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sicaron · 23 days

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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.

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sicaron · 25 days

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— size kink headcanons [haikyuu!!]

ɪɴᴄʟᴜᴅᴇs: ɪᴡᴀɪᴢᴜᴍɪ, ᴏɪᴋᴀᴡᴀ, ʜᴀɴᴀᴍᴀᴋɪ, ᴍᴀᴛsᴜᴋᴀᴡᴀ, + ᴋʏᴏᴛᴀɴɪ.

so these r just basically writing some of my fav guys with big dicks it’s self indulgent but i figure someone out there will have a nice time with this too. i will be doing multiple characters from different teams over the course of time.

⇦ blog navigation.

part 2 ⇨

-ˏ͛ aoba johsaiˏ͛-

— hajime iwaizumi.

∴ his dick is thick. ∴ he loves how easy it is to sink his cock into you and watch you become a drooling mess over it ∴ he literally cannot miss your sweet spot with how fat his cock is ∴ barely has to even do anything for you to lose yourself all over him and that ∴ makes him weak.

★ ── ⭒ ─ ⭑ ─ ⭒ ── ★

he let out a slow breath, running his hands up and down your thighs as they trembled beneath his touch. his eyes were locked onto your glistening cunt, stuffed half full and clenching sporadically around him.

your eyes were teary as you gazed up at him, whimpering and sniffling under the onslaught of pleasure he hadn’t even intended to give you.

“i can’t believe you came already, kitten,” he breathed, licking his lips as you squeezed him again, “i’m not even halfway in and you’ve already soaked me with your cum. aren’t you filthy?”

“iwa…” you whined, eyes fluttering as his hips rolled forward, sinking even deeper into your warmth.

he grinned, crooked and cocky, “i don’t care how many times you cum. you’re gonna take my whole cock by the end of the night.”

Keep reading

#haikyuu x reader #hq nsfw recs #hq smut

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sicaron · 25 days

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what is the flow rate of gojo’s sperm? 🤔

😈 😈 😈 ALRIGHT LET’S FIND OUT

shoutout to m00tie @quinnyundertow since u said there's nothing that turns you on more than hearing how mobile a man's flagella are. this one's for you bb.

alright, first off, because his cum is confirmed to be both incompressible fluid as well as move with laminar flow, these attributes satisfy the conditions of pouiseulle’s law:

i had to do a little bit of research to determine if it was laminar or turbulent flow, and apparently sperm travels with both stokes & laminar flow, which is pretty interesting, and also moves in a sinusoidal propagating wave, likely due to the movements/shape of the flagella

note: microscopic sperm travel & ejaculate fluid travel are two very different things, but i can’t solve for anything microscopic here so we’re just gonna go for the ejaculate fluid only

anyways, to use pouiseulle’s law, let’s first determine our variables, and make sure we get the units right as well! always draw a diagram w all the variables:

now, let’s identify the variables:

1. radius (r) of tube -> this refers to the pipe/tube, therefore in this case, the vaginal canal. now since gojo has decided to creampie, we can assume that the radius of the vaginal canal will be equivalent to the radius of his girth as he is stretching you out. gege told me the diameter of his big fat schlong is approximately 3 inch girth, therefore the radius = 3/2 = 1.5 inches

2. ΔP refers to change in pressure gradient, in this case i’ve decided to have P1 as pressure at vaginal canal opening, and P2 as pressure at the end where the cervix is. therefore, ΔP = (P1 - P2) for the equation. i know you’ve got that gorilla grip coochie, esp when the world’s strongest sorcerer is fuckin you SENSELESS, but all things considered this is a very difficult parameter to measure, therefore i found this article to help out with this:

we’re going to assume “contraction pressure” (at the vaginal canal opening) is P1, due to gojo’s intrusion. and we’re going to assume “pressure at rest” is P2 at the end near the cervix (he’s pulled out a lil bit ok this makes things easier for me)

kPa are the units that we want for ΔP in this case, therefore it’s a simple calculation:

ΔP = P1 - P2 = 41.8 kPa - 26.8 kPa = 15 kPa

3. the last variable we need to account for here is L, which is the length of the PIPE HE’S LAYIN INSIDE OF YOU (jk it’s just length of ur coochie). now, i imagine this man is a generous lover, and he’s alr made you cum a few before he stuck it inside, so with arousal, the vaginal canal length has likely increased to about 5 inches (moreso 4.75in based on avg values in research but he stretched you in even more during the sexing!!) therefore L = 5 in

