no posts were made, just a simple affidavit to show his personality, she wants to bet his side-bubbies did this for him, but there's always a possibility of being false. Most of her classmates were following him, except her, and her distant friend.

Maybe he was dared to make an account- there's no way he did it out of his own will.

KATSUKI BAKUGO IS NOW FOLLOWING YOU. 1 SEC AGO.

Her eyes grow wide.

She receives the notification before a request to message, she wildly couldn't approve his follow petition, she could block him. Even if that sounds harsh, he's committed worse. Sadly for her, he is just going to afflict her more misery if she doesn't.

The proclamation reads, 'follow me back loser, you don't forget to bring my notebook tomorrow if you don't return it, I'm going to kill you.' He cared more about his paper tablet than her feelings. She stiffly hovers over the button, her thumb slightly trembling, stare trained on the smirking face of her bully, his picture confirmed it.

It was him.

Hesitantly her fingers tapped on the letters, erasing her sentence twice, rephrasing it properly in case he assumes it wrongly, the entire time, she doesn't realise she was holding her breath, chewing on her lips, reading her memo thrice, she sends it.

She accepted to follow him back and then blacklisted him. She couldn't see his messages and it was better that way.

Besides, not that he will care.

About to retire from her device to freshen up, disregard and forgive, she gets an unknown call, she immediately rejects it, standing up to close her curtains. It was likely just a bogus call.

Now adorned in soft clothes, she plops on her chair, her phone on mute, prepared to relax and binge-watch videos, but her mother shouting for her presence downstairs had compelled her to put her idea on wait again. She internally groans, carrying herself towards her mother's voice.

She retreated to her dull space after a tough while had breezed by, mildly annoyed but still had a soft tint in her eyes, grabbing her gadget to take pictures of her bully's notes since she doesn't feel like writing and it being impossible jot it down in a single day, she chose to print it out the next morning before school. She opened the slab, gently turning the papers and observing his rather neat handwriting, too elegant for a fella like him. She was astonished.

At unlocking her golden covered phone, several unknown calls had been made to her number, she got uneasy. Checking it prior to making a quick call to know who was trying to get a hold of her. She bought it to her right ear, nervously surveying her entire room as the call begins to drag on.

Until a firm stern voice startled her senses.

"Why didn't you pick up earlier?"

She knew who it was just by the tone of his voice, low, raspy, and an angered portrayal of him already playing inside her head.

She spoke.

"I didn't know it was you." She defended, her legs glued to the floor as she stiffly tried to think ahead, bitting her lips for reassurance.

He didn't answer.

"So- how did you get my number?" She anxiously inquired, glancing at the walls, anything her gaze landed on. She needed some sort of closure, her heart was slowly starting to pound faster.

"Deku gave it." He replied in a single breath, his line on the call was oddly quiet.

She looked at her clock, it was already past nine, was he a late sleeper?

"It's late, I'll hang up now. Bye." She sheepishly uttered, quickly tapping the red button and moving into her chair. She concludes with how different he sounded.

The next sunrise, she woke up late.

She didn't concern herself, at first.

Then recollected her plan to print his notebook just in case, then came her frenzied rush, unfortunately, she had less time to spare and ran out the door with her mother screaming to have breakfast, she sprinted, legs shaky and adrenaline coursing through her blood, breaths short and quick, inhaling through her mouth, her dry uniform dampen with sweat.

Jogging hastily at the scenery of her destination, she galloped across the deserted surface, dismissing the prying stares by her classmates, already in class and seated by the window. She stopped in front of her classroom door just on cue for the bell to ring and signal their impending lot. She collapsed, only to sit straight up and anxiously rampage her bag's contents.

Fishing out the notebook.

Searching it to see if it was the correct one.

It was, she could pass it over during lunch break. The problem was, approaching him willing, after the tactics he pulled on her, she's uncertain, cautious, careful, she shouldn't let him take advantage of her meek nature but, when their eyes connect and he glares with potent bitterness, her heart halts, and the air captive inside her lungs. He was intimidating.

She avoided him, solely for that rationale.

Part of her did not want to admit, she was frightened.

Instead of delivering it to him herself, she begged one of his side-buddies to do it in her cause, and he strangely consented, muttering her thanks and departing with the notebook. She grew more sentimental over it than her bully.

Positive this subsisting to be the last time she had to repay anything of his.

Besides, he was probably enraged she arrived later than sooner and was adamant about teaching her a lesson via a harsh glint, she's subconsciously made a comparison to him being moody vs his usual temper, pondering the same thing upon dropping down on her seat and getting a candy bar out of her pocket. In a hurry, she left her lunch box as well, and she didn't have breakfast either, so this was much she could afford with her current pocket money.

Students were present with her, just her bully and his friends were missing, breaks were her least and most favourite time of the day, it is also when her heckler was picky on her.

In the back seat, her green-haired friend shyly peeks at her figure, his hand grasping a pen and words neatly in scribbled. Wishing to talk with her, but decked not to.

And his intuition was right about it.

Entered their childhood bully with hands stuffed in his pockets. His buddies eluded from his side, standing straight as he loomed over the spirited female, immediately glancing up to stare at him, he lours, deferentially uttering.

"Why didn't you come to give me my notes huh? Are you that ungrateful?" He narrowed his scarlet eyes, furrowing his cream coloured eyebrows.

"I bet you are, didn't even say a word of gratitude after I humbly gave my help to you. You thankless brat." He scornfully ridiculed her, the girl took no intuitive to respond, drinking in his words, admitting mentally, he was right, she didn't thank him. Silence followed.

It was tense for a long moment.

She opened her lips and said.

"Thank you." She wasn't as prideful as him, and it didn't seize much out of her to say something appreciative.

He appeared taken aback, however, his hardened expression endured, he let out a disgruntled sigh, still glaring at her being.

Watching her without saying anything.

"Hmph. Loser." Finally, he mouthed, showing her his back and fled.

Her timid friend had taken note of everything unusual, but simply looked down and dismissed his longing to communicate.

But still, his gaze lingered around her.



School had ended, and she arrived home early, stomach protesting for some delicious contents, without having done anything she normally does after coming home, she strode towards the kitchen and opened the fridge. To find vegetables and none of her delightfully treats, she plopped down, upset with her spotting. "Oh you are home so quickly, you must be hungry." Her mom mocked behind her.

She internally mourned, speaking without thinking, "I am, I had to go without breakfast because I borrowed a notebook from someone troublesome." She frankly confessed.

"Why is that? You weren't absent for at least a week." Her mother remarked, walking towards the counter to prepare her daughter's belated breakfast.

"Hmm. This person insisted on giving me their notes and also demanded I give them back in time."

"Sounds like someone troubled."

She chuckled, sounding in agreement.

"I don't want you staying with anyone with bad influence, you hear me? Teenagers and alike are pretty rowdy these days." Her mother said, keeping the filled plate beside her daughter.

"That's an understatement."

"Well, you know better than me, don't remain in a bad friend group if it isn't for you."

She nodded, finding nothing wrong with the elder's worries. Besides, she was correct.

Finishing her food, she takes off to her room. Still craving for something sweet, but she was exhausted, she didn't want to do anything but rest and sleep, no homework, no nothing, even if she got in trouble for it.

Laying down after changing her outfit, she browsed through her phone, accidentally opening and closing apps she wasn't supposed to. Insto was now her least preferable place to pass time after she found out her bully and classmates also had accounts she never recognized until currently.

The screen is abruptly altered and she suddenly rises, seeing the unknown caller ID yet again. She did not want to pick up.

Thwarted, she childishly frowns. Huffing before accepting the call.

"Hello." She mumbled.

"Shut up loopy, why aren't you replying to my messages? You ignoring me!?" She could visualize his temper flaring.

"What messages? I didn't get any." She acted pretentiously, recalling herself blacklisting him, right after she replied to his first texts.

"Oh, I get it. You are ignoring me." He softly declared, declining her answer by cutting off the connection.

Abandoning her in sharp silence.

Her first few epochs at school have been uneasy, tense, although the peace was addicting, it was far unnerving existing without any unpleasant response or jeers, she shouldn't feel remorseful but, somehow it resolves in her pitying him, not her. Was it emotional manipulation? Or was she tripping herself?

He was frowning her way whenever she feigned ignorance, it bothered him, during breaks he would near her only to push shoulders and dismiss her certainty. Whilst classes were going on, she observed him break a pencil from the corner of her eyes, they sat at a place where they both could catch a glimpse of each other, in the middle, a few seats further or less, she on the left, closer to the window and he on the right.

Throughout it all, her lower abdomen was aching, maiming in a horrendous way that meant something bloody.

Quickly she got up, everyone's attention focused on her, moving towards her stunned female teacher, slightly leaning forward and she whispered. "Can I use the bathroom, please?" She pleaded, staring at her with soliciting eyes.

Her teacher thankfully let her, she raced to the washroom, mentally thinking, wishing her menstruation hadn't started. Regardless, she enters the restroom, rushing into a stall and removing her undergarments. To see dark red spots, she groans, whimpering at the sight.

Did she even bring pads?

Quietly, straining an innate smile, she arrived at her classroom, walking to her seat with a lowered gaze, slowly and steadily settling down, involuntarily, internally, cringing. Following this class was lunch break, so she could survive this.

What little time was left in that duration, her eyes were blown wide, lips pressed tight, and her notoriety drifting off. Her complexion dimmed as sharp jolts of pain coursed through her guts, she swallowed her spit more times than she counted, hands on the desk, her index finger squeezing the other, legs kept close and on the edge of her seat. Just subtly grinned when her teacher looked at her weirdly.

Subsequently, prior to any students leaving, she bolted out and disappeared into the hallway. Her bully watching her.

Coming back, appearing so much brighter and soothed, she swiftly took her place, bringing her lunchbox out and prepared to eat her agony away. Chunking on a piece of fried chicken, cold but still good, she softly chews in the noisy classroom, opting to take another bite but stopped herself as someone bought an empty chair in front of her desk and made themselves comfortable.

"You look stupid." He said.

She just peered at him unbothered, putting her meal into her mouth and cutely munching, no more meeting his eyes.

He grimaced in disdain, pushing himself forward, the mental feet of the chair scratching against the floor. He smirked when she stared at him, pleased with grabbing her interest.

"Why aren't you replying to my messages?" He pressured. She shrugged carelessly, darting her eyes around her desk.

"Hmph." He groaned, continuing, "guess you still don't know how to be grateful." He mocked. She promptly got disturbed.

"Yeah, you could return my notebook." She said he threw her a glance, offering her a warning stare.

"If you weren't such a brat, I would." He laughed, maintaining eye contact.

"I'm not the one bullying myself."

"You sure you can just talk back to me? Because last time I checked, I still have your notes and I can destroy them." He challenged, she took the bait without a second thought.

"I'll just tell the teacher you did it." She threw back, carrying on, "I mean how much can they ignore? It wouldn't be the last time you'll do it."

Without any inclination, he shoved her lunch box off the table, spilling the contents on the dirty floor. Strengthening his nasty glare, shoes planted on the surface, eyebrows furrowed and back erect, ready to take a swing at her face if she dared to say another accusing word.

She held her breath, staring at his face, all her classmates noticed their commotion, slowly she looked down at her spilt food, her heart beating loudly in her chest.

"If you so much as to say a word to the teachers about me, I'll end you." He hissed, his voice ringing in the calm room.

She struggled to keep her voice low.

Throwing daggers as he stood up and receded without voicing any foul words, pushing past the confused students who gawked at the scene.



She had horrible cramps the next day.

She took a day of leave, swimming in her blankets, curled up inwards, squirming, curtains were drawn to a complete close, encasing her space in a gloomy glow, tranquil except the tone of the waft, a mildly sweet fragrance roaming in the air, occasional noises of vehicle, the indistinct tune of birds. The girl tossed her blanket, feeling too warm and sluggish. Her eyes were heavy, the lure of unimaginable dreams getting tougher to resist, limbs loosely plonked, hoping to surrender and sleep without a care in the world.

She was startled awake late evening, feebly wiping the drool and gingerly attempting to recollect her last thought, stretching her toes, rubbing her face, and picking her non-functioning self up. In her dreamy state, moving towards her phone to disconnect it from the charger.

The thing she saw first, were five missed calls.

She glanced at the clock, assuming what time she drifted off to sleep, however, the calls were recent, fiddling with her choices, she goes back to bed, to lazy around till tomorrow's doom, but, seems like whoever was calling her weren't so patient.

She received it, somewhat composing herself and activating her mind.

"Hello-"

"Why weren't you at school." His deep voice interrupted hers, she blinked, pushing her lips and pressing the device closer.

"I wasn't feeling well." she honestly answered, stiffly standing in front of her bed.

"Yeah right, like it didn't have to do with what happened yesterday, you told your parents, didn't you?" he senselessly points the finger at her, impeaching her.

"I don't understand what you are talking about, I've been very generous with you since we've met, I haven't gone around telling everyone your bad qualities." she angrily retorted, torso leaning forward, lips tightened, and pulled upwards. Disliking his way of accusing her.

"And you've been shamelessly passing messages over to me by others, you think you have the right to be angry at me?" she calmly explained, mildly pitching her tone up.

"You haven't even given me my-"

"SHUT UP!!" he abruptly yelled on the call, surprising her, biting her lips from saying anything more, she could, but she had to be mature with the immature.

They both didn't say anything. He was breathing heavily she noted.

"First you go ahead and block me, then you have the guts to ignore me like if I'm nothing! You really know how to get on my nerves!" His voice cracked, and he sounded uncharacteristically hurt. "You better unblock me and reply to my messages." he darkly threatened.

