#do you think after everything goes down sometimes when they’re about to sleep
Text
i do think we should crank up the dial on eroticizing the fact that lbh fully pieced back together sqq’s meridian system. like sqq DETONATED IT and lbh painstakingly, bit by bit, put it back together. the intimate awareness of the inner working of sqq’s body….. listen to me
#svsss#bingqiu#when i think about it i go crazy#FIVE YEARS GIVING SQQ A CORE BACK#do you think after everything goes down sometimes when they’re about to sleep#lbh mindlessly presses sqq close and begins circulating his energy into him to sqq’s bewilderment#that shocked little freeze when sqq asks him what he’s doing#LISSSSTNTR TO ME
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
It starts small.
Steve buys Eddie a handful of cassettes after the whole Upside Down business. Drops them unceremoniously in Eddie’s lap while Eddie’s laid up in the hospital. Eddie pulls them all out of the plastic bag and lays them out in his lap while Steve stands a few feet away, arms crossed protectively over his torn up middle.
“I got things on your vest,” Steve says as Eddie takes in the titles. “I figured everything in your room’s probably gone now, but I still have your vest, and I’ll — I’ll give it back. When you get out of here. It’s safe in my room. But, just — yeah, the tapes are things you have on it.”
Dio’s The Last in Line, Motorhead’s Ace of Spades, Metallica’s Ride the Lightning, Judas Priest’s Screaming for Vengeance, and WASP’s self-titled album.
“I almost bought you more, but I wasn’t sure what else, and I don’t know much about your music, so I just got those. I was going to bring you my Walkman, but I couldn’t find it,” Steve says. “I think one of the kids borrowed it and never gave it back, actually.”
Eddie still hasn’t said anything yet. He’s still taking in the gift in his lap, can’t even comprehend that Steve wanted to give him more.
“Uh,” Eddie says, trying to get his brain working again. “Yeah. Man. Fuck, dude. Thanks. Seriously. Don’t worry about the Walkman, really. This is nice, Harrington.”
“Yeah, no problem, Munson,” Steve says softly. He goes and sits in one of the chairs in Eddie’s hospital room, and stays there until the kids come running from Max’s overcrowded room to ask for a ride home.
Eddie lays there with his tapes spread out over his lap, and he finds himself smiling down at them. He doesn’t even have anything to listen to them on, but he thinks it might be the most thoughtful gift he’s ever gotten from anyone other than Wayne.
It’s nice, he thinks, that he might be becoming friends with Steve Harrington. It’s nice, he thinks, that even when they’re no longer fighting for their lives, Steve might want to stick around.
He didn’t expect that.
Eddie’s in the hospital for two weeks, and Steve stops by almost every day. He sits for a while, sometimes they talk, sometimes they don’t. Sometimes Eddie wakes up and sees Steve sleeping in one of the uncomfortable hospital chairs. He doesn’t wake him, just smiles to himself because Steve’s tired, but he doesn’t want Eddie to be alone.
It’s been a while since Eddie’s had a friend the same age as him. Jeff and Grant are both two years younger than him, Gareth is four years, and Henderson, Wheeler, and Sinclair are all five or six years younger. He has friends, but Steve feels different, just a few months younger but already graduated. In a way, it makes Eddie feel younger, still being in high school and all.
He doesn’t really think that should matter, but it kind of does. All his younger friends look up to him, he’s always the one making plans and making sure everyone sticks to them, he’s the one in charge of it all — the older one. But when Steve’s around — Steve, with his real job, and high school diploma, and his nice car, and the brood of children he chases after, Steve, who’s an adult in all the ways Eddie himself feels like he’s not — Eddie feels like he can sit back and let someone else do all of that.
When Steve’s around, it feels like he has someone to care for him and look out for him the way he’s done for the others.
It starts to ease everything he’s carried for so long.
* * *
The next time Steve buys something for Eddie, it’s even smaller.
In fact, it’s so small that Eddie doesn’t even notice it at first because Steve was actually really sneaky about it. Eddie would almost find it cute, if he were allowed to think about Steve that way. He’s not, to be clear. It goes against his Munson Doctrine to have crushes on the jocks, rich kids, and straight boys, of which Steve is all three, but if he wasn’t, then yeah, Eddie would find it cute that Steve is sneaking him tiny gifts when he isn’t looking.
There’s a keychain on his van keys that he certainly didn’t get for himself. He notices it one day during a get together at Harrington’s house. Eddie just got out of the hospital a few days ago, and everyone insisted on throwing a party. Now kids are running around Steve’s backyard, yelling and hollering and trying not to fall in the freezing cold pool. It’s still too early in the spring to swim.
Even Max, barely out of the hospital herself, is being wheeled around in her wheelchair by nothing more than El’s mind powers.
It’s kind of fucking insane, to be honest.
But Eddie needs to go out to his car to get his pain meds because he’s really starting to feel the length of the day in his aching joints and healing wounds, so he grabs his keys off Steve’s counter where he left them, and that’s when he sees it.
A tiny metal bat dangling from his keys.
He knows it was Steve because Steve was the only one in the house when he got here and set his stuff down in the kitchen, and no one else has gone inside since Eddie found his way to the backyard, so of course it was Steve.
Eddie doesn’t mention it, just smiles to himself and runs his fingers over the pointed wings.
He sees Steve looking at him when he comes back into the kitchen. Eddie raises his hand and shakes his pill bottle at him, and without another word, Steve goes to the cupboard to get a glass that he fills with water.
Eddie sets his keys back down on the kitchen counter as Steve slides the glass of water over to him. Steve nods at the keys, and Eddie grins at him.
“Thank you,” Eddie says.
“I have a matching one,” Steve says, turning back toward the sink to look out the window above it. “Just, you know, because…”
He gestures at his torso, and then over at Eddie, and Eddie nods. He gets it.
It makes him feel a little bit closer to Steve. Even if Eddie isn’t allowed to crush on him, he’s happy to have someone who gets him. Who understands what he went through, and feels similar pain.
It’s like Steve’s saying You’re with me now, we’re connected, and you’re not getting rid of me.
Read on AO3
#eddie munson#steve harrington#steddie#steve x eddie#steve harrington x eddie munson#steve/eddie#steddie fic#my fics#stranger things
2K notes
·
View notes
Note
pavitir x reader cuddle hc🛐
Lovebug? No, Cuddlebug.
“Your hands are so warm.”
Pavitr x Gn!Reader
my baby pavitr is the most bright ray of sunshine
You: Pink
Pavitr: Orange
(i’ve used Hindi for endearments, as in Hindi Pavitr Prabhakar means “Pure Light Maker.”)
This man will squeeze you and not let go
he is an avid “hug until he cant breathe” advocate
will let you crush his bones if you wanted
he loves the feeling of another person around him
doesn’t matter if your lying on top of him, or he’s on you.
sometimes he grabs you and presses against your back, drapes his arms over your shoulders and kind of flops there.
his fav hug types are 1 and 4 (predominately four tho)
“You doing okay there, Pav?”
“Thithli, my body is worn. Please hold me.”
He will let you suffocate him if you so pleased
and absolutely adores when you try and crush him
squeeze as much as possible
literally try as hard as you can, he loves the lingering feeling of you on him
but if you get hurt if he squeezes too hard
he cries
he straight up sobs
he’s apologising profusely and not letting you tell him it’s okay
“Pav baby, it’s okay.”
“No! Don’t forgive me,” *sniffle* “,I hurt you!”
“I’m not even hurt, Do I look hurt?”
“..”
“C’mere.”
*sobs*
Now when it comes to cuddles??
this man is a god send
he’ll come back home to you after a day of spidering
lay you down and strip himself of his suit and gear
and will give you the best massage of your fucking life
and you know he’s good at it 2
you’ve seen how dexterous he is with his webs
he knows what he’s doin
his love language is touch and words of affirmation so you can imagine how that goes
“Doing so good for me, Shonu.”
“Just relax, your doing great.”
“Mm, relaxed, jus’ wan’ cuddle you.”
“We can cuddle after, need you comfy.”
He even goes shopping sometimes just to get you massage oils
the ones that smell nice
they remind him of you, okay? leave him alone
he loves u
“Baby, what are these?”
“They’re massage oils! I’m thinking maybe we should get a massage table too, we can make the whole set up.”
“Why are there so many?”
“I chose the ones that smelt most like you.”
“…You think I smell like vanilla cinnamon?”
“Yeah—“ *kiss*
“Oh! Awe, love you too.”
“Hmmph”
Now comes the cuddles,
once he’s finished he’ll put everything away and lay down next to you
your basically deadweight at this point
like you feel like jelly
will snuggle up against you
loves putting his head on your chest, or your stomach
he likes feeling like he’s worshipping you
when you’re almost asleep, he’ll lay down next to you
will wrap his arms around your waist and drag your body over his
will fix your limbs so your basically buried in him
put your arms around his neck, your head tucked under his chin
let you move around as much as you want
you’re uncomfy this way? okay, he’ll move his leg
your arms are dead, bring em down baby
“Pav.. My hand is dead.”
“Oh! Thithli, am I laying on it?”
“Mm.. Felt good at first. Now it’s dead.”
“Move it here, honey, c’mon.”
“Your hands are so warm!”
“You were warmin’ ‘em up.”
All with a smile on his face
he loves sleepy you
it’s knowing how much you trust him that brings him to his knees
how vulnerable you can be with him that has him swooning in his hopeless romanticism
sings to you sometimes
only when your asleep
when he’s still up, maybe thinking about spider things
or even just school
he gives you a little hum
you don’t even know how much you love it
or subconsciously love it
it’s such a nice feeling to lay on his rumbling chest
like your being lulled into a deeper sleep
eventually falls asleep with you, and will probably wake up half way off the bed with you clinging onto him
bonus!!
THREAD UR HANDS THROUGH HIS HAIR!!!!! MANS WILL MELT I KNOW IT
—
losing my mind hes so fucking cute hes so adorable he’s so baby
tags :>
@sodapopzds @squiiv @blublubluu
#pavitr my beloved#pavitr x reader#pavitr prabhakar#atsv pavitr#spiderverse pavitr#pavitr x you#spiderverse x reader
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
Mike Schmidt x Reader
Pt: 3 Friday Nights
Summary: Abby’s first sleepover gives you and Mike some alone time.
The friendship continues
Tropes: fluff, sultry thoughts but no explicit smut.
Word count: 3337
And they were roommates…
Pt. 3 of This Series
A\N: Hey!! So I’m a bit more insecure about this one than I am with my previous two parts. I still think it’s sweet, and I like how it turned out, but let me know if I should do a rewrite!!
“I mean truly, the stark change within Abby…”
The school counselor’s words fall on ears occupied with something else.
“….I mean I’ve never seen…”
Mike tried to pay attention - at the beginning - but eventually the words tangled together to create a meaning the counselor could’ve communicated with one or two sentences.
“… so quickly. Whatever you’re doing, it’s clearly…”
Plus, Mike has more important things on his mind.
“… good that she has someone like you.”
Mike barely catches the end of her…seemingly endless lecture.
He hears the compliment. It feels unwarranted but Mike politely grins anyway.
Mike has questions. He has so many questions.
The problem that the counselor is referring to… Abby healed it on her own, mostly. Her friends helped her - but crawling out of her shell - thats all her. Mike just made sure she didn’t die. Even then…
He still feels stabbing guilt; a lot of the time. For what he almost did.
“Sh - She gets nightmares, sometimes,” Mike does too, but this isn’t about him.
“is” he gulps down the lump in his throat, “- is there anything I can do?”
The counselor folds her hands together like she’s trying to explain something to a feral child. Mike recognizes the gesture. It’s not one of genuine kindness; it’s the kind of gesture someone enacts when dealing with a delicate situation.
“Does she talk to anyone? About the nightmares.”
Mike huffs, “she’s pretty tight lipped about it,” but he knows that she wants them to stop.
“No,” the counselor almost sounds amused, Mike tries not to let the tone offend him.
“I mean does she talk to anyone about it.”
Ah. He gets it now.
“You mean like a shrink?” He questions.
The counselor nods and gives him a look doused in sympathy. It makes Mike want to get up and leave.
“Can’t afford it.”
“Ah,” she says, before launching into another lecture about how to avoid dreams, and calm anxiety before bed.
Mike listens this time.
The day after the meeting, Mike goes about his day.
Everything goes how it’s supposed to go. He goes to work, coordinates with his project supervisor, and eats lunch.
Until he gets a call from Abby’s school.
When Mike’s coworker, Jordan, calls him out of the work room, he says it’s an emergency.
Mike’s heart fucking palpitates. He almost drops the damn drill.
He’s never struggled to take off his gloves, or unclip the bulky helmet, but he does now. His hands get clammy and hot. It gets hard to breathe.
Mike’s still has the safety goggles on when he gets to the phone.
“Hello? What’s wrong?”
Abby’s voice comes through the other end, “Can I have a sleepover with Selina?”
Mike exhales. He rips the safety goggles off and rubs the bridge of his nose.
He takes one more deep breath before answering, “Is that all you called to ask?”
Abby confirms before launching into an explanation, “Please, please. Katy is going, and so is Josie and Sofia and they’re making cookies and Silena has a trampoline.”
Mike’s tapping the phone, his fingers feel tingly and that urge to hold his breath comes back, “Look, I don’t think that’s a good -“
“- No, It’s fine. They have a trampoline Mike, please.”
She doesn’t get it.
That’s the hardest part. She doesn’t understand that she’s not safe at someone else’s house. Overnight? What if there’s a fire? or what if she can’t sleep?
Mike remembers the school counselor's words about Abby’s progress. He would’ve taken her opinion with a grain of salt, if he didn’t see it for himself.
Even according to Mike’s independent observation; Abby’s started to smile around other kids a lot more compared to before.
In fact, she’s planning fucking sleepovers with other kids.
Mike thinks about his mom.
What would their parents do?
“I want to talk to Selina’s parents first.”
So, Mike does end up talking to Selina’s parents.
He meets them in the parking lot after school.
They explain the whole ordeal. Their plans and the occasion that sparked the sleepover.
They seem normal. They remind Mike of coworkers his dad used to invite to 4th of July grills.
The mom - Janice - works at the hospital, and the dad - Sean - works at a bakery.
Sean and Janice give Mike their house address. So, he knows where to drop off Abby after she goes home to pick up clothes and a sleeping bag.
When Mike enters the car, he’s greeted with two sets of expectant gazes.
Mike’s eyes shift between the two of you, Abby’s grinning, but you just look sheepish.
Mike rolls his eyes, but he’s grinning, “make sure to pack your toothbrush.”
Abby smiles on the way home.
You're in the living room when just Mike walks through the door.
You have pajamas on, and you’re lounging on a loveseat tilted towards the TV. A mug of wine rests on the coffee table. Along with some type of cheese and cracker.
Something smells good.
“There’s food on the stove, it should still be hot” you call, then eat a cracker.
Mike beelines a straight shot to the kitchen, “Thanks.”
You mhm through a mouthful.
Mike can’t wait to eat, but when he reaches for a plate he sees the specks of sawdust layering his clothes.
He clenches his jaw, and counts backwards from ten.
“Hey, uh, I’m gonna shower first, but if you leave the dishes I’ll do them later.”
Your eyes stay glued to the TV, “Okay, there’s also wine on the top of the fridge. If you want any.”
Mike showers and dresses. When he returns to the kitchen, the quietness hits him square in the face.
Abby’s not in the house, and it feels like he’s forgetting something important - Like his keys are missing, or he lost his wallet - It puts him on edge.
Despite his unease, something sweet and warm, like syrup, spreads through Mike when he serves himself a portion of dinner.
It’s mostly covered up by the gray-haired worry about Abby at someone else’s house, but Mike won’t deny the comfort of having a good meal, and wine, after working.
Mike doesn’t know how he did it when he lived alone with Abby. He had to cook, clean, and pay bills. All on his own.
Back before you, Mike would have to leave in thirty minutes for his second shift of the day.
Mike wonders if Abby enjoys the new schedule as much as he’s enjoying it.
He brings the food and the wine to the coffee table, and sits on the sofa adjacent to your loveseat.
Mike has no idea what the fuck you’re watching, but it seems…interesting.
He doesn’t care to complain, though. It’s not like he’s invested in the show.
A few beats of comfortable silence fly by before you speak, “How was work?”
Your question feels like an embrace. It’s the type of question that someone asks when they want to talk, but can’t think of anything else to say.
You want to talk to Mike, and it makes him feel some type of way.
Maybe it’s not that deep.
“Good - long - what’re we watching?”
“No idea. I think she,” you point to a character, “wants to do something that he-” you point to a different character, “doesn’t like. So, she’s going behind his back and stuff. But I’m just watching this because I like the show that comes on next, and I don’t wanna miss it.”
Mike hums through his food. He kind of wants to ask why you’re not going out. It’s Friday night.
Are you feeling alright? What’s different about this Friday from all the other Fridays?
Instead he does the dishes.
When he returns, he’s still not really paying attention to your show. Even though, every now and then you’ll add commentary. He just mhm’s through it.
Does Abby remember his number in case she wants to go early? What if she gets too cold in their house? What if she has a nightmare? Would she call him?
His fingers are pulling apart the threads at the arm of the couch, and his leg is bouncing.
He drinks more wine.
“- about it?”
Mike snaps out of his head, “uh,” he tries to blink himself awake, “- sorry, what?”
You shrug and gesture to his fingers pulling apart the couch, “you’re um,” you clear your throat, “you seem… off. Do you want to talk about it?”
He…didn’t even notice that he was fidgeting with the threads like that.
“Oh,” he chuckles, but the sound comes out sounding more awkward, and nervous than amused, “is it that obvious?”
“No, no not at all,” you make eye contact with him, and that creamy comfort returns to make a sugary home in Mike’s chest.
“Well…” you begin, “…Kinda, yeah.”
This time, the laugh you pull out of Mike sounds genuine. Even to him.
It’s not a huge laugh, more of a happy scoff really, but it makes him feel a little better nonetheless.
“It’s just…” Mike starts, and you direct your body to face him instead of the TV.
Even though your show is playing. You want to listen to Mike more than you want to watch your show.
He has to fight down a smile, “…this is the first time Abby’s had a sleepover.”
Your mouth makes an O-shape, and you nod like you’ve got it all figured out.
“Yeah, the first time is always the hardest.”
That makes Mike think. How would you know?
“My mom used to get so nervous when my brother started going to sleepovers,” you add.
Your understanding of his nervousness makes sense, given the backstory, but there’s a detail in that sentence about you, and it means something to him.
“You have siblings?”
You nod excitedly, “a brother and a sister.”
Mike literally has no idea how he’s never heard about this before, “how - how old are they?”
“My sister’s seventeen. She’s a junior in High school,” you’re talking with your hands as you talk about your siblings. You seem excited, It’s making Mike smile.
“You should see her play sports, she's the Volleyball team captain this year…”
For real, you’re talking about them like you’re proud, and the genuine joy in your tone makes Mike want to crawl up next to you.
“- and my brother’s heading into middle school but he’s such a sweet kid. He used to get so excited when we went to the park. He loves to climb trees.”
It sounds like you haven’t seen them in a while.
The stories connect a few dots for Mike, though. This is why you’re good with Abby.
You and Mike end up talking more, he blames the wine.
Apparently, he gets chatty when he feels that familiar alcohol-induced warmth in his stomach.
Eventually, he asks why you didn’t go out on a Friday night.
The answer is much simpler than he expects.
“My show finally came out with a new season, and the new episodes air on Fridays.”
Mike snickers. His amusement comes at the expense of himself. Of course it was something simple, he doesn’t know why he even bothered to speculate.
He doesn’t expect you to return the question. But you do.
“ - it’s your night off, Abby’s taken care of, and don’t you miss going out and doing your own thing?”
Well, to be honest, he never really had the time. For years, Mike spent nights occupied with…something he doesn’t need to do anymore.
He can’t tell you that, though.
So he says, “Nah, I never went out. Even before Abby.”
“Is it ‘cause you don’t like crowded spaces?”
Mike doesn’t think too hard about that, but he snickers because it feels like you pulled it out of a hat.
He snickered again. He’s doing that a lot around you.
It’s probably just the wine.
“No? Just never had the time.”
You nod, but then you get that wide-eyed excited look that you got when you asked Mike to move in with you,
“Wanna go out tonight?”
If anyone, ever, asked about why Mike agreed as quickly as he did, he’d blame the wine. He’d blame the wine until he went blue in the face and died of suffocation.
He doesn’t even admit to himself that the wine isn’t the reason he said yes.
After he agrees, you tell him about a place that you think he’d like.
You say that it’s, “like a botanical garden, but they put lights up, and serve food, at night.”
You tell him that it’s not crowded, like a bar or club, because technically it’s a fancy place, and that’s why you both need to change clothes before calling a cab.
So, Mike calls a cab. Then, he puts on a button-down shirt, and throws on a pair of his nice jeans.
Still, he feels slightly, very, underdressed compared to you.
You come out of your room wearing an elegant little black dress that hugs parts of you in a way that makes Mike blush and breathe heavy.
Your neck stays uncovered. He sees the skin where the hickies used to be, but this time there’s no hickies.
Mike can think of a way to change that.
His dick jumps, and he wishes he could do something about it.
You make him feel things that he doesn’t want to feel.
“You ready?” You ask, and Mike has to swallow and take a deep breath to keep himself in check.
He’s very ready. Just, not in the way you think.
“Uh, yeah. Are - are you?”
You smile and nod.
The cab drive goes well. Mike’s getting used to the tightness in his pants.
So, that place that you’d said he’d like, he does.
At first, it felt like he didn't belong. A lot of people dressed better than him, many have their hair in hairstyles, and he can’t pronounce more than half the food on the menu.
You can, though.
To be fair, the menu ended up as a non-problem; because after you pointed out the prices, Mike gave you a look, and you gave him the same look back.
You both scurried out of the seating area before an employee could take any orders.
Mike likes the botanical garden.
He likes how you talk in the botanical garden.
It costs to get in, but it’s gorgeous.
It's the twilight hour when you walk through the pathway together.
Sometimes your arms brush.
Every time it happens, Mike’s heart fills with something, but you don’t seem affected.
He glances at your fingers throughout the walk. He starts to note the little divots in your palms. How would they feel against his? Would you be mad? If Mike picked up your hand and kissed the palm?
You talk about the practical uses of plants that you see. Mike learns that dried-up yarrow leaves can help clot blood. He also learns that solar energy powers the lights shining on the rows of green life.
You talk about how cool it is, that the owners made this place one-hundred-percent sustainable, and he can’t help but agree.
Your smile infects him with feelings that flutter through his arteries, and you’re smiling a lot.
Eventually, conversation lulls, but it’s the nice kind of lull. It’s a quiet comfort, like warm sheets and fresh tea.
There’s a greenhouse exhibit towards the end of the pathway. A worker checks in your coat, then tells you where to pick it up at the end of the exhibit.
When he first steps inside, Mike nearly goes into shock over the change in temperature. It’s hot, and he has to roll up his sleeves immediately or risk complaining about it.
It doesn’t help.
The place smells good, though; like moist soil and moss.
The greenhouse has fairy lights hanging overhead, and multicolored flowers decorate the pathway.
It’s laid out like a maze, the illuminated path winds around little islands of floral beauty.
Mike likes the palm trees. Most of them have pretty colored lights wrapped around the trunk.
It’s nice, Mike won’t deny the otherworldliness of the beauty, but honestly, he wouldn’t enjoy it as much if you weren’t there.
You bring a certain excitement to the excursion that Mike doesn’t think he can feel on his own.
You ask him if he likes plants, and honestly, he’s never thought about it.
He shrugs says they’re nice, because they are, and they’re starting to remind him of you.
His shirt collar is drenched in sweat by the time you two get to the end of the greenhouse.
He’s self-conscious about the wetness at first, but then he sees your neck.
It makes him want to do other things that would make you sweat.
The garden isn’t that populated right now. He could do it, if you wanted it too.
Lift up your skirt, press his dick against the plush of your ass. He’d nuzzle his nose into the crook of neck, and breathe you in before dragging his tongue along your nape.
He’d grab a fistful of your tits from the front of your dress.
He would take off your panties, but he wouldn’t give them back. He’d keep them in his pocket like a treasured souvenir.
Would you like it? If Mike made you walk around with wetness staining your inner thighs?
Maybe you’d find it demeaning, to be forced to walk around like that, but maybe you wouldn’t.
Mike’s very glad that it’s nighttime, because it’s too dark for you to see the outline of his half-hard dick.
The pathway leads to an outdoor bar.
The counter rests under a gazebo-like structure. Vines curl around the pillars like the lights on the palm trees, and quiet music plays over the chatter of the customers.
The bartender greets you by name.
You introduce the bartender to Mike as Miranda, and it takes him a moment to realize that he’s seen her before.
Miranda comments on it before he does. Mike probably wouldn’t have anyway.
“Yeah, I’ve seen you before, you’re the roommate right?” Miranda asks, and Mike gives her a tight-lipped grin.
“Yeah, it’s nice to officially meet you,” he returns.
“Yeah you too,” she says, “Anyway, is there anything I can get you guys? Completely on the house.”
You get a little wide-eyed at that, “Hey no, it’s okay, we can -“
“- I still owe you for dinner last week, remember? It’s fine. Tequila sunrise?”
You ease into your barstool, a soft, yeah spilling from your lips.
Mike thinks it's cute.
However, Miranda’s attention moves to Mike, and his panic chases away the good feelings.
Mike’s never been to a bar like this before. He’s not sure what to order, he’s not sure how, “uh, what do you have?”
Miranda gestures to the bottles behind her, “I can make anything as long as we have the ingredients. What do you usually drink?”
He doesn’t.
“Do you have anything…” Mike’s cheeks are heating, he can feel it, it’s making him feel dumb, “…non-alcoholic?”
Miranda doesn’t judge his inability to order quickly. It helps.
“Yeah, I can do virgin drinks. What were you thinking?”
God, all these questions. He doesn’t like turning down free shit, but he’s starting to feel tempted to.
“What’s popular?”
“Piña Coladas and Strawberry Daiquiris are the most popular virgin drinks, but we also have fountain drinks if that sounds better.”
“Strawberry Daiquiris are good, they’re like slushies.” You interject.
Mike orders a Strawberry Daiquiri.
When Miranda leaves, Mike feels like he can breathe again.
Mike wonders, if you notice the nervousness behind the way he’s crossing his arms, because you smile, and tell him that he looks nice in a button-down.
Miranda returns with free drinks before he can think himself into a hernia.
Abby would like the Strawberry Daiquiri.
For the rest of the night, Miranda makes stops at yours and Mike’s corner of the bar.
Miranda’s presence made Mike uncomfortable at first, because he doesn’t know her, but your friend pulls him into conversations in ways that he doesn’t mind.
It helps that Mike likes how you look at him when Miranda asks him a question.
He likes how you’re paying attention to him, even when your friend is right in front of you.
Miranda comes out from behind the bar when you mention that it’s getting late.
She gives you a hug first, then she shakes Mike's hand.
Her touch makes him think of your palms.
When the two of you get home, it’s just a little past 10 p.m.
Mike wants to thank you, for showing him a place like that, and for spending your evening with him.
He didn’t have to spend the night cooped up, worrying himself into a frenzy, because you brought him out.
The gratitude gets stuck in his throat.
What does he say? Hey, thanks for spending a night around me! Let’s do it again sometime!
Well, sure, he could say that, but he would rather stay quiet.
He doesn’t want to come off too strong, he doesn’t want to give you a peek into the meat of him.
He’s surprised when you say something.
“Thank you for coming out. I had fun.”
The words come out a little awkwardly, like you’re unsure.
Mike’s eyes find yours, and the little smile in the corner of your lips makes him feel better - despite the quiet house.
He licks his lips and offers you a similar small grin, “Yeah, Me too.”
And he means it.
A/N: Although I feel conflicted about this chapter, I’m very thankful for the love you’ve given me on the previous two!
I hope you enjoyed!
#fnaf movie#mike schmidt x reader#mike schmidt x you#fnaf#mike schmidt#five nights at freddy's#josh hutcherson#josh hutchinson
503 notes
·
View notes
Text
Geto Suguru NSFW Alphabet
Edit: if you enjoy, please let me know! I love little comments and messages left in the tags ^_^
A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)
When it comes to Aftercare Suguru is very reverent and routine in his practice. If the two of you are doing a particularly rough or draining scene he prefers to have aftercare items laid out in advance. The basics like water,snacks,wipes,etc but also more sensory based things to bring you back like a candle to smell or something to squish, something to bring you back from subspace. If the sex you’re having is more vanilla he will still water you,feed you,then cuddle you to sleep. He always makes sure that you’re asleep first before he does 🥺
B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)
I’m not sure if this counts as a body part but I'm a big believer that Suguru takes a lot of pride in his hair and how healthy he keeps it. Homie is all about those hair masks,regular trims and maybe just MAYBE you got him sleeping with a silk bonnet. His favorite part of you has to be between your tummy,ass and thighs. What can I say? Suguru likes them well fed, thickums. He wants to see the shape of your ass in the matching Kimonos he got you two 💀. He’s also just a little freak and it makes him feral when you squeeze your thighs around his head 😭
C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)
I think he cums a moderate amount? Lmao I don’t know if that’s the correct way to say it but it’s just like an average amount. I think the consistency is on the thinner side and it’s got that translucent milky color. He prefers to cum inside but it also gets him going to spill over your mound and like in between your lips. He also likes when he fucks you so hard you cream around the base because it always looks the prettiest in pictures.
D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
This little freak. This absolute little freak. Amongst all of his little fantasies, the one that has him groaning and spilling over his fist the fastest is domming both you and Satoru. The thought of having his little lover and the strongest on their knees for him gives him such a headrush that he has to lay down after he cums or he’ll pass out. He would never let this fantasy see the light of day
Unless you bring it up 👀
E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)
He’s experienced in the way of lots of sex with a few partners rather than multiple partners so he hasn’t tried EVERYTHING but he’s honed the skill set he has.
F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)
Face down ass up arch PRECISE!!! He wants your face smushed into a pillow and if he’s feeling generous he’ll let you keep your hands free. He can be merciful sometimes.
G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)
I wouldn’t say he’s completely serious all the time during sex, if something humorous happens he’ll laugh but he’s not going out of his way to be funny or anything. He wants you to be comfortable so he has a calming silence to him.
H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)
He keeps things neat. A nice close trim for his own preferences but even when it grows out the hairs are fine and rather soft so it’s not really a bother anyways.
I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)
He’s a romantic at heart but he’s a pretty quiet lover. He’s the type to be thrusting into you in missionary,brushing your hair out of your face and littering kisses over your cheeks and neck. If he’s particularly overwhelmed by pleasure or he’s having a bad day, he’ll bury his face in your neck and let out the cutest little pants while his hands are bruising your hips, mumbling incoherently about how much he loves you. If you can hear him over your own moans, he whimpers occasionally.
J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)
His sex drive is pretty middleground so if you’re around he doesn’t really feel the need to jerk off. When he does, it's much more utilitarian so he’s trying to get off as quickly as possible. He’s not a fan of porn, not when he’s got so many photos of you saved to get off too. If he’s feeling more self indulgent he’ll sit and set the scene for one of his fantasies.
K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)
He’s a kinky boy. BDSM is very high on his list in every aspect. He’s dominant. He enjoys being dominant and he’s always preferred submissive partners--Suguru loves a crybaby--because he loves feeling needed and nothing makes his dick harder than a whining sub clinging onto him and begging to cum.
Dacryphilia is another one, he used to be slightly ashamed of this one but he can’t help but feel his stomach tighten and his breath hitch when your whines turn into broken sobs. If he’s got you on your back and you’re looking at him with tear filled eyes, he’s going to put a baby in you. Periodt point blank, that’s a threat and a promise.
Suguru is also into primal prey. I’ve already mentioned that he tends to get power highs when domming, but the thought of hunting you down and fucking you actually makes his heart stutter. The pride in catching you, the complete domination, it gives him the sense of satisfaction that almost nothing else can. The fear on your face, the flicker in your cursed energy that you’re not even aware of. You’ve got a blinking target on your back and you don’t even know it. And he likes to mess with you, he likes to make you think you’re winning. He’s got such quiet feet and he moves so fast from years of training that one minute he’s there,the next he’s gone and soon you’re pinned on your front in the dirt with your panties ripped and being drilled into.
L = Location (favorite places to do the do)
He’s a simple man and honestly just wants to fuck in the comfort of his home. Now inside the house, nowhere is off limits. He’s fucked you on the table,on the couch,bent over the dryer,in the middle of the hallway 😭
He doesn’t care bro
M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)
I mentioned this a bit earlier but he really likes when you’re needy for him. Like Suguru loves a needy,clingy,crybaby sub who’s gonna act like his shadow. He also really loves when you take what you want from him. He gets off on seeing you so flustered on his lap, grinding in little circles and whining for him to just flip you over and fuck you.
N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)
He doesn’t like bodily fluids besides cum and in the right circumstances blood.
O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)
He is a MUNCH!!! Suguru is a munch and he is proud of it. He’s eating pussy AND ass and he’s very much so giving aht aht aht move your hand. He will have you in that bed for hours on end eating you out for his own pleasure. You are not leaving unless you safeword or he’s done.
P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)
Suguru is a complete wild card but usually since he has so much patience, he fucks hard and slow. Really deep thrusts that jostle your entire body and have you gripping the sheets. If you want him to go faster you have to beg for it.
Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)
He is not a fan of quickies because he likes to take his time and really take you apart. But he’s a little whipped so if you beg for it you’re getting fucked alright 🙂
You won’t be walking afterwards but you’re gonna get fucked
R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)
He takes risks within both of your boundaries, but nothing too crazy. If anything has the possibility to cause either of y’all physical harm it’s an immediate veto because you’re his number one priority.
S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)
Oh Suguru? Mister first grade sorcerer? He can go as many rounds as you can take. His self control is pretty good so he tries his best to make you cum before he does. If he does somehow cum before you do, he’s immediately pulling out and finishing you off anyway you want.
T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)
You two have a plethora of different sex toys. He had a humble collection before he met you but now there is definitely chest kept in the bedroom with a padlock because SOME guests(Satoru) are too nosy for their own good 🙄
“Suguru, what does this do?”
“You don’t want to know”
He has some of the basics like vibes,ropes,and paddles. But he also has nipple clamps,chastity belts and whips.
He likes to keep an array of things on deck.
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)
Oh he’s absolutely the worst. He loves to tease you because he just thinks you’re so fucking cute when you’re whining and begging.
V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)
It depends but he tends to be on the softer side of sounds. He has a naturally soft voice so his moans are breathy and he lets out little sighs and whimpers. When he’s close he tends to bite his lip and let out noises that couldn’t pay him to admit to. He definitely groans when he’s getting head and purrs low in his throat. Different types of stimulation make different sounds.
W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)
This is my bisexual king and he’s a power bottom. He’s not letting you top, but in the past he’s definitely taken both dicks and straps. He’s secure in himself and prostate orgasms are nice 🤷🏽♀️
X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)
I’m feeling like he’s a good 7-8in in length? Like that’s just the vibe he gives. He definitely doesn’t have the biggest dick in the JJK verse but he’s definitely up there in the top 5. Tan shaft and a tip that flushes red when he’s hard.
Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)
I mentioned earlier but his sex drive is very in the middle. He gets the horny zoomies sometimes where he’ll jump you in the hallway and take you like a cheap whore. But he usually likes to plan and have structured scenes thought out.
Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
He needs you to be asleep before him. It’s his own thing, but once you’re safely tucked into bed, bathed,fed,watered and asleep he can finally feel like his job as a dom and boyfriend is complete. He will quite literally not be capable of rest until you’re snoring.
#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen#jjk#jjk smut#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen smut#jjk headcanons#jjk x y/n#jujustu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen headcanons#geto suguru x reader#geto suguru#geto suguru smut#jujutsu kaisen geto#jjk x reader smut#gojo mention
333 notes
·
View notes
Text
@jegulus-microfic april 1 - spring - 1340 words (of domestic bliss with little harry)
Sundays are slow in the Potter household.
One would think James doesn’t like the pace of it, always having to do something usually, always active, moving around or talking, tugging at his loved ones or caressing their skin, but he does. It hasn’t always been this way but with getting older and especially since they’ve become parents James had noticed how his body and mind welcomed the one break in the week to just shut off and recharge.
They’ve fought their way through a cloudy March and with the arrival of April, spring is finally here.
James loves spring. People always assume it’s summer—and credit to them, because he does—but there’s just something about the rebirth of everything that comes after the long gloomy fall and icey winter period. The birds chirp with their return and in search for a mate, insects buzz lively and everything brightens with colour.
Like clockwork, Harry appears in the threshold of the master bedroom at around 7 am, deer plushie in a tight grip by the antlers, his dark mob of hair messy as anything. He drowsily rubs the sleep from his eyes, face squished and James sometimes thinks he might die from how adorable their four year old is.
He grabs his glasses, pushes back the sheets and plants a gentle kiss on Regulus’ cheek where he’s still knocked out like the dead and smushed into his pillow.
Harry pads wordlessly into the living room, James hot on his trail. Though while Harry goes in search of a children’s book for James to read to him, James makes a detour to the kitchen. He fills them two bottles with the tea they let out on the counter overnight, preparing one for Regulus as well for when he wakes up. He cuts up some fruit and vegetables and grabs the packets of rice cakes and crackers from the pantry, loading it all on a tray before he sets on to the living room.
Harry is already curled under the big fleece blanket they keep there, grinning when James rounds the corner with their pre-breakfast.
“Morning, dada,” he greets, sweetly.
James’ chest swells. “Morning, pumpkin,” he returns, pressing a kiss into Harry’s hair, setting down the tray. Before he takes his place next to his son he walks over to open the big terrasse glass doors.
“How’d you sleep?” James asks, plopping down next to Harry who immediately snuggles closer, plushie still in hand.
“Good,” Harry sighs contently and James can’t help himself when he brushes some of his hair back from his forehead and kisses him again. “Can you read to me?”
It’s a hidden object book but James knows what he means. He grins, “’Course, Hazza.”
They do just that for a bit, James describing what’s going on on the pages, creating a story for recurring characters. Skipping back and forth with Harry randomly pointing out another happening of the drawing while he’s munching away on his rice cakes and cucumbers and the occasional grape.
It’s still mildly cool, especially when a faint breeze picks up, moving the grass outside and swishing inside but Harry’s still wearing long pyjamas and James knows he’ll tell him if he’s too cold. He simply burrows further under the blanket and into his father’s side. James runs hot anyways.
When Harry decides they’re done with books James puts on a nature documentary for them.
They’re teaching about the strength of some rainforest ant species when Regulus shuffles into the room, arms wrapped around himself and eyes nearly closed.
“Morning, Papa,” Harry whispers excitedly, already wiggling out of James’ embrace even though he knows Regulus will join them there in just a moment.
A smile tugs at Regulus’ lips as he blinks his eyes open, dark lashes fluttering agonisingly beautifully and giving way to soft grey. James swears they get a little more blue every time right around his birthday, like Regulus is just another subject to the changes of spring.
“Mornin’,” Regulus sighs happily when he squeezes Harry against his chest, peppering the side of his head with kisses until he pulls away, tugging Regulus along to James.
His eyes are already closed again when Regulus nuzzles into the crook of James’ neck, pressing a kiss there before he gets comfortable.
“Morning, love,” James murmurs, voice thick with adoration, audible even to himself, and he strokes Regulus’ exposed arm softly.
The spell of Sunday is thick in the air, heavy in their bones.
Harry, usually the most lively child, always animatedly talking about something or the other, giggling, making jokes or doing mischief, is quiet now too. It’s routine, the way he grabs for Regulus’ arm and squeezes between his two dads, waiting for James to absently card his fingers through their hair and send them back to their slumbers.
It doesn’t take longer than five minutes before Harry’s breaths are deepening and it’s marvellous. Magical in the way that Regulus’ presence seems to calm him so much it pulls him back into another nap.
James smiles so wide, looking down at them like that for so long that his cheeks start straining.
He watches a bit more of the documentary, snaps a few obligatory pictures of them on his phone and sends them into their family group chat. Monty sends back a pixelated picture of a zoomed in shot of Effie in the garden, Sirius replies with a shaky snapshot of him running with the dogs and Remus answers with an aesthetically pleasing picture of what seems to be the breakfast he’s preparing for the two of them.
James’ belly growls hungrily at the reminder and when his gaze falls on the lone grape sitting in the bowl on the tray he decides it’s time for breakfast.
It’s nothing short of artful the way he extracts himself from besides Harry and Regulus without rousing them before he heads for the kitchen.
He grabs flour and sugar, eggs and milk for pancakes, as well as the bacon, bagles and cream cheese. It’s meditative to put together all the ingredients, set the table and assemble syrup and blueberries and chocolate chips. Halfway through James remembers the leftover quinoa in the fridge and between placing patches of batter in a sizzling pan he whips them up a quick salad as well.
The smell in the kitchen is divine and James has already made acquaintances with the joyful bluetit in the tree by the window by the time Regulus comes into the kitchen with Harry on his hip. He’s babbling now, talking Regulus’ ear off by the looks of it and Regulus hums and nods and gasps at all the right places, looking ridiculously endearing with his curls mussed and an imprint of the couch cushion lining his cheek.
“Morning, champ,” James teases, smacking a loud kiss over the line in Regulus’ cheek.
Regulus growls quietly, grinning despite himself, “You’re lucky I love your cooking so much.”
“Yeah, you’re lucky,” Harry parrots, grinning widely.
James tuts with faux affront, “What kind of sentiments are you teaching our poor child, Regulus. I’ve been standing in this kitchen for hours now. How about a ‘Thank you, daddy’?”
“Thank you, daddy,” they both reply in unison though Regulus’ has a decidedly different tone to it that makes James point the spatula at him in warning.
Regulus just smirks before he leans heavily into James’ side and rips a piece of pancake off of the ones already on a plate, blowing on it before dividing it in half and feeding it to Harry and himself.
James tasks them with setting out glasses of water and orange juice, mugs for tea. On Sundays coffee is banned in the Potter house. Regulus thinks he can wind himself out of his caffeine addiction that way.
When everyone is done and everything is in place they all sit down together, legs tangled under the table, smiling warmly at each other over their plates of delicious food, the spring breeze ruffling their hair and clothes pleasantly as it drifts through the open window.
#jegulus raising harry#jegulus#jegulus microfic#jegulus fic#starchaser#sunseeker#jegulus fluff#james potter#regulus black#kid harry potter#toddler harry potter#james potter x regulus black#regulus black x james potter#lune’s tiny fic
348 notes
·
View notes
Note
Can you do the arcane milfs with a fem s/o and they react to her flinching after a small argument? Like they are going to run their fingers through their hair and she thinks they’re gonna hit her? And just hurt/comfort type thing. If you don’t want to do this that’s completely fine. Thank you 🤍
Arcane milfs when their S/O flinches during an argument
At first, SEVIKA doesn't understand why you flinched away like that. She knows that she can be angry and stubborn sometimes and when you two argue, it's frustrating for the both of you. She goes to run her hand through her hair in an attempt to cool off, but her heart drops when she sees you flinch at her movement. Cue her sad puppy eyes, the look that she gives you tugs at your heartstrings. She knows she's a brute, but she needs you to be aware of the fact that she'd rather die than ever lay a hand on you. Sevika sits down on the couch and pats the space next to her, signaling for you to have a seat. When you do, she hesitantly wraps a comforting arm around your shoulders, pulling your face to rest in the crook of her neck. You can feel the way her lips press a lingering kiss into your hair before she leans down to whisper comforting words into your ear.
''I'm so sorry, baby. I shouldn't have lost my cool. You know I'd never hurt you, right? I'd rather die than have that happen. I'm sorry I scared you, I promise you we'll get through this. It's okay, I've got you now and I'll kill whoever dared to raise their hand against you. No matter how many times we argue, I'll always protect you and keep you safe, my sweet girl.''
GRAYSON knows, she knows that you're just worried for her and that you don't mean to burden her. But she had a long day, Marcus annoying her to hell and back, her other co-workers nagging at her and the troubles in the Undercity are growing every day. She's tired and she just wants to sleep with you in her arms. But you're sitting next to her on the couch, scolding her for not taking care of herself. Grayson talks back to you, irritation in her voice evident, asking you to get off her back for once. She doesn't mean it, she hates raising her tone at you and as soon as she realizes her mistake, Grayson lets out a deep sigh and goes to run a hand through her hair. Just as she does that, she notices the way you flinch and it takes her no less than a second to realize what happened. Oh, now she feels even worse. Has she been neglecting you and brushing you off so much lately, that you're afraid she might hurt you? Immediately pulls you into her embrace, letting your head rest on her chest as tears gather in her eyes. Work be damned, she needs to remind her wife how much she loves her and, above all, Grayson must work on her communication and make up for lost time.
''Oh, darling, I wasn't- Oh, come here, please. I am so sorry, I shouldn't have raised my voice at you like that. I know you only want the best for me and how much you try to keep me safe and healthy. I wish the same for you, I'm sorry that I haven't been good to you, my love. I love you so so much and I'll work on myself so I can show it to you properly. Let me hold you for a bit, please. I'm sorry I scared you, it won't happen again, I promise.''
CASSANDRA loves you dearly, and never fails to show you that. No matter how busy she is, she always makes time for you and pays attention to anything and everything you might need. Usually, she loves listening to you ramble about your interests, but today has just been so exhausting and she can feel a migraine brewing. You notice her tense posture and try to lighten up the mood by making small talk, albeit being a bit vary of her annoyed expression. When Cassandra sighs loudly and lifts her hand up to rub her forehead, you cannot fight the slight flinch that takes over your body. Cassandra looks over at you with a shocked expression, ashamed that she made you feel scared in her presence. She gestures softly for you to lay your head in her lap, caressing your hair comfortingly once you do so. As soon as she feels better, she plans on taking you on a lovely date to make up for her behavior. It's not your fault that her fellow Councilors are incompetent, you're her darling girl and she knows that you're just trying to make her feel better.
''Oh, sweetheart, come here. Lay your head on my lap... Yes, just like that. I'm sorry, my darling, it's been a long day at work but that is no excuse for me to treat you like that. I apologize for scaring you, you know I'd never do anything to hurt you, yes? Good, I only want you to be happy and healthy, beloved. How about tomorrow, we go on a lovely outing, just you and me? Perfect, I'll make sure we have fun and forget about every little thing that might trouble us. Let us rest now, my love.''
AMBESSA is well aware of how other people see her; ruthless, cunning and a brute. But she doesn't want you to view her like that, she'd rather give over her power than do anything to scare you. But being so used to putting on a frightening and merciless face in front of others, it eventually shows briefly when she's with you. Fights between the two of you happen occasionally, as Ambessa still struggles with balancing and maintaining a romantic relationship. She forgets herself sometimes and her feelings can be hard to reveal, even to you. She knows that you've been more than patient with her but she herself isn't that kind of a person and as she huffs angrily in the midst of your argument, she raises her hand swiftly to run it over her face in frustration. Even in all her anger, Ambessa couldn't miss the way you flinched at her movement, her once cold heart now breaking at the sight. She sits on your shared bed numbly, taking your hands in hers and looking up at you with sorrowful eyes. Ambessa gives you an honest and tear-jerking apology, assuring you that she loves you and she'd never do anything to bring you harm. You're her only light in this cruel, dark world.
''What have I done? My dear, you know I'd never... Well, I suppose you don't, especially with how I've been acting towards you. There aren't enough words in existence to tell you how sorry I am. No matter how closed off I am with my own feelings, it's never an excuse to take it out on you. You're the only good thing I have, the only person who can ground me and I promise to treat you right from now on. I'm sorry I failed in doing that, my beloved. But I promise I'll change, for you. Because you're worth it.''
#arcane#arcane x reader#arcane headcanons#sevika x reader#arcane sevika#grayson x reader#cassandra kiramman x reader#ambessa x reader#arcane grayson x reader#ambessa medarda x reader#arcane milfs
533 notes
·
View notes
Text
The Inbetween (Tendou x Reader)
masterlist | ao3
Pairing: Tendou x Reader
Summary: You and Tendou have been best friends since before you can remember. You share everything with each other and over the years have fallen into a friendship with clear boundaries but intimate values. When you start to notice Tendou growing more distant, you begin to worry that he’s keeping more secrets than you thought.
"Tendou gets like this sometimes. He grows quiet for a few moments as if he is weighing something in his mind. You can see the inquisitive look in his eyes and every now and then, his bottom lip will bounce and it will tell you that he’s thinking about something. In these moments, you’re never quite sure what he’s thinking. You’ve never been able to tell and you’ve reserved yourself to thinking that it is not meant for you or for anyone else."
Content Warnings: fem!reader (gender neutral pronouns but there is a line that references you as his girlfriend), it does include manga spoilers since this takes place after they graduate high school, slow burn, childhood friends to lovers, angst in the middle, miscommunication, smut, fingering, oral (f!receiving), orgasm denial (just once), teasing, minor minor cockwarming (he lets it sit there for a little lol), there's no real mention of protection
Word Count: 25.8k (lol)
A/N: I decided not to break this fic up because I wrote it intending for it to be one piece. It ended up way longer than i thought it would be. I'm posting it all here, but I would def recommend reading it on ao3 if you prefer!!! i'm a little nervous about this one. i really struggled while i was writing it. i love him so bad tho... he's always a joy to write <333 hopefully i didn't miss too many typos. anyway, its finally here lol so i hope u enjoy <3
You think that there are periods of your life where growing pains become impossible to ignore. The change tends to hurt. Like rebreaking a bone to help it heal correctly. When you’re 8 and in bed, unable to sleep because your legs ache somewhere deep in your bones. When you’re 16 and you can’t seem to ever feel like something really fits, like you’re not doing a good enough job at being good enough.
Sometimes, they’re agonizing. The steady roll of dull pain that you can’t quite pinpoint, sending you anxious and aching in a way you can’t quite verbalize.
Sa-to-ri: U wanna get drunk tonight?
You: Not particularly.
Sa-to-ri: k
Tendou shows up at your apartment forty-five minutes later with two bottles of wine. He lets himself in, holding the both of them in one hand, his long fingers curled around the necks of the bottles. It looks assured but precarious and you watch as he shoves his keys back into his pocket, takes a bottle in each hand, and kicks your front door shut with a flat foot.
“Thought I told you I didn’t wanna drink tonight?” You call from the couch, craning your neck to face him.
Tendou is looking at his shoes as he slips them off, watching as he goes heel to toe and slides them past the curve of his foot. Then, he tilts his head up and looks at you with a lazy grin. He’s at ease here, padding into your house.
He has a particular gait about him. When Tendou walks, he sways side to side as if the length of his limbs is too much to control and his head tends to follow. He leans one way and then the other, confident in his step but wobbling nonetheless. If you had to compare him to anything, it would be a more confident version of one of those floppy blue pillars that jerk back and forth at car sales on TV. You’re not sure what they’re called, but Tendou’s step reminds you of them.
“I know you well enough to know that you’re a liar, you borderline alcoholic, you.” He smiles, sitting down on the couch beside you with a grunt and passing you one of the bottles.
“No glasses?” You quirk a brow.
“Absolutely not.” He twists the lid of the wine bottle off and tilts the spout towards you. Tendou always buys cheap wine so that you never have to worry about uncorking it. “Cheers.”
You roll your eyes, twisting the lid off of your own bottle and clink the neck of it against his. It gives a high-pitched click when you do, the sound short and succinct with how full the bottles are.
“Cheers.”
“Can we watch Evangelion?” He asks almost immediately, leaning forward to reach for the remote in your hand.
“Jesus, what on earth makes you want to get drunk and watch Evangelion?” You hold it away from his grabbing hand. “Are you insane?”
Tendou chuckles, “I think it would be interesting.”
“I think it sounds stupid. You’re just asking for an identity crisis.” You roll your eyes, setting the remote down on the other side of you.
You bring the bottle of wine to your lips. It’s a Moscato, overly sweet and the slightest bit fizzy. Tendou likes these kinds of wines. The ones that don’t taste like alcohol at all. He watches as you sip it before bringing his own bottle to his lips, curling them around the spout of it and taking a long pull from the bottle.
You’ve known Tendou since you were 13 and he’s always been like this. He likes sweets, anything with enough sugar to make a normal person pull a face. He likes weird music, the kind that makes him the least eligible person to be in control of music on long car rides. He hates tomatoes but forces himself to eat them anyway because it “builds character” and he never fails to treat it like he’s suffering through some great trauma.
Tendou, for as long as you’ve known him, has always been like a breath of fresh air after a long day inside. Either that or loud music emanating from a comically small car.
“How’s your boyfriend?” He asks, taking another sip.
“Dead.”
“For real?”
“To me,” you finish, rolling your head to the side and looking at him.
Tendou huffs, leaning further back into the seat. “Need a shoulder to cry on?”
“No, he was a cunt.��
“I’ll drink to that,” he raises his bottle as if to salute someone far away and brings it to his mouth again. “How long did this one last?”
“A month,” you heave a sigh.
“New record,” Tendou chuckles to himself.
“What is wrong with me?” You swallow a large sip, exhaling as you do. “It’s like- It’s like I’m just dicking around!”
“Well, are you?”
“No!” You rub your palms into your eyes. “I mean, I find a guy, I go out with him, and then… I lose interest or he turns out to be a total tool.”
“Or married,” Tendou adds, taking another sip.
“Or married,” You confirm, following suit.
“I knew you wanted to drink.” Tendou gives you a wry grin. The corners of his lips pull up pleasantly and his voice takes on a lower and more knowing tone.
“Shush, it’s only ‘cause you’re doing it.”
“Peer pressure really works wonders.”
You smile, scoffing lightly as you pull the bottle from your lips. It pops when you do, pressure releasing from how you’d been sipping.
Tendou offers you a smile, the kind that you’re so familiar with that it aches. He rolls his head across his shoulders, letting it rest on the back of the couch cushions.
“Maybe you just haven’t found the right person for you.” He says, half to himself as he lifts the bottle.
“Maybe.” You agree, “or maybe I’m just eternally cursed. Maybe I’ve got a rotten bloodline.”
His eyes slink across his lower waterline to look at you.
“I doubt that.” He laughs and you can’t help but smile.
Tendou has a certain way about him. If you know him well enough, he is reassuring to the point of relaxation. He never fails to comfort you in moments of need, winding you down on days you feel particularly tight.
He seems like someone who knows everything. Tendou feels like he’s got it all figured out and when you talk to him he maintains a certain confident air that is pleasant to be around. Sometimes it feels like Tendou knows you better than you know yourself and you’re grateful that at least someone does. He maintains that particular aura about him and you think that it belongs to him like it does no other.
Tonight he seems particularly mellow, lounging comfortably on your couch. You eventually give in to Tendou, resigning yourself to watching Evangelion with him, and he seems content to just sit beside you and watch.
His arm is tossed over the back of the couch, the other nursing the half-empty bottle of wine. You follow the line of it with your eyes, lingering for a moment on the curve of his knuckles, flushed pink against the pale color of his skin.
You follow his fingers, admiring the ways his skin is pulled taut over them. They’re long like he is, spanning the entire top of the couch cushion short ways. His wrists are thinner, the bones of his fingers coming to connect nicely where his lower arm meets his hand. You admire the even quality of his skin, following the lines of lean muscle up to his shoulder. Muscle and sinew form a trail up his arm, tucking itself away under the sleeve of his sweatshirt where it hides until the fabric meets the delicate skin of his collarbones. You watch his neck, his pronounced Adam’s apple bobbing slightly when he swallows at particularly nerve-wracking scenes. Still, he keeps a slight smirk on his face. It’s like he’s glad to just be here, eyes low-lidded as he peers at the TV.
By the top hem of his sweatshirt, you can see the beginnings of his collarbones and you know that beneath it, he is hiding an evenly toned chest. You can imagine the familiar dip and curve of his abdomen, his pale, almost sallow, skin stretched evenly over it. Tendou is all lean muscle. He’s built tall and long and you’ve seen the somewhat toned physique he hides beneath the thick cloth of the red sweatshirt. Still, you know that to the touch he is soft. Tendou has some give to him from the sweets he eats so regularly but, like the rest of him, you think it is beautiful.
You follow the trail to his neck where he has a few freckles, three to be exact. One sits above his collarbone, the other on the tendon that connects his neck to his head, and the third just below his ear, covered right now by his dark red hair which collects around his neck. It’s as if the sun deliberately placed them there, dotting up the fine muscle as if it were Orion’s Belt glimmering across the winter and spring sky.
His hair is at his shoulders now, unruly and almost unmanageable on most mornings. At the moment, it sits delicately just above his shoulders, collecting in what looks like pools on either side of them. Normally, Tendou ties it up to keep it out of his face. Tonight, he’s keeping it down, letting the wavy tufts of dark hair hide the blushing nape of his neck from you, red from the wine.
Tendou’s face is long, you follow the trail his neck makes to his cheekbones. They’re high, complimenting his somewhat soft jaw nicely. His cheeks maintain a delicate pink tone, barely visible unless you look closer but aided tonight by the flush of wine. When he’s embarrassed, this quality shines red regardless. Tendou, in his more shy moments, lights up like a switchboard.
Just above his cheekbones, Tendou sports light under eye bags. They are partially from being tired, but you also know that they are owed simply to the quality of his face. Tendou has distinct upper eyelids. They crease heavily when his eyes are open and you’d almost describe them as somewhat hawk-like if it weren’t for their round nature.
Tendou stays up late at night. His job as a bartender keeps him working until the early hours of the morning and you know from texts he’s sent you that he takes a few hours after to unwind before going to bed. Sometimes he’ll play games, spurred on by Kenma’s gaming channel, but he always loses interest in them after a few weeks. Tendou keeps his interests and hobbies short and sweet, though you don’t think that diminishes their value to him. No, in fact, you think that it means that Satori has a lot of things that he loves. Still, this latest love of his has contributed to the dark under eyes he seems to sport around the clock.
Part of you knows that’s just how he looks, but the other part thinks that if he went to bed earlier, that quality would lessen. You’ll never tell him that though. You quite like that quality of his. It’s distinctive, as most of his features are.
Then, you shift your gaze down to his mouth. Tendou has a thin upper lip which—when combined with his all-knowing eyes—makes him look a little scary. His bottom lip, however, is full and pink. When he’s thinking, it moves slightly. It bounces as if Tendou is rehearsing what he wants to say, running through his thoughts at a mile a minute. You believe it to be endearing and Tendou, who has never been particularly vain, thinks that if you think so, it must be.
All of these things are things you’ve come to know about Tendou since you met him. You’re accustomed to his body language, comfortable (unlike so many others) with his gait and the way he moves. You think that there is only one other person in the world who is as comfortable with him as you are and that is Ushijima Wakatoshi, someone you both met in high school. He, like you, is someone that Tendou clicks with like a piece of a puzzle.
He talks to Wakatoshi every night on the phone. They talk about their lives, maybe about girls. Wakatoshi usually just listens though. What Tendou cannot say to you, he says to him and you’re not nosy enough to pry. You’re positive that whatever you need to know, Tendou will tell. When you finally stand and go to the other room to get ready for bed, you can hear him through the thin wall, talking quietly into the phone so as to not disturb your nighttime routine.
You pad between your bedroom and the bathroom, occasionally passing close enough for Tendou to catch you in the corner of his eye. He raises his hand or his eyebrows when that happens, swiveling his head to acknowledge you as he leans back against the couch cushions, one arm thrown over the back and the other holding his phone to his ear.
The fan hums to life when you flip the light switch in the bathroom. Sometimes you wish they’d be separate switches because when the apartment is quiet the noise is jarring and disorienting, but today the sound is just another addition to the symphony of noise in your home. It whirs softly as you put on a headband and run the sink, letting the water get warm before splashing it up onto your face.
You take your cleanser, pumping some of it into your hand, and slather it onto your skin in soft circles. The motion is familiar and you feel the way your shoulders relax a little as the cleanser turns white with foam against your skin. When you are ready to rinse, you dip your head down, cupping water in your hands and splashing it onto your face.
“You always do that so messily,” Tendou chimes from beside you.
You jump, flinching to the side as you wipe the cleanser from your eyes quickly, “Jesus, you scared me.”
“Sorry,” he chuckles, leaning against the doorway.
Tendou is lithe like a cat. He’s long and slender, his body nearly dwarfing the doorway he stands in. His shoulder presses against the white wood and he crosses his arms pleasantly over his chest, hovering just outside of your space.
He watches with a content smile, eyes half closed as sleep starts to take over him. The corners of his mouth pull up curiously and his eyes follow the movements of your face as you gently rinse it with warm water. Occasionally, he will act like you’ve flicked water on him, raising his shoulder lightly as if to shield himself from it, and you scowl in response.
“Move over,” he says as he steps around you and nudges your hip with his own.
Tendou slides in front of the sink beside you, grabbing one of your headbands and using it to push his hair back. It swishes when he does, revealing the rest of his forehead before he takes some water and wets his face. Then, he takes your cleanser and copies your previous movements, scrubbing his face lightly before dipping down and rinsing it. You watch, fighting the heat that bullies its way to your cheeks.
He’s a lot cleaner at this than you are, cupping the water in his big hands and lowering his face to rinse it. His eyes flutter closed, lashes batting slightly before he pushes his fingers against his skin and then wipes downwards. A few stray drops of water roll down his forearms, following the path his lean muscles make until they drop onto your bathroom counter. For how lanky he is, the movement is strangely graceful and you watch with a tilted head as he repeats the process. It keeps the counters relatively dry and when he’s done, the only evidence of his having washed it at all are the few drops of water on the counter and the clean quality of his skin.
Tendou peers at you through the corner of his eye, smiling lightly as he stands to his full height and grabs his toothbrush from the holder. He keeps one here now. Given the amount of time he spends here, it only makes sense.
Sometimes you think that the intimacy the two of you share is too much. Sometimes it is difficult to reconcile that you could be this close to a person but Tendou is someone who begs closeness. No, he demands it. Tendou is as affectionate as he is adoring. Intimacy, be it platonic or romantic, becomes him and though you sometimes worry if things can continue like this, you quickly forget it in favor of simply being close.
To an outsider, Tendou has the feel of someone very far away. You’ve heard from acquaintances that he seems aloof and somewhat cocky, though you think that only the latter half is true. Tendou is particularly involved, however distanced he may seem. It comes with intimacy. He remembers almost every little thing about the people he loves. Should you visit the same restaurant twice, Tendou remembers what you ordered and if you enjoyed it. Should you be deciding between one shirt or the other, Tendou will recall what you already own and suggest the best possible option. He’s attentive like that.
“This face wash is new,” he comments, running a knuckle along the side of his cheek as if to feel how effective it is.
“Yeah, my skin got used to the other,” you shrug your shoulders, popping your toothbrush into your mouth.
“What does that even mean?” He laughs. Tendou’s voice is warbled through his toothpaste. It sounds thick, the tenor ring of it dropping to a baritone hum through the thick white foam.
“Dunno,” you shrug, “pretty sure it’s just a wives tale or something but I still believe it.”
Tendou laughs again, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he leans forward and spits into the sink. You follow suit, waiting for him to pick his head up and continue brushing. The toothbrush looks smaller than usual in his hand, his long fingers curled around it as he guides it over his teeth, spitting for a second time and then reaching for your mouthwash.
“You sleeping over?” You ask, taking the bottle when he hands it to you.
Tendou nods his response, swishing the liquid back and forth in his mouth. Then he leans forward and the smell of winter mint hits your nose. Honestly, you don’t much like the taste or smell of it, but you’ve found that it keeps your mouth feeling fresh for the longest. Besides, you don’t mind it as much when it’s on Tendou. For some reason, the smell suits him.
You’re relieved to find the reprieve of your bed. It hasn’t been a particularly busy day, but the wine is getting to your head. It makes you sleepy and your duvet cover feels far more comfortable than usual.
Tendou usually sleeps on the bed with you. It’s another facet of the intimacy you share with him. Your bed is large enough to fit the both of you comfortably with a pillow between you, though it almost never stays there the entire night. Both you and Tendou tend to toss around in your sleep and more than once have you woken up with either yours or his body splayed across the other.
Still, you’re only like this when neither of you is in a relationship. Your friendship has always maintained very clear boundaries. There are unspoken dos and don’ts that accompany the closeness of your friendship. If either of you is dating someone, you wordlessly agree that Tendou sleeps on the couch. It’s a respect thing for both of your sakes, as well as the sakes of your partners.
“Are you bummed about your breakup?” Tendou asks, facing the ceiling. He’s no doubt watching the fan spin in circles in the dark. You know because you’re doing the same.
“Not really,” you sigh, “I mean, this might be shitty to say but I really wasn’t all that attached.”
Tendou shakes his head against the pillow, lacing his fingers together over his chest as he lets out a deep exhale. “Nah, it’s not shitty. That’s natural.”