"Or else..." she goes still.

Both sat in absolute silence, she was feeling uneasy, repressing the immediate urge to sever their unneeded conversation. Because she didn't feel comfortable nor safe.

"Why didn't you come today," he asked again. She thought twice before opening her bitten lips.

"I... wasn't feeling too good." she tensely replied.

"Aren't you going to ask for my notes?" He sounded like he was giving her an order rather than a stretch of kindness. "N-no... I'm fine, thanks."

"You'll be coming tomorrow, won't you?"

She gulped, wide eyes staring at the calendar, softly responding.

"I'm not sure."

"You won't come tomorrow?" he shamed daze, unconvinced with her uncertainty, now delicately mocking her with a low hostile tone.

"If I'm okay tomorrow, I'll come." she firmly stated.

Even though no words were spoken, she could feel his displeasure.

"Tell me your address." he sternly spoke.

She anxiously considered her few options. Outright telling what he wanted, or being clever about it and cutting the call midway, but he would confront her the very next day.

However, her mom shouts her name and it ended up being the perfect opportunity to say their goodbyes. "Sorry, gotta go now."

She quickly pressed the screen, tacitly stopping the call. Dropping her device and slowly inhaling, thinking over their exchanged words, she feels as though her heart would burst out her ribcage, closing her eyes for a moment, she wobbles her way to her mother.

"There you are! You've been sleeping for long dear, do you want some medicine?"

She declined, mulling over to sit, behaving unusually. Not bound to go unseen by the elder.

"I think I need a new haircut."

It wasn't like she couldn't afford another leave, she could sit all day in her room without worrying what her bully was going to do, irritatingly so, he's turned to online communication when he can't torment her face to face, eye to eye, recycling a loop of misery, designed purely for her. He was going to force her to give him her home address, if he hadn't already made someone vomit it by violence, verbally or physically. 

She already knew what was in store for her, and dreaded it. 

She almost thought of returning midday with an acted performance of a minor stomach ache or anything she could pretend but realized would only be prolonging the inevitable.

She still didn't want to go.

Stiffly sauntering across the stress, unwillingly making her way to school, to remain a prisoner till the noon, steadily increasing her pace, she carried on, heart dreadfully pounding, releasing shallow exhales, her mind figuring all sorts of scenario to toil with, but still the intense urge to just trot back to her dwelling and not take a step out till she feels stable.

As she continued, she fell into disquieting notions. Soon ceased before her loathed destination.

Faking her smile upon catching a familiar face of her teacher, muttering a good morning, and a slight nod. Then resumed her sad walk to class.

She really wanted to turn back.

She didn't want to go.

She couldn't take it.

Impulsively, desperately, she sprinted through the hallway she'd just passed, pushing towards the entrance and booking it. She did not want to stay.

She kept running till she arrived in a remote area. Gasping heavily, gulping her spit to her scorched throat. Her heart still thumping as loudly as possible, the realization of terror sparked up, dread pooling in her stomach.

She had an arduous time breathing. Her chest was hurting, a keen burning sense rippling inside, she felt tears stream down her warm cheeks, she feels awful. She told her mother she'd go to school and not wander off to the city in a fit of distress, her teachers saw her, wouldn't they question and notice her disappearance? Perhaps even call her parents and let them worry.

Even if she did go back, what reason was she going to give? She came back because her stomach was hurting? Because she was scared? Because she didn't want to go.

Considering both truths and lies.

She'd need to calm down first.

TAGGED PEOPLE

@1zzielizzie @survivorofmath

If you wish to be tagged, let me know.

yandere!nagi x reader, kunigami x reader

summary: when your boyfriend moves to argentina, your leftover life is more bleak than you'd imagined. Nagi's willing to spice it up for you, but he's not about to let your opinion of him get in the way of his own pleasure.

a/n - extremely dub bordering on n0ncon, but nagi is genuinely into you. nagi has a super super strong dacry philia k/ink, like SO strong. he doms but lazily. both nagi and kunigami are genuinely into reader. post blue lock at least a few years. choking, vio lence, threats. manipulation. reader's parents were alcoholics and she's shy and timid, a bit of a pushover if you dont like that then skip it. part one probably. angst, hurt comfort, smut, reader has a panic attack and nagi comforts her so sweet. this is dark content, have an age in your bio to interact minors dni

Nagi remembers the moment he realized you didn’t like him. It’s not the kind of detail he normally notices, and it’s even rarer for something like that to bother him, and while it’s true that it takes the first three months of your contract with his pro team for him to pick up on it, once it’s there the truth is undeniable. Glaring. 

It annoys him, honestly, to watch you stammer your way through an earnest conversation with a fucking benchwarmer like Raichi, and then give Nagi short answers that ensure the conversation doesn’t last longer than it needs to. With him, you’re professional, that’s it. But Barou gets to hear about your weekend, hears you sigh about the plant you just bought, and you’ll even argue with him about the merits of scented cleaning products. It grates on him when it feels compulsory that you scurry over to him during the scrimmage break. 

“Is your ankle okay?” You ask quietly, not drawing the attention of any of the assistant coaches or other players. Maybe this is why it bothered him, you were good, good at your job, good at whatever bullshit ology made you good at reading body movements, predicting mood and injury. You also know that any theatrics about a possible injury could get him benched, that he’d spent the last year jockeying with Barou for the top spot on the team, and a single missed game would be devastating to that goal. 

“Hurts a little.” He says, not bothering to look at you. “Not enough though.” You understand immediately. “Can I find you, after?” You look up at him, surprised. He didn’t seek you out often, and you had plenty of needy visitors, inquiring about gameplay, old injuries, and new ones. You nod noncomittally, confirming his little insecurity, going back to stand behind Barou and one of the defenders. The dark-haired forward turns around and says something to you that makes you laugh nervously. Nagi steams. 

He stares out across the pitch for a moment, ignoring the conversation you’re pulled between, one of the defenders snarls at a midfielder, you try to sidestep but immediately you’re called in as a subject matter expert on the play, on their movements, and he’s not looking or caring as you shrink from the huge men. One of the coaches steps in, practically knocking you out of the line of fire, telling them both to fucking walk it off and play better. 

Your hands tremble, so you shove them in your pockets. It’s not too cold on the indoor pitch, but you hate it, hate being yelled at, hate how they’re so eager to touch you, grabbing your arm and dragging you into the argument. You hate how you feel like you’re the only woman for a square mile, even though in your heart you know there’s someone at the reception desk. Even the other experts the team had hired were men, doctors, and professors of game theory. Your contract was up in two months, you reminded yourself, of course, this would be different without him. 

___

“This is your dream,”  you’d told him, hand still swallows in his. He hums softly, nodding. “I won’t um, if you’re gonna say you shouldn’t go because of me, I’ll tell you off.” Kunigami Rensuke raises a single eyebrow. 

“You, you’re gonna tell me off?” He grins. “I don’t think so.” 

“I will.” You say firmly, rocking up onto your tiptoes. He sighs. The two of you are standing on a little bridge in a suburb of Tokyo, the sun setting brilliantly in front of you, painting everything gold. 

“No I’m uh,” he swallows. “I’m going. For sure. To Argentina.” The lump rises in your throat. “And I know you can’t come with me, so don’t bother. You just started your career here. You literally only moved to Japan a year ago.” You nod, pressing your lips together, and he lets go of your hand, slipping an arm around your waist, and tugging you into his body. 

“When do you leave?” You whisper, with all the breath you can muster. 

“Two weeks.” He confirms, and the tears in your eyes spill over. “C’mere.” He grunts, as if you’re not already inhumanely close, he wraps his arms around you. “A girl like you, I’m sure you’ll have another pro-athlete boyfriend in a matter of hours.” His attempt at humor falls flat, betrayed by the pain in his own voice, the idea of you with anyone else tears at him. You don’t laugh at the joke. 

“Don’t you remember I broke my rule for you?” You say, and he looks down at you as the memory surfaces. 

“Ah, yeah,” he surreptitiously wipes his own eye. “Yeah.” He manages a smile with enormous effort. “Not sure I wanna see you with any of those assholes anyway.” He shakes his head. “Who the fuck am I kidding, I’m gonna have to fight the urge to throttle anyone who touches you.” That does pull a laugh from your lips. “They better behave, on the new team, when they rotate you. If they don’t you can call me.” 

“I’m sure it’ll be fine.” You wrap your arms around him, settling against his chest. “Let’s just think about right now.” 

“Okay.” He breathes. “Okay.” 

____

For the thousandth time this week, you miss Kunigami. You hadn’t realized how much his hovering presence forced his teammates to behave, to be polite, to not yell back in your face when you gently suggested a change in form. Your hands shake a little harder and you feel your heart race in your chest, barely managing to stave off the panic until the scrimmage ends, and the men thunder to back to their locker room. You were already dying for this contract to end, refusing to quit but lining jobs that would place you squarely back in academia. 

It felt like a failure. It felt like an admission of failure, that everything everyone had ever told you was true. Your legs carry you off the field, and down the hallway, but you don’t make it to your office before you start to cry, pressing yourself against the painted cinderblock wall, pressing your hand over your mouth to quiet the sobs. 

Nagi takes a couple of extra minutes to stretch, trying to reason with himself. What did it matter if you didn’t like him? Why was he even thinking about it, why was it interesting to him what you did, what you thought? He pushes to his feet and stalks off towards the door, wanting to refill his water bottle rather than heading straight to the locker room. He’s standing at the end of the hallway when he hears it, a soft, choked sob. He’s immediately hit with a wave of annoyance, followed by something else. 

He’d reasoned with it. Rationalized it. Even considered bringing it up to the expensive sports therapist that the blue lock participants had been given upon their release from the competitive program a few years ago. All the blood starts to rush below his waist. Some people had weirder things, he reminds himself, and it’s not that his dacryphilia bothered him, it’s that it was inconvenient. Hard to find in porn, even harder to find in a partner, but there was something about the softness and vulnerability of that moment, the way a woman’s lower lip would tremble, the way her face would swell slightly, and the big round tears that would fall from her eyes. Even better if she’d melt into him, let him touch her. He groans, barely keeping the sound inaudible. Everyone had their things. This was just annoying. Inconvenient. He wanted to shower, his body still sweat-slicked from the practice game, his muscles aching, but he’s got a problem now. And the problem is that you’re crying quietly down the hallway and even the sound of it is driving him to insanity. He could try, so what if you didn’t like him, he could try, women loved to be comforted-

“-Oh god,” you breathe, the air hitching in your lungs. “Oh my god, fuck.” You sob for real, the tears flowing freely. You cover your face with your hands, the abject sorrow breaking over you like an ocean wave. Your phone burns in your pocket. You could call him. He’d said you could call him. 

But he hadn’t called. Not since you dropped him off at the airport. Just a text that he’d landed okay, and he hopes you have a good day. Nothing. Complete radio silence. But you could-

Nagi steps around the corner and clears his throat. 

“Oh fuck,” you swear, flattening yourself against the wall. “Please don’t-” He takes a step towards you, no concern readable on his face. 

“What?” He asks, gesturing to all of you. You sniff loudly, wiping your face, sure you won’t be able to hide this from him but trying anyway. 

“Nothing, nothing it’s fine.” You start down the hallway and Nagi closes the distance between you with superhuman speed, taking your arm in one of his massive hands, and stopping you. 

“You’re crying.” He says, “It’s not nothing.” He watches you force an inhale, your lower lip trembling. 

“I just um, it’s hard,” you swallow, “I don’t like to be yelled at.” He nods slowly. “And um,” you wipe your face, “Sorry I just, just break up stuff it’s really not your problem.” He hasn’t released your arm, and he can feel your pulse racing under your skin. 

“Don’t be stupid.” He says, yanking you into his chest, knowing he’s sweaty and gross from practice and not caring. He wraps his arms around you anyway and feels you relax against him. He wonders if you can feel how hard he is and decides he doesn’t care as another little hiccuping sob bubbles out of your mouth, he can feel the vibrations in his chest. “Shhhh,” he breathes, comforting you like you’re an agitated animal. “You really don’t like it when they yell, huh?” You nod. He sighs. “They’re not gonna stop.” 

“I know.” You pull away from him and he almost doesn’t let you do it, he’s so strong, so much stronger than  you, he could- “My rotation’s over in a few months and I’ll do something else.” He balks at that. 

“Why would you do that?” He demands. “You’re good at this.” 

“I’m um,” the lump in your throat goes painful and new tears start to burn in your eyes. “I’m miserable Nagi, I’m so fucking miserable. All you all do is yell at each other, you and Barou spend every game at each other's throats, and all the other players snap at me even when I’m being helpful,” you take a shaky breath, “And, and I’m heartbroken and pathetic all the time, when I get home I’m so tired the only thing I have the energy to do is lie down.” You hide your face again. “You’re all so fucking entitled I don’t, I don’t wanna work with any of you ever again.” You shake your head and he realizes, that the last sentence isn’t a generalization. It’s about him. 

“You don’t like me because you think I’m entitled.” He repeats. 

“You are,” you wipe your face again and try to step away from him, but he immediately closes the distance between you. Your back hits the wall of the hallway. “You’re a trust fund private school kid who was born with a natural athletic gift that took you to the upper echelon of the sport without great effort, someone else had to drag you kicking and screaming into it. If you’re not fucking entertained by the team you’re playing you can only give it half your effort, you seem physically incapable of giving a shit about something.” You shake your head. “I,” you look up at him, and his eyes are dark and cold as he considers. “It’s fine, I’ll finish my rotation and leave.” You take another breath and wipe your face, trying to leave for a third time, and for a third time, he stops you, this time taking you roughly by the arm and pulling you back towards him, then pushing you back against the wall. 

“I seem,” he repeats, “I seem physically incapable of giving a shit, huh?” 

“Nagi,” he hears the fear creeping into your voice. “Come on, just let me-” He shakes his head, noting that the gesture alone is enough to stop you midsentence. He thinks about it for a moment and shakes his head again. 

“Lazy,” he mutters, “Entitled, shit,” he laughs but there’s no joy to the sound. “Yeah, I could see how you’d feel that way. But you’re not crying because you don’t like us.” Your eyes widen a little. “You’re upset because you don’t like it when big men raise their voice to you, huh,” he says, and he takes a half step forward, he’s uncomfortably in your space now. “Don’t like it when we snap back when we yell, betcha it doesn’t even matter if it’s not directed atcha?” You swallow. “That’s what I thought.” His eyes darken. “How many times have you cried on the bus home, on the train, because of us?” You look away. He reaches for you with the hand that isn’t pinning you to the wall, and you flinch when it touches your face. He ignores it, cupping your cheek and wiping at a tear. You swallow again, heart pounding. 

“Nagi, come on I have to go.” You glance down the hallway but know no one is coming, that no one can hear you, and that your office is the only one in this part of the building. He withdraws his hand and brings his fingers to his lips, sucking it gently for a second, and then he cocks his head. 

“No.” He says. “I don’t think you do.” You tug at the arm he’s holding in earnest, and he barely registers it. 

“I am not working right now,” you yank hard to no avail, “I’m sorry I’m not one of your fucking fangirls,” the fear in your blood makes you brave, singing a quiet steady song, “Let me go-” 

“Shut the fuck up,” he snarls, in a tone of voice you’ve never heard before, and his hand flies to your throat so fast you’re not sure you even see it move. He tightens his grip, holding you against the wall. “You think I give a shit about any of them,” he leans in close to you, as you start to gasp for breath, pulling at his hand and gurgling. “You’re the first woman I’ve ever met who could be fucking useful,” he spits the words, “And so it doesn’t matter if you don’t like me right now.” He relaxes his grip just enough for you to draw breath as more tears spill over your cheeks. He can’t stop himself, leaning in and kissing them off of you, groaning lightly. “I’ll make you a deal,” he breathes in your ear, causing blood to pool in your cheeks. “You be a good girl for me, and I’ll make them stop. I can make them behave.” You freeze and stop fighting. He relaxes his grip even more, letting you fall to the ground, watching you sputter and gasp, hands flying to your neck, rubbing the raw skin. He watches you, curled at his feet for a beat before squatting down, and patting your head affectionately. 

“You wanna try again, wanna try liking me again?” He asks, softly, knowing the answer. You nod, crying in earnest now. “You don’t wanna go home to your empty apartment.” He says, and it’s not a question. “Come home with me.” You sniff loudly. “You know which car is mine?” You shake your head. “It’s the silver Aston Martin.” He stands. “I’ll unlock it remotely. You get your shit, sit in the front seat and wait for me. Can you handle that?” You nod. He reaches a hand down to you and pulls you to your feet. “Did I scare you?” He says quietly, and you nod again. “Aw,” he cradles you against his chest, he smells like sweat and musk. “M’sorry. It’s hard to piss me off, you oughta be proud of yourself.” 

“I don’t wanna be alone tonight.” You whisper, and he rubs your back. “But don’t do that again, okay?” He shrugs but verbally contradicts the gesture. 

“Yeah, alright.” He hugs you tightly, pressing his face into your neck. “Bring something to wrap my ankle with.” He leaves then, jogging off down the hallway to the showers. You stand there for a few minutes, throat aching, shell-shocked. You float back to your office, taking your back and making your way to the garage with the cars. You find the silver one and at your touch, it unlocks, you sit heavily in the front seat, attempting to take a deep breath. You do something without thinking about it. 

You: hi sorry

You close your eyes, what time was it even in Argentina, would he even look at it? How much would it hurt if he never-

Kunigami: hey what’s with the apology You: I don’t know 

Kunigami: everything okay? I’m on my way to practice, it’s 5AM here. I can call? You: no it’s okay I dont wanna take up too much of your time

You: just wanted to see how you were doing 

Kunigami: yeah alright honestly Kunigami: miss japan, miss you, but the food here kicks ass you’d love it. Kunigami: dream job helps though. I think it’ll be an amazing season. 

You: oh wow!! That’s great to hear Kunigami: what about you, they treating you okay? 

You: ahhhhh

You: it’s probably a lot to text 

Kunigami: so let’s call this weekend and catch up. Plus I think I fucked up my shoulder, you can bill me for the time spent on the phone. Kunigami: stupid question but it’s gonna kill me if I don’t ask Kunigami: have you been dating You: oh god no 

You: I don’t care if that’s embarrassing. Kunigami: thank fucking god it’s been killing me Kunigami: picturing you with anyone else makes me want to put a fist through the wall

You sigh, hands shaking now with relief. 

You: same except it’s throwing myself in the ocean 

Kunigami: this is so fucking hard 

You: yeah

You: Dream job helps though, right? 

Kunigami: sure 

Kunigami: your job still dreamy? 

You: not without you, no. 

Kunigami: listen I’m almost at work, let’s talk this weekend. I missed the fuck out of you. 

You: okay <3 

You steel yourself, taking a deep breath and closing your eyes, leaning against the back of the seat in Nagi’s car. He’s another 15 minutes, sliding into the seat with practice, barely reacting to your presence. He presses a button and the engine hums to life, his hair is half-dried, and little tendrils of white cling to his forehead and clump together in his waves. He glances at your phone. 

“Miss your ex?” He says, and you scramble to lock the phone and hide the conversation. He laughs. “Did he used to keep the assholes in line for you?” He asks and you sniff loudly, closing your eyes and leaning against the car seat. 

“I can’t believe you choked me like that.” You mumble, and he shrugs, skillfully backing out of his parking spot and pulling through the garage. 

“You needed it.” 

“I didn’t!” You protest. “I didn’t and you scared me.” That makes him break into a soft smile, as he leaves the private garage it starts to rain. He reaches over and rests a hand on your thigh, rubbing a soft circle in your skin through your tights. 

“Better do everything I say so that I don’t have to scare you again, then, yeah?” He says, and you press your lips together. “Plus,” He shrugs, squeezing your thigh. “You know what’ll happen if you don’t.” You look at him sharply. “Oh,” He says, surprised, “You don’t?” He puts his hand back on the wheel. “I’ll make it worse so that you have to come crying to me.” He shrugs off your shock.  “What?” 

“Really?” You say, turning to him, and the sincerity in your voice knocks the air from his lungs. He’s able to recover in time. 

“Nah, I mean, I could but you’re not gonna make me, right?” He glances to the left and right before carefully making his turn. He puts his hand back on your thigh. “Come on,” he complains, “I’m a good guy, I’m gonna make you feel good, and save you the trouble of drinking alone in your apartment missing a guy who probably isn’t thinking about you.” Your chest aches and you scoot away from him. “Don’t be like that,” he complains, tightening his grip on your thigh, “Come here, like,” he pulls up to a light, and while you wait he arranges you carefully so that you’re leaning against his arm. “Like that.” He says. “See?”

“Mm.” You say softly, so tired from crying, your throat aching, the endless string of bad days has worn you down. You take his huge hand, and he softens. 

“I’m sorry it’s been so hard.” He says quietly. “Did something happen to you, like when you were a kid, dad raise his voice to you too much?” 

“My parents were alcoholics.” You whisper, pressing your face against his warm muscle. “Big tempers on both of them.” He hums softly. 

“You didn’t deserve that.” He rubs the softness of your thigh, delighting in the way you’ve crumbled in front of him. “By the way, I’m uh,” you detect the first traces of vulnerability in his tone. “A little worried about my ankle.” 

“Is that why you lost your temper with me?” You ask, voice barely above the hum of his air conditioner. Summer in Japan is disgusting, humid, and wet, and the rain picks up, hitting his windshield heavily. He shakes his head. 

“I just didn’t want you to go.” 

“And you’re used to getting what you want.” You finish the sentence. He shrugs the apparent insult washing off his back like soap in the shower. 

“I’m gonna make you say you like me,” He turns to you, a smile on his face that you recognize from the soccer pitch. “I’m gonna make you say you respect me,” that makes you laugh, “And I’m gonna make you say you think I’m hardworking,” you giggle, and the sound catches him off guard, “Plus I could tell you’re used to being handled roughly. You dated Kunigami, that guys got some anger issues for sure.” You shake your head. 

“I’m not discussing him with you.” You scoot a bit away from him. 

“Yeah,” Nagi artfully makes a left turn across a multiple-lane street with one hand, watching you watching him. “You think the way I drive is sexy.” 

“I don’t-” 

“You do,” He shrugs, “It’s okay to not like me but still think I’m hot.” He squeezes your thigh. “You’re gonna like me really soon, anyway so it’s not super relevant.” He frowns. “Go back to holding my arm, I like that shit.” You reluctantly cuddle up to him again. “Ankle first though.” He says. “Then I’m gonna make you say all that shit. And you’re staying over.”

“Am I?” You say, and he nods without looking at you. 

“Not like if I decide you’re staying you can leave.” He says, like it’s the most ludicrous 

thing he’s ever heard.   “What are you gonna do?” He rolls his eyes. “Outrun me?” Your hands shake a little and he reaches for them, taking both of them in his hand, releasing your thigh. “Don’t freak out, I’m a good guy. I’ll take good care of you. Betcha Kunigami would like that.” You shudder. 

“He wasn’t big on sharing.” 

“Mm, I’m not either.” He says evenly. “But I’ll earn that, don’t worry. When I’m through

with you, you won’t wanna fuck anyone else. That ginger asshole included.” He pulls up in front of an apartment building and catches the pained look on your face. “Aw, baby’s really heartbroken, huh? Sit tight.” He gets up and walks around the car, opening your door and helping you to your feet. “You look pretty.” He says, opening the door to his apartment building for you. He means it, something about the way you were just a little undone, just a little on edge, endeared you all the more to him. He whisks you up an elevator, watching you avoid eye contact with your reflection in the walls of mirrors. “Whatcha thinking?” He says lowly. 

“I’m trying to decide if you gave me a choice in coming home with you.” You look up at him, and the conflict on your face is genuine. 

“If you’d resisted I guess I would have had to find a way to make you,” he yawns, “But I don’t think it would have been unpleasant for you,” he shrugs, “You don’t date a guy like Kunigami because you’re uncomfortable being roughed around a little” 

“Does it bother you?” You blurt, realizing this is the third time he’s brought up your ex boyfriend. “That I dated him, and I don’t,” you catch yourself, “Didn’t like you.” He snorts at your obvious attempt to cover up the sentiment. 

“First of all, you do like me, you like me a lot, you’re gonna fix up my ankle and then I’m gonna hear you tell me how much you like me over, and over,” the elevator dings and he takes your hand, leading you into a hallway with only two doors, one on each side of it. He takes you down to the one labeled Penthouse A, and it’s hard to contain your reaction when he swings the door open. It’s beautiful, huge, and open concept with a wall of windows, a gigantic slab of marble that makes up the table, and the cabinets are black and gleaming. He grins at your reaction, slipping out of his shoes, and patting your head. “This is why you date first string, dummy.” He hits you lightly on the back of the head before collapsing on the plush leather couch, putting his foot up on his dark wood coffee table. It’s a huge tree stump covered in the varnish that only serves to highlight its natural imperfections in it. It’s a little uneven, and the stack of books on it looks purely decorative and untouched. “Get to work.” He says, and you nod, striding over and kneeling next to him, an action that makes him sit up just a little straighter. You take his foot in two hands, peeling his sock off. 

“It hurt while you were running?” You ask, and he nods. 

“Like a bruise. Soft pain rather than sharp. I can’t believe you noticed I was favoring it.” You nod, giving him a little smile as you press gently, looking for the tendon that was the usual culprit of these kinds of pains. “I was trying to hide it.” 

“I’m an excellent study of movement as well as character,” you straighten your shoulders. “I didn’t see you favor it, I saw you lead with it, which is not really your modus Operandi.” He rolls his eyes. 

“I took Latin, ya know.” 

“Ah yes I’m sure your fancy private school had Latin,” you press softly on his foot, grateful it doesn’t smell like the locker room, “French, Italian-” 

“And English.” He says, a smug smile on his face. “I’ve read Shakespeare.” He leans back. “Some poetry.” 

“Oh,” you look up, “Some poetry huh?” He grins even wider. “Bet that makes the girls swoon.” 

“It does.” He confirms, “What’s up with the ankle though?” 

“You have to rest it, it’s a repetitive stress injury.” You say, and he groans loudly. “If,” you hold up a finger, “If you rest it this weekend you can go to practice on Monday like nothing happened.” He breathes out a sigh of relief. 

“Wrap it for me.” He demands. “Then get up here.” You take your time, ensuring that the bandage isn’t too tight, and he sighs when you tuck it in. You climb up onto the couch next to him, and he wraps a huge arm around you, pulling you against his chest. He hums softly. “Actually,” he lifts you by the waist and settles you in his lap, so that you’re straddling him and facing him. He reaches for a throw blanket and tucks it around the two of you, then frowns. 

“What?” You ask. 

“You’re wearing too much.” He yawns. “We’re gonna nap, so go get one of my t-shirts.” He points down the hallway. You hesitate, and his eyes darken. “I don’t wanna have to make you,” he complains, shoving you off of him and standing. “Now you’ve gotta wear one of my jerseys.” 