“I guess.”
“Let me know if you do get sad about it, kay?” He says, tilting his head sideways to look at you.
“You’ll be the first to know.”
You smile lightly at him and Tendou hums his satisfaction. He rolls over in bed with a soft goodnight before the room falls silent. You listen to the sound of his breathing and when it finally comes to an even pace, you smile. Sometimes Tendou struggles to sleep but tonight is not one of those nights.
You drift off after you are certain that he’s asleep, lamenting to yourself about the potential loss of his characteristic under eyes. Man, Tendou would really rip you a new one for thinking that.
—
“I like your hair like this,” you comment, reaching up to flip a piece that sits across his cheek.
Tendou turns to you, watching the way your fingers play with the soft end of it before giving a small laugh and a smile.
“Yeah? I feel like it’s too long,” he hums, looking at you and then to the coffee maker as it hums from its place on the counter. “Think m’gonna cut it soon.”
“Nah, don’t. It suits you. Kinda devil-may-care, ya know?”
Tendou’s hair is too long by normal standards. It comes down just below his shoulders, falling in thickly layered wisps that frame his face and make it look delicate. Somehow, having his hair around his face softens his features. It gives him a more gentle, off-beat look.
“Oh? If it makes me look so cool then maybe I won’t,” he glances at you through the corner of his eye, smiling a cat-like smile.
“I wouldn’t go that far,” you snort, bumping him out of the way as soon as he takes his coffee from the coffee maker.
Tendou feigns an offended look before leaning against the counter beside him. He looks sleepy, still somewhat tired as he raises his mug to his lips and loudly sips his coffee. It’s always too hot when he takes the first sip but he does every time nonetheless. Tendou says it tastes better that way.
“By the way,” he starts, pulling the mug to his chest and partially resting it in the dip in his stomach, “I gotta leave right after I finish this.”
“Work?”
Behind you, Tendou shifts a little and furrows his brows. “Nah, got some errands to take care of.”
“‘Kay,” you turn to him, leaning against the counter opposite him.
Despite Tendou’s affinity for skinship and attention, he is surprisingly independent.
That’s something you admire about him. Tendou’s actions are sure and calculated and he’s comfortable going off and doing his own thing more often than not. Sure, he’ll invite you with him, but should you opt not to go, Tendou doesn’t let it stop him. He’s fiercely independent and it balances out well in your friendship.
He doesn’t really say anything about where he’s going and you figure that he doesn’t have to. He’ll go off and do his own thing and you will go do yours.
You and Tendou are quite like-minded, as is Wakatoshi. Perhaps that’s why you all get along so well. When you interact with people, they tend to understand the three of you as independent beings who just so happen to choose to be around the other two. You’ve heard from others that looking at the three of you is like looking at a gaggle of oddities that somehow found themselves magnetic to only each other. Since Wakatoshi moved away though, it has just been you and Tendou and you’re content to be perceived as an odd pair.
The living room is littered with evidence of your evening with him and you peer out at it from the kitchen, the sunlight from your curtains filtering in and casting a warm glow over the light-colored wood. The more than half-empty bottles of wine sit on the coffee table, their lids placed randomly on the countertop from when you’d tossed them down after opening them. The bottles catch the light from the small glass patio door and the white Moscato inside glimmers in the morning glow.
When Tendou leaves, he grabs his keys from your kitchen table. They jingle in his grasp and he shakes them to get your attention.
“I’m leaving now!” He calls even though you’re only a few feet away.
“Have the day you deserve!” You laugh.
Tendou swings your apartment door open, his legs leading the way as he keeps his head around the corner so that he can look at you. You watch as he cracks a smile that spreads from one side of his face to the other, upper lip curling.
“Sour old bat.”
“I’m only 24!” You protest as he chuckles and shuts the door behind him.
You walk to the door, locking it behind him and shaking your head lightly. Briefly, you think about what he might be doing. It could be groceries, though he usually brings you with him, or maybe he needs to service his shitty old car. He never uses it which means that when he does it breaks down easily, but he keeps fixing it nonetheless. Tendou can’t bear to part with the characteristic hunk of junk.
Tendou works as a bartender. He stands behind the counter in a black dress shirt and black slacks, fixing customers' drinks before pressuring them into buying more. He’s good at selling things because Tendou is a notoriously difficult person to say no to, whether you know him or not. Sometimes you’ll go in and see him, sliding into a seat at the bar and waiting for him to notice you’re there. You usually don’t even make it to the counter before he spots you, giving you an easy smile and tilting his head to the side.
You suspect that he is only working to make ends meet while he decides what he really wants to do. You always figured it would be volleyball given his gift for it but he told you in the third year of high school that he’d be quitting. It had never been something he was particularly set on doing and though he enjoys the sport, he thought the constant rigor of its training to be tiresome. You understand to a degree. It is very like Tendou to do things only because he wants to. Even Wakatoshi accepted it after a little while, though—in a fashion that is much like Ushijima—he still pushed for Tendou to further his gift with the sport. It was to no avail though, that’s just the way Satori is.
Still, you’re not sure if there is something in particular that Tendou wants to do. He doesn’t talk much about the future and lately whenever you ask, he waves the question off like he can’t be bothered to think about it.
He has a plethora of interests and for now, his job suits him. He spends his time talking to people and though he works late into the night, you think that he enjoys the time he gets in the hours after his shift. Besides, during the day it means that Satori gets to bake. It’s an odd hobby for him but he does it regularly enough that it has started to make sense, though you’re not sure if it is a fleeting hobby or one that will stick. Tendou likes to play around with flavor. His eye for new combinations is admirable and it’s not a rare occurrence for you to go over to his place and immediately be fed a new recipe he’s been testing out.
He is, in general, a hard person to pin down but once you do, you’ve got him memorized for life. It’s not unusual for you to be able to guess what he’s doing, though sometimes he will surprise you and be doing something entirely different. Still, you’re confident enough in what you know about him to know that once he does choose, it will be good for him. Tendou is someone who begets a good and honest future.
You spend the day tidying around your apartment. You’ve got no particular plans today and with your recent breakup, you’ve no one to really make plans with. In high school, when Tendou was busy without you, you’d often sit with Wakatoshi and watch him practice. You’d listen to the sounds of the ball hitting his palm and then the slap of them on the smooth linoleum of the gym floor. That, or you’d spend your time with the other people you met with the both of them at Nationals, goofing off on the phone while you waited for Tendou to wrap up whatever it was he’s doing and walk home with you.
You’ve been to see them at nationals every year that the two of them have gone. In your third year, Tendou and Wakatoshi did not attend the tournament as players nor spectators, but the three of you sat in Wakatoshi’s room and watched the games together. You recall watching Karasuno fight their way through the ranks until they tasted a bitter loss once the promising first year, Hinata Shoyo, fell ill. Tendou had chided early on into the tournament that he was pushing himself past his limit and Wakatoshi agreed but you didn’t have the eye to see it until he had collapsed on his hands and knees on the court. Still, the three of you sat shoulder to shoulder in front of Wakatoshi’s computer screen, knuckles tight against your thighs.
Sa-to-ri: shall we grub tonight?
Your phone lights up sometime around 3 pm and you open it to see Tendou’s distinct contact name light up across the screen.
You: u miss me? lol
Sa-to-ri: nah
You: what’s on the menu?
Sa-to-ri: ramen
You: then yeah okay
Tendou has one particular ramen shop that he likes to frequent with you. It’s a bit of a tradition and when you both go there, it is either in work uniforms that make you look silly or house clothes so comfortable they could hardly be considered outfits at all.
Some nights, you both trudge into the shop, you in the remnants of your work uniform and Tendou fully dressed in his, ready to attend his shift once you finish eating. Tendou wears his black slacks but rolls them to the knees and his black dress shirt is untucked in the front. He looks silly, but you know from visiting him that he always fixes it before he clocks in. You usually wear something business casual to suit your desk job, dress pants and a white shirt of sorts. On other nights, you both will come in wearing whatever it is you were wearing around the house.
The shop is a few blocks from his place and if you weren’t looking for it, you would miss it. It is tucked behind two brightly lit shops in a back alley. Still, when you’re hungry for a particularly good bowl of ramen, you can smell it from down the block. The aroma of garlic and miso wafts through the streets from the alley it sits in and both you and Tendou find that you would know it by smell alone. It beckons to you both in a homely manner.
“You’re so late,” Tendou comments as he meets you at the bottom of his stairwell.
“Were you tracking me?” You furrow your eyebrows. You hadn’t agreed to meet him outside his place, so to see his lanky figure descending the outdoor steps is a bit of a shock. Still, you wouldn’t put it past him to check your location for where you are. In fact, you suspect he does it often and for fun. You don’t mind though. After all, you do the same to him.
“Yeah,” he shrugs, putting his hands in the pockets of his sweats. Tendou leans forward, shifting his weight onto his hips and letting his shoulders droop.
“Eugh, creepy,” you shiver slightly and smile at him.
Tendou tilts his head to the side and gives you an affectionate grin. It spreads across his face and his eyes narrow in a familiar way. For a moment, you think he is about to say something that makes you want to cross one of your well-defined boundaries but instead, he comes out with, “if you were on time, I wouldn’t have to.”
You shove him to the side plainly and turn to stride down the sidewalk before you can watch him wobble back and forth like a card house. Your heart hammers lightly in your chest. This happens sometimes. You find yourself getting tripped up on the familiarity of his expressions and the way his smile curls like dry paper. Then, you hear the sound of his sneakers against the floor as he jogs to catch up with you in the direction of the restaurant.
“Wooaaahhh, so hostile tonight, huh? What happened to my nice BFF from this morning?” He leans forward as he walks so that he’s in your eye line, trying to catch your avoidant gaze as you suppress a smile.
“They remembered that you’re an irritating little shit,” you huff, pretending to be mad.
“Harsh.”
The two of you walk the short distance to the restaurant in near silence. It’s nearing 9 pm and the streets have gone dark, illuminated only by the streetlights and sign shops that stay on through the evening. Their electric glow casts the sidewalk pavement in artificial blues and yellows, elongating your shadows until they dip into the street where cars and cyclists zip by on their way home. You watch people bustle through the street, their lively chatter creating a city soundscape that you’re familiar with. Groups of men in business suits walk into nearby restaurants and bars, finally off the clock for the night but not quite ready to return home. Girls wearing colorful spring clothes move in gaggles as they head into a new and trendy spot that recently popped up.
Some of these girls stare at Tendou as he passes. They watch the lazy nature of his eyes and the way he hunches over himself slightly. They marvel at his height and the cool exterior he wears as he looks somewhere past them at the buildings lining the somewhat busy street. These girls giggle into their mouths when he passes because, for every person who has ever called him creepy, there are an equal number of people who call him handsome. They glance behind them as they walk, asking each other if you are his girlfriend to which you chuckle internally. Tendou pretends not to notice, though you know from the way that he is careful not to look at them that he does.
Every now and then when this happens, Tendou’s gaze will slink over to look at you. You can feel the way he watches your expression, his gaze fixed on you through the corners of his eyes. Sometimes you will look back at him and raise your eyebrows and he’ll shake his head. Other times, you will keep staring straight ahead just to see how long he will look at you for. You’ve learned that it will be until he needs to look ahead for fear of running into someone.
When you reach the door of the small ramen shop, which consists of a blue curtain with kanji lettering, Tendou holds it to the side for you with his forearm. He reaches ahead of himself and puts it against the doorframe, pinning it against the wood frame to keep the cloth out of your way before ducking his head to follow you in. When you look behind you, Tendou is straightening himself up again to his full height.
The chef inside calls a welcome to you before he asks how you’re doing. He knows you both well by now and whenever you enter, it seems that he’s pleased to see you. He’s an older man with heavy wrinkles beside his eyes and between his eyebrows. He’s expressive and the lines of age on his face demonstrate that very clearly. The chef has sharp features that soften considerably when he smiles and a low, gruff voice that seems to somehow match the interior decoration of his hole-in-the-wall shop.
“You together yet?” He leans onto the counter after asking which particular bowl of ramen you’d like.
The chef is an old man and far too cheeky for his own good. Every time you come in, he never fails to ask if you’re dating each other yet. Through a tenacious grin, he poses the question you both have been asked countless times over. Tendou’s response is different every time.
“Oh yeah, we’re so in love now.” You take the liberty of responding and Tendou leans his cheek onto his hand and raises his eyebrows at you.
“Yeah?” He questions, the fat of his cheek smushing his lips into a slight pout.
“No.” You turn to the chef and shake your head. “It’s not gonna happen.”
The chef clicks his tongue and shakes his head with a small laugh and Tendou sits up and drums his fingers on the table as he leans back in a stretch.
“Aw, never?” He teases.
You nod at him, exaggerating the movement.
Tendou closes his eyes and laughs, his fingers still drumming against the surface of the table before he reaches a resting position. You hear him mumble bummer as you look away and when you look back at him, you find that he is staring blankly at the drink menu in front of him. His expression is unreadable.
Tendou gets like this sometimes. He grows quiet for a few moments as if he is weighing something in his mind. You can see the inquisitive look in his eyes and every now and then, his bottom lip will bounce and it will tell you that he’s thinking about something. In these moments, you’re never quite sure what he’s thinking. You’ve never been able to tell and you’ve reserved yourself to thinking that it is not meant for you or for anyone else.
Then, just as quickly as he falls into the slight moment of silence, he pulls himself out in his same usual manner. Tonight, he remarks on how hungry he is and how he doesn’t want to work tomorrow night. Then, he’ll let you talk until you’ve nothing left to say. Whereas Tendou does most of the talking with Wakatoshi, you do most of the talking with Tendou. You can appreciate the way he just wants to listen, his eyes trained sleepily on your face as he listens to you chatter on about something mundane. He knows you would and have done the same for him and you imagine that he feels the same about listening to you talk that you do listening to him.
You both slurp at your noodles through idle conversation. He talks about work and you converse about what it is that you want to do next. Sometimes, in moments like these where you are both discussing your precarious futures, it feels like you’re in your third year again getting food after evening practice. The only difference now is that Wakatoshi is not with you and you are no longer 17. Instead, both you and Tendou are 24 and in the inbetween of life, floating between present and future in a perpetual cycle of uncertainty. Somehow, the only thing that seems to quell it is the familiar presence of one another. The small ramen shop, with its sounds of boiling water and conversation, grows smaller still.
—
Tendou is weird. He’s always been weird. He somehow manages to seem like he knows everything. He has wide, unsettling eyes that look like they have x-ray vision. He can guess what just about any of his friends are doing at any given moment and he’s open about it. All of it is weird. It’s not as if he’s been particularly normal up until now because there is truly nothing normal about Tendou and you like him that way but recently… he’s been weirder.
You can’t exactly pin what could be off because he hasn’t done anything in particular. He still texts you to hang out, he still wears that familiar smile that you adore, he is still as attentive as usual, but he’s weird. Something is weird.
You imagine that what you’re sensing is a radar you have only for Tendou. The feeling comes to you as more of a sixth sense rather than anything based on evidence. You know him like the back of your hand. You’re likely to notice even the smallest new detail. That’s how it is with Tendou. Hand in hand with the particular closeness you share, is the ability to tell when he’s off.
Tendou lately has been spending more time on his phone. He stares and clicks it on and off like he’s waiting for something. The screen will occasionally light up his features before he clicks it off again upon seeing nothing. Occasionally he will swipe his phone open and check whatever it is he’s waiting on directly, though you can’t tell if it’s news or a conversation. You watch the way he holds the sleek rectangle in his long fingers, drumming them against the smooth side of it and waiting for it to vibrate in his grasp. More often than usual, while he drums his fingers across the back of his phone, he will wear that blank look and stare into space, thinking about something you’re not privy to.
The thought pops into your mind that it could be a girl, though you’re not sure that’s the case. If it were a girl, you think Tendou would tell you and if he didn’t… well, that thought makes you more uncomfortable than you’d like to admit for reasons you can’t quite pinpoint. Tendou is his own person, as are you, but if there is one thing you pride yourselves on it is the way you share openly with each other. You inhale, letting your gaze slink from where he fiddles with his phone to the television screen. You won’t dwell on it. You’re not nosy enough to dwell.
The feeling isn’t particularly uneasy and any anxiety that may have manifested while you were considering Tendou’s predicament quickly melts away once Tendou begins talking to you. You find yourself at ease while he chats, telling you that his job wants him to pick up more hours but he’s not sure if he wants to. It’s so boring, but it’s not. This topic is such a mundane one but you feel that familiar fondness bloom through you as he speaks. Nothing seems boring when you’re with him.
Then, the phone in his hand begins to vibrate. It hums to life in his somewhat limp grip and Tendou, in one smooth and slow motion, checks who exactly it is. There’s no rush to it. In fact, Tendou finishes his sentence before shifting his eyes down to look as he flips the screen up to face him but you can tell that he’s eager. He tilts his head, reading the words across the screen as the jingle of his ringtone plays softly from the muffled speakers. Tendou dropped his phone in water once and as a result, his ringtone sounds like it is playing through glass. His expression shifts from one of barely readable anxiety, to disappointment, to happiness.
His gaze slinks over to you and he gives you a lopsided and lazy grin.
“It’s Wakatoshi.”
“Yeah?” You peer over his thumb, looking at the familiar name across the screen, “can I say hi?”
“Duh,” he sticks his tongue out like you’ve said something stupid before answering the call, “Wa-ka-to-shi! I’ve got _____ here,” he holds the phone out to your mouth, “say hello!”
“Hi Wakatoshi.” You speak and you can hear the gruff sound of his acknowledgement before Ushijima’s rich baritone spills through the speaker.
“Hello,” he says your name, even across his tongue, “it’s been a while since we last spoke.”
“Yeah, well, you never call!” You fake a pout and you’re certain Ushijima can hear it through the phone.
Ushijima gives a soft exhale, “I could say the same about you.”
You roll your eyes even though he can’t see it and Tendou fakes being hurt on your friend’s behalf.
“But don’t worry,” he starts, “I’ll be back in Japan in a few weeks.”
“No way! Really?” You feel the excitement bubble in your chest before it shows on your face and Tendou tilts his head at your expression. You watch the way his eyes slink across your features, soaking in your joy through his skin like the sun until he is kissed with it.
“Yeah, visiting family,” the response is short, much like the way Ushijima usually talks.
“Man, the off season works wonders,” Tendou hums from beside you, wiggling a little in his seat.
“You know there’s no off season, Tendou. We train year round,” Wakatoshi states.
“Minor details,” he says, waving his wrist back and forth as if he were erasing the sound of the words from the air around him.
Tendou gives you a wry grin before pulling the phone back and switching off speaker mode. Vaguely you can hear the sound of Ushijima giving a brief apology about not calling you, but you’re not actually mad enough to warrant it. In fact, you’re elated that he’s coming to visit. You and Wakatoshi are very good at clicking right back into place, so worrying over why he doesn’t call isn’t exactly in the front of your mind. Besides, you figure he still thinks about you because every morning you receive an influx of tiktoks and new articles that he’s sent you through the night. So thoughtful, that one.
“So what’s up?” Tendou speaks, placing the phone against his ear and pinching it there with his shoulder.
He reaches in front of him, unscrewing the top of his water bottle and taking a sip as he listens somewhat intently to what Ushijima has to say. Tendou leans back, extending his arm over the back of his couch and leaning deeply into the cushions with a sigh and mumble of confirmation.
He looks like he’s at his leisure here. The lean muscle of his neck is relaxed and the tilt of his head makes him look like he’s scheming something. A small smile plays at the corners of his lips as he gazes thoughtlessly at the table in front of him. It tugs the ends of his mouth upwards and you recognize it as one that is entirely subconscious. Satori doesn’t even realize he’s doing it and the thought sends a fond flood of warmth through your chest, honeyed and heavy.
You stand, exhaling deeply when you do. It’s best to leave them to their chats. Satori and Wakatoshi’s time together is limited, so when the other calls each night, it fulfills a certain (and private) routine which you know they both value.
Tendou’s eyes slink over to you as you move. His eyebrow quirks up as he pinches the phone between his ear and shoulder, pulling the bottom of his phone from his mouth as if he’s ready to respond to whatever you say. You opt to mouth at him, as you can still hear the baritone hum of Ushijima’s voice on the other end of the line.
“I’m gonna go take a shower,” You point behind you to his bathroom.
Tendou makes the OK symbol with his hand before he smiles at you. Then, he turns his attention back to his phone and you can hear him start the sentence ‘it’s going okay’. You watch as the smile falls and his face returns to a somewhat pointed resting position. He glances sideways at you one more time, his eyes tracking over your figure as you eavesdrop in a somewhat obvious way. All he offers is the slight upturn of his lips, but you can’t shake the eerie feeling the smile gives you. It looks like it’s made out of glass and as you step away, you hear the way his voice drops to a hushed whisper before it fades entirely through the thick wood of his bathroom door.
You start the shower, turning the knob in Satori’s bathroom. It’s familiar here and you don’t need to pause to think about which way is hot and which way is cold. Coming to his home is like walking into your own and part of your relishes in getting to use his shampoo and conditioner.
It smells like him, somewhat rich and musky, with a sharp and clean aspect to it. You think that his shampoo smells a bit like men’s deodorant, but far more gentle. It’s less masculine than that, somewhat sweet, but it still retains this aspect to it that maintains whatever it is Tendou has going on. You like wearing that smell. It’s like a homecoming and sends your stomach flipping.
His bathroom is decidedly western. Blue tile decorates the shower wall, it’s white grout somewhat tinged with age. The tiles are clean though. You know because Satori reminds you constantly to go over it with the squeegee when you’ve finished. It gives his bathroom this particularly polished quality.
You lather his shampoo into your hair, inhaling deeply as you do. It smells like him. It smells like Tendou after an evening practice, coming out of his mother’s bathroom as he rubs at his then-shorter hair. It smells like the way he does when he’s at home and you feel it in your lungs when you take a breath.
You think of his strangeness. You think of the odd way he carries himself, the way he walks, the way his eyes slink back and forth in a decidedly lazy way. You imagine the cadence of his voice, the soft tenor hum of it when he speaks and the pointed way he says what he means while simultaneously saying the opposite.
Then, you think about his recent behavior. You think about how tense he is, the way he clicks his phone on and off like he’s waiting for something.
You’re not particularly sure why the concept of it rubs you the wrong way. It’s a particular feeling of uneasiness and one you haven’t felt with him before. It’s new—somewhat exciting—and dreadful. As you shower, rinsing his body wash from the planes of your own, you ponder on the feeling of it. Weighted in your gut, it sits like poison. You feel like you’re watching an anvil hang from a fraying rope, the weight too much to bear, though why you feel it, you don’t know.
When you leave the bathroom, Tendou is still seated on his couch. He doesn’t seem to hear you leave, and if he did, his body language doesn’t betray it. He sits, his legs extended out onto the coffee table in front of him, one ankle crossed over the other. The phone is still pressed to his head with one hand, his long finger holding the back of it to the shell of his ear.
“I haven’t,” he says quietly.
There’s a pause and you can only presume that Ushijima is talking.
“Yeah, it’s just-” he rubs a hand up under his hair, scratching at the back of his head, “it’s a hard thing to bring up.”
Another pause, except in this one, he stares distantly into the space in front of him. You recognize that look, the one that tells you he’s somewhere far away. The corners of his lips pull flat and you watch as his eyes cloud over with a consuming thought. It’s the same as the night in the ramen shop, placid and somewhat melancholy. Tendou wears this look often lately, though it’s meaning is one that you can’t figure out.
It casts over his face like a mask and even now, as he nods into the phone as if Wakatoshi can see it, you wonder what runs through his mind. You have Satori figured out but this expression is an anomaly, one that you can’t place your finger on.
“What is?” You pipe up, walking around the side of the couch and plopping down.
Tendou jumps with a start, his hand coming up over his chest before he gives a short laugh.
“Jesus, someone needs to put a bell on you,” he breathes.
“I wasn’t even that quiet,” you laugh a little, “what’s so hard to bring up?”
Tendou gives you a wry smile, dispelling the expression he wore a moment ago and donning another. You see it tug at the corner of his mouth before answers, “it’s a secret.”
You roll your eyes, huffing a little. “C’mon, thought we didn’t have any?”
“None that I want to share,” he says, giving you a lopsided grin.
“I really hate you.”
Tendou puts his head on your shoulder, peering up at you. “You promise?”
You bark a small laugh and Tendou turns back toward his phone, his head still resting on your shoulder. You can feel his tufts of dark red hair at your neck, tickling your skin through the fabric of your pajama shirt and you lean into the touch absentmindedly. His free hand fiddles absentmindedly with a stray thread on the hem of your shirt and he mumbles to Wakatoshi that you just got out of the shower. Their conversation, now that you’re present, feels much slower than it previously was, like they’re deliberately trying to change the subject.
Despite the touch, despite Satori’s blatant affection, the prospect of a secret tastes bad on your tongue. You’ve never been the type to pry. You’ve always believed that whatever you need to know, Tendou will tell. So why is it that you’re so uneasy right now? Distrust sews itself into your skin like a badge and you furrow your eyebrows a little as you watch the planes of Tendou’s face twist with lively expressions through his conversation, the lamp on the side table casting him in a faint orange glow that feels homely and somewhat eerie.
You and Tendou head to bed together a short while later, dragging your feet across the carpeted floors before collapsing into bed. Tendou rolls over quickly, mumbling an absent-minded goodnight and while you stare at the ceiling and wait for his breathing to slow and steady itself, you ponder the inbetween. You’re not so sure which inbetween you’re thinking about though— whether you’re thinking about the inbetween of youth and stability—or something else entirely.
—
“Did you get the text?” Tendou calls from your living room. He’s posted himself up in there today, his laptop open as he clicks away at something he won’t show you.
The text he’s talking about is one from none other than Ushijima Wakatoshi himself, telling you and Tendou that the three of you should meet up for dinner tonight. He suggested a restaurant downtown, near the station and you were thrilled to receive the text.
“Yeah, I did,” you call, leaning back on your heels to peer around the corner at him. “Wanna meet up here first?”
Tendou is quiet for a moment in the other room before he agrees, telling you that he’s going to send a message to Wakatoshi and let him know. You thank him briefly, returning to whatever it was that you were doing on your phone.
You must admit, you have ulterior motives for wanting to go to dinner. It’s not that you aren’t thrilled to have the three of you back together. You are, deeply so. But secretly, you are hoping that it will bring back a sense of normalcy you’ve lost in the recent month. To you, it feels like the last normal night was a month ago in your apartment when Satori brought over wine after your break up. That was the last time he felt the way he always has.
Recently, he’s been stranger than usual. You can’t help the rot that rises in your throat when you think about it. It’s an uneasy little bug, sending you queasy and anxious over the smallest changes, though you aren’t quite sure when it started happening. It’s hard to place, especially because it is about Tendou of all people. Until now, you’ve always felt comfortable telling him everything but for some reason, you worry that bringing this up will make him vanish altogether. Still, you hope that attending something nostalgic like this with him the way you always have will fix it somehow. You hope that maybe you’ve just been too sensitive and that after seeing Wakatoshi and eating a meal together, things will just click back into place.
Maybe that’s just wishful thinking though.
—
Sa-to-ri: u ready? I’m downstairs
You check your phone, seeing it light up on the top of your bed through your mirror. You’d been checking something irrelevant about what you are wearing, fiddling with the waistband of your bottoms or the way your hair falls on your forehead. Nerves rise in your throat as you put on your shoes and lock your apartment door behind you, hopping down the stairs.
“Well, don’t you look pretty,” Tendou hums, smiling up at you.
He’s wearing an oversized t-shirt and joggers. They cut off just above his ankles, revealing a worn pair of black high top sneakers. The sleeves of his shirt rest against his upper arms nicely and his hands are tucked into his pockets as he shifts his weight forward. It bunches up around his forearms, creating big, sloping pockets across the front of his abdomen where the hem of his shirt covers his waistband. You roll your eyes, catching the unusual heat rising to your cheeks and swallowing it down.
“Thanks,” you exhale, “you trying to butter me up or something?”
Tendou gives you a wry grin. “How’d you know?”
You sneer lightly at him, “because you’re awful at hiding shit.”
Tendou presses his lips into a small line. His eyes glass over a little as he starts to walk, keeping his hands in his pockets.
“Anyway, what is it?”
“What’s what?” Tendou raises an eyebrow.
“The thing you want to butter me up for?” You furrow your eyebrows, laughing a little.
“Huh? Oh, nothing. I just want to be on your good side.”
“Scared or something?”
“A little,” he hums, looking at his shoes before glancing sideways at you as he raises his chin to peer at the tops of the buildings lining your walk to the station.
The restaurant is a few stops away in a newly painted building. It’s a few blocks from the station, lit up by electric blue lights characteristic of Kokubunchô. The crowds, which you should be used to, overwhelm you a little and you’re grateful for Tendou, whose height makes him impossible to lose. You’re surprised that Wakatoshi would suggest a place downtown, just off from the izakaya and clubs that make Kokubunchô such a popular destination for people our age. After all, he’s never been much of a partier, often choosing to abstain and stay in shape.
It’s been a long while since you’ve seen him. Wakatoshi spends most of his time traveling around Japan and Asia, playing volleyball in countries you’ve never even thought to visit. He competes in global competitions and will most likely be recruited for the Japan National team for the Olympics.
When you arrive at your designated meeting spot, Wakatoshi is standing outside. You know that before you even see him because people round the corner he stands behind while glazing backwards over their shoulders. They mutter about how big that man was, if they’ve seen him somewhere before, if he’s a celebrity. Tendou snickers under his breath, his head tilting a little like it’s on a spring, and you smile in response.
You run ahead of Tendou and round the corner, greeted by Ushijima’s tall figure standing outside of the entrance to the building, lit up by the neon sign above him.
“Finally!” You shout, bounding over to him and embracing him into a hug.
“You should really announce who you are before you hug someone,” he says, his voice low and baritone as he wraps his thick arms around you.
“I did,” you laugh a little, your excitement at finally being able to see him again climbing in your throat.
“I wouldn’t consider that enough warning.”
You pull away, pouting a little at him before cracking a wide smile.
“How are you?” he continues.
“I’m good,” you exhale, “Jesus, look at you. I think you got taller.”
“I didn’t,” he says matter of factly, “they measure me a lot for the team. I would know.”
“Still straightforward as ever,” you huff a little and Wakatoshi gives you a gentle smile. It’s barely there, but you’ve known him long enough to be able to notice it now.
“No greeting for Satori?” Tendou feigns injury behind you, shrugging his shoulders and scuffing his heel against the floor.
Wakatoshi scoffs lightly before stepping close. Then, the two boys hug each other, clutching tightly around the other’s shoulders as they mumble about how long it’s been since they’ve spoken in person. Satori makes an off-handed comment about Wakatoshi getting more handsome and Wakatoshi jostles his shoulder in response, saying something about Tendou being smoother around the edges too.
You watch, stomach swimming with a familiar feeling you get only when the three of you are together. It’s like you are all 17 again and nothing has changed. The way you speak, the way you feel, the uniquely comfortable atmosphere the three of you set with each other, blankets you like snow.
Tendou walks into the restaurant first, followed by you, and then Wakatoshi behind you. People inside of the restaurant turn and stare when they duck under the doorway, standing to their full height in the restaurant. Even among people with similar heights, the two of them stand out. Tendou with his knowing eyes and Wakatoshi with his undeniably good looks. You are in the middle, caught between two magnetic forces that you’ve spent the majority of your life around.
You settle at a small table in the back. It’s clean and hardly has enough room to fit the three of you around it comfortably. It’s a trendy restaurant, mostly famous for its matcha desserts which mix western cooking with Japanese flavors. The majority of the menu are smaller appetizers, but there are sandwiches as well as seafood options which you hungrily stare down. When the time comes, you settle on a salmon dish with miso seasoning, Satori decides on a spicy curry, and Wakatoshi orders the same thing you do but with a small side of tempura. Looking at the place now, you figure that it’s probably closer to an izakaya than any other type of restaurant. You look forward to dessert.
“Are either of you getting drinks?” Tendou leans forward on the table on his elbows, giving a wry grin.
You peer at him from the side, smiling slightly. “And you say I’m the alcoholic.”
“You are,” he states, leaning forward and smiling at you.
“I’m not,” Wakatoshi adds.
“Well spotted, Ushiwaka,” Tendou snickers.
“Yeah, you’re a regular Sherlock Holmes,” you laugh.
“I meant that I’m not getting a drink,” he says flatly, pressing the ghost of a smile between his lips.