“Nagi,” you start, and he waves away your words, lumbering down the hallway and returning a few minutes later with one of his extra game jerseys. 

“Is your skin gonna burn,” he says, shoving it at you good-naturedly. If you hadn’t essentially been kidnapped it would almost be cute. “Go change in the bathroom, I’ll see you naked soon enough, I know you’re not ready and I,” he yawns again, “Don’t feel like arguing.” You nod and disappear into his bathroom. It’s just as enormous as the rest of the apartment, even though it’s a guest bath, there’s a full tub and a beautiful sink with lots of counter space. You open his cabinets, generally snooping, finding some generic stale-dated antibiotics and an uncomplex skincare routine. You change quickly, swimming in his jersey when you step back out into the living room. He flicks his chin, some of his hair flopping out his face to look at you. “C’mere,” he grunts, and you obey, letting him fold his huge warm body around yours, “This is my favorite thing.” He sighs, locking his arms around your body, trapping one of your thighs between his. He spoons you, but only after ensuring you’re both covered by the blanket. 

“Hey,” He says quietly. “You’re still shaking a little.” He feels you nod, your face resting on his arm, your back pressed right against his chest. “Not cause you’re cold?” You shake your head. “You hate it when we yell that much?” 

“You don’t yell.” You say quietly. 

“And you still didn’t like me.” He tightens his grip on your waist. “You gotta know I could kick any of their asses.” He grumbles. “And that you’re safe here, right now.” You hesitate but in mind only, nodding outwardly. He kisses the top of your head. “Relax then.” He says, and you close your eyes, nuzzling into him. You’re not sure when you fall asleep, a few minutes before him, but when you wake your face is pressed to his chest, and he’s got one hand in your hair and the other around your waist. You’re warm, and deeply at peace, feeling loved and held for the first time since Kunigami left. He hums needily when you move, holding you in place. “You’re so soft.” He mumbles, and you see a slight flush on his cheeks from how you’re sleeping. He turns you away from him again, reaching under your shirt and palming your chest through your bra. You let out a soft sigh and he presses his cock against your ass with a groan. 

“Nagi,” you breathe, fuck it, fuck it, this was stupid, he was a dick, but he was here, and if he was here you didn’t have to think about work, about Kunigami, about- he cuts off your train of thought by reaching under your bra and pressing a burning kiss to your neck. 

“Like that,” he mumbles, lips moving up the column of your throat, “Sound so desperate when you say my name.” He reaches between your legs, into your panties, “Say it again.” He parts your folds and easily finds your clit, rubbing at it softly. 

“Nagi,” You breathe again, his free hand coming to rest on your throat. “Nagi, I-” He tightens his grip, cutting off your breath completely. You squirm, eyes watering at the pressure, and the mounting pleasure in your body. 

“Desperate,” he grunts, “How bad do you fucking want it?” You gasp, he doesn’t let you have enough air to breathe to respond. “So stupid already,” he tightens his grip and then you feel him push two fingers inside you, “Soaked. Thought you hated me?” You make some kind of noncommittal gurgle and he gives you a break, letting you suck in a sharp quick breath before the pressure returns. He fucks you with his fingers first, scissoring them and watching you gasp and squirm, but when tears prick at your eyes he groans, yanking you roughly underneath him. He tosses his shirt off and pulls his cock from his grey sweatpants. It’s long and thick, matching his sculpted frame, and the tip is a soft pink, leaking a little as he pumps it, running his thumb sover the tip. 

He lets out a short huffy breath as he eases inside you, cupping your teary face with one hand, bracing his weight with the other. Your legs are tossed over his shoulder, and when he leans down to kiss you with surprising tenderness. He watches your eyes shoot open at the stretch, your lips part as he starts to fuck you, leaving you so empty when he withdraws, that you dig your nails into his muscles back. 

He moves slowly, rolling his hips against yours, fucking you lazily, teasing your clit with his hand, bending down to suck and bite at your nipples, delighting in your glassy faraway expression, and he’s almost surprised when you cum, when you clench down on him, walls fluttering. 

“Next time,” he says, growling into your ear. “Ask me. I’ll tell you if you’ve earned that shit.” You whimper in response, you’re soaking, and he can feel it, can feel how badly you need it, can feel the way your nails are digging into his back, can feel you kiss him back when he leans down. “Tell me you like me,” he murmurs, and you squirm. “Tell me how much you like me.” 

__

He leans down and kisses you, blissfully exhausted, draping his body over yours. His hands move to tangle in your hair and his arms lock around you. You sense that he’s about to drift off to sleep, so you start to squirm. 

“What?” He mutters. “Stay still.” 

“I have to pee.” You whisper, and he groans, reluctantly letting you stand on trembling legs and walk to his bathroom. You splash some cold water on your face after washing your hands. You look at your reflection, disheveled, eyes wild, hands shaking. You run your fingers through your hair, the entire experience had been deeply disorienting, did Nagi expect you to come back and cuddle with him? After that, after choking you like that? Your mind flies again to your ex-boyfriend, and then you swallow, feeling the dull pain in your throat. Nagi would let you leave, you decided. As long as he let you leave, that means you had a choice, that means you could think of this as a mistake, as a weak moment. You swallow, taking a deep breath and closing your eyes, pressing your palms to the counter, it’s cool and grounding. You straighten your shoulders and step back out into his luxe apartment, sighing with relief when you hear Nagi’s soft snores, see his huge frame draped over the couch. 

You tiptoe past him, stepping back into your clothes gingerly, feeling more and more like this is something you could rationalize. You’re halfway dressed when he opens half an eye, frowning. 

“What are you doing?” He says, glancing at the coffee table where you’ve folded his jersey. 

“Ah, just heading out.” You say, heart rate picking up a little. He raises his eyebrows, standing and stepping back into his boxers. 

“Nah,” He towers over you, it’s impossible not to note the difference in your size, even when he’s a few feet away. “Stay,” He reaches for you, pulling you back into him by the waist. “I’ll order us takeout.” You pull gently but he doesn’t let you go. 

“Nagi,” you say softly, coming back to honesty. “I feel a little weird, about this.” He cocks his head. “Like, weird about us hooking up.” 

“Oh,” He says, as he understands immediately, “Oh,” he runs his fingers through his hair, “Oh of course, of course, you do.” You blink a few times, stunned at his sudden burst of self-awareness. He gives you a soft, genuine smile, “I didn’t mean to like, make you feel used or weird,” he leans down, cupping your face with his hand, stroking your cheek, and your heart drops to your stomach. “It’s not just a hookup to me, don’t worry.” He presses his lips to your forehead. “I get it, you’re a relationship person. I’ll take you to dinner, just nowhere too loud because-” 

“N-nagi,” You stammer his name, genuinely pulling away from him, and he lets you go, confusion flooding his features again. “It’s not that I feel used,” you say, embarrassed as you lose your cool, your voice rising in pitch. “It’s, it’s that you pinned me to the wall by my throat and then, then told me to get in your car and I did, and then we had sex, and I don’t,” you start to get dizzy, the panic pulling you from reality. “Nagi, I, I don’t feel good.” You draw in a shaky breath, suddenly you’re freezing and burning at the same time, face hot body cold, and then they switch. 

“You’re having a panic attack,” you hear him say, but it sounds like his voice is miles above the surface of your mind. You try to swallow, and try to breathe, and find neither is a reflex you have control over, tears burning in your eyes. You barely feel him pick you up, laying you on the couch and lifting your legs in the air, rubbing a soft circle in your calf. “I’m here,” He says, and there’s a raw desperation in his voice as he feels his cock twitch in his pants, but there’s more too it. He feels it, that clawing ache, he wants you to reach for him, to be comforted by him, “I’m here,” he wants to be enough for you, to restore your breath, even though he’s the one with the power to take it away. “I’m here, and I’m real, I’m here for you.”

His voice carries in your panicked state, and your brain struggles to interpret the sentiment behind that information, a statement of a fact, or threat, or reassurance. It takes a few minutes of gasping, but your body, something physical latches onto his presence because when you sit up you reach for him. Something brittle inside Nagi breaks as your little hands fly out and reach for his, as he pulls you into his lap, kissing at your tears. 

“Tough day,” he murmurs, “Lots of yelling, right?” You nod, and he squeezes you. “I’m here, you’re mine now, I’ll take care of ya.” You shiver at his words. 

“I don’t,” you look up at him, “I’m not ready to date really.” Your teeth are chattering, you’re still visibly trembling. He rolls his eyes at you. “I’m s-serious, you have to let me leave.” 

“I mean,” Nagi shrugs. “No I don’t actually, I don’t have to let you leave, and actually,” his grip on you tightens. “You like me, remember?” 

“No-,” you squirm, still half crying. “No I don’t.” 

“Shhhhh,” he rocks you back and forth, “You’re so cute, but you have to breathe okay, just focus on breathing for a little and don’t think so much,” he kisses your head, “Shhhh.” You sniff and focus on breathing. “That’s my girl.” He tips your head up so that you can meet his grey gaze. “So we’re gonna clean you up, I’m gonna order us food from somewhere nice, I’ll take ya out tomorrow, we can go anywhere you want.” He senses your hesitation and leans down, kissing you tenderly on your trembling lips. “C’mon,” you hear him say, speaking right into your mouth, “Kiss me back.” At the moment, you obey, and he hums softly, feeling you move your mouth against his, concocting some kind of pseudo rhythm that your body keeps to much better than your mind does. “I’m here,” he murmurs, kissing down your neck, “I’ll keep ya safe,” he starts to tug your blouse off, and feels you stiffen. “You wanna stop?” He pulls away from you, and you shake your head a little, getting whiplash from the way he suddenly respects your consent. He holds you again. “Okay,” he breathes, “Just breathe for me, I’ll uh,” he laughs, “You did already make me cum, but fuck, seeing you like this, I could go again. You wrap your arms around his neck, making a decision. 

It was nice, nice to be held, and if he would make things easier for you at work, you could figure this out. You could ride whatever this was out until the end of your rotation and then bury yourself in another job. He cradles you to him until your heart rate calms. 

“Jeez,” He laughs lightly, standing while still carrying you in your state of half-dress, walking into the kitchen. He sets you on the counter. “Guess I gotta be careful with you, yeah?” He squeezes your waist before pulling back and wetting a paper towel under warm water. “You want a safe place to land,” he says softly, “That’s okay,” he starts to wipe your face with the warm towel. “We’ll use a safeword, alright?” You swallow. “You just say yellow, if you want me to slow down,” he takes his time wiping your smudged mascara. “You say red if you want me to stop, alright, and I’ll stop,” he pulls away, setting the paper towel on the counter. “And if you really wanna go, you can go, I guess.” 

“You guess?” You whisper. He shrugs. 

“You’re not gonna be the first woman who doesn’t want it from me,” He makes a face, “Not when I can tell how bad you want it.” 

“I didn’t-” 

“I don’t care.” He informs you. “I like you.  You admitted you like me.” You swallow. “Come on,” he mumbles, kissing you softly, and then pulling away, pressing his forehead to yours. “I’ve liked you forever. I’ll be nice, I will be.” You nod and he hugs you tightly. “You okay?” He asks and you shiver. 

“No.” You whisper. He nods. 

“Will sitting on the couch with me holding you help, maybe?” He asks, and your chest aches, your heart aches, your throat aches, you’re hurt, and your tired. You nod dumbly. You could do this. Could take advantage of this. Just till your rotation with his team was over. You could make the best of this. He plucks you off the counter and carries you to the couch, letting you cry softly on his chest until you fall asleep. He tangles his fingers in your hair. 

“All mine,” he hums. “All mine.” Your jaw tightens, and you think of the real owner of your heart, at this hour he'd he hard at work at the gym, stretching carefully, talking to his teammates. "Shh," Nagi breathes as he feels you tense up, "Shhhhhh. Relax."

pairing. nakahara chuuya x fem puppy girl reader

synopsis. struggling with your sense of humanity and prone to losing to higher instinct, you and chuuya share more than one'd think. though he's never thought of himself as fit for an owner or a partner, that fateful night chuuya becomes both.

current wc: 7.3k

warnings. nsfw (parts 3 & 4). minors & ageless blogs do not interact. mentions of past trauma, abuse & canon typical themes, not too dark/angsty though i promise!, hybrids & appropriate pet names/vocabulary, collaring, reader goes into heat, slight dom/sub themes, switch!chuuya, more tba! please mind individual chapter tags & warnings ❥

notes. eeee first proper bsd fic!! i'm so very excited :3 i'm still getting a hang of my characterization of chuuya but i adore the boy too much. . . also happens to be my first hybrid fic on here so i hope you enjoy the ride <3

୨ৎ CHAPTER LIST.

part one. fall back into place. wc: 3.9k

part two. i bet on losing dogs. wc: 3.4k

part three. talk to me like lovers do.

part four. here comes the rain again.

© 2024 fedyenkas. do not copy any writing or layouts; do not repost/mention my works on other social media.

amazing writing!!!! <3

Important — Matsukawa Issei

No harm in asking a simple question. He asked three, to be exact. Couldn’t hurt so, why were you running?

warnings: stalking, harassment, creep!Mattsun, mentions of trauma

note: I wrote this with mattsun in mind, but could actually be anyone

THIS BLOG CONTAINS AND INTERACTS WITH DARK CONTENT. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT // 18+ ONLY

He thought you looked cute. All frolicky and giddy in your little skirt, thighs soft and plump as your high socks hugged them tight making them spill out a little.