You and Tendou glance at each other before bursting into a fit of giggles. Then, Wakatoshi follows with a laugh that’s deep seated in his chest.
“I don’t know. Are you?” You ask Tendou, exhaling deeply.
“I want one,” he shrugs.
“Of course you do,” you chuckle a little. “Then, I’ll have a beer too.”
Tendou tilts his chin upwards, his eyes narrowing as he gives you a little smile. It’s like he expected you to do the same, an affectionate and knowing little curl of his lips that sends heat rippling through your stomach. It takes a lot of strength to tear your eyes from him and when you do, you find yourself trying to shake the new feeling from your stomach as you inhale.
“So Wakatoshi, how’s the team?” You ask as Tendou flags down the server and orders two beers and a glass of water.
“They’re fine,” he says, smiling a little. “Team practices still happen even in the off season, but what’s important is weight training to make sure we stay strong.”
“Is that why you were able to come back to Sendai for a bit?”
“Mhm, though I still train every day,” he offers, leaning back so that the server can set down the drinks on the table.
“So driven…” Tendou smiles.
“You should be playing, you know,” Wakatoshi says to Tendou.
He waves his hand in response, dispelling the thought. “Me? Go pro? Nah, I think I’d be miserable. Volleyball was just a high school thing for me.”
Wakatoshi shrugs his shoulders.
“You gonna be on the Olympic team, ‘Toshi?” You pry a little, leaning forward.
“I don’t know yet. We’ll find out next year.” His expression doesn’t betray anything, but you can hear the excitement in his voice. It makes the sound feel tight, like he’s trying to keep from shouting about it. You smile to yourself.
“Look at you, you’ve got a whole career. Meanwhile, Satori and I have no clue what we’re gonna do in the future,” you chuckle, taking a sip of your drink. The condensation sticks to your hand.
Then, Wakatoshi furrows his eyebrows and looks to Tendou. He looks back at him and for a moment, they sit there like that, communicating telepathically (most likely). It makes you uneasy, like there is something about Tendou that you’re not allowed to know. The uneasy feeling that’s made itself scarce the entire evening bullies its way to the base of your throat. You try to swallow it down, but to no avail.
Tendou inhales and the moment is broken. The two boys settle back into their seats and glide past the strange occurrence.
“I’m sure you’ll both figure it out,” Wakatoshi offers, smiling gently at you. “You’re very capable.”
“I applied to a temp agency a week ago, so hopefully something comes of that,” you take another big sip of your drink.
“Temp agency? Why didn’t you tell me?” Tendou pouts a little.
“I mean, it’s not a sure thing. Just an application. Didn’t want to get ahead of myself.” You laugh.
“Awww but I wanna hear about your life,” Tendou whines lightly.
“Bro, you are literally in my house five days a week. You know just about everything.”
Tendou shrugs his shoulders and leans back in his chair, mood shifting from the false sadness into something of realization. Has he only just now realized how much time the two of you spend together.
“_____, Satori told me you and your boyfriend broke up.” Wakatoshi says.
“Damn, seriously dude?” You shrink into your chair, letting the server place your food in front of you. It looks good and your cut of fish steams on the bed of rice it sits on. Your mouth waters.
“Sorry, he asked about it,” Tendou shrugs his shoulders, picking up his chopsticks to start eating.
You wave off the apology. It’s not like you weren’t going to tell Wakatoshi anyway.
“Yeah, we did,” you say, swallowing the first bite of fish.
“What happened?” he pushes.
You shrug your shoulders, sitting back in your chair a little and pushing the fish around your plate. “We just weren’t compatible. I didn’t like him the way I thought I should and he clearly didn’t like me very much. He was kinda mean.”
Tendou swallows his bite of food beside you and Wakatoshi glances up toward him. They exchange another look and Satori shakes his head, returning his gaze to the food.
“That’s terrible. I’m sorry,” Wakatoshi offers.
“Nah, don’t worry. I’m not all too beat up about it,” you laugh a little. “It might sound twisted, but when we broke up I didn’t really care all that much.”
“I can vouch for that. They called him a cunt.” Tendou adds, smiling over his drink.
“I did do that,” you confirm.
“Sounds like them,” Wakatoshi gives a small laugh.
The rest of your meal is spent in idle chatter. You and Satori have a few more drinks, trying to get Wakatoshi to order one in the later half of the evening, to which he dutifully shakes his head. You blather on about how much you miss him and when the next time he’ll be in Japan is while he smiles fondly and tosses sideways glances to Tendou who just shrugs because he knows you get like this.
You realize, at some point, that unlike you and Tendou, Ushijima is not in the inbetween. He’s got a well-established career with a clear future path. He is not stumbling around blindly, but rather taking deliberate steps towards his future. You and Tendou, it seems, are caught in that particular place, walking yourselves in circles until you finally find the courage to walk in a line. You’re relieved to know that someone is in the circle with you.
Briefly, you think about the looks Satori and Wakatoshi exchanged. Pointed, deliberate looks that exchanged information between the two of them. You’re not sure why it bothers you the way it does. It’s not as if they’ve never had secrets between the two of them before. This one, however, feels somehow heavier. It feels like it’s an elephant in the room between the two of them. You hate the inflated feeling it gives off. It swells and presses you against the wall, stealing the air from your lungs and sending panic to rise up through your throat.
You’re sad to part with Wakatoshi, offering him a long hug and doing your best to squeeze the air out of him. He pats your back, laughing lightly about how he’ll be back eventually. You whine, telling him that he needs to call more. He promises that he will, though you know it will probably remain the same. The two of you have engaged in this perpetual cycle for years now.
Satori hugs his friend goodbye as well, mumbling something to Wakatoshi that you don’t catch, to which he says that they can talk about it later.
You scuff your feet against the floor the whole way home, trying to pretend that your plan to make things feel normal worked.
—
You and Satori have clear boundaries. You always have. There are things you can and can’t do with each other that you both follow religiously. It’s not as if you’ve ever actually discussed it with him. The two of you have never sat down and actually talked about these rules you have in place. They are unspoken but mutually understood.
You suppose that drawing those types of lines started in high school. Before then, it had never even crossed your mind that skinship or your particular ways of showing affection to each other could be taken as anything but platonic. Satori was the first of the two of you to get a partner. In your second year of high school, he’d started going out with a girl in his class. You’d never met her before then in earnest, though you’d certainly seen her around, mostly out of the corner of your eye.
Tendou wasn’t all that popular in high school. Not just because of the way he looked (which you’ve always thought to be above average), but because of the somewhat aloof attitude he maintained. Between snide comments and a generally over-confident demeanor, most people found him off-putting. It didn’t take long though for a few girls to notice his better qualities. They noticed his fingers, long and lithe and wrapped in bandages. They noticed his smile, the coy kind that affects one side of his mouth before it affects the other. They noticed his height and stature, the lazy way he carries himself so that he always seems a little off kilter.
To you, these things have always been obvious. His good looks have always been something that you’re keenly aware of. Whatever unique qualities he has only seem to add to them.
Still, when he started seeing her, you and Satori seemed to fall in sync about these unspoken boundaries. One day, the line in the sand between you both was drawn into being, separating your friendship from anything beyond that.
You’ve always been grateful for that little line, you think. It keeps things from getting confusing. It protects yours and Satori’s platonic relationship as much as it protects your romantic ones. You don’t read too much into things. Your heart doesn’t flutter when he touches you (or does it). You keep your pesky emotions at bay. It’s all thanks to that lovely little line.
Sometimes though, like now, that line stares at you. For some reason, it feels like whatever is going on with Tendou is on the other side of it. You feel like he’s moved the line farther away from him, drawing a bubble and preventing you from stepping close. His situation, whatever it may be, is now beyond your grasp and you feel as if asking would be stepping over it.
It’s the first time in your friendship, you think, that Satori has drawn a line all on his own.
He’s back in your house today, lounging on your bed with his head hanging off the end. You can see the way his neck protrudes and bobs each time he swallows. It’s got a lovely angle to it and you can see the lines of lean muscle running up the sides of his neck.
When he’d walked in, you’d found yourself shocked to see that he’d not only decided to get a haircut, but to buzz off all of his hair entirely. You’d gaped at him, reaching up to touch his head and lamenting the loss of his shoulder length hair.
“What? You don’t like it?” he’d asked through a coy smile.
“It’s not that it’s just… why?” you’d questioned, unable to shake the feeling that it has something to do with his secretiveness.
Tendou adopted that familiar far off look and shrugged. “Needed the change. Kinda felt like I was going in a circle.”
Then, he’d brushed past you and into your house, asking about something to drink.
Satori’s looking at his phone now, scrolling through social media like he’s a robot stuck on repeat. Every now and then, his lips will quirk up a bit when he sees something funny, but otherwise, the only thing that moves are his thumbs and the gentle bob of his neck.
You stand facing the mirror in your room, watching him through it as you busy yourself with something on the shelf adjacent. You’d been looking for a book to read but had been quickly distracted by your train of thoughts after seeing a photo of you and Satori from high school.
You keep it framed on your nightstand in a cheap wooden frame you bought from a thrift store before going to college. It was taken a few weeks before your graduation, standing in front of the school gym. Satori is in his volleyball uniform after playing a final skirmish with his team before he passed down his jersey. His hair is spiked up and his forehead is slick with sweat. He’s pulling you close to his body in the photo, his arm wrapped around your shoulder and his fingers secured on the other end of you. You can almost recall the feeling of his jersey, damp with sweat, and your smile in the photo betrays a slight grimace at the feeling of it.
Satori, however, is beaming. His smile is radiant and his eyes are half closed in what looks like the beginning of a genuine laugh. He’d found it amusing to pull you close to him that day, relishing in the way you whined a little about how gross he was. Not that you really minded. You don’t mind much of anything if it’s Satori doing it. He’s special that way.
A notification on Satori’s phone draws you from your thoughts and your eyes wander habitually to the reflection of his screen in the mirror. It looks like an email and Satori shifts when he gets the notification, sucking in a quiet breath as he quickly reads over it. Then, he closes the application.
“Why are you staring?” He speaks abruptly, satisfied at the way you jump at being caught.
“I was just wondering what you’ve been waiting for on your phone lately,” you admit, toeing the line he’s drawn.
“Mmmmmmm,” he hums, not turning to look at you as a smile creeps up his features, “you curious?”
“Mhm,” you answer, turning to face him properly. “Is it a girl?”
At this, Tendou’s eyes slink backward to look at you over the crest of his eyebrows. His lips quirk up in a wry grin. It smooths across his features like liquid metal.
“Why? You wanna date me?”
You’re not sure why the teasing question flusters you so much, but it does. Heat bubbles in your stomach and rises to your face just as quickly and you chide yourself for the way you turn away from him.
“I was just curious,” you huff, rolling your eyes to try and dispel the new sensation rising in you.
Tendou gives you a cat’s smile through the mirror before he stretches his arms above his head and lets them hang over the side of the bed.
“It’s not a girl,” he answers, laughing a little. Then, he pauses like he’s debating something before growing quiet and adopting the strange look he’s been wearing. “Nothing important really.”
You furrow your eyebrows and eye the line in the sand.
It’s killing you, not knowing. This melancholy and secretive facade Tendou has adopted is making him feel like a stranger and it’s eating you up inside. But you trust him. You trust Satori with your life and more, so you swallow down the uncertainty. It’s coming from somewhere unfamiliar. Somewhere possessive and needy. You ignore the fact that the feeling is coming from a place you previously thought your feelings for Satori didn’t come from.
“You sure?” you press, clenching your jaw after the words leave your lips.
“Yeah.” Tendou doesn’t look at you in the mirror, stretching his arms above his head. You think about growing pains.
Lukewarm. The inbetween. You know what this off feeling is. That subtle space in which your lives have been in for the better part of the last five years. A delicate balance between present and future. A delicate balance between friends and something more. This feeling is different. You worry that it is the inbetween of affection and indifference. It’s going to eat you alive.
—
Tendou’s apartment is pleasantly disorganized. It is one of those spaces in which everything looks out of place, but never really is. Tendou knows where each thing is, even if you’ve always had trouble learning. While this is true for all of the places that Satori inhabits, you think it is especially true for his bedroom and the office.
His room is littered with small boxes for little items he’s collected over the years. His shelves are stocked with manga he’s liked enough to collect. They aren’t organized in any particular way except by series, but the pattern seems to make sense only to Tendou. His nightstand always has a half drank glass of water on it and on nights when you stay over, there is one beside it for you.
In the corner, there’s a tall dark oak dresser full of his clothes, all of them folded neatly in drawers and tucked away until he needs them. On top of it, there are framed photos of his childhood, as well as one singular nationals trophy that he didn’t have the heart to throw out. You think all of it is endearing. There’s something lovely about entering this space and feeling him all around you. Any stress seems to melt directly off of your shoulders.
“Wanna order in?” You pad into the living room where Satori is posted in front of the television playing some rendition of the Legend of Zelda games.
“Huh?” He says before quickly interrupting himself. “Oh, yeah sure. What did you want?”
Tendou glances at you over the couch, his eyes catching yours for a moment. He grins, his lips curling up in a delightful way, before he turns his focus back to the TV.
“I dunno, chicken?”
He chuckles, pausing his game and putting his arm over the couch cushion. Tendou tilts his head to the side and smiles. “You always want chicken. Same place, I assume?”
You shrug. “Yeah well, I like their spice blend.” You lean your weight against the wall beside you. “So can we order chicken or not?”
Tendou tilts his head up, pressing his lips together in a smirk and narrowing his all-seeing eyes.
“Spice blend,” he chuckles, humming pleasantly like he’s mulling something over. Then, he clicks his teeth and you wonder briefly about the motion of his tongue when he does. “Yeah, let’s do it.” Then, he turns back to the TV and presses play.
“Kay, I’m gonna order from my phone then,” you hum, rolling your eyes and unlocking the screen.
“Sure,” he says and you pad over to his bedroom to sit down as you pick out what you want. “Oh! ____!”
“Huh?”
“If you’re ordering from the place down the street, I’m pretty sure I have a voucher for a free plate.” He calls.
“Oh, where?”
“Office, I think. Somewhere on the desk.”
You chuckle to yourself, walking down the hall and into the small makeshift office Tendou has set up. It’s in what should be a closet, with only enough space for a light and a small desk set up. When he’d moved into this place, he’d proudly told you about his plans, to which you told him that if it makes him happy, he should do it.
“Who even keeps physical coupons anymore?”
“Me, bro,” he laughs. “Just use it though, I’m pretty sure it’s gonna expire.”
“Kay!”
His desk is littered with paper. Most of them are things he’ll never use again; flyers he was handed on the street, takeout menus he usually looks at online, printed receipts for things he bought years ago. Only a few things are actually useful; printed recipes from the internet, a small booklet full of drinks from his job, and a thick recipe book with papers and post-its sticking out of it.
You shuffle through the papers, looking for the coupon. You’re expecting something bright red and gaudy. Something that feels like it’s trying too hard to get your attention. When you find it tucked beneath the thick book of recipes, you almost just grab it and go. If it hadn’t been for the way your eyes lingered on the spot where it was for a moment, you never would have seen it.
Underneath the coupon, is a clipped together stack of papers. A wax-covered yellow paper clip holds them together and at the top, it reads Le Cordon Bleu and then Diplôme de Pâtisserie. It’s been hastily translated into Japanese and you can’t beat the curiosity or the way dread begins to swirl in your stomach.
It’s an enrollment confirmation and clipped underneath it, there is a confirmation for the rent of a studio apartment in Paris. The date for the enrollment is two months from now and you grimace at the paper, making out what you can of the sloppy translation and French writing.
In your hand, clipped with the yellow-paperclip, is all of the evidence of Tendou’s intention to leave. Worse yet, his intention to leave without telling you in advance. An inky black substance rises in your through, swelling there like lead before realization rounds the corner. In your head, the ball that’s been looming over your head for months now finally drops and you manage to make sense of his behavior the last few months. It wasn’t a girl, it’s never been a girl. It was this.
It’s hard to tell exactly what thoughts run through your mind as you register what you’re looking at. The first is that he’s been keeping this secret for longer than three months judging from the paperwork, the second is that he deliberately chose not to tell you, and the third is the phrase you’ve repeated to yourself since high school. Everything you need to know, Tendou will tell.
You try not to spiral. You try to keep your feet rooted on the ground at the idea of this person you’ve known since adolescence simply going away so suddenly. None of it works. The secrecy of it cuts you like a slow-dragging knife, pressing into your skin and cutting a fine line from your stomach to your forehead.
“_____!” Tendou calls. His voice startles you from your thoughts. “If you haven’t ordered yet, can you get me extra hot sauce please?”
You don’t answer, instead starting to make the short walk from the office to the living room.
Tendou says your name. When you don’t answer, you hear him pause his game and stand up, calling your name again.
By the time he’s turned to start walking in your direction, eyebrows furrowed, you have reached the entrance to the living space. The papers are clutched in your hand and you can feel the edge of them pressing into your palm.
“What are these?” You ask, attempting to keep your voice steady.
“What’s what?” He tilts his head, smiling before he glances down to your hand.
You hold it up so that he can see.
When his gaze settles and he registers what you’re holding, his smile falls. You see the blood rush to his face and a look of shock cover his usually calm features. The expression is foreign on him and it sends a pang of dread through your chest. You had hoped that you were wrong. You had hoped that maybe he was going to tell you, that you’d show him and he’d laugh casually about how he just found out and wanted to tell you once it was settled.
“What is it?” You say softly and Tendou struggles to find the words.
He opens his mouth, closes it, and then opens it again. You watch as he scrambles, your lips pulling deeper and deeper into the frown that you can feel taking over your face.
“Are you going away?”
He nods.
“When?”
“September.”
The air is knocked from your lungs and your voice comes out as barely a whisper. “That’s in two months, Satori.”
“I know.”
“How long have you known?”
He doesn’t answer and when you look up at him, you can see the way that his eyes are growing red.
“How long?” You say, a little more forcefully.
“Since March.”
“Jesus,” you scoff, “March? That’s nearly five months.”
He nods, slightly defeated.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
Tendou scrambles for the words again, and suddenly you feel like you’ve been poisoned. Your stomach turns and your vision goes a little dizzy and you consider the type of sickness that this will bring to your friendship. How sick will it make the both of you? How long will it be until you are well again? Tendou, whose face has fallen into something of dread and uncertainty, clearly feels it too. You blink, staring at him with wide eyes to give him the opportunity to salvage what small bits of your trust remain.
Somehow, the expression he wears looks like he’s been about to form it for months. Like that blank expression he adopted was somehow an early version of this and it’s with a heavy heart that you realize that what you’d been seeing on him was the expression of keeping an awkward secret.
“Why didn’t you tell me, Satori?”
“I wasn’t-” he swallows. “I didn’t-”
“You didn’t know how?” You frown, finishing his sentence. You feel the way your brows press in the middle. “You’re my best friend, Satori. There’s nothing you can’t tell me.”
It hurts to know that he didn’t trust you with this. Unlike the secrets he keeps with Ushijima, this feels like a secret he’s deliberately kept from you. It wounds you to know that there is something Satori didn’t want to tell you, especially something this huge. You feel yourself bleed out onto his floor, though you’re not sure what the other emotions that come with this are. Something adjacent to hurt, like heartbreak.
“You didn’t know how to tell me, so your solution was to just fuck off to France one day without warning?” You raise your voice a little and Tendou, who is usually so fearless, flinches back from it. You press your lips into a line.
It feels selfish and you can’t figure out why. None of this makes any sense at all to you.
“You’ve kept secrets before too,” he says like he’s just thought of the justification. Satori scrambles like a young boy caught in the act, clamoring for a way out of the hole he’s dug himself. The more he reaches for his footing, the worse it hurts you.
You furrow your eyebrows. “Sure! I’ve kept secrets about who I fucked in high school. You kept secrets about your entire fucking future!” The words sting the front of your tongue. “Does Wakatoshi know?”
Tendou doesn’t answer.
“Does Wakatoshi know?” You say again, forcefully this time. Hurt makes its way into your lungs like a fever.
“Yeah,” he says quietly, shoulders slumping forward. “He does.”
You let out a laugh, reaching up to your face and wiping away the tears that have started to well up. When Tendou sees this, his eyes go wide and he takes a step towards you. Instead of letting him take you into his arms the way he always has, you step back. Then, you walk to the entrance of his apartment, grab your bag, slip your shoes on, and open the front door.
“Congratulations. On the school,” you muster, though it feels spoiled.
You want to mean it, but you don’t and the realization sends you out of the door and down the street. When you get on the train home, you finally allow yourself to cry, trying to put together why all of this hurts so much. Why are you spiraling the way you are? You wipe hot tears from your face with the backs of your hands, sniffling quietly while people struggle not to stare. The summer heat in the train car is stifling, clinging to your skin and making your face sticky with tears and sweat.
—
You’ve never fought with Tendou like this before. Sure, you’ve had small spats that lead to a few days of not talking, but this feels bigger than that. This feels like the earth has somehow cracked between you both and opened a deep rift. You’re not sure how long it’s been forming, but you know it isn’t sudden. Pressure builds behind you both like a damn fit to burst.
It’s not as if it’s only the move that’s doing this. You think it’s more. You think it has something to do with that line in the sand or whatever these new feelings for Tendou are. All of it has been somehow funneled into this one secret, spilling out in a messy and jumbled way that confuses you about feelings (or lack thereof) that you’d been certain about for over 10 years.
The floor of your apartment is cool like glass. It’s always colder on the floor than it is standing. You lay down to escape the heat, clinging to the wood like a seastar to a rock. Humidity clings to your skin and makes you sticky. You grimace, rolling over slightly.
It may seem dramatic to lay on the floor and think about Satori, but you often find yourself on the ground when you need to think about something important. The energy flows better down here. There have been several times in which Tendou has laid down on the floor with you to think. He did it when you needed to decide where to go to high school, he did it when you needed to think about saying yes or no to a confession, he did it when you were deciding where to take the entrance exams for at 17. Come to think of it, all of the major decisions in your life were made on the floor. Satori had been there for all of them.
You breathe out an exhale and more heat sticks to your skin. Even the breeze coming in through the window is unbearably hot, though you suppose that’s just the nature of July.
It’s been almost a week since you last saw Tendou, which isn’t too long in the grand scheme of things, but feels like a lifetime because it’s him. You can’t remember the last time you went so long without seeing or speaking to him. You can’t bring yourself to respond to his texts. He’s left four of them, each asking to talk to you about it. Every time you try to respond, you lose the courage to do it, sputtering to a stop just before you start to type.
He’s been with you for all of the major decisions in your life, but you weren’t privy to even know about this one. Sure, Satori is allowed to do what he wants. You know that he’s not obligated to tell you everything, that he doesn’t have to inform you of every small change in his life, but you wouldn’t consider this a small change. Shit, this is bigger than any decision he’s ever made and he didn’t tell you about it.
You’re not sure what’s worse, the idea that he kept it from you all this time or the idea that had you not stumbled upon those papers, he might have just vanished one day. It’s difficult for you to wrap your head around, the idea of Tendou just going away. For you, he’s been a constant presence in your life. Even when you went to college in Kyoto, he’d come to visit. The train ride was never more than a few hours and he would stay through the weekends or you’d make your way back up to Sendai where he attended the local university.
Paris is thousands of kilometers away. Forget visiting on weekends, you might not even be able to visit him on holidays. Then comes the question of if he would even want you to visit. If he didn’t tell you he was leaving, maybe he wouldn’t want to have you there. It could be that Tendou’s closeness with you was too much and it had reached a boiling point you’d never noticed.
It’s hard to believe that the boy you’ve known since 13 could think to go so far away from you. It’s difficult for you to wrap your head around, almost like the thought is presented to you in another language. It’s vaguely familiar, but deeply confusing, so much so that it sends you reeling. You’ve been reeling for the past few days, spun like a top and left to settle on your own.
This summer is hotter than most and the air doesn’t aid your thinking. It leaves you feeling stagnant, distracted by the sound of cicadas outside your balcony. Heat and anger cling to your skin like sticky black tar and the more you think about you and Tendou, the more you feel the poison in your bloodstream. You wonder briefly if Tendou is feeling it too, though of course he’s brought it on himself. Even through your anger, it hurts you to know that he might also be hurting.
When you met Satori, he was only an inch or so taller than you. He sprouted up around your second year of middle school, turning into the beanpole that he is today. He didn’t have a lot of friends when he was younger, not until halfway through your first year of middle school when he became a regular on the volleyball team.
You suppose that he didn’t have many friends because of his name, or maybe it was because of the way he looked. Before Satori grew up, his big eyes and thin upper lip were even more pronounced than they are now and when he was 13, he hadn’t yet grown out of that awkward, middling phase all children go through. You never minded but the other kids certainly did.
In fact, you always liked that Tendou matched his given name so well. Satori, referring to a yokai that can read minds. His all seeing eyes. The way he seems to know everything about you before you know it yourself. It all suits him so nicely. You’ve always liked that about him, those qualities which he’s owned from a young age and maintained throughout the majority of his life.
They’re as dear to you as he is, and you know that they’ve become dear to him as well.
When you were young, you never cared much for the gossip of other children, so when Satori joined your middle school class and was greeted with the whispers of your classmates, you paid them no mind. It seemed that Satori didn’t either, instead focusing on volleyball, which allowed him to realize a certain twisted kind of satisfaction he craved. Your friendship unfolded quickly, moving through the awkward acquaintance stage and into the friend stage quickly.
The first summer you both spent together was one of the most memorable. Come to think of it, you and Satori had somehow managed to skip over the awkward part of making friends at 13, barrelling into the summer season together as comfortable friends. He’d sat out on your back porch with you often, eating cut watermelon your mother had prepared for you both. She was just glad to see you’d made a friend. As a young child, people found you unapproachable, as you’d always had an agency over yourself which other kids didn’t have.
Satori was the same, though he was always more immature in his teasing. Tendou has always gotten a kick out of toying with others and in high school it half-way earned him his nickname of Guess Monster, which plays on the word “gesu” meaning “low-life”. You always thought it was mean, but it would be a lie to say that Tendou didn’t earn that name with his opponents. He always somehow managed to come across as somewhat sleezy to them, even if you know he’s anything but.
It happens to be another part of him that you adore deeply. The way he makes you squirm has always been an enjoyable aspect of your neatly kept friendship.
Still, that first summer and all the summers after, went the same way. On the porch or balcony with a plate of fresh watermelon, laying across the slightly-cooler floor and debating through bored slurs what to do next. You can recall every version of him. 13 and immature, grinning over the tops of sunburnt cheeks. 17 and laidback, with a cheshire-like grin and a penchant for teasing. 20 and in college, with long hair and an easy, attractive grin. 24, with freshly buzzed hair, sitting between the past and the future, getting ready to leave you behind.
You know it’s unfair to think that way. He’s not leaving you behind. Not really. Satori is just moving forward. He’s taking another step towards his future and that’s supposed to be a good thing. It’s supposed to be good that he knows what he wants next. But you can’t find it in you to be happy for him.
You think it’s selfish. It’s selfish of him to not tell you. It’s selfish to want to go so far away. It’s selfish to want to be somewhere that you aren’t. Most of all though, it hurts that you didn’t know. It aches somewhere deep and ancient in your chest, a kind of pain you’re unfamiliar with. Foreign and dull, pressing right up against your sternum from the inside. It feels like heartbreak, as alarming as that is.
Satori has a side to him that you didn’t know. A secretive one. One that allows him to just slowly withdraw if he wants to. It makes you wonder what else he keeps from you. Everything you need to know, Tendou will tell. How far does that extend? What other things don’t you know?
While the ache is there, you can also feel confusion. It’s a deep, skin-tingling sensation, like something not quite realized. You have no idea why you’re reacting as adversely to this as you are. It’s not as if him not telling you this yet means anything that you’ve spiraled into believing. It’s not like it means he doesn’t care about you, it just means that he was as tongue tied as you feel right now.
Your friendship has always had clear rules and boundaries and you think that feeling the way you are and Tendou keeping this secret has somehow broken them. It’s like, in breaking your unspoken rule somewhere else, Tendou set off a chain reaction that caused you to break another. Now, all you can think about are the inbetween moments. The liminal space between friends and something more that you and Satori have occasionally crossed into.
It’s not because you are fantasizing about it, nor is it because you necessarily want it to mean something, but it is because they mean the most to you. Those little moments are when you’ve felt the closest to him, as if your relationship were strengthened by your physical proximity and the feel of his hands on your arms or face.
You think about those easy summers. About the way girls pass him on the street and giggle into their mouths when he glances at them. About the way he looks at you when he walks. All of it piles up like sand, heavy and easy to sink into. You could get lost in these feelings and it terrifies you.
You’re so deeply uncomfortable with the change, both in Tendou’s life and in your steadily rounding realization. Why is that? You’ve separated from plenty of friends before just like this and never felt so hopeless. Leaving for college was no different. Even when Wakatoshi moved away permanently, you weren’t half so torn up. You didn’t mourn the loss of some unplacable thing that had yet to exist. But here you are now, laying down on the floor of your apartment and thinking about what it means that he’s going away and what it means that he didn’t tell you. What makes Satori so different?
You’ve never had to do this before. Thinking about how to respond to Satori feels so strange that it’s making you sick. You used to always know what to say. What’s making this any different? Why does it feel like there’s a lump in your chest that’s going to make you sick?
Maybe it’s because you can’t figure out his motivations. There are very few instances in which you can’t tell what Satori is thinking. After all, he’s the person you spend the most time with, of course you’re able to tell what he’s probably thinking about. You wonder what you could have done to hurt him, rolling onto your back and clenching your fists to quell the crack you feel forming across your chest.
There’s so much anxiety, so much uncertainty. All you can smell is that first summer. All you can hear is that hot and humid day when you were 13. You wonder why it comes to you so clearly now. Is it because this is the last? Is it because you both have already been poisoned beyond healing? Or maybe it’s simply because that is when these feelings started to take root.
Maybe they started to take shape a long time ago, this uncertain, swelling ache in your chest that feels so adjacent to love you could have mistaken it for exactly that. The only reason you haven’t is because you know better. You know better than to break the rules, than to love him like that when your friendship has never been anything more.
You’ve been staving it off for so long, you think. This unplaceable desire has been curbed time and time again. You think back to all of the times it’s felt like Satori was about to cross a boundary and you wonder if he ever actually was or if you’d just imagined it because you wanted it so badly. Even now you’re not sure. You think about your past boyfriends, why it never worked. Had you ever actually cared about them or were you just seeking out traits you thought you saw in Tendou?
Even if it is more than friendship, even if he does mean more to you than you thought, all you know is how angry you are. It swells in your chest, ballooning until it presses against the inside of your ribcage and makes you ache. You know this can’t be fixed alone. You could run yourself in circles and none of it would make any difference. None of this introspection will matter until you can talk to him, until you can be in his presence again.
The threat of loss looms heavy over you, like an anvil tied to a string, it swings precariously above your head. Satori, even after keeping the monumental secret, is still your best friend and losing him, distance be damned, is unfathomable. He’s everything to you and the situation, its precariousness, makes you afraid. How long have you been in the space between loving him and losing him?
—
Sa-to-ri: hey i won’t text you anymore after this, but please come by when you’re feeling up to it. i can explain.
You read the text over and over in front of his apartment. There’s a thrumming in your chest, like nerves come alive, and you can’t seem to just open the door.
Satori opens it first, swinging it open with one sharp pull and staring at you.
“Were you tracking me?” you ask softly.
“Yeah,” he admits.
He steps to the side to let you in and you quickly remove your shoes, stepping into his apartment.
Satori looks like the Satori he always has. Tall and lanky, with big, heavily creased eyes and his thin upper lip. His bottom lip, full and round, bounces slightly as you turn to face him. You rake your eyes over his buzzed hair, still not quite used to the way it looks on him. You remember running your hand over it a few weeks ago and feeling the soft, spiky texture of it. Part of you misses the long hair, though you think this suits him more somehow.
His eyes, which are usually low-lidded and laidback, look swollen, and the bags under his eyes which you admire so secretly, are more pronounced. Satori looks tired and as soon as you register that it’s probably your fault, you let your shoulders fall.
“How are you?” he questions softly, the familiar tenor ring of his voice tentative and needy as he follows it with your name.
You shrug. “I’m okay. How are you?”
“Been better,” he says, giving you a lopsided grin that you struggle to return.
You nod at him, swallowing thick, and Satori lets out a shaky exhale and runs a hand over his buzzed red hair.
“I can explain what’s happening, if you want,” he offers.
“It seems pretty straight forward,” you say. “You applied to a school in France, got in, and it spiraled out before you got the chance to tell me. Right?”