He watched you as you said goodbye to your friends, waited for them to go, leaving you all by yourself at this hour when the sun’s already gone down and the streets are less busied.

That’s when he thought to ask for directions. Asking for your name afterwards was just… small talk. Sure he knew which way to go even before he had asked you but he couldn’t help it, he just wanted you to become aware of his existence. His face. His voice. Him.

“Where are you headed?” he asked you, and he asked you again when you started to back away, his voice deep and breathy, eyes fixated on yours as you came up with your little excuses on how you’re waiting for a friend, or actually, it’s getting late and you should just get home.

Which one was it? Lie better, little girl.

But it’s not like he’s never heard any of that before.

He let you leave, or rather, he gave you a headstart, letting you reach a ‘safer’ distance from him as he watched your back. You picked up the pace, but the both of you were dangerously in sync, and you turned around only to find that he’s still there—you haven’t lost him.

You’ve earned yourself a shadow.

That’s when you started running. If only you could see the look of horror in your face. Not only were you aware of him, now you also knew of his stamina.

Though he meant no harm, still, you ran. He wasn’t gonna do anything. He wasn’t gonna hurt you. He just wanted to be important to you.

Important. That’s all he needed from you. And now that he’s sure he was, he let you be.

Because now, he knew you’d look for him every time you’re out in public. When you walk past a dark alleyway. When you’re lost in a crowd and you’ll always swear you saw his face again.

Finally, it’s onto the next one he’d want to introduce himself to—onto the next one he’d want to be important to.

— heatwave

I’m suffering through the heatwave over here, and Bakugou is the only thing that could make it better or worse.

Warnings: 18+, not proofread, Bakugou is your roommate, sweaty sex, dirty talk, spanking, creampie.

Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki x f!reader.

Word Count: 3.8k.

“It’s too damn hot,” Bakugou growled as he lay the back of his head against the couch. Even the soft, worn fabric was uncomfortable against his back. Retaining more heat than necessary paired with his body temperature it had sweat pooling against his skin.

Life as an up and coming Pro-Hero had been rough. With long shifts, terrible hours and little pay he was stuck in this dingy, stuffy apartment. Waiting for the day he’d add an extra figure onto his paycheck to have enough to move out. Things like air conditioning were a lavish luxury that he couldn’t afford right now, so it meant suffering through the torridness with a small ice pack he’d grabbed from the freezer.

The only bonus was having a roommate like you.

Originally Bakugou had been adverse to living under the same roof as someone, unable to trust anyone living in close quarters with him. There was an entire cacophony of issues that could arise from picking the wrong person— from being kept up all night, the mess they could leave behind to having friends or hookups in his shared space.

But you had been a godsend, understanding of his unsocial work schedule and his house rules. You could even argue that you were a better roommate than he was, with his friends delighting in showing up unannounced and causing a mess in his apartment. Something that you were always so understanding of when you’d join them for movie nights or dinner.

You were a blessing. Or now that he thought about it, perhaps it was a curse. Now forced to watch you practically saunter around in the shortest short shorts known to man in a feeble attempt to try and deal with the extreme temperatures. Your top half not much better, the stringy vest top you wore— without a bra no less— exposed your midriff and the cute stiffened peaks of your nipples. Not that he was looking, and even if he was what did you expect him to do.

Rubbing sweat from his upper lip as he spreads his legs wide on the couch as you made your way into the kitchen, his crimson eyes roaming your figure as the shorts hugged the swell of your ass perfectly. Dipping in between the cheeks as he imagined pulling them apart to see what was hidden between them, the material dangerously close to revealing it to him anyway—

You were doing absolutely nothing to help quell the heat oozing through his body. In fact, Bakugou was certain you were making it worse. His cock jumping at the sight of you, pulsing beneath his shorts as his Adam’s apple bobbed. Praying that this sudden heatwave would cease and he could stop being tortured by the sight of you like this every damn day, it was bad enough when he’d catch peeks of you in a towel coming from the bathroom towards your bedroom, or forgotten panties left strewn around. But this? This was unbearable.

“I can’t deal with this heat,” The whiny tone to your voice had Bakugou silencing a growl deep in his chest, watching you hold the back of your hand to your forehead dramatically, “I wanna sit in the freezer.”

“Don’t you dare.” Bakugou knew from experience the heat alone would be enough to shut down the entire machine, and you both definitely didn’t have enough money to replace it if it did.

And that freezer was the only thing satiating the heat so far. Shoving his melting ice pack against his chest, the contents quickly changing form to liquid as he tried to make the most of it before it would have to go back inside the freezer.

“Let me feel,” You came around the couch to stand in front of him, his eyes set in a heavy glare as he tried to weigh up whether it was worth letting you feel how cold the pack was.

It was bad enough having you so scantily clad in such short proximity to him right now, certain he could now smell the saccharine of your perfume as you pulled the top of your vest down, exposing the swell of your breasts as you presented your sternum to him.

Bakugou pushes the pack to your chest and immediately regrets it when the sound you let out is downright sinful. You have to know what you’re doing to him, the way your lips curl into a delicious looking pout and your eyes roll to the back of your skull.

“Oh god, that feels so fucking good.” You moaned, eyes clenched shut to focus on the cool chill that slowly washed over your chest.

His cock jumps in his shorts as he tries to shift his hips to avoid you from noticing the now very evident bulge, the throb pounding through his veins as he feels a different kind of heat beginning to take over.

He should stop here, take his ice pack back and tell you to go and sit in front of your mini desk fan again. Get you out of the room and as far away as possible and save this for another day, a day when you’re both not delirious from the intense heat.

But his depraved thoughts have already consumed him, the thought of your plush body pressed against his while he slides his throbbing cock inside you now at the forefront of his mind as he presses the pack lower. Watching as you arch your back towards it, welcoming the cool chill as you lean forward to splay your sweaty palms against his thick thighs.

And whether he’s delirious from the heat, or it’s the desperate look in your eyes he doesn’t know. All he knows is he’s kissing you fiercely, the ice pack drops forgotten between your bodies in favour of grabbing your hips.

“Fuck,” You kiss him back, words swallowed by his chapped lips as you feel the bulge between his thighs press snug against your crotch.

Your hands reach up to card through messy blond spikes as your nails graze his damp scalp, your tongue swiped against his as he palms your ass. Calloused fingertips disappear beneath the flimsy fabric as he squeezes the fat of it, tugging you down against his hardness as he pulls more sultry sounds from your throat.

“It’s too hot for this, Katsuki.” You whine, breaking the kiss as you gasp for air in the humid room.

At this chance Bakugou’s lips venture lower, peppering kisses along your jawline towards your collarbones until he reaches the hem of your vest. Tugging the fabric down to reveal your round breasts, his tongue pokes out to wet his lips at the marvellous sight.

His nighttime fantasies can’t compare to the sight in front of him, crimson eyes shamelessly ogle your skin to commit the sight to memory as he leans forward.

“Shut up,” He rasps back gruffly while mouthing your breast.

You’re right, it’s entirely too hot for any kind of strenuous activity, especially when he’s sweating so much it already feels like he’s run a marathon. But the way your soft body feels pressed against his is too much to pass up. Especially when this is what he’s been dreaming about ever since he moved in with you, fisting his cock too. It’s too much to leave it to chance that he may get this opportunity again later. Bakugou’s always been a greedy man, and he wants to have you now.

“Fuck,” You cry out when his teeth graze your nipple, pushing your crotch against his with more urgency.

Certain you’ve leaked through the flimsy fabric, desire surges through you dense and fast. A stark contrast to your lethargic movements as you grind yourself down on his lap pathetically.

“Katsuki,” You whine.

His strong hands are doing all the work as he moves you how he pleases. Strong palms pick you up by the meat of your ass to drop you back down on his length. Grinding your puffy clit against his pelvis with each motion as he has you crying out in pleasure.

“Fuck, Katsu. S’too hot—”

You weren’t sure whether it was the humid air permeating the room or the way that Bakugou was looking at you with smouldering eyes that had your body aflame. Muggy, vapid air filling your lungs as clammy hands stroked along his bare torso. Mapping out a course of newly discovered territory as you let your thumbs brush against his pebbled nipples, his chest vibrating against your touch with more sultry groans.

“I know you are, sweetheart.” He hummed, his fingers brushing the crotch of your shorts, “Let me make you feel good.”

“Oh,” You gasped when you felt the calloused pads stroke your labia, involuntarily leaning forward to give him more space as Bakugou began to spread you apart for him. Fingers gliding through your messy folds, dragging your essence along your slit until he found your puffy clit.

The contact had you jolting forward, nails grazing his chest as he focused his attention on it. Circling it tentatively with the pad of his finger as you began to rock your hips back against him, uncaring about how debauched you looked as you began to seek your own pleasure.

“Yeah?” He rasped, and the gravelly husk did nothing but increase the desperation inside you, “You like that?”

“Fuck, please—“ You buried your head in the curve of his neck, your lips pressed against the slick skin as you tasted the saltiness of his sweat on your tongue.

“Please what, sweetheart,” He cooed.

“Please—“ You gasped when you felt his thumb press against your empty hole. He knew exactly what you wanted, he was toying with you.

“Tell me what you want.”

“Your fingers.” You were shameless, your hips grinding back against him as Bakugou finally took mercy on you and pushed his thumb into your sloppy entrance. The slightest penetration enough to drag a deep moan from your throat as he kept his focus against your clit, leaning his head back against the couch to try and see the blissful expression on your face as he worked you with precision.

“Got no damn idea how long I’ve been waiting to do this,” He husked against your ear, lips soft against the shell as you clenched around him in response, “Always walkin’ round in those fuckin’ short shorts got me wanting to bend you over every surface in this house.”

“Oh fuck,” You mewled, already feeling yourself teetering on the edge of your climax as he kept his pace constant against your clit, his thumb positioned to press against your spongy wall as his other hand tightened its grip on your ass. Spreading you open, as you found your bliss, “Katsuki.”

“That’s it, good girl.” He hummed, feeling your walls pulse around his digit as he kept his pace. Working you through your release as he pressed sloppy, wet kisses to your temple.

You’d lost count of the amount of times you’d wished the same, coming into the kitchen to see him still in full hero gear after work. Dirt and grime covering his body as his mask was pulled up over his forehead to show his blackened eyes, bending over to grab the carton of juice from the fridge as he held it up to his lips to chug it. Watching his Adam’s apple bob as the liquid flowed, giving you the perfect view of him as you tried to busy yourself to hide the fact you were blatantly staring.

Or the moments where he’d come out of the bathroom with a towel slung low on his hips to shout at you for using the taps in the kitchen while he was showering. The cheap apartment had one flow of hot water and it shut off that luxury whenever it was used elsewhere. The cold water catching him off guard as he glared at you, water droplets drooling down his perfect skin and making him look more like an ancient god or deity than your roommate.

“So why didn’t you?” You asked when you’d come down from your high.

“Huh?” Bakugou’s brows furrowed in confusion.

“Why didn’t you tell me how you felt before.”

“I like livin’ with you,” He shrugged, “Didn’t wanna jeopardise that.”

“You wouldn’t have,” You smiled, pulling yourself back from his neck to meet his gaze, “I like you too.”

“That mean I can finally eat this pretty little pussy?” He groaned, shuffling his hips, “Been thinkin’ about it since the day I met you.”

“Later, please—” You pawed at the hard bulge between his thigh, his pre staining the fabric as you pressed against the tip.

“Fuck,” He grunted, shamelessly bringing his fingers to his lips to get a taste of you. His tongue sweeping against his digits to clean them of your slick, “Gonna take you over every damn surface in this house, princess.”

Your fingers curled into the hem of his shorts, Bakugou lifting his hips off the couch to help you drag them down just enough to free his heady cock— the sight of it better than you’d ever imagined in those nightly fantasies.

He was thick and long, bulging veins that forked along the length of him only made him seem that much more intimidating as his balls sat heavy at the base. Neatly trimmed blond hairs decorated his pelvis as they created a pretty trail along his abdomen, unable to resist running your hand along it as his stomach folded at the touch. A sharp hiss sucked sharp through his teeth as you wrapped your hand around him at the base, holding him steady so you could see the tip. The head a swollen pink as pre continued to bead at the slit, drooling down towards his frenulum as you moved to settle between his thighs. Wanting a taste of him yourself as you swiped your thumb over the leaky tip of his cock.

“Oi, I thought you said later,” He teased, rough hands steady on your hips to stop you from moving.

“Please,” You whined pathetically, “Wanna taste you.”

You brought your thumb to your lips as your tongue swiped at the surface, tasting him on your tongue as your lashes fluttered. Crimson eyes focused on your movements as his cock twitched in appreciation, tempted to let you do whatever you pleased. But he’d been waiting far too long for this moment, and there was no way he could wait any longer.

“You little minx,” He groaned as you sucked your thumb, “I promise later.” He groaned, tugging at your shorts, “Do you like these?”

“Yeah, they’re— what the fuck, Katsuki?”

You gasped when you heard the sharp sound of ripping fabric, “I said I liked them.”

“Sorry,” You could tell from the smug grin on his face that he was anything but as he positioned you above his leaky cock, “I gotta have you now.”

You held onto his shoulders as he wrapped a large fist around his cock, dragging the tip through your slick as he felt it catch against your tight entrance. His other hand on your hip slowly dropping you down onto his length as you felt the pleasurable ache of him stretching you open ebb through your pelvis.

“I got you, sweetheart,” He groaned, watching his cock slowly disappear inside you as he felt your warm walls wrap snugly around him, “Gonna take such good care of you.”