Satori tilts his head, surprised. You’ve hit the nail on the head.
“I’m sorry,” he says quietly. “I didn’t mean- I didn’t think that-”
You nod, biting back the familiar sting of bile rising up your chest. “I know. I’m trying not to be mad.”
“Are you?” he asks. “Mad, I mean.”
You nod.
“Why?”
“What do you mean why?” you say, giving an incredulous snort. “You’re going away and you were going to do it without telling me.”
Satori tosses his arms up a little, beginning to grow frustrated. “I thought you just said you understood what happened?”
“I do!” you shout back. “Do you expect me to leap for joy because you’re going 9,000 kilometers away?”
Tendou tries to step towards you, reaching out with his lithe fingers to attempt to soothe the anger he can feel rising in you.
“I have no real idea why you didn’t tell me,” you admit, crumbling a bit. “I think I could go over it a million times in my head and never really understand. But I think the worst part is that I don’t even know what I’m mad at. I’m just mad.”
He falters, opening and closing his mouth in an attempt to find something to say. You feel your eyes grow wet with tears.
“Why is it so easy for you to just leave me behind?” You question quietly, your voice cracking as tears start to spill. You feel silly and selfish for asking him this, but it’s what comes up. That unfamiliar swell of emotions you’ve been experiencing for the past week all bring you here. “How can you just up and leave just like that without even asking me about it? Didn’t you ever consider that I’d want to know and celebrate with you?”
“____,” he says quietly.
“And I feel so dumb because I know I should be happy,” you cry, wiping your eyes. “I know I should be happy that you’re taking the first steps toward your future, but I can’t be. I’m so hurt, Satori and I’m so sorry that I am.”
You shake your head a little when Tendou steps close to you, unable to lift your head to look at him.
“I know you have your own life and your own future,” you say, nodding your head. “I know. But I don’t know how you could ever want to go so far away from me. I don’t think I could ever do that.”
It’s not accusatory, but uncertain, like you’re weighing the words on your tongue. It almost sounds as if you’re questioning your own feelings. It even surprises you and you stare at the floor between your feet to try and ground yourself. You can hear Satori breathing. It’s a steady sound, occasionally hitching and giving away his emotions.
“Do you love me?” he speaks up quietly. You raise your head, eyebrows furrowed. “Do you love me like that?”
You don’t know what to say or how to answer. The question has forced your gaze back up to him. His small eyebrows are pulled together in the center and his lips, usually tinged with a small grin, are pulled downwards. You ache at seeing him like this.
“Because I do,” he adds, staring at you.
“You what?” It shocks you, and you shake your head a little as if that would clear up the misunderstanding. You watch as he breaks every boundary you both have ever created.
“I have for a long time. I love you and I’m not leaving because I don’t,” Satori looks almost unrecognizable, so deeply passionate and emotional, but there’s something familiar in it. There’s an emotion that you’ve seen somewhere before. “I didn’t keep it from you because I don’t.”
“What are you saying?” You can hardly hear your own voice over the sound of your heartbeat.
“Do you love me?” He steps towards you, adamant in receiving an answer. “Because I really need to know, man. I can’t do this without knowing.”
You try to gather your thoughts. All of the teasing, all of the little lost glances Satori would adopt, all of the secrecy. It was because he loved you? It was because he loves you? Even the thought feels heavy, like it’s coated in lead. The idea drops into the pit of your stomach, weighing you down and for a moment you think you may be sick.
Do you love him? Do you love him the way he wants you to? You look at him, fingers trembling.
“I don’t know,” you swallow.
“Come with me,” he pleads, “just come with me.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I don’t know,” he says, running a hand forward on his head. “Because I love you. Because you drive me insane. Because I didn’t even realize I was hiding it until it was too late to not be hiding it. I never meant to let it get this far I never- I never meant to make you cry,” he says, stepping forward and taking your hands in his. “You’re my best friend. I never wanted- I never wanted to lose you and I was so scared and I didn’t- I didn’t know what to do.”
You take in his explanation, nodding slowly. “So your solution was to say nothing?” You frown at him.
Satori stares at you. “I’m sorry,” he squeezes your knuckles, “come with me anyway. Even though I didn’t tell you. Come with me.”
You stare at him for a second, attempting to process the speed at which your brain is moving.
“I can’t do this without you,” he admits, letting his shoulders fall forward and casting his eyes toward the floor of his apartment.
This sends you reeling more than anything he’s said yet. Satori, by nature, is fiercely independent. He’s fiercely driven and internally motivated. Most people, when they meet him, can recognize this instantly. It makes the admittance heavy, like it’s waterlogged. You gape at him.
Your eyes follow the familiar planes of his body. His round, double-lidded eyes which are so familiar to you that you would know he’s watching you without even looking. The sharpness of his cheekbones. The undereye bags that you love so deeply. You follow the trail his cheeks make to his mouth, slightly parted and glossy with spit. His neck, leading down to his collarbone. The exposed parts of the muscles, now visible to you from any angle since he cut his hair.
He’s looking at you with a desperate, wild look. It would be frightening if it were anyone else, but it’s Satori. It’s your most loved person. The one person you could do anything with and be okay.
The boundaries which you’d relied on so often in times like this, don’t exist anymore. There’s no inbetween to fall back on, no safety net to keep you from falling completely. If you want you, you could give into this entirely. You don’t have to catch yourself. You don’t have to sleep on the couch. There’d be no more side-stepping and avoiding and wondering if you wish it or if you dread it.
“Okay,” you say quietly, inhaling. “Okay.”
Tendou looks at you for a minute, blinking. His face is so familiar and being able to look at it like this is like a homecoming.
“Are you still mad?” he asks quietly, his hands still gripping yours.
“Yeah,” you admit.
“Can I kiss you?” He breathes out.
“Yeah.”
Satori leans forward, bringing his hand to the side of your cheek gently. He’s so close. The boy you’ve known since 13. You can feel his breath on your face, trembling slightly as he draws closer. You screw your eyes shut as his lips meet yours. Familiar is the word that comes to mind. You’ve never done this with him before, but you can map out the way they look from the feeling of them alone.
You inhale sharply and Satori leans in closer, bringing his other hand to your face and deepening the kiss. He cups your face firmly with both hands, pulling you close to him as his shoulders drop and he lifts your face to get a nice angle. Everything about his touch is different, but somehow deeply familiar. It’s like you’re meant to be here like this with him. Like you’re meant to be in his arms, which your face cupped between his long, lithe hands.
He pulls away from you, leaving you dazed and breathless. Looking at him from this close feels like a privilege. It’s like you can see every single detail about him that you’ve ever loved. You reach up to touch his face, running your thumb across his under-eye bag.
“I’m sorry,” he says again, his lips swollen.
You shake your head. “I should have been happier for you.”
“Mmm, you always worry about other people like that,” he says softly. “I’m the one who acted like an asshole.”
“I still don’t want you to go away.”
“I know,” he leans forward, pecking your lips. “But it’s not for a little while. We’ve got time.”
You kiss him first this time, pressing forward until your lips find his. Tendou immediately licks into your mouth, deepening it with a groan and pulling your body flush against his.
There’s so much relief in touching him like this, in feeling the slip and slide of your skin against his. It feels right, so right that all of your previous experiences begin to pale in comparison.
He is so dear to you that it is overwhelming. All of it comes at once as he lays you on the bed, hovering over you with his eyebrows pulled together. Everything that he is is so dear. His hair, his smile, his low-lidded and heavy creased eyes. Oh, how you love him. Any anger slips away in the realization.
You’ve never seen him look quite so shy, nor so hesitant. His hands, which are usually so sure, run up your sides at an awkward pace, like he can’t quite get a hold of what’s happening. You feel that your expression mirrors his, that the pace of your breath betrays the nerves you’re feeling.
Satori hovers over you, his shirt pulled off to reveal the pale expanse of chest you’ve seen a million times. His chest heaves, like he’s out of breath, his round shoulders supporting the weight of him as he looks at you. His eyes betray a sense of adoration. It’s an emotion you’ve seen in him a few times, similar to the expression he wears when he plays volleyball. It looks like he’s being consumed. Then, he tilts his head at you and smiles. You smile back at him, reaching to hesitantly touch the back of his head and pull him close to you.
His buzz cut feels soft to the touch and Tendou gives in when he feels the warm pads of your fingers at the back of his neck. He lowers himself closer to you, shifting onto his forearms and then dipping his neck down to kiss you, beckoned by your gentle touch. You feel his knee press into the mattress between your legs and gasp when he moves it up to brush against your center.
There’s a strangeness to being touched there by him. Along with the relief of friction, comes the oddness of who. That’s not to say that it doesn’t feel right. It does, though to ignore the years of history between you two would be a disservice. That strangeness, however, only fans the flames of your desire. This is a part of him you’ve never seen before.
Satori’s fingers snake down your abdomen where your shirt has ridden up. They’re cold and you can almost imagine the round and somewhat pointed look of them. You glance between you both, admiring the knobby curve of his knuckles and the way he toys lightly with the elastic of your waistband.
“Can I?” he breathes out, barely above a whisper and so laced with desire that you almost think he might whine.
“Go ahead,” you exhale and he gives you a little smile before dipping two fingers between the folds of your cunt and pressing lightly on your clit.
You gasp, arching your back up at the cool sensation of it, slowly relaxing as he starts to move his fingers in a steady circle. When you open your eyes, you see that he’s watching you, his neck craned down to peer at the expression you’re wearing.
“Stop that…” you laugh lightly.
“Stop what?” he croons, pressing lightly at your entrance with the pad of his finger.
“Staring…”
Satori leans down and kisses you while sliding one finger in. You feel him smile against your mouth when you gasp, the corners of his mouth curling up delicately as his mouth leaves yours.
“You have no idea how long I’ve waited to touch you like this,” he says quietly, still against your mouth. Then, with that lovely upward lilt to his voice, “let me stare a little longer.”
You huff a little, fighting the heat rising to your cheeks and he laughs a little bit, kissing down the exposed parts of your neck.
“I could do this instead,” he hums, teasing a little as he pushes your shirt up and places a kiss between your breasts.
His lithe fingers cup up to cup your chest, pinching your nipple over your bra with two fingers as he smears his lips down your stomach. You don’t know how to respond, instead watching the rise and fall of his head with your breathing as he leaves a trail of kisses down your abdomen.
When Satori reaches your waistband, he pulls his hand from you and hooks two fingers around it, shimmying it down your legs.
It’s not as if you haven’t undressed in front of him before. Satori has seen you at your best, your worst, and all of your inbetweens. You’ve changed in front of him more times than you can count, even going so far as to skinny dip together the summer before college. Still, this time is different. This time, when Satori undresses, he’s looking at you with his eyes that see everything. He’s watching the expanse of your body, gaze crawling up each inch of exposed skin until his gaze rests on your now exposed cunt.
You let out a subconscious whine when his breath hits you and his lips curl up a little when you do. He rests his head on the inside of your thigh, looking up at you from between your legs.
“Feeling shy?”
“Obviously,” you force out, covering your face with your forearms.
“Aw, what?” he pouts. “Don’t hide from me.”
His voice is so sincere and so fond that it draws you out from behind your arms. He’s still looking at you, smiling from where he lays between your legs.
“There ya are,” he says, a lopsided grin spreading across his features. “I’m gonna touch you now.”
Then, he spreads you open with two fingers and licks one long stripe between your legs. You shiver, your hand instinctively flying up to his head where you grow frustrated that his long hair isn’t there to hold onto anymore. He gives you a small smile from between your legs, holding your pussy open, before dipping back down and securing his mouth around your sensitive clit.
Something about this is so deeply embarrassing. Maybe it's the fact that it’s Tendou, or maybe it’s because you haven’t had someone go down on you this well in a long time. Either way, you feel the humiliation in your teeth like sugar, your knees knocking inward every now and then when he hits a particularly sensitive spot.
Satori hums into your cunt every now and then, tongue lathing over your sensitive bundle of nerves. Everytime you twitch or gasp, he gives a pleasant little hum that you feel buzz through you, then he looks up to check on your reactions. His hands, which are so familiar you think you’d know them only by touch, wander over your thighs and up your stomach to your breasts. They don’t stay in one place for long, instead running all over your skin and leaving goosebumps in their wake.
You’ve always liked Satori’s hands. Ever since you met him, you’ve thought they were nice. They’ve got a gentle look to them. They’re big and his fingers are long, but they’re thin, with smooth and somewhat knobby knuckles from injuring them so often in volleyball. They’ve always been hands that you wanted to be touched by and now that they’re running softly over your skin, you find yourself shivering at the overload of sensitive touches.
Every one of Satori’s touches are gentle. Even his tongue between your legs, which winds the coil in your stomach tighter and tighter, is gentle in his appreciation for you. It’s like he’s experimenting ever so slightly, like he’s cherishing you while simultaneously figuring out what makes you tick. He already knows everything about you in a platonic sense, now he gets to learn in a sexual sense.
Still, despite the gentleness of his touches, it is all too much. His hands, his mouth, the feel of his tongue as he sucks on your clit. Even just the way he looks, eyes closed and brows pulling upwards, is overwhelming. He moves his face side to side slowly, smearing you across his face, before he looks at you with low lidded eyes.
The knot in your stomach tightens and you begin to swelter. Your face grows hot, lightheadedness flooding the space between your ears as you’re worked closer and closer to your high. You gasp, reaching to run a hand over his buzzed hair.
He reaches up behind his head and knots his fingers with yours at either of your sides. You squirm against him, desperate as you build higher and higher. Satori groans lightly as you choke out a light warning, trying your best to not sound as broken as you feel. He nods, lapping at your cunt with a flat tongue until you feel you are fit to burst. Your chest heaves, your head spins, you begin to peak and then, Satori stops.
Your voice catches in your throat. It’s a feeble, pitiful sound that catches and tapers into a low whine. You buck your hips forward, legs feeling like white-hot sandbags as your climax slips steadily away from you.
Satori tilts his head at you, giving a wry grin. His signature smile is coated in you and his mouth and chin glistens in a way that feels incredibly vulgar. You tremble lightly as he wipes his face with the back of his arm and sits back on his heels. You watch the heave of his chest, lean muscle shifting underneath pleasantly warm skin. Starry freckles dot pleasantly across his chest and you briefly wonder where on earth he got them.
As the frustration wanes, you find yourself wanting to be closer to him, desperate to build your high back up.
“I kind of liked that reaction,” he drones lightly, leaning over you as you beckon him.
“You’re such an asshole,” you breathe out, catching his mouth with yours.
He hums into it, lips curling as he kisses you softly.
“Uh oh,” he says against your mouth, “am I on your bad side now?”
“Yeah,” you respond, reaching down between you both to run your hand lightly over the bulge in his boxers, “the worst of it.”
Your response is absent-minded and quiet, not retaining your usually snarky attitude. Right now, the only thing you’re thinking about are the points of contact between you and Satori. There’s only touch.
Satori doesn’t respond, instead letting his head hang between you both as you reach under his waistband and wrap your hands around him for the first time. He’s long and not particularly thick and you drag your hand up the length of him just to test his size. Satori’s so hard that you think it must hurt him, his tip wet with precum.
He shudders over you, his shoulders tightening as you run your thumb over the tip of him. He’s more sensitive than you would have expected and you tilt your head slightly to watch the way he screws his eyes shut.
He looks so new to you like this. Everything is new. It’s so new, in fact, that you can push aside your own desperation in favor of witnessing it. Though the person is familiar, the situation is not. It makes you feel like a virgin. Well, it makes you feel like a virgin and not a virgin at the same time. You’re having fun just playing with him, running your fingers along the length of him. It’s like getting to show him what you know, all with the butterflies of a virgin.
You suppose he feels the same. Maybe that’s why he’s got his head tilted down, only looking up to give you a strained smile whenever the head of his cock brushes your slick cunt.
There’s so much feeling. That’s the only way you can describe it. There is so much feeling between you both, humming and shifting and pressing against your sternums from the outside, begging to be let in. It’s tangible between the two of you, so present that you think you could grab it with your hand, but neither of you move to take it. Instead, you press closer, letting it sit heavy in the air between your faces.
Satori doesn’t move to push himself inside of you and you don’t move to guide him there. Instead, you let the tip of him press lightly against you, running your fingers up and down it. The tension, made up of your frustration and feelings, balloons until you are certain it will burst. Your lower stomach winds and coils despite how gentle the touches are and desire makes its way into your throat where it sits leaded and heavy.
He groans lightly over you, his hips shaking lightly with how long he’s been holding himself there. You run one hand over the curve of his shoulders, feeling the way the lean muscle shifts as he tenses and untenses.
Finally, he pushes past the tight ring of your cunt with a low whine and you move to wrap your hands around him. The pads of your fingers press into his back, leaving marks in skin that you’ve seen a hundred times over. He trembles over you and your focus is pulled between your legs where you feel the pressure of Satori there. He presses forward until his hips are flush with yours and you’re made breathless by the sticky pressure of his pelvis against yours.
He stays still for a while, tilting his head to the side to catch your mouth. You feel his breath come in quick bursts, but he never moves to fully kiss you, instead brushing his lips against yours as if to draw the desperation from it. You grow antsier by the moment, pushed to frustration quickly by the stillness of his hips and the distance of his mouth from you. When a low whine escapes your mouth, Satori smiles silently and flicks his hips forward once.
You tip your head back and Satori chases your mouth, finally kissing you lightly as he starts to rock back and forth.
He finds a slow rhythm. It’s deep and overwhelming, each thrust pushing deep into you until you feel the press of pressure in your stomach. He doesn’t so much thrust his hips as he does roll them at steady intervals, pressing the tip of himself up and into that gummy spot inside of you.
You’re sticky between the legs. You can feel it each time he pushes into you, dripping from your pussy down to the mattress. Satori smears it with his hips on purpose. You can tell from his expression that he’s enjoying the mess, his familiar face watching for your reactions as he experiments with you.
“You’re so fucking pretty,” he says through gritted teeth. His hand comes up to brush the side of your cheek.
You don’t know how to answer, cut open by the affection in his voice and the way pleasure sews itself through.
“You’ve always been so pretty,” he says again, bending down to kiss your neck. “But you’re even prettier like this. I don’t want to share it.”
You shiver, “Then don’t.”
Satori hums lightly, dragging his mouth down your chest to take a nipple in his mouth. He speaks around it. “I like the way you sound when you try and talk while I’m fucking you. Talk s’more.”
The sentence is so dirty that it feels like your face is lit on fire, “No.”
“Come on,” he teases, popping your nipple from his mouth and sitting up completely. He hits you deeper like this and you feel him twitch inside of you. “Just a little?”
“Satori,” you whine a little, breathless. “I’m embarrassed.”
“Of what?” He questions, reaching to take your hand and press it to your stomach.
“I don’t know,” you grunt, gasping when he adds pressure to your stomach.
“Of that?” he grins, fucking his hips into you sharply. You can hear the sound of your wetness.
“Yeah,” you gasp, “that.”
“Don’t be,” he mumbles, leaning over you again to speak against your mouth. “It’s really hot.”
Your stomach flips, turning over as the pressure and his words come to a head in the space between your ears. Your cheeks heat and your stomach seems to roll beneath your skin. You’ve heard Tendou say all sorts of things about all sorts of people, but for some reason, the idea that he finds you hot sends you syrupy.
“Satori,” you breathe out, tipping your head back to let him nip again at the sink on your neck.
“Hm?”
“Nothing,” you sigh. “Just wanted to say it.”
“Again,” he says, punctuating his sentence with his hips.
“Satori.”
He groans, laughing a little. “Sounds different when you say it now.”
He’s right. You’ve said his name a million times, but it sounds different now. There’s more intimacy to it, like you’re not just calling to him, but for him. The distinction to you is important and the sharp sound of the syllables leaving your mouth only serve to heighten your desire.
Pressure mounts in your gut like water against a dam. You feel it build there while Satori presses his hips deeper. You repeat his name, embarrassed but calling out for him nonetheless. He obliges every time, meeting your pleas with heavy sighs that give away the closeness of his peak.
“I’m gonna-” you choke, grabbing at his shoulders.
“Yeah, baby,” he breathes, “me too. Whenever you’re ready, okay?”
You nod, meeting your high with a dizzy head. Satori holds you still while your hips buck and your knees buckle beneath him. He follows not long after, spurred on by the press of your thighs around his hips.
It takes a long while to come down. The haziness fades away but even after several long minutes, the glow does not. It sticks you to both like summer heat, inescapable and rich. Satori plays with the small baby hairs by your forehead and you let him, resting your cheek on his sticky chest. You’re not sure of what to say. It’s difficult to orient yourself.
“Shit,” he mutters softly.
“What?” Your stomach drops.
“Nothing,” he says, running a hand down his face. “I think I’ve just got it way worse for you than I thought.”
“Oh,” you say, nodding, letting silence settle over both of you before you break it once again. “I think I love you.”
“Yeah?” he says quietly, lifting his head from the pillow a little.
“Mhm,” you say softly.
Satori presses his smile into the side of your head.
“I’m a little nervous,” you say, laughing quietly.
“Of what?” He grins. “That you’re gonna like me too much?”
You slap his chest lightly, “Definitely not.”
“Harsh,” he laughs a little.
“I’m nervous because what if things don’t work?” you admit quietly. “We’ve known each other for so long, Satori, but what if one day we can’t stand each other? What if in the future we don’t even talk anymore?”
“You trying to jinx it?” he laughs a little.
“No,” you pout.
“Well, look,” he says, lips curling in the corners, “there’s no way in hell I could ever get tired of you and I’d never let you get rid of me. I’ve been haunting you since we were 13 and I don’t really plan to stop.”
“Haunting?” You scoff. “You know, Satori, you’re really fucking weird.”
“That right, baby?”
“Eugh,” you laugh a little. “Gross.”
Satori shrugs.
“I’m still upset you didn’t tell me about France either.”
“I know,” he says a little softer. “I really-”
“You don’t have to defend yourself,” you say. “I think I’m just going to be mad about it for a while. You’ll just have to put up with me.”
“Okay,” his voice sounds small and you turn over onto your stomach and press your forehead to his chest.
“Everything feels so complicated now,” you say softly.
“Hey,” he tilts your chin up. “Do you love me?”
“Yeah,” you answer, fighting the heat rising to your cheeks.
“Good,” he says, giving you a boyish grin. “I love you too. That’s not so complicated, right?”
The words of affection feel strange in the same way new shoes do. They fit, but they’re foreign. You have to orient yourself to the way they make you feel, but the joy of wearing them hums to life in your chest like a stringed instrument. Satori’s lips curl into a cheeky grin and the expression is so familiar that it makes you ache. It’s mischievous, like he’s not quite being serious and if you didn’t know him better, it would make you nervous. But you do know him better. You nod lightly and let his smile infect you the same way it has since you were 13.
The glow remains.
—
Sa-to-ri <3: you ready?
You: ya coming now.
Sa-to-ri <3: kk i’m outside.
Your heart leaps into your chest. It swells there, heavy and affection filled. When you step outside, Satori looks up at you, pressing his palm to the wall behind him and pushing forward in one fluid motion. You watch recognition flash across his face the same way you feel it flash across yours and then, his eyes soften. His lips melt into an affectionate and easy going grin as you approach him.
You fly down the steps, unable to choke back the small laugh bubbling at the back of your throat.
“Satori,” you breathe as he takes you into his arms. You bury your face in the extra fabric of his sweatshirt, inhaling his familiar smell.
“Hi,” he chimes softly. You feel him rest his head on yours then, he sways a little bit.
“I really missed you,” you sigh, unwilling to let go.
“I missed you too,” he laughs a little and you feel his fingers come up to cradle the back of your head.
How long has it been since you’ve seen him? Four months? Maybe five? Since moving to France, he’s come back to visit once for only a few days and though you talk to him on the phone almost every day, it’s not enough. It’s never enough unless he’s here.
When you pull away, he takes your face in both of his hands and looks at you like he’s cataloging everything that’s changed about you since you were separated. His eyes trace the lines of your face and yours do the same to his.
“You got prettier,” he smiles lightly.
“Liar,” you laugh a little.
“Nope.”
Satori leans forward and places his mouth on yours gently. You suck in a sharp inhale, heart racing against your ribcage. Even a year later, he still makes your heart leap out of your chest. You missed the way he tastes, relieved to finally be able to taste him again.
“You buzzed your hair short again, baldy,” you laugh, reaching up to run your hand over the spiked surface of it.
Satori rolls his eyes, They glide upwards as his head follows the motion of them and then, he scuffs the tip of his shoe against the floor. He’s wearing a pair of worn black high top converse. You’ve seen them many times before in the entryway of his old apartment, but in his time away they’ve become so well worn that they’re gray in certain areas.
Tendou gives you a wry smile. It’s a ghost across his face as he narrows his eyes a bit in a familiar way. “Easier to manage this way at school.”
“Mm, I bet. You sure you’re not just losing hair?” You tease.
“Even if I were, I think you’d date me anyway.”
“You got me,” you laugh, turning to walk down the street with him.
Satori’s fingers automatically tangle with yours. You feel his knuckles slide past your own, the tips of his fingers cool but his palm warm and wide. Your mind runs at a mile a minute and you realize that you have no idea what to say to him. Right now, his familiarity and your longing for it are overwhelming. All of your thoughts are abstract and the warm, fuzzy feelings are unplaceable. They live in your throat.
Instead of talking, you look over at him. The hair he’s just recently buzzed again highlights the delightful round shape of his head and you think it suits him. He looks clean and trimmed, something unusual for Satori, but you don’t find yourself missing his shoulder length hair. Instead, you like this metamorphosed version of him, somehow grown from the man he was when he left. You resist the urge to reach up and run your hand over the top of it again.
It’s nearly 9pm and, as usual, the sidewalk is littered with people on their way home or out with friends. Girls pass Tendou in the street with little glances. They peek to the side as he walks past them, admiring the sway in his step and the alluring way he slouches forward the way they always have. These same girls giggle into their mouths the same way they always do. It’s easier to see now that you know how to feel about him, that Tendou is attractive. He’s always been that way, but now, as these girls whisper about you being his girlfriend, you find yourself giddy to be able to say that you are.
You take stock of him beside you. He’s long and lean, staring ahead at the building just beyond the sidewalk in its seemingly endless stretch into the sky. His eyes slink back and forth between the screens illuminating the street with ads and every now and then, his gaze will stop on one he finds interesting and he will squeeze your hand. You watch him through the corner of your eye until you have to look away.
The walk to the ramen shop is longer from your apartment than Tendou’s old one, but it’s familiar. You’ve not been back there since Tendou first moved to France last September. Still, each step that you take feels so natural that you could do it blind.
When you reach the familiar ramen shop by Tendou’s old apartment, you notice that the blue curtains in front of the door have been replaced. The kanji is cleaner now and the bottom isn’t fraying quite the same way it used to. Tendou still holds them to the side for you, unlacing your fingers and ducking through the doorway after you. When you walk in, you find that now there are two ramen chefs behind the counter. The old chef, the one you grew up with, is toward the back of the bar and in front is a young man with features like his.
You settle evenly into the bar, smiling softly at Tendou when he looks at you. When the old ramen chef sees you, the corners of his eyes crinkle in a welcoming smile.
“It’s been a long time since you two have been here! What’s been keeping you away?” he exclaims, placing his hands on the bar. “The same usual orders?”
“Oh, this and that,” Satori hums. “I moved to France and they hate coming here alone.”
“That so?” The chef smiles.
You both nod and Tendou slips into an easygoing rapport with the man, leaning his chin onto his hand as he talks. You watch the way the muscles in his arm flex and the way the corners of his mouth curl into a smile, sinking quickly into the comfort of the space.
“You two together yet?” The chef glances between the both of you.
Satori leans back lightly, looking sideways at you before he shrugs his shoulders. He doesn’t offer a verbal answer and you find yourself following suit in his shrug.
“Yup, we’re in love,” you say, leaning forward and fighting the heat that rises to your cheeks.
The chef waits for your subsequent denial but when it never comes, he smiles knowingly and pats the counter softly. He doesn’t offer his usual chiding remark. There’s no reason to anymore and instead he turns to fix your bowls. The soup will take 8 minutes to prepare. You have 8 minutes to sit here with Tendou and ask him everything you want to ask before you both become inevitably engrossed in your meals the way you always have. Tendou no longer adopts that signature spacey look he would have at times like these.
“How’s Paris?” you ask.
Tendou’s eyes slink along his lower water line and he turns his head—still resting on his cheek—to look at you. “It’s good. Kinda cold. Make sure you bring lots of jackets.”
You nod and think back to your apartment, filled with boxes that will be moved out and shipped ahead to Tendou’s Parisian apartment. All of your things, your life, are packed into those boxes. Scores of memories and matter, evidence of the years spent with him, neatly organized to be transplanted somewhere else. The apartment itself doesn’t matter much though, your home, you’ve found, is wherever he is.
“Yeah? How’s school?” You lean forward to be closer to him.
“Really good,” he sighs a little. “I’m really happy. Gonna be happier when you’re out there to see me graduate though.”
“I’ll be there to see the other stuff too, like when you open your own shop.”
“Mhm,” he laughs a little. “Did I send you the picture of the new place I was thinking of?”
You shake your head a little. “Not yet, show me now.”
Satori gives you an excited grin before he pulls out his phone to show you. The tab is already open on his phone, like he’d been staring at it only moments earlier and daydreaming about his future there. It’s on a street corner with big glass windows. The space looks empty from the photos, already cleared out and ready for him to move in.
You can just barely see past the clear glass door into the cozy space inside. In fact, it looks to be only a little larger than the ramen shop you’re in now.
“It’s got an apartment upstairs,” he says, a little quieter now. “I was thinking we could tour it once you get out there. I’ve already put in an application.”
You bite back a giddy smile, the prospect of living with him becoming more real as he talks to you about it. There are several things you’re grateful for since you started seeing him, though perhaps one of your favorites is his continued openness with his wants and feelings. Even this small conversation makes you feel loved in a way that you have trouble describing. It’s so full that you have trouble swallowing it.
“‘Course, you’ll stay with me in my old apartment till it’s all squared away,” he smiles a little. “I’ve got enough room, though it might be a little tight.”
“I hope so,” you laugh a little, rolling your eyes. “I’m really relieved.”
“Relieved? Why?” He gives you a small laugh. “You like being that close to me?”
You shrug a little, rolling your eyes at his gentle tease. “I was worried you’d get out there and realize everything was wrong… or something.”
“Weird of you, but okay,” he laughs a little, playing with your hand on the table.
“Though you’d really be fine anywhere,” you laugh a little. “I think you’re just that kind of person, Satori.”
“Only if you’re in my corner,” he says, giving you a sly grin. You shove his arm at the cheesy remark. Despite dating for a little over a year now, things like that catch you off guard. After all, in hindsight, being with him like this was the next natural step, you’d just been too stubborn to see it.
It’s been a long while since the two of you have spoken in person and you soak him up like sunshine. He seeps into your skin through proximity alone. The distance made you nervous at first. Though you’ve gotten over the initial lie that separated and then brought you together, for some reason there was still some part of you that felt that when Satori left for Paris, he was leaving forever. You know now that that feeling was just your affection for him, but it doesn’t make the relief any less sweet.
You can recall the teary-eyed confession he made like it was yesterday. The image of him with his hands at his side, asking if you loved him is burned into your brain. If you could go back, you don’t think you would change a thing. Your only regret was not being able to formulate those vague feelings which became so overpowering earlier. If you’d known earlier, you’d have been able to have loved him longer. You’d have been able to consciously love him the way you do now, the way you think you always have. Loving Satori comes easily, like breathing, up until that summer you’d just been too young and dumb to see it, your head underwater. It’s only been a little over a year, but hindsight is 20/20.
When silence falls over the two of you, you lean close and let him scroll through the pictures from his time in France. You’re so deeply content. You’re so prepared to move to be near him, so ready to take that next leap and follow where he goes. It’s a secure feeling, one that grounds you in the moment.
The chef places two bowls in front of you and Satori perks up, sliding his phone away and moving to crack garlic into his soup. He hands you the chili oil, remembering how you like yours and you smile warmly when his eyes meet yours. If you could, you’d kiss him right now just for remembering. The smell of ramen wafts up in thick clouds of steam, hitting your face with warm and heavy moisture as you lean over it and inhale.
“It’s none of my business but,” the chef says, clearing his throat a little, “you both have been coming here for a long time and I think you’ve grown into fine young people. Take care of each other.”