You felt hot, the heat radiating from your sex sweltering and yet you didn’t want to let go. The thick girth of his cock filled you perfectly as you felt him pressed against every ridge and groove of your cunt like he was made for you.

Your lips move together languidly, tasting the saltiness from his upper lip as you move together in tandem. Wet and sloppy while his tongue strokes yours, desperation evident by the way you try to deepen the kiss. As though you’re trying to melt into him, to feel him devour you whole.

“Oh, shit.” You choke back a cry when you feel the tip of his cock hit a spot deep inside you, certain you’ve never had something quite so big before.

You struggle to lift yourself up with your legs spread wide over his thick thighs as you grind yourself against his lap. Your clit catching against the trimmed hairs at his base as you roll your hips with desire, your chest pressed taut to his as you start a lazy pace. The scorching heat inside the apartment makes it difficult to breathe as you writhe in his lap, his warm breath fans against your skin almost feels cooler than the thick air clouding the room.

“Kats. It’s too hot.” You whine pathetically, your pace clumsy and sluggish as the desire inside you burns hot and heavy.

“You started this.” He retorts cockily with a smug smirk on his face.

“I did not.” You pout, “This is your fault.”

“Stop whinin’” He reaches back to bring his palm down on your ass in a rough smack, the sweatiness of his quirk has his skin tacking to you as it increases the sensation, clinging to your skin as you gasp in surprise. A painful pleasure courses through your veins as the skin prickles beneath his touch, your pliant walls clamping down around his girth in retaliation.

Without hesitating he reaches his large palms back to cup a cheek in each hand, lifting you up languidly as he marvels the glossy sheen your slick leaves on his cock.

“You just sit there and look pretty, let me do the work.” He spread is thighs wider, giving himself more air as he shifted your weight. Picking you up and dropping you down on his length as he listened to the pretty sounds that spilled from you like a siren, drawing him in and capturing his heart as you pulsed around him.

“Why couldn’t you have got an ice quirk?”

Clammy hands paw at his shoulders as Bakugou repeats the motion, skin tacking to skin as he bounces you on his cock. The kinetic energy builds heat swiftly and harsh as you feel the stickiness against your skin. Your wetness seeps out against his pelvis and matts the hair at his base, catching your clit with each drop of your hips.

“Shut the fuck up,” He scoffed, “You won’t be sayin’ that come winter.”

The thought of having his warm body to warm you during those cold winter months, still being with him then— had you clenching around him.

“Oh yeah? You like the sound of that?” He grinned, “Can feel this pussy clenchin’ around me.”

“Fuck, Katsuki.” The heat was becoming unbearable, radiating from your core as it burned molten lava. The coil inside you dangerously close to snapping as you danced on the crux of your release, gasping for air as he changed tact. Holding your hips tight under sweaty palms as he planted his feet flat on the ground, pistoning his hips up into your pliant sex, “There— oh, god. Right there—”

“That’s it,” He rasped, watching your tits bounce with each rapid thrust, “Fuckin’ beautiful.”

“‘m gonna cum,” You choked out between moans, feeling the curved tip of his cock drag against the spongy spot inside you with each thrust, “Oh shit—”

“Cum for me,” He growled, “Cum all over my cock.”

The tips of Bakugou’s thumbs pressed against your pelvis, tightening his grip as it only increased the pressure. Sweat trickling down your temples as he sent you vaulting over the edge into euphoria.

“Good girl,” He grunted, feeling your walls clamp down around his cock as you willed him to come with you, trying to milk him of his seed.

The pleasure was unlike anything you’d felt before, mind-numbingly intense as you cried out a jumbled mess of his name. Your nails digging crescent moons into his skin as he hissed beneath you, shamelessly searching for his own end as the heat radiated from your body. Sliding against each other from the sweat that now trickled down your skin, leaving a glossy sheen against you both as he used you for his own pleasure.

“I’m gonna cum,” Bakugou grunted, moving to lift you off his cock before you wrapped your arms around his broad shoulders, unbothered about the stifling heat in the room as you kept him tight against you.

“Cum inside me, Katsuki.” You gasped a he choked back a grunt, your words all it took to meet his own end.

His guttural moans are sinful, erotic as you cling to him with fervour. Committing the sensation to memory as though it’s the last time you’ll have him like this, as if the heat has him in this delirious state. And maybe it does—

You never thought Bakugou could look so pretty like this, completely vulnerable as he exposes his most intimate self to you. Thick, white spurts of cum spurt from his tip as he empties his balls inside you.

“Fuck, baby.” He breathes hot and heavy as you feel his chest rise and fall against yours.

Bodies slumped together on the couch as you feel the dampness of skin against skin, your vest that now sits useless around your waist is soaked and warm as the fabric clings to your body.

“I’m so sticky,” You whine childishly, making no attempt to move as Bakugou’s fingers trace absent-minded patterns along your exposed back.

“How the fuck dya think I feel?” He rasps, “My ass is stuck to the couch.”

“Eww,” You tease, running your nose along his collarbone as you take in the musky scent of him, “We’ll have to get another couch.”

He catches you by surprise as he presses the forgotten ice pack to the back of your neck, although it’s mostly melted it’s a stark contrast to your sweltering body as you flinch in surprise. Your cunt clenches around him at the sensation as Bakugou grunts from the attention.

“Oh shit, don’t do that sweetheart—“ He hisses, wrapping an arm around your back to hold you tight against him, “You’ll make me hard again.”

Something that you’re not sure you’d mind, even though your body is screaming out for a different kind of relief now. Desperate to cool your temperature down as you scrunch your nose in irritation.

“I feel so gross.” You complain as he gives your ass another playful spank as you barely move from the impact, your bodies stuck together with a mixture of heat and sweat.

“Got no one to blame but yourself, princess,” He groans, “I was just mindin’ my business until you came over in those little shorts.”

“You weren’t complaining when you were balls deep.” You moved your head back to glare at him.

“My balls feel like they’re on fire now,” He scoffs, leaning forward to peck your pouty lips, “Cold shower?” He asks, although he’s already decided he’s showering with you— he’s taking every moment he can with you now.

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."

Your life is about to blossom. Believe that.

 put on a show 

Hanamaki Takahiro x f!reader (ft. Mattsun, Iwaizumi, Oikawa)

summary : cockwarming Makki during an online gaming session with his best friends, who were very clueless to what your boyfriend was up to. But one little mishap caused by forgetfulness, reveals it all

words: 3.5 k

warnings : smut , nsfw , voyeurism, unprotected sex, cockwarming, masturbation, webcam sex i guess, slight degradation

a/n:  was supposed to post this Makki’s birthday but had to re-edit parts. anyways, can you tell I’m obsessed with the Seijoh third year line up. Their just so gosh darn fine. Plys, this idea totally did not come up during a lecture that was boring me to death. Anyways, enjoy and give Makki some lovin.

ღ   tip me on  ᴋᴏ-ꜰɪ    ღ

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Glitter and Rot

What better way to bring in the new year that with my favourite, degenerate twins. Happy belated new year, y'all <33

Miya Osamu x female reader x Miya Atsumu

w.c 6.8k

tw: extreme dub-con, themes of infidelity, major character death, smut lite, slight gore/violence, somnophilia if you squint, murder, and, as always, yandere themes

The rain comes heavy, soaking the dirt beneath your bare feet. 

The cotton of your nightgown, drenched, plastered to your skin, does little to keep the chill of the midnight air from seeping into your bones. Raindrops fall from the leaves of the trees above you, dripping onto your shoulder, clinging to the ends of your hair, your eyelashes. 

In the mountains, away from the city lights, the night glitters with stars, streaks of soft moonlight spilling through the canopy on clear nights. Tonight, though, with the rain clouds looming ominously overhead, there’s no light beyond the sole beam of torchlight, steadily making its way closer towards you.

Your toes wriggle in the earth. Run. 

He calls out your name, twigs snapping in the undergrowth behind you. 

How… how did you get out here? 

The wind picks up, biting at your soaked, exposed skin. You shiver, and he calls your name again. This time you can hear a note of concern – not quite panic, though. Not yet. 

Run, that quiet voice urges.  

You take a step. Another–

And the torchlight finds you. Squinting under the sudden bright light shining on your face, there’s only a sigh, and the beam shifts downwards.

A familiar countenance peers back at you through the rain; dark hair, grey eyes, a strong jaw. Your husband. 

“You’re gonna give me a fucking heart attack one’a these days, sweetheart,” Osamu says, with a wry sort of laugh. “C’mon, let’s get’cha home.”

Holding an umbrella in one hand and the torch in the other, he passes you the latter so that his arm can snake around your middle, tucking you into his side and out of the rain. Unbothered by the dampness of your skin, he presses a kiss to your temple, his thumb rubbing at your side.

“… I’m sorry,” you mumble, “I don’t know– I don’t remember–”

He squeezes you side, offers you a crooked smile as he helps you back through the trees. Back home. “It’s fine, the Doc said this could happen, remember?” 

You do, vaguely. The Doctor had said a lot that day, most of it lost to the ringing in your ears. 

Neither of you say much as you make the trek back to the house. There’s a gentleness to the way he helps you peel off your sodden nightgown, letting the shower heat up before ushering you in. 

“I’m sorry,” you tell him again, when he passes you the big, fluffy towel to rub yourself dry. 

Sorry for causing him to worry. Sorry for making him chase after you in the rain in the middle of the night. Sorry that you can’t remember what came before, the life you built with him and all the happiness surrounding it.

You feel like a shell, hollow and useless. You don’t know why he keeps putting up with it, and somewhere in the back of your mind, a nasty voice whispers that he won’t for much longer.

But Samu just shakes his head with a snort, “Don’t be stupid. You’re my wife, ya don’t apologise for anythin’.”

You muster a weak smile in return, quickly glancing away. He’s only being polite, you remind yourself, pulling the towel tighter around yourself. Accident or not, none of this is ideal. It’s been weeks now, and you haven’t gotten better. Your memories are still gone, and no one can tell you with any degree of certainty when or if they’re going to come back, not to mention that tonight officially marks the third time you’ve wandered off in your sleep.

What if your memories don’t come back? What if you never return to the person you used to be? 

Before this you had a family, friends, a history. Likes, dislikes, funny stories from your childhood and weird habits. The things that shape who you are from where you’ve been. You’re just supposed to slide back into the life you had, but how can you when you don’t know who that person was?

What kind of man would want–

“Hey,” he says, catching your jaw to coax your face back up. Grey eyes appraise you, a frown pulling at his features. “I mean it. None of this is your fault. Not the accident, or your memories, the sleepwalking, none of it. And I’m not going anywhere either, alright?”

He holds your gaze, surveying you intently until you bob your head in agreement. 

“Good girl. Now are ya comin’ back to bed or are ya planning on leavin’ your poor husband high and dry for a second time tonight?”

Your cheeks heat, the heaviness between you easing somewhat as amusement dances across his face. He’s handsome, almost intimidatingly so – striking features and excellent bone structure. Something coils in your stomach as the weight of his gaze bores into you. Taking your face in his palms, his thumb brushes along the curve of your cheekbone. Slowly. 

Your mouth parts then, but whatever response you have is lost as his lips descend on yours, kissing you deeply. 

When he pulls away, when you’re breathless and slightly dazed, satisfaction and more than a touch of pride gleams from his expression.

“Though we might have to invest in some better locks. Don’t want ya wandering off too far on me.”

—

Sometimes it feels like you’re waiting for the rug to be pulled out from under you.

As if you’ve woken in someone else’s life, or a dream, and it’s only a matter of time before it all comes crashing down and you’re whisked away back to reality. A handsome, devoted husband, not one but two houses – the mountainside retreat you’re staying at while you get better, and a place in the city you haven’t yet seen – even the ring on your finger, the bright, sparkling diamond that sits next to your platinum wedding band. 

How can it be real? 

He tells you that the two of you work together in his restaurant back home, and that too  sounds sweet in an oddly domestic way.

And looks can be deceiving, you know that. Money, success, the image of a perfectly happy couple, it doesn’t mean anything. Façades can crack, rot can fester beneath the surface, slowly eating away. 

Everything he tells you sounds so… good.

You’re happy. In love. Fulfilled with your job and comfortable enough financially for the both of you to take the time off while you’re still trying to fix the broken pieces of yourself.

Accident aside, no one gets everything they want. Surely no one can be this happy. 

There’s a niggling sense of unease that bites and gnaws. No one can be this happy. 

There’s a woman who keeps calling Osamu’s phone. You know because those are the calls he lets ring out, ignoring them until he thinks you’re asleep or busy, distracted by whatever task he’s set you on for the day. 

He calls her Hikari. No, that’s not entirely true now, is it – he calls her Kari. 

“Kari, you know I wanna be there, but I can’t. Things are just– it’s not a good time right now, s’all.”

And the house is quiet enough that you can hear her desperate sniffles on the other end of the line, “Samu, please, this is important. I need you back here.”

He huffs, running a hand through his sleep mussed hair, pacing the length of the living room. “I can’t,” he repeats. “I’m sorry, I am, but after everythin’… it’s too much.”

She cries again, and it’s a strange thing but your heart squeezes in response. She sounds so broken, so lost and scared, a fragile, pitiable thing. “… I know… “ her voice trembles, “Despite what happened, I know you still care about her. I need you to come back. Please, Samu.”

You slip away then, unable to bear it anymore.

Sliding back beneath the covers of your bed, you let out the shuddering breath you’d been holding, trying to process the conversation you’d overheard. 

There were perhaps other explanations beyond an affair, but as you lie there, mulling it over, none come to mind. If she were a friend–

‘I know you still care about her.’

No. You’re not that naive. Maybe you were before the accident, or maybe you had suspicions, hell, maybe you’d physically caught him in the act – you suppose none of that matters anymore, does it? All that matters is what you’re going to do with this new development.

And as your husband returns a few minutes later, crawling into bed beside you, an arm hooked over your waist, the warmth of his muscular frame pressed up against your back chasing away the winter chill, you wonder if he sees this as some kind of atonement.

Osamu exhales, nuzzling closer in an effort to get more comfortable, and amidst the strange heaviness in your chest, you close your eyes and will yourself back to sleep. 

—

If Osamu knows that you eavesdropped on his call last night, he gives no indication come morning. Although, admittedly, that might be because of your visitor.

The day the Doctor came to the house, he’d said a lot about what was happening to you. A result of head trauma, there was no telling if or when your memories might return. 

He’d spoken to Osamu, taking your concerned looking husband aside just before he’d left.

“What did he say?” you’d asked when he’d returned dutifully to your side.

He hadn’t answered straight away, choosing instead to reach out and take your hand in his. For a moment, his focus remained on your entwined fingers, and then he’d said, “To take things slow. Too many people, too much it might… might overwhelm ya. Until things are better, it’s best if it’s just you ‘n me.”

Today, apparently, marked a change to that, because his twin brother was arriving to stay for a little while. 

Which, shortly after mid morning, he does. 

Naturally, you’ve seen pictures, you and the twins back in highschool, posing with a friend of theirs, grinning toothily and laughing at the camera. Seeing the two of them in person, though – it’s a whole other ball game.

Next to each other, they’re a mirror image, but… not. Tiny, subtle differences that weirdly make them appear more similar than less. It doesn’t make any sense at all, and yet you have no other way of explaining it. 

Osamu stands at your side, his arm slung over your shoulder as his brother pulls up front in a fancy, fast looking car. Atsumu, however, pays him no mind,  eyes – a few shades browner than his brother’s – fixed solely on you, a familiar, smirking grin broadening across his handsome visage.

Osamu tells you that the three of you are close, yet with only a faint, glimmering recognition and your husband’s words to fall back on, it’s hard to know how you’re supposed to greet someone you once knew and loved.

With an arm loosely wrapped around your front, you settle for a smile. 

Atsumu notes this with a raised eyebrow. “Aw, c’mon now, that ain’t no way to greet your favourite twin, is it?”

Before you can stop him he’s on you, yanking you away from Osamu so he can pick you up into a near crushing hug, spinning you around for good measure. You shriek and bury your face in his neck, clinging to him while he laughs, eventually setting you down on wobbly feet.

“Fuck, I missed you,” he says, ignoring Samu’s disapproving scowl in favour of taking you in, hands settling on your waist. And there must be some giveaway, a hesitance he notes because his demeanour turns curious, head tilting to the side, “Still nothin’, huh?”

You shake your head, shrugging. “Sorry.”

Feels like that’s all you’re capable of saying lately. 

“Nah, don’t be. Not your fault.”

While you don’t necessarily agree – it’s hard not to think of any of this as some kind of moral failing, as though the only reason you can’t recover those precious memories is because you’re simply not trying hard enough – it’s… nice having someone else around to help fill in the gaps a little.

Not that you aren’t endlessly grateful to Osamu – more than you actually know how to convey to him, and you have tried. It’s just that when you woke up in an unfamiliar bedroom, being watched over by a man you didn’t recognise, and with no memories of who you were or what had happened, you hadn’t reacted well.

Being your husband (the issue of fidelity aside), he’s supposed to be the person who matters the most to you, and you assume that’s a two way street. In a sense, forgetting him is its own kind of betrayal, with that comes the heaviness of expectations and fears and awfulness.

Plus, things have been… strained between you two, lately. 

So yes, having Atsumu here as a sort of buffer between you two is a relief. Having someone else to help fill in the gaps in your life, to tell you about the person you used to be – the one you’re trying to fit back into – even more so.

“That year we made it all the way to the finals before gettin’ knocked out.”

His finger draws across the picture; the volleyball team, sweaty and defeated, bowing before the roaring crowd. All these years later, now a pro playing in arguably one of the best teams in the country (according to him), a two-time Olympic medalist, and he still sounds pissed about it.

You bite back a giggle, following when he turns the page of the year book. “I dunno, second in the nation when you’re still in high school doesn't sound too bad to me.”

“You were there that day.” 

Glancing up, you find Osamu considering the two of you from the kitchen, elbow deep in food prep for dinner. “I was?”

He nods. “Yeah. Ya came to all our games, right from the start.”

“There,” Atsumu taps on the next page, a picture of a younger you cheering wildly from the stands, hands cupped around your mouth to amplify your shouts, maroon ribbons in your hair. “Our cute little cheerleader.”

“We begged ya to become our manager, but ya kept turnin’ us down,” Samu adds, then smirks, “Said you couldn’t stand being around Tsumu for another ten hours a week.”

The dig reaches its mark, Atsumu sneering as he flips Samu the bird, while his other arm slides from the backrest of the couch to drape over your shoulders. You hardly notice, utterly transfixed by the book on Tsumu’s lap. You don’t think you’ll ever get over how weird it is to be seeing these pictures, like peering into some alternate universe; you, but not you. You look happy, though.

It makes your heart ache a little.

Did you like sports, or was it more of a school pride sort of thing, you wonder. Or was it them – him, really – who drew you into it? If you watched a game now, would you feel anything, some glint of recognition? Excitement?

Flipping the page, you study the various pictures until one in particular catches your eye – only after a second glance. To be fair, the photo isn’t of you – well, it is, but you’re not the focus. Rather it’s of two girls who appear to be in the same year as you, posing cutely with each other on the school’s courtyard. Behind them, though, in the background there’s a wooden picnic bench in the shade of an oak. Perched cross-legged atop it, sitting amongst piled up books and notes, there’s you – and you’re not alone.

Shoulders back, eyes closed, soaking in the rays of the sun filtering through the leaves sits another boy. Not Osamu, one of his teammates, a dark haired kid you recognise from a bunch of the old photos they’d shown you.

The image itself might not be so remarkable – you’re not doing anything all that interesting, one of a number of people captured in the background, and slightly out of focus at that– if not for the one tiny detail that has a strange feeling racing through your heart.

Barely visible but for the way you study it, your hand is curled in his. 

“– listenin’?”

“Huh?”

Mid-way through scraping out his rice, Osamu fixes you with an odd expression. Atsumu, however, just snickers and flicks your forehead. “Ya always were a little spacey.”

Halfheartedly, you chuckle along with him.

The smart thing to do – perhaps the right thing – would be to leave it. 

Samu told you the two of you dated right through high school, so it can’t be anything like that. There’s a possibility the two of you were just close. Good friends, judging by how often he appears in the photos with you and the twins. He’d told you your parents, the only family you had, died in an accident years ago, but Samu hasn’t really spoken much about your friends. You know why, and understand it to an extent – he doesn’t want to stress you out unnecessarily, not while you’re still so fragile.

‘The doc said we gotta take things slow, baby.’

Nevertheless, your lips part, the question burning on the tip of your tongue–

Suddenly, as has become a frequent occurrence in the past few days, Osamu’s phone blares to life, the loud vibrations against the marble countertop startling all three of you. 

He doesn’t answer it, by this point you no longer expect him to. 

—

You dream of fingers running through dark hair, of lips smiling lazily. Someone laughing, ‘You’re an idiot.’

There’s a warmth, a slow burning heat that ignites in your body, trailing from your jaw, down the slope of your neck, dancing along delicate collarbone, another unfurling deep within your core. You chase the pleasant sensations, a soft, pretty moan drawn from parted lips. 

Only when teeth bite down, a tender nip to sensitive flesh are you roused from your dreams to find your husband straddling you, his mouth now between your breasts, dark eyes that glint in the low morning light taking in your visage as you slowly come to. 

“S-Samu, wha–”

“Shh.” He chuckles, your stomach flipping at the deep rumble, “Relax. Gonna make ya feel good, baby.”

Whatever protests you might have (if you have any at all) are lost when you realise that the heat pooling in your guts is due to the two digits Osamu has curled up inside of you, slowly easing in and out.

It isn’t the first time the two of you have been intimate since the accident, and while you hadn’t fought him those times either, there’s a slight niggling sensation, nearly lost to the burgeoning pleasure, that twists and knots at the thought of what’s to come.

There’s no possible way of knowing how often you’ve had sex with each other in the years you’ve been together. For him, this must be old hat. For you though, with no frame of reference, no past partners to call to mind, there’s an edge of vulnerability you wish you could get rid of.

A hesitance you don’t give a voice to – not that Samu offers you much of an opening to do so. 

Pushing up the hem of your nightdress, your husband lifts your hips enough to ease off your panties, dragging them slowly down smooth legs until they’re dangling from one ankle, and you kick them aside.

Spreading them either side of his broad frame, Osamu stands briefly to rid himself of his own underwear, crawling on all fours back between your legs – gripping one thigh to sink his teeth into soft, delectable flesh – his tongue quick to soothe the hurt when you cry out.

“A-Atsumu, he’s gonna wake up,” you murmur as he once more takes you by the waist, hefting you forward so that you lie flush against him, your legs hiked up over his hips. 

The very last thing you want right now is an audience.

With one hand, he strokes his cock with the fingers that had been buried inside your pussy, spreading the glistening mix of your slick and his pre over the thick member. The other’s planted near your shoulder, keeping him stable while he rolls his hips forward, slowly bullying his cock into your warm, tight little cunt. Osamu grins roguishly, lowering his top half down to hover above you as you fist at the sheets, your spine arcing, ankles locking over his back.

“Maybe–” he grunts, relishing in the sounds of your sweet cries and gasps as he inches his way into stuffing you full. “Maybe I want him to hear.”

—

A heavy weight drops onto the couch beside you. “Somethin’ on your mind, sweetheart?”

You fiddle with the rings on your left hand. How many times now have you caught yourself toying with them, completely lost in contemplation, their weight on your finger almost foreign? 

A few times now you’ve taken them off to wash up and forgotten about them entirely, not noticing their absence until Samu himself comes to take your hand in his and slide them back on. 

Did you used to do that before the accident?

No… no, you probably spent days marvelling at them, wiggling your fingers to make the diamond sparkle in the light. You were probably enthralled by the pretty thing. Blissfully in love. 

Happy.

“I think Osamu’s cheating on me.”

You don’t dare raise your eyeline when you say it, afraid of what you’ll see. You might be his wife, however poor a job you’re currently doing, yet the one person Osamu’s closest to is undeniably his brother. 

Since Tsumu arrived three days ago, all they’ve done is bicker between themselves, and yet without either of them saying as much, the writing’s on the wall. It’s in the looks they share, full of silent conversations you’re not privy to and won’t ever have a hope of understanding. In the way they move around each other, that implicit, frankly unnerving trust they have with one another. 

There are things Osamu can’t share with you – or won’t, maybe – but there’s not a doubt in your mind that if Samu were sleeping with somebody else, if he loved them as he claimed to love you, Atsumu knows about it.

It’s not confirmation that you’re searching for, though. You doubt he’d admit it to begin with – between you and Samu, there’s no question of which side his loyalty falls. This isn’t about that.

For days now, weeks, you’ve had this gnawing pit in your stomach that keeps getting worse, and worse and worse. 

With each day that passes, you should be making some kind of progress towards regaining your memories or, if not that, then at the very least becoming more comfortable around him. Yet you still feel like a stranger inhabiting this body, and to make matters worse, your marriage might be failing before you can try to adjust yourself to it. 

Atsumu’s really the last person you should be saying this to. It’s the sort of thing you accidentally let slip to a friend after one too many glasses of wine, letting them comfort you and offer advice, commiserate, even.

Yet Samu won’t so much as bring up the friends you had before for fear of making things worse – because you’re fragile and weak, and you haven’t shown any signs of getting better. From the complete and utter radio silence on their ends, you can only assume none of them bothered to fight him on it. 

Again, rationally speaking you can understand it – that doesn’t mean it doesn’t sting in its own bitter way.

Beside you, Atsumu laughs. Actually laughs. 

Indignation – hurt – burns, heating your cheeks as your hands curl into pathetic little fists in your lap and shake. Much to your dismay, tears prickly uncomfortably at your waterline. You go to say something, only for a lump to settle in your throat, blocking all noise. You didn’t think he’d spill the truth just like that, but to laugh at you?

In a split second decision you start to rise, planning on stalking off to go lick your wounds alone in your bedroom until Samu comes home, when a hand on your shoulder stops you.

He chuckles again when he’s met with your poisonous glare, “Hey, c’mon. Don’t run away, I wasn’t laughin’ atcha.”

Raising an eyebrow, you scoff. His lips curl into a smirk, hands coming up in a peaceful gesture. “Okay, okay, I was but… s’just funny to me that you think Samu’d ever look twice at another girl. He’s been in love with ya pretty much from day one.” 

The words should be more of a reassurance than they are. Your shoulders rise and fall, a tight shrug as your gaze dips once more to your lap, to the rings that shine mockingly on your left hand. 

Atsumu, however, isn’t so willing to drop the subject. 

“Nah, you don’t get to say some wild shit like that ‘n then go all quiet on me. Explain.”

If you got up and left, would he follow you? Probably, you muse. If anything, Atsumu’s proven over the past few days that he’s nothing if not persistent. He’s clearly amused, at your expense, mind you, yet the way he scrutinises you now, the slight narrowing of his eyes, that reminds you of a dog with a bone. 

No, he won’t let this go.