You’re too emotional to find the words, but the chef looks at you with something of a fond stare. He’s known you both long enough to understand to some degree how long it’s taken to get where you are. You stare with a childlike wonder, unable to say anything to this man who created the space you found so inviting through your adolescence, but Satori finds the words easily.
“It’ll be my privilege,” he smiles, the corners of his mouth turning.
It’s such a simple statement, but it’s definitive and somewhat serious for Tendou. It implies longevity, the kind that lasts a lifetime. He sounds so certain of himself that you find yourself nodding firmly beside him, heat rushing to your cheeks.
“Eat up, kids,” the chef smiles, glancing between you both and patting the counter with a smile.
Tendou thanks him and you stare at the noodles in your bowl, feeling oddly introspective. What you’re feeling now is not quite elation, nor is it indifference. The best you could describe it is as a hopeful nostalgia. Beside you, Tendou begins to slurp at his noodles and when you glance sideways at him, he meets you in the middle. You can’t help but mirror him when he smiles around his chopsticks.
You eat your ramen through idle conversation. Tendou talks about his future shop and you talk about the job you’ve managed to secure overseas with your previous experience from the company you’ve worked at the past year. You both have stable jobs now and it’s strange to talk about your future together as if it has already arrived.
Suddenly, you are in your third year again, discussing futures that have long passed after an evening practice. Satori is in his volleyball sweater, concealing a sweat-drenched uniform, and you are wearing your skirt with sweatpants underneath it. That’s what this feels like. You’re no longer in the in-between. There is no precarious balance between past and present. There is only future. There’s only the future that you’re living in and the one you’ve both begun to make with each other. The in-between, that space between adulthood and adolescence where present and future find their middle ground, is finally beyond you. Though you can sit here and glance behind to recall all of those little choices, you’re here now, already arrived at the place where all of it has always led you.
Two people, two collections of memories, each winding and twisting in their own individual ways. They’re what makes you both, the decisions that have brought you to this inevitable finish and this endless beginning. You remember the choice to say yes and it is with a nostalgic fondness that you realize, in all of your future glory, that there are more choices to come.
In this little ramen shop where your past meets your future, you and Tendou Satori, the boy you’ve known since 13, in the after.
#tendou x reader#tendou satori x reader#tendou x reader smut#tendou satori smut#tendou smut#satori x reader#[ 📕 – writing ]#WAAAGHHH OKAY TEE HEE IM FINALLY POSTING SOMETHING NEW LOLL
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
Kildare Split Part One: Angel
Chapter One: Angel
Rafe Cameron x Reader
Note: Thank you all for commenting, liking, reblogging, and interacting with the KS smau's! I really appreciate you all and thought that I would give you a little treat for being so nice. I can't sleep so here is part one of Kildare Split's story, more specifically y/n and Rafe's. Hope you have fun getting to read about the behind-the-scenes. This is absolutely not edited.
Warnings: none, bad writing, Rafe being mean.
Word Count: 3,710
Synopsis: Everyone has noticed that there's been a shift in how Kildare Split acts around each other. Rafe and Y/N used to be so close, they were always pictured together, and always shared stories of each other and for the last few years, there has been nothing from them. A behind-the-scenes look at what went down between everyone's favorite band.
The audience claps as the interviewer closes out the interview. The four of them stand up and start shaking hands with the man. One of the Jimmys or Seth or maybe even Jack. She doesn’t know. She just wants to leave. She’s so tired. It’s been such a long day of pretending.
Y/n’s the first one to make it backstage, she breathes deeply, her back against a wooden panel.
“Hey, you okay?” a voice comes from behind her. She puts on a smile and nods her head.
“Yeah, Top. Fine.” He nods and gives her a half smile.
Things aren’t the same as they used to be. They haven’t been the same in so long. Two years? Maybe three. Everything is such a blur. Time mending together. Touring helps a lot. It helps time pass, and it helps distract her. Being on stage helps too, that’s the only moment that she can pretend that everything is okay and believe it. She can look at Rafe and smile at him and it feels like before.
Topper leaves her alone, he goes back to the guys, hanging back with them as they talk to their manager. She walks into the dressing room, gathering her stuff and waiting for Sarah to text her that they’re ready to go.
Rafe walks into the room, alone.
“Good job tonight.” He doesn’t look at her. He just starts shoving his belongings into a tote, grabbing some extra snacks that the show provided them.
She’s so angry. Even still. Even after all this time. She wants to scream at him, beg him to explain himself but she can’t. So she stays quiet.
“This has to stop.” He says, pausing his actions, still not looking at her.
She looks at the back of his head. His hair starting to grow out from when he buzzed it, bleached from his album shoot.
She wants to speak but she can’t. It’s like the anger chokes her up, this ball of fire stuck in her throat and she can’t get a word out because all that will come out is lava. She wants to hurt him. Wants him to feel a fraction of what she felt. And even then, she doesn’t even know if she’s in the right. Two years later and she’s still mad at him, even if she shouldn’t be.
Sarah tried telling her to talk to him, to work it all out for the sake of the band. From her perspective, the band hasn’t suffered. The band is doing better than ever and she thinks that she deserves an award for not killing Rafe on stage.
Sometimes she wishes she could put everything behind her and just try and be his friend again. They may never be best friends again, but she could speak to him at least. She thinks she’s civil with him though. He’s not dead so that says something.
Rafe just sighs and sits on the counter, pulling out his phone. He’s probably texting her. His girlfriend. No, the fiance. The one he cheated on her with. Or well, sort of.
+++
Rafe and y/n met when they were 10 years old. She was friends with Sarah and always went over to her house. She thought of Sarah as her best friend until she met Rafe. Maybe it was love at first sight or a little kid crush but she grew attached. She would not leave him alone. Luckily for her, Rafe was the same way. He always followed her around, asking her to play when he saw her on the beach, at school, or if their parents ran into each other at the grocery store.
They became inseparable and soon they added two new faces to their duo. Topper and Barry. It was early on that they knew what they wanted to do with their lives. They would put on shows for whoever wanted to watch. They would sing at the top of their lungs and smash around on every surface they could find.
Soon after, y/n had asked her mom to put her in guitar lessons. She picked it up quickly but she always enjoyed singing more. She had bragged to Rafe about how fun her vocal lessons were and he convinced his father that he wanted to join too. It was contagious because soon enough, Topper and Barry had each claimed an instrument that they practiced every day after school for hours. They drove their parents insane.
Rafe said that they couldn’t have two guitar players in the band and Topper refused to drop lead guitar so y/n did. Rafe was mad at Topper first but y/n reassured him that she could pick up bass quickly. They became Kildare Split on a blisteringly hot summer day in Barry’s garage. Sarah, John B, and JJ watching their rehearsal. After that, they played shows whenever they could. Dive bars, small fairs around town, and busking outside venues where established bands were playing.
It took them from the ages of 12 to 17 to get discovered but they never let up. When they finally got signed to their label, y/n remembers crying in Rafe’s arms. She was so happy, their dreams were coming true and she was doing it with her best friends.
Little did she know that everything would fall apart so fast.
Childhood is pretty much lost when you’re playing stingy bars full of drunk people and drugs at 12 years old. She thought that it would get better once they had protection from managers and label heads. She was wrong. It almost became worse. Drugs were everywhere. At 17 getting drugs offered to you by a 50-year-old man who controls your entire career is pretty terrifying. She didn’t think she could say no. The boys didn’t think they could say no. It was intense. Some of them made it out better than others, and the others, well, that’s the downfall of fame at such a young age.
There was an entire year where she probably spent half of it high out of her mind. She went from doing it out of fear of losing her career to craving it, needing it. Rafe was the same way. Topper had tried to help them both but they were too far gone. She remembers going on talk shows, but not which talk shows or who they talked to or what they talked about. She looks back on those days and feels a pit in her stomach. Losing such a big chunk of her young adult life that she can’t relive hurts.
That’s when it all started. She was high and drunk, and Rafe was high and drunk and one thing led to another. They had never crossed that line before. After her initial crush went away, she had never thought of Rafe that way. When it happened, it felt like someone had thrown a bucket of cold water over her head. She woke up the next day and immediately regretted it. She apologized to Rafe, told him that it could never happen again and bolted.
That’s when she cleaned her act up. She couldn’t risk their relationship, for their friendship and the band.
One thing she should have known is that Rafe didn’t care. He wanted her and he was going to have her. And who was she to shove all her bottled-up feelings back in their little box? Who was she to deny him?
So they start their little song and dance. At first, they keep it hidden from everyone. If Topper and Barry were to find out, they would be so incredibly upset and they would tell them to stop.
She can’t stop. She doesn’t want to stop. Not as long as Rafe wants her.
She gets clean and she tries to help Rafe get clean too. He relapses time and time again, crawling back to her, asking for another chance. She’s been there, she knows how hard it is to get clean so of course she gives him all the chances he asks for.
They hook up on and off for a year. They never become anything official because Rafe isn’t in the headspace to be in a relationship. He needs to focus on himself and she wants to help him and if he needs her to be his friend, that’s what she’ll be.
“You’re friends with benefits with my brother,” Sarah says stunned. Topper and Barry had found out and ran to her to get her to talk some sense into Rafe and y/n.
“It’s not like that.” Sarah looks at her incredulously.
“Are you or are you not fucking my brother?” y/n doesn’t know how to respond so she stays quiet. Sarah is scary when she’s mad.
“It’s not because he’s my brother, y/n. It’s because of what he means to you.” y/n shakes her head, smiling softly.
“Sarah, I promise you, it’s okay. Rafe and I have an agreement.” Sarah sighs and looks at her with concern.
“I just don’t want you to get hurt.” She should’ve taken Sarah’s advice. She should have put a stop to everything that minute everyone found out. She was too far gone for him though, she couldn’t leave him, not when he needed her.
Everyone warned her. Everyone told her that it would end badly.
“I just want you to know that if he does something, those boys will choose him. You’re the odd variable y/n, know that.” Cleo had said to her one night when they were in the tour bus, the boys off on a run.
“I am just as important to them as Rafe is.” Or she had thought.
On one stupid drunken night she tells Rafe that she loves him. He gapes at her not knowing what to say.
“It’s okay, you don’t have to say anything.” She understands, of course, she does. It’s not like that between them.
The doesn’t stop her from crying in Barry’s arms about it. She hiccups and sobs into his chest about how much she loves him and how he will never look at her that way. Barry just listens and holds her. She falls asleep in his arms. She feels so safe with him. Her best friend.
Shit hits the fan all at once and so fast.
Sarah sits her down one night after a show. Her adrenaline is still pumping, she wants to go jump around with the guys and run laps around the venue.
“Sar, can we do this later?”
“This can’t wait.” The tone in her voice brings her back down to earth. It’s serious.
“What’s wrong?” y/n knows it’s about Rafe before Sarah opens her mouth. She feels it, there’s a shift in whatever the hell universe she’s been living in. Her face feels hot, her ears are ringing, and she feels like she starts to shake.
“Rafe is seeing someone.” Of course, he is. She’s y/n she’s just his friend.
A friend that he sleeps with. A friend that has stayed up all night with him as he detoxed. A friend who drove him to and from meetings, that drove him to rehab and told everyone that he was on vacation. She was the person that he would run to when any little thing went wrong, she held him as he cried about their career not going anywhere and having to go back to work for his dad. She let him sob in her arms about all the shit that they have been through during the lift-off of their career. She was there for him, always for him and he promised her. He promised that he would always be there for her that it was only her. That he only ever wanted her and when he got his shit together they could be together. He told her that he wasn’t sleeping around. He didn’t have time for girlfriends, he didn’t have time to put in the work on a relationship because he could barely put the work into himself. He told her that she was the only one he was ending his nights with and waking up in the mornings with. He promised her the world and it was all just a lie.
Just as fast as her body starts shaking, it relaxes, she takes a deep breath and looks at Sarah, the look of concern still on her face.
“Who?” she asks lowly.
“This painter, named Sofia.” The name rings a bell. She thinks she’s seen her call Rafe a few times.
“That’s okay. We weren’t dating.” Sarah’s concern grows so y/n smiles at her.
“Let’s go back out there.”
“Do you want me to call Cleo?” Sarah asks.
“I’m good, Sar.”
And she is. Or at least she’s trying to be good. She has no right to be angry. They weren’t dating. He doesn’t owe her anything.
They walk into the room where the guys are playing video games. Waiting for the fans to leave the venue before it’s safe for them to leave.
“Hey! Great show tonight angel!” Rafe says looking away from the screen at her. She gives him a short smile, her face pensive.
Cleo’s words ring in her head, those boys will choose him those boys will choose him those boys will choose him.
She knows all three of them like the back of her hand. Topper's lip quivers when he lies. Barry doesn’t look you in the eyes. And Rafe, Rafe’s ears turn red.
She has to know if the two boys, men, that she grew up with and calls her family, would keep that from her.
“So who’s Sofia?” She watches as all three of them tense. She’s looking between Barry and Topper but she sees Rafe turn to look at Sarah with anger between his brows from her peripherals.
She looks for the cues and hopes that she can’t find them. It’s hard to miss when Barry doesn’t look up from his controller but is frozen, quiet. She looks at Topper, his mouth open, trying to find something to say.
“I don’t know, some person we commissioned probably.” She can’t help the breathy sob that escapes her lips when she sees the quiver on Topper’s.
She swallows hard, she turns to Rafe, shaking her head at him and backing away.
“You’re a liar. You’re a fucking liar. All of you are.” She backs into the hallway, her eyes still floating from one to the other.
“y/n-” Topper moves towards her but she holds her hand out and cuts him off.
“No. Stay away from me. I never- I-” she chokes on a sob. “ I never would have done this to you. Don’t talk to me, don’t follow me, just stay away from me.” She turns on her feet and books it out of the room and hallway, she hears Rafe chewing Sarah out but doesn’t stay long enough to hear what Sarah says.
Things are awkward, to say the least from then on. She stayed in her bunk and silently cried herself to sleep. She wants to go to him, ask him what she could have done, ask him what happened and when he knew he wanted to stop things with her. He doesn’t come to see her that night, or the next night or the night after that.
At first, she thought it was because he was giving her time to cool off but on the third night of complete silence from him, she walks into the dressing room of their show in Nashville and a pretty girl with short hair sits on the couch.
“Hi, I’m Sofia. You must be y/n.” She extends her hand out and y/n takes it.
“Nice to meet you.” y/n says.
“You too, sorry about how things went down.” Y/n scrunches up her nose, her head tilting.
“What?” She asks.
“I mean, I knew he had to choose eventually, he just didn’t get the chance to tell you.” She feels like she’s going to throw up. She wasn’t planning on hating Sofia, but she knew. Sofia knew that y/n existed and she still kept on seeing him.
She walks out of the room.
That same night, everything changed. If he had just apologized, if he had told her that he fucked up and he was too drugged up to think clearly, she would have forgiven him. That’s not what happened.
She runs into Rafe in the lunch area and can’t hold in all her feelings. She needs to know what he’s thinking and wants to ask him to explain himself.
“Rafe?” He doesn’t acknowledge her.
“Can we please talk?”
“God Y/n, I don’t want to fucking talk. I’m so goddamn tired of you moping around this place like you have any right.” He explodes at her, his face red.
“What?” She’s shocked, he’s never talked to her like this.
“You’re just some girl I fucked okay? I needed to get off and you were always there. You were just a fuck. I don’t care about you like that.” He pauses. His words sank into her like knives.
“I’m going to get clean for her. Sofia, she’s worth it.” He walks out of the room without saying anything else to her. She feels her eyes start to water, chills running up and down her body.
How could he be so cruel? How could her best friend of so many years say he doesn’t care about her? How could he disregard her feelings and belittle her to be just someone he fucked? She thought they were friends. She believed that they would come out of this situation unscathed but he didn’t even see her as a person.
The people she thought cared about her most in the world, didn’t care about her at all. They all chose someone else. They didn’t choose her.
She had never felt so alone in her entire life. And for the first time since they started their journey as a band, she wondered if any of it had been worth it.
+++
“I don’t think it can stop.” It’s the first time you’ve spoken to him directly and not on stage or in an interview in years.
“What do you mean?”
“I’m going to move out of LA, back home probably or New York with Cleo and Pope.”
“y/n.” It’s not Rafe’s voice saying her name, it’s Barry from behind her. She turns around and looks at him, looks past him and Topper, and then back at Rafe.”
“I think we all know this has been building up and it’s getting really hard to pretend all the time so um-yeah I’m going to go, I need a break after the tour’s over.” She gulps down the ball building in her throat. She needs to get through this. She hates putting the band on the back burner and hates that she’s to blame.
“What are you talking about?” Rafe asks her, getting off the counter.
“It’s just a break. I think we should announce a prolonged hiatus and just do our own thing for a bit.”
“We have an entire third album to record,” Rafe says incredulously.
“I’ll keep writing and you can send me the vocals you want me to lay down. It’ll be fine.”
“You’re breaking up the band over some stupid grudge?” Rafe asks.
“That’s not what I’m saying. I just need some time.” It’s not a grudge.
“You have got to be kidding me, y/n, come on. I know how much you love touring and making music.”
“I do,” her voice breaks, “I just need time away from all of you.”
“You need a break from us? What did we do?” Barry pipes in.
“You left me alone. You let him,” she points at Rafe, “belittle me and make me feel like nothing. You isolated me for two years.” Rafe scoffs.
“You did that yourself.” He sounds hurt more than he does angry. He’s different now. He’s better in a way. He hasn’t apologized to her but he’s good now. He’s clean. He got clean for Sofia. Because she was worth it and y/n wasn’t.
“Because I was hurt, Rafe! You broke my heart. I fucking told you that I loved you, I was honest with my feelings for you and you never said anything back and then you told me you didn’t care about me!”
“I wasn’t in my right mind.” The tears are still gathering in her eyes but she refuses to let them fall.
“If you had just apologized to me, this wouldn’t have happened but you said some nasty shit and never looked back and I was just so alone.”
“Do you know what it’s like to have no one to talk to on tour for months on end? That’s what I have had to go through for years because I don’t trust any of you! Because you hurt me and never apologized.”
“I’m sorry. I know it’s late but I’m sorry.” Topper is the one that speaks up.
“Thank you, but it’s too late. I need some time. I need to heal so that the band can continue because I don’t think I can do this for much longer if I stay.” Topper nods, agreeing with her. She gives him a thankful smile and breathes in deep.
“Okay, so we finish the tour, and a week or so later we announce that we’re going on a break. We’ll still write and record and we can even release the album but I won’t be doing press for it.” She looks at all three of them and nods. There���s a finality to her words. No room for argument.
“And you have your solo album to figure out and do press for, maybe you can even tour it. You’ll be fine.” She says to Rafe, more words than she had said to him directly in a long time.
“I’ll see you all soon.” With that, she walks out of the talk show’s dressing room, towards the exit of the building. She was going to finish up this tour. She could do that and then she could rest.
#rafe cameron imagine#kildaresplit au#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron#outerbanks au#rafe x reader#rafe obx#rafe cameron au#rafe cameron smau#rafe outer banks#rafe x you#rafe fanfiction#rafe fic#rafe imagine
297 notes
·
View notes
Text
Dean x Reader: SMUT
“Stopping the Hunt”
Prompt: Dean shows up every time you finally “get over him.” Sam goes to hell and Dean comes to you for refuge. However, you already have a boyfriend. Dean gets jealous and you get angry.
Warning: angst, smut, depression, Dean being jealous
Dean’s arms just do something to me
💜•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••💜
The hunting life never has been your thing. Ever since you were one of the victims of a vampire attack, you’ve kept an eye out for the supernatural. That’s how you met Dean Winchester. He was everything you wanted in a man. Protective, strong, caring, he’d do anything for you or his brother Sam. However, you knew that you could never have a relationship with Dean, just due to how his life is. He’s always on the road and put into dangerous situations. He’s nothing but a phone call and a fuck buddy every now and then. You always wanted more though. He was irresistible. Little did you know, Dean felt the same way.
You’ve moved on from Dean Winchester though, you think to yourself. Sometimes..well all the time you think about him. Sometimes romantically, sometimes not. After you started dating your current boyfriend, Edward, you decided it was time to move on from Dean. You’d never be able to have a relationship with that man. Never more than just an occasional booty call.
Tonight is date night. You shouldn’t be thinking about Dean Winchester anyways. You’re going out to have fun!
-I’ll be there in 10
Edward- Okay, I’m at the bar meet me there. Usual spot
You sigh and look into the mirror while fixing your hair. Today you decided to have it down, natural. You glance over your body, making sure the little black dress doesn’t have any stains on it. You decided to wear makeup tonight, wispy lashes, eyeliner, and some faint red glossy lipstick. You pucker your lips together, checking for any cracks and then reapplying some more. You rub your lips together making sure they’re covered. You take one more look at yourself before you grab your heels and purse.
The nightlife was always fun. You always like to try a new drink everytime you go, you’re very adventurous. On the day to day life your more to yourself, but once the alcohol comes out you’re very extroverted. Making new friends, meeting new people, dancing and singing the night away. Sometimes a drink fixes your worries, washing them away as the night goes on. Washes away Dean, all the supernatural shit you’ve seen, all their deaths. If you could take it all back, you would. You never wanted to be a hunter, you never wanted to know about the supernatural. You’ve never wanted to meet Dean.
As the night goes on the more progressively drunk you get. Heels come off, and no fucks are given. You grind against Edward in the bar, dancing along with some friends who stopped by. Edward grabs your hips, swaying them side to side against his cock. Maybe other things were taken that night other then alcohol, but it sure as hell felt amazing.
The night always ends in your bed, skin slapping and moans fill the air. Sheets on the mattress had lifted up and pillows fallen off the bed.
The morning always ends the same too. Alone.
You look over next to you in bed and Edward has already left. He never stays around anyways. Life sometimes gets lonely. Your parents aren’t around anymore, few friends live in the same state as you. Before Edward you were hanging out with random girls at the club and bringing home one night stands. Going to work, eating, drinking, fucking, then sleeping. Sometimes you’d occasionally look at a case online, send it to some hunters and go on about your business. People like you..who know what’s out there aren’t meant for happy endings.
You finally get out of bed. Sliding into some ugg slippers and long tee shirt with nothing underneath. You head over to the kitchen and begin to brew some coffee when a knock at your door gets your attention. Heart pounding you head over to the door. You look out your peep hole and gasp. Before you open the door you go to your pantry and grab some holy water along with a silver knife. With shaky hands you unlock the door and open it. Immediately you throw the holy water and cut the person.
“(Y/N)!” Dean yells out, “I’m not a damn demon. Or a shapeshifter. It’s me!”
“Dean what the fuck are you doing here?” You demand. Last time your encounter didn’t go well with him. You were stupid enough to tell him how you felt and he left the next morning. Typical.
“It’s a lot but I promise to explain if you let me in.” Dean says, hope glistening in his eyes.
You could never resist him. As much as you wanted to you couldn’t. “Fine. I’m making coffee. Sit your ass down and tell me what the fuck happened.”
Dean smiles and sits down at the dining room table. “Same as I remembered it. A little updated though. Looks good.” Dean looks around your house.
“Where’s Sam?” You ask Dean, setting down a cup of coffee in front of him. Dean immediately takes a sip, groaning as he swallows, “So good (Y/N).” Dean groans, “I’ve been all over the country but they never make coffee like yours.”
You laugh to yourself. It’s nice for someone to appreciate you once in a while. Even if it’s Dean doing the appreciating. “I let you in so now you have to tell me what’s going on. What did you and Sam get yourselfs into now?”
Dean takes another sip and sets the mug down, his demeanor changing. He begins to tell you the story about letting Lucifer about the cage, Lilith, Sam being Lucifer’s vessel. “Sam is in hell, (Y/N)..with the devil himself.”
You gasp, covering your mouth with your hand. “Oh my god-goodness Dean.” You correct yourself. Maybe God shouldn’t be mentioned in this senerio. “Whats the plan to get him back?”
“There’s no plan.” Dean says looking down.
“Where do you plan on staying?”
“I have Baby.”
“Dean…” You say, placing a hand on his broad shoulder. “Why don’t you just stay with me for a little. I have a comfortable couch, Baby has a parking spot.” You smile down at him. You could have sworn that his emerald eyes were tearing up. Before you could look at him better, Dean turns his head away, wiping his face. “So what’s going on with you?” Dean asks. You weren’t going to admit you already had a boyfriend just yet. “Oh just the same old shit.” You chuckle, looking around nervously.
“Don’t tell me you’ve met someone?” Dean says, “I can tell when you’re lying.” 
“Ok yeah I met somebody. But it’s no big deal.” You say.
Dean seemed almost irritated when you admitting to it. “I shouldn’t stay.”
“Dean, no I insist.” You plead. As much as your and Dean’s relationship is strained, you never want to see him hurt. “How about we get some breakfast?” You ask, trying to change the conversation. Dean thinks for a moment but ultimately said yes.
•••
After breakfast with Dean, everything was back to what it was. Laughing, flirting a little bit, telling stories. Sam wasn’t mentioned during that conversation though. You know Dean will bring it up when he wants to.
“Please make yourself comfortable.” You tell Dean. “And let’s have you take a shower huh?” You squeeze your nose in between your fingers and Dean pushes ur arm jokingly. Dean brings his belongings out of the impala, just two duffle bags and some guns.
“We can buy you a little dresser so you can put all your shit in. Sorry I don’t have another room for you.” You say to Dean as he begins to walk up the stairs.
“No (Y/N), you’ve already done a lot. No need to worry about that…well maybe I could use some soap. I don’t want to smell like flowers and rainbows.” Dean laughs.
“It’s mixed berry, asshole!” You yell at him going up the stairs.
Moments later you hear the water turn on. You smile to yourself. Dean Winchester living in your house. You began to imagine yourself with him, but those thoughts are quickly wiped away when your phone buzzes. Edward. Right. You’re dating Edward, you have been dating Edward for the last couple months. Edward is normal. Edward has a future for himself. A stable job, family, friends, a home. Edward is good for you. You sigh out loud, frustrated with yourself thinking about Dean. Dean will eventually leave anyways. Unless he’s done hunting. But he won’t ever stop hunting. Your mind races back and forth. You decide to answer your phone.
“Hello?”
“Hey baby. The bar is having some event tonight, rock and roll music and shit. Want to come? Just meet me there.” Edward says.
“Oh sure. I’ll be there tonight.” You say and end the phone call. Fuck. Maybe you can just leave Dean here and go out.
You decide to clean up to distract yourself from thinking about the two men. You hear the stairs creek as Dean comes downstairs. You turn around and look at him. The sight of him made you breathless. Combed, wet hair dripping onto his tight grey shirt. He’s not wearing a flannel, so his large muscular arms are showing, veins going down them to his hands. His jeans fitting him perfectly, you could see every inch of him. Your eyes wander to his groin area, slightly seeing a bulge through the jeans. For once you don’t see him wearing shoes but only white socks.
“I definitely used up all your hot water.” Dean laughs, running a towel through his hair to dry it.
“What a gentleman.” You say to him. Guess you’ll have to wait to take a shower too.
“If you would have joined me you could have had some hot water too.” Dean winks at you.
“Uh huh in your dreams.” (Or maybe yours) “Soo..” You begin to say, “Tonight at the bar they have a rock and roll night. Want to join? Get some drinks, meet some girls?” You say.
Dean thinks for a moment before saying yes. “Is your little boyfriend going to be there?”
“Yeah he is, but he won’t be a bother. He usually talks to his friends anyways.” You say.
The rest of the afternoon is going great. You do some errands with Dean and Baby of course. It was nice not to drive all the time. It felt nice having Dean drive you around, taking you wherever you wanted. You get some burgers for a quick lunch and head back home. Dean turns on the TV while you put away the groceries and clean up around the house. Dean walks over to the porch and looks at to your backyard. “You need to cut the grass. Do you have a lawnmower?” Dean asks.
“I usually just pay somebody to do it. Clearly it’s been neglected.” You say, standing out on the porch with him. Your yard was fenced in, perfect for a dog.
“Guess I’ll just have to do it tomorrow.” Dean says.
A warm feeling goes through your body as Dean says that. You could imagine him cutting the grass, getting all sweaty and you throw him a beer. When he comes inside you make him some food and make love in the shower after-
“If you do that I’m going to pay you.” You say to Dean quickly.
“You’re already letting me live here. That’s the least I can do for you (Y/N).” Dean looks down at you. The sun shines on his skin perfectly, making it golden. His green eyes have little bits of yellow and blue in the suns rays. You notice Dean looking at your lips, traveling down to your collarbone, and down to your breasts. You get embarrassed from him looking. He’s already seen you naked before, many times. Dean licks his lips as he looks back up into your eyes.
“I’m going to get dressed.” You leave him there on the porch. You run back up to your room and shut the room quickly. Your heart races. You cannot get involved with Dean again, at least romantically. He will leave. He always does. Tears begin to form in your eyes but you wipe them away quickly. Maybe you did love Dean, but you could never admit that- not even to yourself. If you did you’d just get hurt.
You put on some makeup once again. Wispy lashes, eye liner, lip gloss, highlighter and blush. You put on a small dress again, with some heels. As you begin to walk down the stairs you get nervous about Dean seeing you. “Are you ready to go Dean?” You yell out as you walk down the stairs.
“Yeah I’m-“ Dean stops in his tracks, mouth wide. You could have sworn to see his bulge grow through his pants. “Goddamn (Y/N).” Dean practically drools. He eye fucks you with his green eyes, not missing a single inch of your body. Your hair to your plump glossy lips, breasts pushed up from your dress, your legs and thick thighs exposed, he was even infatuated with your beautiful feet in those sexy, scandalous heels. Dean gulps multiple times, hands beginning to sweat, increasingly getting aroused by your figure. Dean grabs your purse for you along with his leather jacket. You guys get into the impala and head to the bar.
It was already packed by the time you two got there. Music loud, tables filled. You lead Dean over to your usual spot at the bar and order drinks for the two of you. “(Y/N)!” Edward comes over, obviously already drunk. He slings his arm around your shoulder and slyly squeezes your left boob. You jump in your seat, startled by the sudden grope. Out of the corner of your eye you see Dean’s nostrils flare, lips puckered in annoyance.
“Edward uhm, this is Dean Winchester. He’s my friend from a while back.” You say.
Edward makes an effort to be touching you. He sets his drink onto the bar counter, standing behind you while you sit in the chair. One hand on your shoulder, and one on your thigh, almost completely underneath your already short tight dress. “So you’re the one (Y/N) used to talk about huh.” Edward chuckles.
You mentally face palm. Fuck you forgot you told Edward about how Dean left you once. Dean clenches his jaw, passes a side eye to you. He takes a sip of his drink and sets it back down. “And I haven’t heard anything about you.” Dean pulls an angry grin.
“Ahh alright how about we have some shots!” You yell to the two of them. “3 shots please!” You call out to the bar tender.
“We’re about to start another game of pool. Dean, you wanna join?” Edward asks.
“I’d be happy to.” Dean takes the shot like water. Edward also takes it, slightly grimacing at the taste. You shake your head and take your own shot, immediately ordering another one after.
Edward takes you by the waist and walks you over to the pool table, Dean following behind. Some of Edward’s friends join in, along with some strangers to watch. Rock and Roll plays, Eye of the Tiger starts up, getting the bar riled up. Edward starts first, getting a ball into the hole. He grabs you by the hips afterward, standing behind you he presses his clothed cock against your ass. You intently watch Dean durning his turn. His muscles flex when he moves, shirt fitting him tightly, riding up his back as he leans over the pool table. You knew Edward was no match for Dean playing pool. Dean hit three balls in durning his turn. He turns around, smirking at you and glares at Edward. Edward goes next. Dean stands close to you durning your boyfriends turn. You could smell his cologne, god he always smells so good. The side of your hip brushed against him a couple times as you move around a bit, each time you touched slightly you felt shivers down your entire body. Maybe it was the alcohol hitting.
As they play, the more increasingly angry Edward gets. As they play, the more cocky Dean gets. Edward begins to not notice you anymore. Durning one of Edward’s turns, Dean wraps an arm around your shoulder, pulling you in close. “You’re beating his ass.” You whisper over to Dean, standing on your tippy toes to reach his ear. He chuckles, looking down at you and smiling. “We need to play again sometime.” You laugh and bump him with your hip, causing his hand to fall and wrap around your waist instead. You felt dizzy from Dean’s touch. “I guess you just want me to beat your ass again.” You jokingly tell Dean. Everytime you play, you would always beat him and Sam. They would always say that you’re cheating. Dean slightly squeezes your love handle as he begins to pull away, “How about you grab us some more drinks, huh sweetheart?”