Nibbling at your bottom lip, you shrug again, “There’s this girl– woman, I guess. She keeps calling him… Samu won’t talk to her if I’m around.” You swallow tightly, “I–I overheard them, the last time she rang, and…” 

“What’d ya hear?”

You fiddle with the hem of your skirt as that tell tale prickle stings at your tear ducts. After your early morning tumble in the sheets, you’d thought that things might’ve been different between you two. But Samu still left, some hollow excuse about running errands, and all you can think is that he’s with her now, that whatever you gave wasn’t enough and–

“Look at me.” Atsumu’s no longer laughing. If anything, he actually looks mildly pissed off by the whole thing, his jaw tightening even as he tries for a reassuring smile, scooching closer and touching your shoulder again, “What did she say to him?”

“She told him she needed him, begged him to come home.” Your voice breaks, just as the dam to your tears do, tumbling down your cheeks as your shoulders shake and crumple inwards. 

Atsumu runs his tongue over his teeth before muttering a quiet curse, and you suppose that that’s confirmation enough. Without a word he pulls you into his arms, your face held to his chest while he strokes your back and you cling to him in turn, letting all the frustration and grief and confusion of the past few weeks spill out  of you in horrid, trembling cries. 

You don’t know how long you sit there, half cradled in Atsumu’s lap before he finally speaks, “I don’t care what ya heard. Samu loves you more than anythin’, we both do. He ain’t gonna throw that away for nobody.”

Drawing back, he takes your cheek in one hand, cupping it in his palm, the broad pad of his thumb sweeping away the remnants of your tears with a tenderness that near breaks your heart. 

“I mean it,” he says. You’re close enough that the warmth of his breath tickles your skin, that you can count every last one of his eyelashes. Your stomach flutters. “You mean everything to us. Nothin’s gonna get in the way of that.”

And before you can stop him, before you can blink, Atsumu’s closing the gap between you, his lips meeting yours. 

Like a computer short circuiting, there’s nothing you can do but freeze and falter as he kisses you, wholly unbothered by your lack of participation. His lips are surprisingly soft, warm as they move against yours, and while his tongue brushes along your lower lip, he makes no real effort to deepen it, seemingly content with the contact he has. 

Your heart pounds against your ribcage so violently that it drowns out all other noise. Your stomach twists, flips, churning as he moans softly into your mouth, but for the life of you, you can’t move, can’t stop this. You’re frozen. Shellshocked. Only when Atsumu breaks away, pupils dilated, eyes slightly glazed over, wearing a stupid, self satisfied little grin do you finally gain control over your body again.

By that point, he’s already shifting to settle you back on the couch, rising himself. “Samu and I love ya. We aren’t goin’ anywhere, stop worrying your pretty little head about it, yeah?”

And then he’s walking away, whistling as he goes.

—

A little while later, Atsumu calls out that he’s going for a run. You don’t acknowledge it. 

The front door opens. Closes. The sun moves across the sky, minutes tick by, and eventually he returns, sweaty and panting, popping his head in the door to make sure you’re right where he left you.

The whole time you sit stationary on your bed, staring vacantly out the window to the forest that lies beyond. Numb, just numb.

“Gonna go have a shower, then I think you ‘n me should talk before Samu gets back.” He waits and you don’t acknowledge him. Shrugging off his shirt, something wicked enters his expression, “Unless ya wanna come join me?”

That, finally, gets a reaction; your head jerking back to regard him with wide, scandalised eyes, “What?”

He winks, snickers when your gaze drops briefly below his shoulders, eyeing his muscular chest, the well defined planes of his stomach. A bead of sweat rolls from his neck, you track its path with a rapt focus, down to his navel, the smattering of hair there, the cut of the V shaped muscles that draw your attention towards– 

Abruptly, you force your attention upwards, cheeks burning as blood rushes to your face.

Atsumu, grinning smugly, missed none of it. “Next time, then.”

And with that, he waltzes off, leaving the door ajar.

… What the hell?

What the actual fuck?

Head reeling, you have no idea how you’re supposed to process this sudden shift in… well, everything. Had this – you and Atsumu – happened before? Did Osamu know about it? 

Were you cheating, too? 

Was that what your relationship with Osamu was; two deeply unhappy people screwing countless others to avoid fixing whatever it was that festered between them.

Your mind jumps to the picture you’d seen in the year book, you and that boy on the picnic bench, your hand wrapped around his. Osamu told you that you’d been dating ever since your high school days, had you been unfaithful that whole time – spreading your legs for his friends and brother until he gave up trying to be loyal in return?

You feel sick at the thought. 

What other option is there, though? What explanation? Either Atsumu’s being particularly cruel and messing with you, or he isn’t and you’re apparently more than okay fucking not only your husband but his brother as well.

‘Despite what happened, I know you still care about her.’ Hikari’s words ring mockingly in your head. All this time you’ve been so bent out of shape over the idea of Osamu with another woman, and it’s now occurring to you that maybe you might’ve been the one to drive him to it.

Despite what happened.

You draw in a shuddering breath, you bring a hand to your lips, either to stifle a sob or to keep yourself from throwing up, you’re not entirely sure which. 

And as the sound of running water filters through the room, so too does a sense of calm clarity. 

For weeks now you’ve been trying to make this work, trying to slip back into the person you were, a life that you don’t truly remember.

And it isn’t working. 

You still don’t feel normal around Osamu. You don’t remember anything, and despite what you’d been told from the start – despite fighting it every step of the way – you have to accept the possibility that that might not change.

Your spine straightens, the grip you have on the duvet easing as you take another, calmer breath in, letting it fill your lungs and clear your head.

The answer’s been staring you in the face this whole time. If you can’t find your way back to the life you led before you got hurt, perhaps rather than clinging to a past that doesn’t truly belong to you anymore, it’s time you cut it loose and walk away.

A clean break doesn’t sound like such a bad idea when the current situation promises nothing but messiness, hurt and heartbreak for everyone involved.

Even if the thought of going it alone is a terrifying one. 

Even if it means leaving the one – now two, you suppose – people who stood by your side in the aftermath behind.

And as if the universe senses the tumultuousness inside your head, the sharp, trilling sound of a ringtone shatters it, snapping you out of your thoughts and back into the moment. 

You figure that it must be Atsumu’s phone and despite being startled, you’re content to let it ring out – after all, it’s not your phone, not your business. 

Atsumu’s a professional athlete, an incredibly successful one at that, there could be any number of important people on the other end of the line, and if it’s critical, whoever it is can leave a message. You’re not his receptionist.

After a few seconds, the ringing stops. And begins again.

Frowning, you push yourself up from the bed, heading towards the dining room. Atsumu’s still in the shower, you can hear the faucet running, your only thought is that if it’s Samu and it’s something urgent, he won’t mind. 

Except when you find it, lit up and vibrating on the kitchen bench, the caller ID isn’t his twin’s. Again, the ringing stops, and again, after a short beat, it begins anew. 

The picture that fills the screen is of a pretty girl with dimples, her arms looped around a familiar looking brunet.

Not Osamu, but the boy from the yearbook. Older, of course, smiling lazily at the camera while she pokes her tongue out and throws up two peace signs. 

Little Suna, the caller ID tells you, and in brackets next to a sun emoji; Hikari.

Your heart squeezes, a thick lump settling in your throat as you survey the image of the two of them. But it isn’t dismay, or the hurt you’d felt earlier when Osamu was hiding her. You can’t put a finger on what it is exactly, only that looking at that picture fills you with an incomprehensible and near overwhelming sense of grief, like someone’s clawed their way into your chest, taken your still beating heart in their hand and slowly, agonisingly, ripped it from you.

Without consciously choosing to do so, you slide the little bar across, answering the call and clicking on the speaker icon.

“H-hello?”

The silence you’re met with is heavy. Pregnant. Why did you pick up? Why the hell did you answer?! Panic and common sense sets in and you silently curse yourself for being so stupid, your finger moving to hurriedly tap the end call button. 

And then you hear her gasp, a tiny, sharp little thing that spears right through you. Hikari stutters your name, “You… Wha– they… they found you?”

She starts to laugh then, or maybe she’s sobbing, it’s difficult to tell exactly. 

“You’re okay?” she asks, the sound muffled by choked, ragged noises. “Oh my god, I can’t believe you’re okay! A-after they found Rin, I-I thought–”

White noise drowns her out.

… Rin.

Rin…taro. 

Suna.

Your knees go weak, giving way beneath you. Pain sings through your kneecaps as they collide with the wooden floorboards, but it’s nothing compared to the agony that overtakes your chest, spreading with every beat of your frantic heart until it’s the only thing you can feel, and you cling to it. Desperate. Gasping.

There’s a frantic noise somewhere, Hikari calling your name; it’s lost to the pounding haze. Nothing more than the buzz of a gnat flittering around your head.

Every thought eddies from your head, only him. Only that name; Suna Rintaro.

And suddenly–

“You’re an idiot, you know?”

You laugh, throwing an arm around his shoulder as you wriggle your fingers in front of his face, admiring the sparkling ring. “But it’s so pretty, don’t you think? It suits me.”

He raises an unimpressed eyebrow when you turn to cheekily grin at him, “Considering I was the one who picked it, yeah, that was kind of the idea.”

Giggling, you stretch up on your tippy toes to press a kiss to his cheek.

………

“Gin can’t make it. Somethin’ about his girlfriend and the baby,” Rin mutters, appearing in the doorway of your bedroom. “So it’ll just be us and the twins, I guess.”

“Well geez, no need to sound too excited about it,” you say, eyeing your boyfriend – fiancé now, you have to keep reminding yourself – from the mirror as you battle with the clasp of your necklace. “It’s fine, we’ll see him when we see Kita and the others next month.”

A few seconds pass with no sign of victory, and Rin rolls his eyes, “Let me.” 

He comes up behind you, taking the delicate gold chain from your fingers and nimbly clasping it shut in what feels like a mockery of your struggles. Adjusting the pendant so that it falls better, he exhales, letting his arms fold loosely around you, his chin coming to a rest atop your head. 

The faint crease between his brows, the set of his jaw – to anyone else he might appear bored, annoyed even. You aren’t so easily fooled. You know Rin, know better than to push. It’s not hard to guess what’s bothering him, though. “You think it’ll be weird?”

He doesn’t say anything for a moment. Then he shrugs, “I think it’ll be weirder without Gin.”

“It was years ago, they’ve both moved on – a long, long time ago. They’re our friends, Rin. The only thing they’re gonna be is happy for us.”

………

A hand covering your mouth, another roughly shaking your shoulder, rousing you from sleep. “Shh, shh, it’s just me. There’s someone in the house,” Rin’s voice whispers in your ear. “Get under the bed and don’t make a sound, okay? I’ll be right back.”

“Rin–”

“Not a fucking sound!” he hisses, and quietly slips from the bed. As if on cue, a loud shattering noise cuts through the room, and terror, absolute terror, grips you. You do as he bids, limbs shaking and clumsy, the sound of every breath enhanced in the quiet stillness Rintaro leaves behind. You clamp a hand over your mouth to try and muffle it.

You wait, and wait, trembling in the darkness.

And then a crash, heavier than the last one. Rintaro’s yelling, more voices raised, more muted thumps, grunting and howling bellows of agony that have every hair on your body standing on end, and abruptly–

Silence.

It rings in your ear, echoing.

Your pulse thunders, every beat of your heart pumping a paralysing mix of fear and panic through your body. You’re shaking like a leaf, tears streaming down your cheeks as you try – try so desperately – not to make a noise like Rin told you to.

The footsteps that approach have your blood running cold, and you squeeze your eyes shut, wheezing terrified breaths as you choke back sobs and pray that they won’t find you. 

You aren’t that lucky.

You aren’t that quiet.

They stop at the foot of the bed. Two of them. One bends down, a hand finding your ankle and with a snickering laugh, yanks you out into the open. 

You scream and fight against the figures clad head to toe in black, thrashing like a wild thing for all the good that it does you. You’re determined not to go easy – at least, not until they carry you out past the living room, the mess they left there.

Rin, but not Rin. Not with his face brutalised like that, his skull all caved in, limbs broken and splayed out all wrong.

No.

No, no, no, no.

One eye, empty and lifeless, staring back–

It’s too much.

You blink, jerking back to the present with a heaving gasp. Glancing up, your gut tightens into a knot as two things become starkly apparent. 

One; Osamu’s finally returned, standing half frozen in the doorway, appraising you with an uncharacteristically cold expression.

Two; it’s deathly quiet. Turning your head, you find that the call with Kari’s gone silent, a shirtless Atsumu, hair damp, a towel wrapped dangerously low around his hips, gripping his phone, jaw tightly clenched.

It twists into an awful sort of forced grin when he notices you’ve come back to them. 

“I really, really wish ya hadn’t done that, baby.”

Hello dear friends! ❤🤍🖤💚

🍉I am Mahmoud Ayyad, a Palestinian from the besieged and destroyed Gaza 😭😭, coming from an extended family of young children, women and elderly people ❤❤ who have been suffering😭😭 for 300 difficult days from an aggressive war.

Our lives are harsh because we lack all the basic necessities of life. Everything has become scarce and unattainable. There is no food, no water, no medicine.

So, I ask you to help me keep my family safe and alive, especially after we had lost all our sources of livelihood.Please do not leave my family to struggle and suffer these difficult days alone. You can support my campaign by donating whatever you can or by sharing my posts to reach others who can help us survive the war to safety and peace. You are helping the lives of many people with your small contribution. Every donation makes a difference in our very difficult lives. But this is a legitimate campaign and has been checked by 90-ghost.

https://gofund.me/31c5cbe3