Shivers get sent down to your pussy. His husky voice never fails to make you wet and horny. When you get to the bar, you take two shots of your own, and bring a tray to the pool table. Dean and Edward finish the tray themselves, trying to out do each other.
Everything is blurry at this point. Dean, Edward, and you were clearly wasted. The pool game finishes, and of course, Dean wins. Everyone cheers out for Dean, including you. Without thinking, you jump into his arms and hug him. Dean holds you up by your ass, your legs wrapped around his waist. “Shots for everyone!!” Dean yells. Everyone heads over to the bar. Besides you. When you get off Dean you begin to walk with him and the crowd, however Edward holds you back into the crowd. He grips your wrists tight, causing it to hurt. “What the fuck was that (Y/N)!?” He yells at you.
“Get the fuck off me! You’re drunk!” You yell at him, trying to swat his hands away. His grip only tightens and he begins to pull you to the bathrooms. “Get off me!” You yell at Edward, trying to pull away. He slams you against the wall, head facing it. “Why the fuck are you hanging out with Dean Winchester?” He spits, grabbing your hair into a ponytail. Panic spreads through your body. Fight or flight. Well, you ain’t no bitch, you’re a fighter. You slam your head backwards, head bumping Edward. He falls to the floor dizzy. For a minute you could have sworn his eyes turn black. Doesn’t matter if it was your eyes playing tricks on you, you were out of the bathroom in a second. Hurriedly, you squeeze through the crowd in the bar, trying to find Dean. “Dean!” You yell out. You can’t find him. You exit the bar and begin to call Dean. No answer. Fuck fuck fuck. You take a breath to calm yourself. Putting your hair up into a ponytail, you begin to head back into the bar. Before you even step foot, the door opens, revealing Dean.
“(Y/N)! Where were you? Are you okay?” Dean asks worriedly. He grabs your shoulders and look down at you, scanning your face. He looks down at your wrists and they are red. “That motherfucker.” Dean grits his teeth. He gives you the keys to Baby. “Sit down. I’ll be back okay?”
“I feel like I saw black eyes.” You say.
“I’ll go in there with that expectation.” Dean says, looking at you. He stops for a second before pulling you into a tight embrace. “I’ll be back okay?” He repeats. You nod your head and begin to walk to Baby.
Not even 5 minutes later Dean comes out the bar, fists clenched. A pissed off expression covers his face. He slams the door when he enters the impala.
“Stupid ass fucking piece of shit Edward Cullen is not going to contact you again.” Dean murmurs. He steps on the gas and drives you back home. The car ride was quiet. Somehow along the way Dean had placed a gentle hand on your thigh. You accepted it, placing your hand ontop of his. You let down Baby’s windows, needing to feel the fresh air.
You and Dean enter your house. He helps you take off your heels and makes you sit on the couch. He takes off his jacket and sits next to you. You lay your head down onto his shoulder, sighing. “What is this, Dean? What are you and me?” You ask. The alcohol is still making you bold. Dean must still be feeling the alcohol too. Your glossy eyes look at each other for a little bit too long. “I want you, (Y/N).” Dean says. “Dean…I can’t do this if you are going to leave again.” You whisper. Dean’s eyes shine, a sorrow expression on his face.
“He wasn’t a demon, (Y/N).” Dean says. “For once, I’m thankful it wasn’t. I’m tired, (Y/N). I’m done hunting. I want to start over. I want to start over with you.”
Your lips crashed against his wet, plump lips. He gently grabs the back of your head, pulling you in closer. You moan into his mouth. Your tongues dance together and you French kiss. Dean lifts you up and places you into his lap. You grind down onto his already hard bulge. Your dress has already lifted up all the way, exposing your black lace thong. Dean moans at the sight of you. He lifts your dress off your body, immediately kissing and licking the top of your breasts. You grind down harder on Dean, needing to feel more friction against your clit. Dean takes your bra off, exposing your breasts to the cold air. He takes one nipple at a time, licking and sucking, swirling it in his mouth getting it hard. He massages your other boob in the process. You beg Dean to take off his shirt. He obliges, exposing his abs and muscles. Dean kisses all over your neck, collarbone, and down to your titties. You needed more of him. “Dean, baby, please I-“ He cuts you off with a kiss, his fingerings beginning to trail down to your soaking wet pussy. “Baby you are so wet for me.” Dean groans. You grind against his fingers, trying not to moan loud. Dean lays you down onto the chaise of the couch, while he is on his knees at the bottom of it. He pulls your thong to the side, exposing your pussy to him. His thumb slowly and gently rubs your hard clit, circling it. He begins to taste you, moaning as he does so, lapping all your juices like he’s thirsty. You swore you could have just come undone by him tongue fucking you. When he adds a finger into your soaking wet hole you scream. “Fuck Dean!” You feel as his thick, long fingers fill your hole. He curls them, hitting your spot. With his other hand he continues to rub your clit. One hand grips onto his dirty blonde locks, while the other is trying to grab onto the couch. Dean chuckles watching you unfold in front of him.
“Dean I’m going to cum.” You cry in urgency, moaning out his name. Dean decides to add another finger inside you, stretching you out with his three fingers. With another flick of your clit, you tense up and shake, and cum with a cry out. He doesn’t stop though, he rides out your orgasm, fucking you with his fingers and playing with your engorged clitrous. You body feels warm, like you’ve been sweating. Dean pulls his fingers out of you and gives you a long lick, your hole to your clit. You shudder.
However Dean is not finished with you. He unbuttons his pants, pulling down them along with his boxers, his cock popping out. Dean gives it a couple strokes, looking at your body. “Come here baby.” Dean instructs. He has you sit up on the couch while he stands. You greedily lick his cock from his balls to his tip, swirling your tongue around the tip of his penis, then planning your lips around it, sucking it to the base of his cock, choking at the length. Dean moans your name and gently holds your hair up for you, out of your face. You massage his balls with your hands, while you fuck him with your mouth. Dean cusses and shivers as you deep throat him. Dean makes you stop, pulling you up to kiss him, tasting his own cock in his mouth. Dean smacks your ass a couple times and swings you unexpectedly over his shoulders. He carry’s you up the stairs and lays you down onto bed, missionary style.
“I’ve missed you.” Dean moans into your ear, stroking his cock. “I’ve missed everything about you.” He kisses you, placing a hand on your neck, holding you in place.
Dean puts your legs over his shoulders and slowly slides his large cock into your vagina. You feel your walls opening up around him, gripping his cock tight. He begins to pump you, whispering sweet nothings into your ear, telling you how sexy, and beautiful you are. How much he cares for you, how much he loves you. He’s making love to you. You moan his name out, his dick pumping deep inside of you, making your toes curl. “Dean you feel so good inside me!” You cry out, your nails trailing down his back making red marks. Dean groans into your neck, leaving sloppy kisses and hickeys along it. “If you keep on talking I’m going to cum.” Dean chuckles, making his pace faster.
“Cum for me Dean. Please cum for me!”
With that, Dean pours his cum straight into your pussy, you could feel his dick twitch strongly inside of you. His pulls out, and his cum leaks out of you. He gets off of you, and lays down behind you, pulling you into an embrace. He snuggles his face into your hair, breathing in your scent. “I won’t leave you, (Y/N).”
•••
The birds chirping in the morning wake you up. You roll over to find the bed empty. You sigh, typical. You throw on an oversized tee and head down the stairs, however a smell of fresh coffee, bacon, eggs, and pancakes fill you senses. There Dean is making some breakfast for the two of you. He didn’t leave.
“Good morning, sweetheart.” Dean smiles at you, bringing you over a fresh cup of coffee. He places a kiss on your forehead as he does so. “So I’m thinking today I can go and buy that lawnmower…”
The end
Or is it?
#dean winchester x reader#dean x reader#spn#spn fanfic#dean x reader smut#spn one shot#dean winchester x you#dean x y/n#dean x you#dean winchester#deanwinchtser#dean x female!reader#dean smut#spn imagine#spn smut#smut#spnfandom#supernatural fanfiction#supernatural x reader#supernatural
328 notes
·
View notes
Text
Smiling Critters HCs!
( Mostly Dogday and Catnap )
I’ve gotten interested in Poppy playtime, especially with the smiling critters and me and my sister literally just came up with random hcs and scenarios for them if they had a cartoon. So now I’m sharing the ideas.
Catnap always sleeping.
Dogday and Catnap are the main characters of the show, but Dogday is the only one who is actively committing the role.
( Not to be confused with this being a thing where they are acting in the show or anything. Like, they’re literally just in the show. If that makes sense )
Catnap, in every episode, is either sleeping, observing what’s going on and not really participating that much, or not in the picture in that episode. In this is just something with every episode of the series.
He can sleep automatically, just drop to the floor and knock out. So I feel like he’d use that ability to his advantage, to get out of trouble.
Scenario: Miss Delight comes into the critter’s playroom (?) and asks if anyone ate the last of the cookies and milk without permission.
Everyone is confused, because they’re all saying they didn’t do it. So they just assume someone’s lying, and they argue about it.
Catnap’s asleep somewhere in the corner.
He was sleepy before, but he made himself look busy with napping so nobody would suspect he ate the cookies and milk.
2. Copycat ( Literally an episode name me and my sister created. We are the best brainstormers ever ).
Dogday and the rest of the smiling critters are always trying to get Catnap to play with them/participate in what they are doing.
I imagine Catnap as one of those characters in cartoons that are semi-nonverbal, and just aloof, definitely. So he doesn’t speak much. He can, just doesn’t.
This is an early episode, apart of S1 or something, when they still haven’t heard Catnap say much of anything to them. Sure he plays with them sometimes, but the instances are little to nothing.
They’re in a park for recess, the smiling critters are just playing around with each other and everything. Catnap is in a tree trying to sleep.
And like in literally every episode/day, Dogday notices that Catnap isn’t hanging out with them, so he and his friends goes up to the tree and calls for him.
They all keep calling Catnap’s name, trying to get him to join their game of tag. And little do they know Catnap is kind of tired of their sh** and noisy pestering.
“Hey Catnap, come down and play tag with us!” - Dogday.
Catnap finally turns around to acknowledge the critters, looking down at them from the tree.
“Hey Catnap, come down and play tag with us.”
He purposely mimics what Dogday says.
And Day just replies with a small ‘what?’.
The critters all look at each other, swearing they just heard Nap speak.
“What did you say, Catnap?” - Kickin Chicken.
“What did you say, Catnap?”
Now the critters are actually shocked.
“Catnap, did you just speak?!” - Bobby Bearhug.
”Catnap, did you just speak?!”
He does this enough times to confuse everyone now. And then they actually start to get weirded out and they call Miss Delight.
”Miss Delight, Catnap is acting strange!”
Then Nap walks in suddenly, staring at all of them ( Kind of creepily ), as he says,
“Miss Delight, Catnap is acting strange.”
This continues for the whole episode. Just him copying what his friends say. But ONLY if it mentions his name. Because he’s tired of them always calling his name anyway.
I don’t know how the ep might end, but the smiling critters still bother Nap after the episode his over, and as he has already stopped with the copycat game. That is also deemed as the first time in the show that Catnap has spoken. Not the last, obviously, he continues to talk whenever he needs to, but it’s still kind of seldom.
3. Dogday’s allergies.
Dogs can’t eat a lot of things, so I think Day would not be allowed to eat a lot of things like a realistic dog.
It’s an episode where the critters are enjoying themselves during a picnic, Delight isn’t really around because it’s not a school day.
Picky Piggy offers some cookies to everyone that she made herself, and everyone takes one. Except for Dogday.
His excuse is that he oddly always feels sick whenever he eats chocolate chip cookies specifically, so he doesn’t try to eat cookies much.
Picky just pulls out another cookie flavor, oatmeal chocolate chip, and gives it to Day.
Day takes it, thinking that since this isn’t chocolate chip, it wouldn’t make him feel sick!
After eating two of those cookies, he does in fact feel sick. His stomach hurts and his bones exhaust.
Miss Delight makes him feel better with some special stomachache medicine or something.
All of the critters are confused and curious about this, so they try giving Day other cookies because they think not being able to eat cookies is just devastating.
So the whole episode they all make Day taste different cookies, to see which ones make him sick and which ones don’t. Not like an experiment, just to figure out why can’t he eat cookies like the rest of them.
At the near end, Day feels terrible, and they all go to Delight this time, enlightening her about the cookie problem.
And it instantly clicks to Delight once the children tell her what kind of cookies they’ve been giving to Dogday. M&M, double chocolate, cocoa confetti, and even red velvet cookies.
“Children…. You know, dog’s can’t eat chocolate, right?” - Delight.
They all did, in fact, not know that. Miss Delight tells them about it, and they finally understand why Dogday keeps feeling sick when eating cookies.
By the time Day’s also came to the realization, he vomits, the episode ends.
The next one is probably about Day’s friends taking care of him because he’s sick.
Which leads to my next hc anyways.
4. The conclusion of Dogday that Catnap doesn’t like him.
The reason why Dogday thinks that Catnap doesn’t like him, is because it somehow always seems like Nap is trying to kill him.
One of the instances, he’s always giving Day things he can’t eat.
Literally right after the cookie accident, only two days later, and Catnap gives him a treat of chocolate chip cookies. And milk. Both things Day cannot eat.
Scenario: The smiling critters are having breakfast together, in Miss Delight’s house as she makes them pancakes, eggs, bacon accompanying with vegetables and fruits of their choice.
Nap is sitting next to Day. He has pancakes and purple grapes, he loves grapes. Day has bacon and blueberries, giving that he’s not allowed to eat pancakes ( Diary ) and blueberries being his favorite.
Nap decides to be nice, and give Day some of his food, since he heard from Delight that sharing is caring.
He gives Dogday a grape to show kindness.
And Day only looks at the grape kind of confused. He asked why Nap would give this to him, and Nap doesn’t answer.
So Day just gently placed the grape back on Nap’s plate, telling him ‘no thank you’.
Then a minute passes, Dogday looks over at one of his friends for a bit of a second, and turns back at his plate to get another blueberry.
He sees a blueberry bigger than the others that wasn’t there before. It’s actually purple and not blue.
And oh. It’s a grape.
He turns to Catnap, and sees that the cat is only happily eating his pancakes and grapes. But still gives the fruit back to Nap.
“Sorry, bud, I can’t eat this..”
Catnap looks at him, and doesn’t say anything.
Dogday still side glances at Nap for a little while, to see if he’d do anything. Nap doesn’t do anything. He looks back at his plate. And is utterly bewildered on why all of his five blueberries are gone and why they’re now five purple grapes.
He swears Catnap did not move.
He doesn’t know that Catnap just used his long tail to put the grapes there.
Now he can feel Nap’s eyes on him, and knows he’s expecting him to eat the grapes, so he’s a little nervous.
Day doesn’t eat the grapes, and just tells Miss Delight that Nap keeps trying to get him to eat grapes.
Also, after the cookie accident, Miss Delight thought it was good to teach the kids about what their kinds ( Their animal kinds ) can and cannot eats especially dogs like Day.
Catnap was not listening the whole lecture, so he really has no clue why Day didn’t take his grapes.
I’m gonna make a PT 2!
#a different post from my regular tbhk content#poppy playtime has caught my attention#smiling critters#poppy playtime#poppy playtime chapter 3#catnap#dogday#picky piggy#kickin chicken#bobby bearhug#miss delight#poppy playtime catnap#poppy playtime dogday#poppy playtime kickinchicken#poppy playtime bobby bearhug#poppy playtime picky piggy#poppy playtime miss delight#random post#funny hcs#smiling critters hcs#random thoughts
263 notes
·
View notes
Note
I’m kinda in the middle of writing a little fic too but inspiration sucks
okay but anyway how about a little fic where spencer and reader are having just a quiet evening they made a nice dinner together and are just sitting on opposite ends of the couch doing their own thing maybe reader is crocheting (wink wink) and spencer is reading/doing Spencer-y things and they just find peace and comforting in this type of parallel play/ quality time together
i know it sounds boring but it sounds peaceful to me to have that kind of security and love that doesn’t need any words. and I think Spencer would love that too
Parallel Play
yes of course bestie!! i love this idea thank you <3
wc: 883
Spencer Reid is secretly a quiet man.
At work, he could go on a rant or a ramble at the drop of a hat. He knows so much inside that beautiful brain of his that once he starts going on a topic, he wants to talk until he’s explained everything. Honestly, he could do a 15-hour Ted Talk if you let him.
But at home… at home he��s quiet. They both are.
Sat on opposite sides of the couch, Spencer has his feet up on the coffee table, he’s leaning back against the cushions with his Nintendo Switch in his hands resting on his chest, pretty close to his face as he works on a tough level of the newest Zelda game. He grew up never having any video games, so now, in his 40’s he’s finally getting the chance to experience the wonderful worlds that exist in the palm of his hands. His girlfriend, however, has her feet in his lap, she’s extended across most of the couch with her back against the armrest as she crochets a new pattern she’s been wanting to make. Even their cat has joined them, laying between her legs and the back of the couch, she’s all stretched out and sleeping away with both of her favourite humans at home.
They’re so happy like this. Just quietly enjoying their time off while still together, still touching, they have a comfort show on for background noise and its perfect.
She looks up from her project every once and a while, either because Spencer has mumbled something at his game or the current episode they have on is getting interesting. And each time she does look up, she finds herself staring at Spencer with a little smile. He’s just so cute like this. Totally enthralled in his game, his brows furrowed as he concentrates and his jaw a little clenched when it gets hard.
When he finishes his level, or when he just pauses to have a breather, he reaches down to her feet that are resting in his lap and he grips her ankle. He runs his hand up and down her shin a few times, soothing himself and her in the process. He takes a few sips of water, he watches a couple minutes of the show and then he goes right back to his game. Still completely silent. Still completely content.
By the time she’s done her crochet project, it’s a little after midnight and she’s tired. “Spence,” she whispers to him.
He just hums, his brows go up to show he’s listening but his attention is still on his game.
“You wanna go to bed soon?”
He nods, “Let me…. Finish… this,” he says while mashing the buttons, clearly working on something. “And then we can.”
“Okay,” she agrees. She moves her feet off his legs carefully so as to not scare the cat, but she wakes up anyway. She picks her up and gives her a couple pets as she moves in closer to Spencer’s side.
“You okay if I watch?”
He nods again, she only asked because sometimes the pressure of someone watching him play makes him do worse. But this time he’s fine with it. She leans her head on his shoulder and cuddles into his side to watch him play for the last few minutes of their quiet time together.
She watches without a clue as to what is going on, he defeats a boss, he wins the level and he lets out a deep sigh as he clicks the game off and sets it down in his lap. He lifts his arm so he can wrap it around her, letting her snuggle in even closer to his chest and he kisses the top of her head a few times. “Tired?” He asks with a whisper.
“Yeah,” she whispers back.
“Let's go to bed,” he encourages, patting her arm gently.
She gets up with the cat still in her arms, Spencer turns off the TV and all the lights and meets her in the bedroom. She let the cat down on the bed and she immediately curls up into a ball at the foot of the bed, clearly also ready for a long night's rest. They change together, they brush their teeth together and then they slip under the covers together, too.
The lights go off, they lay turn to face each other, each snuggled into their pillows, and they sigh almost at the same time. It hasn’t been a long day, but they’re still both exhausted.
“I love you,” he says into the darkness.
“I love you,” she replies with a smile. She leans in just a little closer and kisses him, once, twice and a third time for good measure. “I had fun today.”
“Me too… we should do this more often.”
“We really should.”
Then they go quiet again. She rolls over to her other side, letting him spoon into her the way he always does at night. He wraps his arm around her middle, his hand resting on her stomach, he kisses her shoulder blade re situates his head on the pillow. “Goodnight, love.”
“Night, Spence.”
And that’s how they fall asleep. Quietly, in each other's arms, perfectly content with the little life that they lead.
#Spencer reid#Spencer reid smut#Spencer reid fanfiction#Spencer reid fanfic#Spencer reid imagine#Spencer reid x reader#Spencer reid x y/n#Spencer reid x you#Spencer reid self insert#Spencer reid request#criminal minds smut#criminal minds imagine
707 notes
·
View notes
Text
Blessed Silence
Summary: You haven't known silence for eight years after your soulmate link manifests as a telepathic connection.
Pairing: Tech x reader, soulmate AU
Warnings: NSFW, unprotected sex, unrealistic first time sex, Soulmate AU so feelings just kinda happen, reader does have a sort of backstory but everything else is ambiguous, reader also is written as female bodied
A/N: I had most of this written, but I just needed some motivation to finish. Turns out avoiding feelings is a good motivator for writing smut. I kinda like this one. It was supposed to be a short fic, but it wound up sorta long. (This is the cut down version too, it was longer.)
MASTERLIST
Your brain hasn’t been quiet for almost eight years.
It was near non-stop, constant chatter about anything and everything. Things from battle strategy to medical knowledge to ship specs, planets, species and languages you’d never even heard of. Your brain was full of it all the time.
The worst part? It wasn’t even your doing.
You had questioned for a long time what your soulmate link might be. Most species have them, and they vary depending on each unique link. From marks to timers to telepathy the list goes on and on. You’d know, you frequented that list often.
Many, many times you had gone through every option on that list, waiting for something to seem right. You had no marks, no timer, no strange dreams, no color blindness. For years you had nothing. You had wondered perhaps if there was something that had been missed, another way soulmates might present themselves that was unknown.
Or maybe, you didn’t have one at all.
Until about eight years ago when the thoughts had started. They’re not your own. The voice isn’t yours whispering them. At first you had thought you were going crazy, hearing some voice going at rapid speed in your head.
Reading back through the list had made you realize what it was.
You had a telepathic connection with your soulmate, and the nonstop chatter was your soulmate’s mind.
It really is nonstop.
The only time it quiets is when he sleeps, and that is sporadic and only in short bursts.
At first it had been enchanting. You had laid in your bed for hours, listening to his voice think about anything and everything. Quickly, though, it had grown to be almost annoying because he never stopped thinking. Always his brain is going, thinking of things that don’t even make sense to you sometimes.
That being said, he has been helpful to you a few times. You forget he can also hear your thoughts, since he was almost always drowning you out. A few, sparing times, he had helped you, like when your speeder broke down and you were determined to fix it yourself to avoid overpaying for a mechanic. It wasn’t that hard to figure out, but upon looking at various parts in the shop, you had drawn a blank on what you needed.
Then, whispering quietly in your mind, your soulmate had told you which parts to get, and had walked you through repairing it. You had thanked him, and then got a barrage of mechanical knowledge and more facts about speeder designs than you had ever wished to know.
As much as it annoyed you, hearing his voice constantly was reassuring. Your home planet had been entirely untouched by the war, but you had seen news about horrible battles leaving planets permanently scarred and millions homeless. You know he’s involved somehow, given the thousands of battle plans and strategies that flooded your mind constantly.
It makes you feel a bit better that he has a good reason for not actively looking for you.
It’s not like you were actively making an effort, but after you had realized he was probably involved in the army, you had squashed that thought quickly. You did want to meet him, if only to slap him for keeping you awake with his constant thoughts, but you weren’t searching him out.
Fate would allow your paths to cross eventually. Right now was not the time.
Then the war ended. It’s rather abrupt, with hardly more than a holocast from the Galactic Senate announcing the end of the war and the formation of the new Galactic Empire. You had never cared much about politics, or the war, because your planet wasn’t likely to ever feel the effects of any of it. Largely ignored due to its rather inconvenient placement away from hyperspace lanes and tucked into a far edge of the outer rim, your home was frequented only by those looking to hide. It’s a good spot to do it.
Despite this, nothing about the end of the war or the new Empire felt right to you, mostly because your soulmate feels that way. There's little you can do about it, and it seems he also agrees.
The battle strategies begin to shift. Deserter is a constant thought in your soulmate's head. Had they left the army after the war ended? You can't blame them, especially as news begins to reach your planet about the Empire.
You wonder about your soulmate sometimes, if he's okay. You know he's not exactly safe, given the thoughts you hear.
Not once has he worried about you. Not once has he even asked. Not once has he tried to communicate. You blame it on his situation. You blame it on his stress levels which have been through the roof.
You try not to let it hurt.
So you go on with your life as you had before, desperately trying to keep your farm going. It’s getting harder as time and the planet’s unpredictable weather wears on your tools and your home. You fix what you can, and hope the rest of it makes it to the next harvest.
You’re in town looking for parts when it finally happens.
It’s been nearly six standard since the war ended and the Empire took over the galaxy. Your planet still remains untouched and unbothered, hidden away safely in its corner of the galaxy. Visitors are still rare, and usually draw attention when they come.
You’re haggling for a part when you notice a group of newcomers. Five of them, looking out of place as they talk amongst each other.
You can't help but overhear the conversation, given your proximity. Your body stiffens as you pick up one of their voices, many thoughts running through your head. You know that voice. You've never heard it in person. Only ever in your mind.
The emotions leave you like an explosion, your body turning before you can stop it. "You!" You point at the group, cutting him off before he can continue.
They all turn to look at you, but you're too focused on him. You walk up to him, grabbing him by the chest plate and shaking him.
"Do you ever stop thinking? I haven't known silence in eight years!" You jab a finger into his chest, ignoring the way your finger bends uncomfortably against the unrelenting plastoid. "It never stops. Always something going and going and going. Do you even sleep anymore? And, and you can’t even bother to let me know you’re okay? You...you can’t even ask about me either? I’ve been waiting a long time to even hear from you and all I get is useless facts?”
He blinks down at you from behind his goggles, mouth parted in shocked silence.
“Tech,” One of the others says, drawing you back to reality. You’re in a very public place, telling off your soulmate. “You know her?”
Tech. That’s his name? Or perhaps a nickname. He lifts a hand, adjusting his goggles as he stares down at you. He’s tall, having to tilt his head to look down at you, just as you have to tilt your head to look up at him.
“Yes, I believe I’ve just met my soulmate.” He says slowly. They all turn to look at you, making you feel a bit self conscious. “We share a telepathic connection. It’s one of the rarer forms of soulmate links, though not the rarest. It’s affected by distance, the further you are, the stronger the connection is.”
“Maker, he talks as much as he thinks, doesn’t he?” You say, taking a step back.
“Ha!” The largest of the group exclaims. “That’s going to be really loud for you!”
“Actually, it will be the opposite.” Tech says. “As the link strengthens with distance, it weakens the closer we are. At this proximity, we won’t be able to hear each other’s thoughts at all.”
“As interesting as all of this is, we’re supposed to be laying low, remember?” The one that had spoken up earlier says.
You can’t help but snort, looking up at him. He’s shorter than the others, and has a skull tattooed on half of his face. “No one around here is going to say anything. Well, they’re all horrible gossips because nothing ever happens around here, but don’t worry. They only talk amongst each other. If you’re looking to hide, this is your place. No one cares about this planet. It’s too inconvenient.”
“She’s right.” Tech says. “It took us two days to reach here from the nearest hyperspace lane. The Republic had no interest in this planet. It’s highly unlikely the Empire will even consider it, since it has a small population and no major exports.” He pulls out a datapad, typing rapidly on it. “According to my research there’s not even a starport on this planet.”
The one with the skull tattoo stares at you hard, like he’s trying to see through your skin. You can tell he doesn't exactly trust you. But, if Tech’s thoughts were anything to go off of, he doesn't have good reason to trust anyone.
“This may be our only option for the time being.” Another one says. He’s rather gaunt and pale with a headset on.
The four of them share looks, seeming to silently communicate for a moment before they turn back to you. “Do you know of anywhere we could lay low for a while?” The skull tattoo asks her.
You shrug, sizing up the largest of them. “Well, I could use some help on my farm. If you’re not opposed to manual labor, I have plenty of space.”
They share another long look, silently debating your offer. You’re not sure why you’re offering space to total strangers, aside from possibly some free help for the upcoming harvest. Also, perhaps, because one of them is your soulmate.
“We’ll take you up on that offer.” Skull tattoo says, turning back to you.
You nod. “Great. I’m out on the outskirts, though. It’s a bit of a hike.”
“We will fly and meet you there.” Tech says. “I can find it.”
“Right.” You nod. Of course he could just read your mind and figure out where it is. “I guess I’ll see you there.”
You head back to your speeder, setting off out of town and out to your property. You glance up as a ship flies overhead, landing at the back of the house as you drive up. You park in your usual spot, watching as they leave the ship. Skull tattoo takes the lead as they approach you.
“I’m Hunter.” He introduces himself, motioning to the others. “This is Wrecker, Echo, Tech, and Omega.” He motions to the youngest, a girl no older than fifteen, who waves at you with a smile.
You introduce yourself, waving back.
“Thank you for doing this.” Hunter says.
You shrug. “I am serious about needing the extra help.”
“Whatever you need, we’ll do it.” He says sincerely.
“We’ll worry about that tomorrow.” You say, glancing at the setting sun. “You can get settled tonight.”
You lead them inside, wishing you had tidied up a bit. Then again, you hadn’t really expected to have company. The house feels small with the five extra bodies in it. Just like it used to.
“My room’s down there.” You point down one of the hallways, before turning to the other. “The three spare rooms are down here.” You lead them down the hallway. “There’s spare clothes in the dressers you’re welcome to, if they fit. There’s blankets in the closet and towels in the fresher. There’s also an outhouse by the barn if you’re feeling brave. I’ll let you get settled and go start on dinner.”
You scurry your way down the hallway, leaving them alone. You can practically hear the rebuking by your grandmother at letting complete strangers into your home so willingly. It’s not like you had anything of value left.
And they’re technically not strangers. At least, not totally.
***
You curl up in the chair, looking out at the light bugs dancing over the crops. A figure steps out on the porch, slowly approaching you. You don’t have to look up to know who it is. Despite only being around him for a short time, you feel like you’ve known him forever.
“Can’t sleep?” You ask, turning to look at him as he sits.
“I have no need to.” He says simply. You blink at him in confusion. “We were designed to need less sleep than the average nat-born.”
“Right.” You say slowly.
“We are clones.” He explains, holding your gaze. “We were created as part of an experimental unit exploring various enhancements. Hunter has enhanced senses, Wrecker increased strength, and I have a high intellect.”
“That...makes a lot of sense.” You say. “I figured you were involved in the war. I heard all about your battle strategies and whatnot.”
“Yes, that could have been very inconvenient if you had been involved with the Separatists.” He adjusts his goggles as he stares at you. “The Kaminoans weren’t sure if the clones would experience soulmates, but the first generation began developing links almost immediately. It complicated things, as soulmate links are strong motivators and many clones deserted in order to find and be with their soulmates. The Kaminoans had to take rather extreme measures and forbid us from attempting to contact or initiate the bond. Those that met their mates had to reject them, as the Jedi do. When I realized we shared a telepathic connection I was worried that may put the Republic in danger, but I assessed you were not a threat.”
“Thanks.” You say flatly, taking in his words.
“I wish we could have come sooner, but with the Empire after us after we deserted, I didn’t want to put you at risk. Now that things have settled down, I brought us to this planet in hopes of locating you. I used your thoughts to discern which planet you were on and if it would be suitable for us to hide, or perhaps even settle down somewhere permanently.” He continues, barely pausing to breathe. “I did pay attention to your thoughts. I didn’t understand many of them early on, but I’ve grown to understand you.”
You blink a bit at his words. He had located you solely on your thoughts, which meant he really had seen and heard them. Even though he hadn’t responded much, and from what it sounds like for a good reason, he had still heard you.
“You think a lot.” You say lamely, scrambling for a reply. You’re not quite sure what to say. For a while you had been upset that he seemed to ignore you, but from what it sounds like, he hadn’t been ignoring you at all.
“Yes, a byproduct of my genetic enhancements.” He says.
“It’s strange, now.” You say, leaning back in your seat, looking out at the town lights in the far distance. “Everything’s so quiet. As annoying as it was sometimes...I never really did feel alone. You...had perfect timing.”
“Well, they do say fate is never wrong.”
You smile. “I guess so. My grandparents built this place from the ground up. They were fugitives, on the run from the Republic.” His eyes widen a bit at that statement. “They came across this place by accident, like most do, and decided to settle down. My parents stayed here too, keeping it running while my grandparents got older and eventually passed. My brothers left as soon as they could. I haven’t seen them since. It was around that time you showed up. Shortly after my dad got sick. My mom didn’t last long after he passed. That left me alone. Well, alone with a clone talking in my head.” You smile softly at him. “I’m glad you’re here now.”
***
You wake early as usual, the others rising around the same time. Must have been a side effect of being a soldier. You make breakfast before heading out to the barn. You start Wrecker and Hunter on moving some things before taking Tech and Echo to the barely functioning equipment.
“This one’s the most important.” You pat the combine affectionately. “I was in town to get a part when I ran into you yesterday. She starts, but as soon as you put her in gear, she dies.”
Tech rubs his chin, staring at it. “I can fix that.”
The guys settle in easily, jumping right into helping you with the farm. Tech and Echo are a blessing in disguise, quickly getting all of the equipment back up and running more efficiently than they had before. Wrecker and Hunter help you with the more physical things, setting everything up for the coming harvest. Omega becomes your shadow, happily learning about the plants, their growth stages, and how to know when they’re ready to harvest.
It feels nice, having the farm full of life again. It feels like it used to, when your family had been all together. In a way, you’ve found a new family. You know your parents would be proud, after they got over the shock of you letting complete strangers in.
After the farming equipment is fixed, Tech moves his sights to the house, fixing and updating everything he can get his hands on. Anything broken or almost broken, he’s quick to jump in with an “I can fix that.”
You both also begin to grow closer, albeit slowly. Just as you had suspected with his raging thoughts, he constantly needed to be doing something. Finding time to be alone with him is hard, even with the others trying to help. Currently his attention is being taken up by a schematic for a new barn. He had already planned out an expansion of the house for the others for more privacy, which was a sweet thought, but you want to have time with him.
Your moment comes when you get up late one night, heading to the kitchen for a drink. Your mind has been running nonstop with the harvest nearly upon you and all of the details you had to make sure were perfect. It’s a bit different this time, now that you have help, but habits are hard to break and you can’t stop trying to make sure every little thing gets addressed.
You head into the kitchen, spotting a glow from the living room. You peek your head around the corner, spotting Tech lounging on the couch in the dark, face illuminated by the glow of a datapad.
“Tech?” You ask quietly, stepping into the living room, flipping on a light. “What are you doing out here?”
He looks up, barely moving the datapad. “Wrecker decided to lock me out of the room tonight.”
“Oh.” You say lamely. “That’s not very nice.”
He shrugs. “Can’t say I’ll miss his snoring.”
You bite your lip, staring at his scrunched figure on the couch. You shift on your feet nervously, butterflies fluttering in your stomach. “You could...come to my room.”
Your heart is pounding a bit as you stare at him. You had yet to be so forward with him, both of you dancing around that first step. He stares back over the top of the datapad, eyes wide. For a moment you regret offering. For a moment you wish you could hear his thoughts again.
"It...might be more comfortable." You hurry to add, not wanting to scare him off. "I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep right now and I could use some company."
He moves slowly, hesitantly. He pushes himself to sit up, rising from the couch. You forget how tall he is, used to seeing him hunched over something. You turn, making your way to your room. He follows behind you, carrying the datapad with him.
You turn to him as your door closes, his eyes scanning your room. He’s drawn to the photos on the wall, ones of you and your family. You come to stand next to him, telling him about each photo. Perhaps you’d have to add some more soon.
“My grandparents.” You point to the last one. “After their first harvest. They were so good at this, running a farm. They made it seem so easy.” You move, sitting on the edge of your bed. “There’s so much to think about, though. Everything has to go right because if one thing goes wrong it can mess up the harvest and ruin your entire year. They were so effortlessly good at it. It was like a second sense. They knew exactly when to harvest and could read the weather just by looking at the plants.” You shake your head, tears brimming. “I’m so scared of failing. It’s so hard to do alone and...I don’t want to be alone anymore.”
He kneels down in front of you, setting the datapad on the bed. His hand cups your chin, lifting your face so you’re looking at him. His thumb wipes the tear that slides down your cheek, his gaze soft as he stares at you. “I can fix that.”
He says it so softly, so sweetly, you want to melt right into the bed. You lean into his touch, feeling the rough fabric of his glove. You desperately want to feel his skin against yours. You stare into his eyes, feeling the magnetic pull between you. You can’t help it, the tension that had been building up over the last few weeks since you’d run into him in town beginning to boil over.
He’s hesitant as your lips touch, holding back a bit. He’s probably never been kissed. You haven’t either, just going off of what feels right. You can practically hear the wheels turning in his head, the thoughts that are probably racing. Once again, you wish you could hear them this close.
“You’re thinking too much.” You whisper, pulling away for a second.
Your fingers grab at his shirt, pulling him in closer as you kiss him once more. He finally moves, his arms slipping around you. You pull him as close as you can, your own arms wrapping around him. You never want to let go. You want to stay in this moment forever. You finally feel whole. For the first time in a long time you don’t feel alone.
Tech’s hands slip under your thighs, lifting you as he stands. It’s so effortless, like you almost don’t weigh anything. He kneels on the bed, dropping you against the pillows. He falls with you, catching himself on his hands above you. You stare up at him, shivering at the intensity in his gaze as he stares down at you.
“Tech,” You whisper, reaching for him as he lowers himself into you.
His body slots between your legs perfectly, like he was made to be there. Well, in a way he was. He fits against you like you’re two puzzle pieces, every ridge of his body matching the slope of yours.
He kisses you harder this time, pulling his gloves off. His bare hands trail up your arms, awakening every nerve ending as they go. Your body feels alive with energy as he touches you, your brain screaming for more. You want to get closer, you want to feel every bit of him that you can.
“I can feel it,” He murmurs, trailing his lips down your throat. “The soulmate link. The bond between us forming. It’s been studied over and over but still the actual science of it is not understood entirely. At first they thought perhaps it was brain chemicals sending the signals, but while those do play a role, it’s not entirely what draws two people together so perfectly.”
Your hands tug at his shirt as he rambles, your own discarded on the floor already. “And I don’t think they ever will.” You say, tugging his shirt off as he sits up. “I don’t think it’s something that can be explained in words.”
He stares down at you, his eyes trailing down your body. Your chest warms a bit under his gaze, your skin prickling with anticipation. “You are sure this is what you want?” He asks, as if it was even a question.
“If you don’t get me naked right now...” You don’t have to finish the empty threat, his hands tugging your pants off in one pull.
You’re already wet, your body more than ready for what it had been anticipating. Most soulmates didn’t make it weeks after finally meeting and initiating their bond. Of course, you and Tech had had minimal contact with each other, but your proximity had been very close. You’re not sure how you’ve made it this long, aside from the mounting stress of the coming harvest keeping the desire at bay.
Tech slides his hands along your sides, sitting up between your thighs. He parts them gently, staring down at your glistening folds. You smile softly, sitting up a little and grabbing his hand. You guide him to your clit, guiding him on how to please you.
You moan quietly as he takes over, picking it up quickly. Thank the maker he’s a quick learner. You let your body drop back onto the bed, sighing out another moan. “Kriff, Tech. Just like that.”
The pleasure builds within you, igniting your body. It feels so good, unlike anything you’ve ever felt before. There’s a coil tightening in your belly, pressure building within you.
You grab his hand before you cum, stopping him. “I want you inside me.” You say, sitting up to tug at his pants.
He stands from the bed, letting them drop. You gape at the size of him, opening your legs wider. He crawls between them, pumping his hand over his length a couple times. “I’ve never done this before.” He says, staring down at you.
“I haven’t either.” You say, swallowing nervously. You’re not sure why you’re nervous. You trust him.
You wrap a hand around him, guiding him in place. He lowers himself to hover over you, letting your hand do the work. You wince a bit as he presses in, putting a hand on his hip to still him. You probably should have prepared a bit more for this, but you’re too desperate to feel him to care.
You squeeze his hip, telling him to move. Your arms wrap around his back, holding on as he slowly works his way inside you. The stretch burns a bit, but his lips on your shoulder help distract from the discomfort.
He groans once he’s seated inside you, his face pressing against your neck. You cling to him, finally feeling whole and content since his arrival. You can’t help but feel like this is where you’re supposed to be, right here in his arms. Despite the discomfort you shift your hips, moving him inside you.
“Tech,” You murmur, your lips brushing his ear.
He hums against your neck, gently kissing the skin.
“Move.” You say, shifting your hips once more.
He presses up onto his elbows, looking down at you as he begins to rock his hips. It’s a bit awkward and sloppy at first, but he picks up a rhythm quickly. Your lips part as you stare up at him, holding his gaze behind his goggles. You get lost in the intensity of them, the focus as he stares at you. You want to know what he’s thinking, you want to know what’s running through that head of his right now.
He leans down to kiss you as his fingers find your clit, swallowing your moans as you cum. His thrusts turn sloppy, pressing into you once more before he releases inside of you. You both stay still, lips brushing in soft kisses as you take each other in.
Tech pulls away from you, stepping into your fresher to grab a cloth to clean you both up with before he slides under the covers with you. You rest against his chest, wrapping an arm around him as he holds you.
“Tech?” You ask, breaking the comfortable silence. He hums, fingers tracing patterns on your back. “You could have easily unlocked the door.”
He chuckles, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “Yes, I could have. Perhaps I was hoping for an invitation.”
“You’ve never needed one.” You lean up, pressing a kiss to his lips. “You know that. You’ve always been welcome here.”
Taglist:
@stressed-cherry
648 notes
·
View notes
Text
NSFW ALPHABET: JOHN MARSTON
MINORS DNI // 18+ ONLY
🍂
A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)
• a little quiet, using the moment to catch his breath and adjust himself.
• he’d probably clean you with the closest thing to him (his bandanna, whatever clothes surround you).
• will pull you under his arm and caress your waist while enjoying the silence.
B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)
• John probably has low self esteem because of his scars so he doesn’t really think of himself as attractive.
• ( likes his hands and fingers when teasing you during foreplay: “ Hmm, this pussy gets so tight roun’ my fingers.” ).
• Your breasts!! no matter the size, shape, or color, he will definitely grab them any chance he gets.
• Loves to lay his head between them when you two are alone!!
C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)
• will definitely come close to cumming inside you sometimes.
• cums on your chest because he loves seeing his spend drip down your nipples, off your breasts, on your thighs.
• (^^ especially if you’re holding your breast and his cum gets on your fingers!!).
D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
• wants to cum inside because he wants to feel your pussy milk his cock while being fully wrapped in your warmth.
• LOVES when you beg and whine a little during sex. (when you say to him, “mmm, you’re so big inside me!!” , “oh John, please fuck me faster!).
E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)
• Yes, but I don’t think he’s very confident in his abilities.
• Learned through working girls in whatever town was closest to camp in his wild and adventurous youth. (obviously excluding Abigail from this)
F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)
• The Pretzel Drip!!
• Fucking your leaking heat as you look in his eyes while he plays with your breasts, pinching your nipples.
• Spreads your legs wild open so he can lean over your body and nip on your nipples while fucking you.
G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)
• Probably starts with some snarky remarks that get outta hand between you two and he gets flustered then takes you somewhere more private.
H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)
• probably average based on his hair length and stubble.
I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)
• cautious and definitely waits for you to give him signals to keep going or stop, (especially when you guys first start sleeping together).
• focuses on you more during foreplay because he loves teasing you and gets a little pussy-drunk when inside you.
J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)
• Simple answer, no. John would probably wait until you two are alone.
• BUT… if you’re gone on a job or hunt and he’s been drinking that night??
• He’ll fantasize about you, thinking about your little noises and slick heat. Quickly snaps out of it and rushes to his tent. Palms himself before impatiently pulling out his cock.
K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)
• Cockwarming: LOVES having you completely wrapped himself and feeling your wet pussy clenched down
• Teasing: not necessarily him making fun of you but more so YOUR reactions to him and what he says.
• Titjob: when he’s sitting down and you’re kneeling in front of him, jerking your breasts up and down his cock while lickin his tip, it will take everything in him not to bust.
• Exhibitionism: in the form of quickies in the sense that, if John sees a chance with you in an alleyway, secluded train car, or in the open woods.
L = Location (favorite places to do the do)
• In a real bed preferably at a hotel or cabin, so you guys can also be away from the gang for total privacy.
• (but if the opportunity presents itself, he’ll snatch it so damn fast).
M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)
• Honestly, attention from you turns him on, ( gets in his own head and likes when you ground him).
• if you wear a shirt/dress with a low-cut or a few top buttons undone, he can’t help but stare before noticing he’s hard.
• When you’re a little mad because then when you two fuck, you’ll be on top and he’ll be playing with your breasts, (win-win in his eyes).
N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)
• Causing any pain to the point where it actually harms you (would feel very guilty and somewhat reclusive about sex until you reassure him).
• Anything that would de-masculine him, (because he’s a bit self conscious) so pegging or being tied up.
O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)
• personally receiving because he loves it when your tongue twists around his shaft (thinks your mouth feels so nice and warm, and whines a little when he hits the back of your throat).
• If he’s giving then his tongue will go down to your opening and tease it then clamps his mouth around your clit, harshly sucking on it before devouring you.
P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)
• Usually faster because he gets off to your noises and breasts bouncing up and down. He works you open with fingers while teasing your clit, making sure you’re dripping before shoving his cock inside you and setting a quick rhythm.
Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)
• happens when there’s a safe opportunity.
• he LOVES them because he can be in any mood and feel instantly better if he gets to feel you dripping down him.
R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)
• With both your lifestyles, you two constantly are risking your necks, so I don’t think so.
S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)
• He can last about 3-4 rounds before needing a break.
• Usually holds himself off and waits for you to finish at least once or twice before he cums.
T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)
• it’s 1899, so no.
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)
• When fingering you, he LOVES to tease since he lives for the noises you make, the feeling of your hot, slick pussy between his fingers, your hands gripping his arm and blankets.
V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)
• He really does try to be quiet when you guys are in camp.
• But alone: the sound of grunts, raspy pants and his teasing can be heard among you.
W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)
• Whenever you whine, sometimes John teases your moans with a “yeah?” In a deep raspy voice.
X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)
• 7 ½ inches, average thickness with prominent veins
Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)
• Pretty average and would get higher after you guys are together.
Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
• Either stays awake longer than you do, thinking about you, whatever’s happening to the gang, or himself
• Or instantly curls beside you so he can feel your warmth and softness against him.
#rdr2#red dead redemption 2#rdr2 john#john marston#john marston x reader#john marston smut#red dead redemption community
111 notes
·
View notes
Text
Malleus Draconia NSFW Alphabet
(this pic of Mal is so slutty i hate disney)
warnings: smut/nsfw, yandere/slight stalking, mentions of breeding kink, malleus is kinda fuckin crazy so, reader is afab but no gender or pronouns are explicitly specified
A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)
The ultimate KING of aftercare. This man will be so sweet and gentle with you to the point you think it’s a facade. Malleus’ unpredictability is something that is truly frightening - he’ll go from being so rough and aggressive, constantly just thrusting into you, making you scream at the top of your lungs from all the overwhelming pain and pleasure and then 10 minutes later he’s like :) “let’s have a bath together” The way his demeanour switches was something you weren’t used to at first, but going through all that and then getting peppered with the softest kisses all over your body definitely feels rewarding.
B = Body part (their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)
Malleus’ favourite body part on him is probably his eyes. He loves how he can provoke so many reactions from you just by looking at you - having almost a hypnotic effect with the way he stares at you so intensely. The man just likes to intimidate the fuck outta you sometimes and the best way he knows how is simply just to look at you and then you’ll just suddenly find yourself on your knees in front of him.
His favourite body part on you is probably your hands. He absolutely loves to hold and stroke them all the time and never gets tired seeing how small they are compared to his.
C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)
Not messy and doesn’t like to be. He will most likely cum in you every time unless you tell him not to. But because Malleus is secretly fucking crazy he wouldn’t mind seeing you absolutely covered in cum from time to time - this not only fuels his ego but his possessiveness of you as well, he literally just wants to drill into your mind that you belong to him and no one else.
D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
This mf secretly really likes to watch you sleep, and not you two being in the same bed and he’ll just look over at you - no. He purposely likes to secretly break into Ramshackle dorm and just stand and watch you in your most susceptible state. Malleus is not the type to do anything to you in your sleep, he respects and cares about you too much and knows that consent is KEY and will never do anything without letting you know first. Nevertheless, that doesn’t stop him thinking about what he wants to do to you. Malleus won’t tell you but deep down he has some pretty intense fantasies about you and thinking about these, towering above you whilst watching you sleep quietly is something that secretly gets him really riled up. You’ll never know of course.
E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)
This man is not particularly experienced however, he is an extremely fast learner it’s actually kinda scary. You tell him to do something that you like and he will not only do it well but he’ll do it even better than you imagined. You will be in shock just from how amazing he is at literally everything. He might get some tips from Lilia as well because at the end of the day, Malleus can be extremely oblivious and might be completely confused at what you’re asking him to do, that doesn’t matter though, he’s still gonna fuck you up regardless.
F = Favourite position (this goes without saying)
Mating press…wow who would’ve thought this. This man's sole purpose in life is just to breed you mercilessly, well not really, but he makes it seem that way. Malleus will have your legs hoisted up to your chest so fast you wouldn’t even be able to tell what’s going on, only to then suddenly feel him thrust into you so deep you’d think that he actually fucking impaled you or some shit 🙁🙁 Sometimes this man is so damn nasty when it comes to this position, when he feels like it, he will literally just use you as his personal plaything to dump his cum into over and over again.
G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)
He's definitely not goofy in bed but rather, he gets amused seeing you get all worked up and writhing under him. He finds anything you do to be endearing and will occasionally make lil funny remarks here and there to lighten the mood if necessary.
But again, because this is Malleus we’re talking about, he’s unknowingly a god damn psychopath and will unleash a side of him that’s so sadistic and perverted that you start to think that he might just straight up murder you then and there. This side still shakes you to your core no matter how many times he reveals it to you, as said before - Malleus is unpredictable. You’ll never know whether he’ll treat you with the most delicate and tender kisses or if he’ll just wrap his giant hand around your throat and squeeze it until you almost lose consciousness, leaving bruises and marks plastered all over your body.
H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)
Much like the hair on the top of his head, he is very well groomed everywhere. He shaves often and likes to keep it neatly trimmed so it doesn’t get in the way.
I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)
Textbook definition of intimate. He can be a hopeless romantic at heart sometimes, pulling out all the stops just to make you blush - making sure to go the extra mile so the moments you spend with him feel memorable and special. He makes a pretty big deal when it comes to sex and always wants to make sure that you’re comfortable with everything he’s doing because, when it comes to doing the actual deed, he can be quite intense, and sometimes just downright scary in the moment - especially for you, so he’ll be extremely patient and slowly ease you into things so he doesn’t frighten you (too much)
J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)
Rarely does it. Not because he has a low sex-drive its just cuz..it doesn’t do much for him? He actually finds it to be kind of boring and would much rather wait until he can sex with you than to jerk off.
K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)
This man has many kinks but one that rears its ugly head more often than not is his corruption kink. He just can’t get over the fact that he made someone so pure and untainted become so immodest and lustful, shamelessly watching the innocence just slowly fade out of your eyes each time you beg for him to fuck you. The way you start to whine and whimper at his feet, only wishing to have him fill you up and use you whilst he glaringly looks down on you seeing the mess you’ve turned into.
for more kinks look at this post!!
L = Location (favourite places to do the do)
Malleus considers intimacy to be a private thing so most of the time he’ll fuck you in either his dorm room or, if he’s feeling particularly impatient, he’ll sneak out to Ramshackle dorm whilst you’re doing your studies and have you then and there. However, ever so rarely, Malleus gets the urge to fuck you in a more open area, whether that be a nearby forest/park or even inside a closet, where the space is so small and cramped, so that all you see and feel is him. He occasionally indulges in the element of risk with the possibility of someone seeing you get literally obliterated by him. But he also thinks that your facial expressions and the way you scream his name should only be seen and heard by him and no one else.
M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)
This man is all over the place. It could be the smallest of touches that you give him that end up turning him on - lightly brushing your hand over his or if you give him a little bit more eye contact than he anticipated. It’s the little things you do that get his mind racing as he’s so fascinated with how humans express themselves with emotion and intimacy that he might just take the most innocent things the wrong way.
With that being said, Malleus absolutely loves it when you’re bold with him. Put him in his damn place for once and order him around to do whatever you want him to. He’s one of the most powerful mages in the entire world and a literal prince but that definitely doesn’t mean you can’t grab him and make a move on him. He finds your fearlessness very amusing and loves to see you think that you have the upper hand, when in reality in a few minutes he’s gonna have you crying and mewling begging him to stop just from his fingers alone.
N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)
Definitely does not like to degrade you. Malleus may be peculiar with his ways of displaying affection but he would never even dream of talking down to you, or if he ended up doing it, it would never be extreme. When it comes down to it, he just wants you to be pleased and satisfied and will constantly reassure you that no matter how intense he is with you, he’s doing it all out of love and adoration for you. Despite having a very undercover sadistic streak, this does not mean he would go as far as to call you awful things - he’s very big on worshipping and therefore wants you to feel treasured by him.
O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)
Malleus is pretty neutral when it comes to oral but leans towards giving it just a lil bit more. As previously mentioned, he loves seeing your facial expressions and how you react so if that means he has to be in between your legs for hours in order for him to hear your moans then my god, he is going to be there for a while.
And on the topic of facial expressions….jesus christ does this man love to watch you struggle to suck him off. We have all for some reason collectively agreed that this man has two dicks and just seeing you choke and struggle to handle ONE let alone two is definitely a sight he loves.
P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)
Malleus is very fickle when it comes to pace. On some days he'll be very slow and loving, being very close to you with his fingers intertwined with yours, making you feel nothing but pure bliss, hearing him say the most caring and heart-warming things to you. And on the occasions that he is slow, it is in no way sloppy - he will make you feel all of him and by the end of it, you’ll literally feel like you ascended to heaven just with how kind he was to you.
But, that is on some days. Other times, he will be so brutal and fast with you to the point that you’re not even able to think a coherent thought - your mind being literally blank, seeing nothing but white as he pounds you ruthlessly.
Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)
Not into quickies and will never be, unless you really beg him to but that won’t make him satisfied. It takes a while for him to get really turned on so quickies never do anything for him except make him feel even more frustrated and stressed. He likes taking his damn time with you so if he was to have a quickie it’s definitely more for you to feel good than for him.
R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)
Malleus is always up to experiment with you and is constantly finding new things to do so that you never get bored or worn-out with what he does. He’s open to almost anything you ask him to. However, you find yourself being the one to make the first move to initiate things rather than him because deep down he’s worried that he might scare you off with his requests.
When it comes to being risky, he’s a bit more reserved. Malleus is just so possessive of you and if being risky means that people could end up walking in on you and seeing you in your completely fucked-out state, he would rather be more cautious make sure you’re in a secluded area where no ones around.
S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)
To say this man could go on for hours is not an understatement, he literally could. It always either ends with you having to beg him to stop because you physically can’t take it anymore, or him seeing the way you shake and pant just from how many rounds he can do and then finally deciding to give you a break.
T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)
We’ve all seen how he is with technology or anything he considers “new”. Yes, he would be up for using toys on both you and himself but bless his heart, it does take him a bit of time to figure out how the hell to use them. For example, he would be using a vibrator on you, wanting to turn up the settings, only for him to press the wrong button and switch the damn thing off - getting all flustered and quickly trying to get it to work again but then just ends up breaking it because he pressed every button at once. It’s times like these that make you see a more innocent and naive side to Malleus which always makes you smile. In most cases when he uses toys he just resorts to using himself to pleasure you because it is literally the only way he knows how.
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)
Malleus is both the biggest tease EVER but at the same time will do anything you ask. It all really depends on his mood and whether he wants to see you begging for any sort of release or crying from all the overstimulation. In the end, he always ends up caving in and giving what you want - he just wants to spoil you and even if he’s feeling pretty unfair that day that doesn’t mean he isn’t gonna make you climax, if anything he’s gonna make you cum multiple times.
V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)
Definitely more on the quiet side when it comes to moaning and will let out an occasional grunt here and there. But this is because this man is all about dirty talk, my god. Truly the definition of “hey lil mama lemme whisper in your ear” because does he ever shut up? No, no he doesn’t. He will be so shameless when it comes to dirty talk, whispering the sweetest but most god-awful sinful things in your ear which always result with your eyes widening and thinking “did he actually just say that”. Malleus is downright deplorable when he does this and will forever love feeling the heat from your face just from his words alone.
W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)
Despite how great he is at hiding his true intentions, all he secretly wants to do is lock you up and have you all to himself. Malleus has an underlying toxic side that he always keeps under wraps but slowly starts to reveal itself the more you get intimate with him. He will literally ‘claim’ you as his which therefore means he won’t allow you to talk to anyone but him, he’ll convince you that he’s the only person you can rely on and that no one else can love you like he does. Malleus is pretty fucking terrifying when you think about it and this is shown when he ends up getting you in such a state that you truly start to believe all the lies and delusions he’s pushing onto you. If he got his way he would literally just keep you caged in his room, stroking your hair and insisting that what he's doing is good for you and all out of love.
X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)
Did someone order sausage because oh my god THERE’S TWO OF THEM. One of his dicks alone is scary enough but then add in another one? It’s almost like he purposely wants to scare you off. You better be prepared because what Malleus is packing is definitely not easy for you to handle, or anyone for that matter. They're a lot darker compared to the rest of his body and both have veins running up the side of them, each having different spots where it feels more sensitive. Let’s just say, Malleus truly does live up to being the most intimidating person in the entire college because seeing that sight for the first time was enough to make you gulp. Being dicked-down by him is nothing but overwhelming and will make you think that no one else can make you feel as full as he does.
Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)
Before getting to know you it was literally non-existent. He didn’t realise just how much he enjoys sex until he met the right person and then after that, he just finds himself wanting it a lot more than he would’ve expected. You wouldn’t think that his sex drive is high with how god damn patient he is - he would literally wait hours, if not, DAYS, just to tease you and then when it comes to the actual moment, all hell would break loose.
Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
Does this man even sleep? Or even feel tired? As said before, Malleus is patient and will always wait for you to fall asleep first before he does anything of the sort. He’ll cradle you in his arms, humming and stroking your body lightly to make you slowly come down from the biggest high ever. He’s very attentive with aftercare so it might be hours before he takes a lil nap, but just know that he’ll already be awake and ready to take care of you the moment you wake up again.
good lord i finally finished it!!! all imma say is listening to the weeknd definitely helps with writing about him but i had fun with this n also tysm for all love this acc has gotten lol i literally just made this for fun a week ago just to post random shit but im so glad ppl actually like it!!! this is my first time writing stuff like this so its hella weird seeing so many ppl reading it 😭😭😭 but i appreciate it sm, pls let me know what else i can possibly write abt!!! :)
#malleus draconia#malleus draconia smut#malleus headcanons#twst malleus#malleus smut#malleus x mc#malleus x reader#malleus x y/n#malleus draconia x reader#malleus draconia headcanons#twst smut#twst x reader#twst x mc#twisted wonderland smut#malleus twisted wonderland#malleus hcs#yandere malleus#malleus smut headcanons#twisted wonderland malleus draconia
3K notes
·
View notes
Text
What they’re like as parents
TW: Everything related to pregnancy and parenthood. Reader can get pregnant but no pronouns used.
☠️ SEBASTIAN SALLOW: ☠️
Sebastian disappears for days when you tell him you’re pregnant. He’s never thought about having children, never really thought anyone would want to have them with someone like him. He worries about being a bad father, that his impulsiveness and curiosity will get either you or his child hurt, and he can’t bare the thought of it. So he goes to the one person he knows will give it to him straight; Anne.
You’ll find him sitting next to her grave, his eyes raw from lack of sleep. He doesn’t even notice you sit next to him until you lean your head against his shoulder, and it’s then that he breaks down. He confides all of his fears to you, and you do your best to reassure him that he will be a wonderful father and that Anne would have been over the moon for him. You two eventually return to your home hand-in-hand, Sebastian’s chest a little lighter and his heart full of tentative excitement.
Sebastian is the stereotypical father. He’s the “fun” parent, the one who lets his child away with anything so long as he finds the humour in it, but he’s also extremely protective of both of you. He’ll do literally anything to keep you both safe and happy, and that can sometimes come off as controlling. Don’t worry, though, the minute you tell him off, he’ll take a step back and trust that you know what you’re doing.
Before your child even starts Hogwarts, they will be well-versed in all manner of defensive spells. If you happen to have a girl, Sebastian will be a strong advocate in naming her after her beloved aunt.
🐍 OMINIS GAUNT: 🐍
Ominis is conflicted when you tell him the news. You hadn’t been trying, but it’s not like you weren’t, either. He’s happy because he loves you, he loves the life you two have created far away from the influence of his family, but he’s also scared. He’s sure his family will learn of the new baby Gaunt and come looking for him. He’s heard rumours of their desperation, years of inbreeding causing most of them to become infertile, and their fear of “polluting” their name with muggle blood meant that the Gaunt line was finally dying out.
He approaches you one evening and declares that the child should have your surname. For that matter, he will also be taking yours, or you can both create an entirely new one and start your own little family without the shadow of cruelty and extremism hanging over your heads. He’ll tell his child about the Gaunts one day, but until then he wants nothing more than to protect them from an ideology that causes nothing but pain for everyone involved.
Ominis turns out to be the most doting father. He is so, so gentle with his child, but he’s not afraid to be stern with them when need be. He makes sure to instill acceptance into them from an early age, and you’ll find yourself close to tears when you find your child frequently standing up to bullies on behalf of others.
It feels like something shifts in Ominis after becoming a father. Suddenly, the empty crevice in his heart from everything he’s been through is full of joyous laughter and love. This is where he’s always meant to be, he thinks. With you and the family you have gifted to him.
🧪 GARRETH WEASLEY: 🧪
Garreth is over the moon, immediately rushing off to tell everyone and their dog in his excitement. You have to finally sit him down and tell him to stop sending owls when you receive a congratulations note from someone you’d only spoken to for five minutes outside the Three Broomsticks almost a decade ago.
You won’t need to lift a finger during your pregnancy, that’s for sure. Garreth will turn the world over if it means easing any of your discomfort, so prepare for breakfasts in bed, countless foot massages, and questionable potions (don’t worry, he tests them multiple times to make sure they won’t turn the baby into a dugbug). You start to feel guilty when every chore in the house is done before you even wake up, but he’ll insist that it’s the least he can do.
There is never a dull moment with Garreth and your child. Not only will you have dozens of little Weasley cousins flittering in and out of the house, but the two of them will team up to play innocent pranks on you all the time. Can’t find your broom? It’s been transfigured into a spoon and hidden amongst the cutlery, good luck! It’s not all fun and games, though. Garreth is a loving and doting father, and although you can sometimes feel like the “killjoy parent”, he’ll always have your back when it comes to parenting decisions and saying “no” to your child, even if it kills him to see their sad little expression.
Garreth will be happy with as many children as you’re willing to give him, but he would prefer a large family. All of that chaos can seem a bit overwhelming at times, but the Weasleys are more than happy to look after your child/ren whenever you need a break or want to spend some alone time together.
⭐ AMIT THAKKAR: ⭐
He is thrilled at the news, but also full of anxiety. He feels a deep responsibility to provide for both of you and that overwhelms him quite a bit in the beginning, but he’ll settle down after a few reassuring discussions with you and multiple assessments of your budget.
Amit will spend countless hours reading books on how to be a great father and how best to care for you during pregnancy. There isn’t a single book on the topic that he won’t read, and by the end of it, he considers himself a bit of an expert (”that’s all just theory, Amit!”). He is the type of person who will read to your stomach every night without fail. It could be the history of wizarding chess, or it could be The Tale of Beadle and the Bard, but these nightly stories quickly become the highlight of your evening as his soothing voice eases you into sleep.
He is the most supportive father on the planet. Although he would love it if your child shared his passion for magical history and stargazing, Amit will immerse himself in whatever they choose to do. Quidditch? He’s the dad cheering from the back during a practice session. Music? Your house is now full of various instruments, both muggle and magical. He’s convinced that his child will be the best at whatever they set their mind to, and he encourages them to never doubt their own mind or abilities.
Amit dedicates every single one of his books to you and your child/ren, both because he loves you, and because you’ve given him the motivation to work even harder at what he does. He wants all of your names to live on forever, and so he’s determined to publish books that will be read by many for years to come.
#hogwarts legacy#hogwarts legacy imagines#hogwarts legacy headcanon#harry potter#harry potter fanfiction#sebastian sallow#sebastian sallow x reader#ominis gaunt#ominis gaunt x reader#garreth weasley#garreth weasley x reader#amit thakkar#amit thakkar x reader#tw pregnancy
608 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
burningfestivalpersona
Untitled
polarisbear
honey and chrysanthemum
josc-ttt
JOSC
zombiefairies
life in dayglow black
missingnathan
Missing Nathan...