4. the other two values are just constants:

π = pi 3.1415 (imma just use pi function in calc)

η = this is viscosity of a fluid. based on this research article, the viscosity of human semen is approximately 9.35 cps. we want these units in kPa•s (remember that your units need to match the units of the other variables), so we need to use density of sperm (1.043 g/ml) to convert the factor (i just used chatgpt lol) but the conversion factor is pretty similar therefore we will just plug in something close to 9.35 kPa•s (true value is a little smaller)

ALRIGHT WONDERFUL! WE HAVE DETERMINED ALL OF OUR VARIABLES :) NOW WE JUST NEED TO PLUG IT INTO OUR EQUATION/DIAGRAM:

*note: mind the units! (shown in blue) there are lots of variations on how flow rate can be shown w the units, so u wanna be careful that they match

YAAAAY!! so the flow rate (Q) of gojo’s cum is approximately 0.63787 in^3/sec ☺️💕

use a quick converter online, and we can make it into liters per minute -> 0.02214 l/min. convert this to milliliters -> 22.14 mls

which means that, in one of gojo’s average cumshots, he cums 22.14 mls of ejaculate !!! :0 sheesh that’s a lot!!

but how does this value compare to other men? research varies, but on average, men ejaculate between 1-10mls per orgasm, therefore the world’s strongest sorcerer cums more than TWICE the worldwide average!!

and one final calculation shows us that when he finishes, it’s at about 0.369 mls per second :) that's fuckin fast!!!

thank you for cumming to my ted talk!! byee

alr ellie out ✌🏼😖 (i have sm brainrot)

—

disclaimer: i am neither mathematician nor engineer nor physicist 🧚‍♀️✨ i hold a b.s. in biology n took very simple college level physics <3 therefore i cannot speak for the true validity of these calculations or results. tis for funsies.

#this is so fucking funny #absolutely unhinged #gojo smut

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sicaron · 27 days

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kinktober 2023 -> day 14

age difference - ukai keishin x reader

word count: 2,406

kinktober masterlist

The bell above the door dinged as you entered Sakanoshita Mart, your ears immediately being filled with the soft retail music that has always played in the store. Your nose twitched with the smell of cigarette smoke, an old familiarity to the scent that you had come to associate with a certain man. Said man was sitting behind the counter, feet pulled up and crossed on the desk before him, ruffling through what looked like a sports magazine, and the same old cigarette dangling lazily from his lips.

He briefly glanced up as the door chimed, before looking down at the magazine again. Seconds later his head shot up again, eyes wide this time, staring at you with his mouth dropping open, using a hand to pluck away the stick between his lips before it fell to the ground.

“Hi.” You smiled, still standing just inside the door, suddenly feeling shy after seeing his reaction. You had told yourself over and over that you would be confident when you met him again, that you would finally answer his sarcastic quips instead of just giggling silently at them like you used to. You weren’t the same as you were back in high school. And you needed to show him that.

Your little crush on Ukai Keishin was an age old story, starting from your third year in high school. You had been managing Kurasuno’s volleyball club when Takeda sensei brought Coach Ukai in, announcing that he would be taking the role his grandfather once held. You had sucked in a breath as you gazed at the man, taking in his casual orange hoodie and sweatpants, hair pulled back with a headband and the laziest little eye roll you had ever seen.

You were enamored.

That had been the start of your little schoolgirl crush, spending most of your time during practice staring at the man while he barked orders at the team. You had barely interacted that year, apart from volleyball related matters you needed answers to. You were unbelievably shy, and equally quiet. It had never bothered you, considering that you were surrounded by people who were larger than life and more than happy to take over the room. The year had been spent daydreaming about the Coach and taking in every little detail about him that you could.

That was three years ago.

Miyagi had not changed upon your return from college. It was no Tokyo, of course, where you had spent the last three years, the city that changed you as a person, but there was still that quiet charm to Miyagi that Tokyo just couldn’t emulate, a deep understanding of nature that you had missed during college.

That, and Tokyo could never quite replicate the man who had periodically haunted your dreams since you graduated high school.

You thought of him every now and then, maybe once a week you would wonder what he was up to. You knew from old friends like Daichi that he was still coaching for Karasuno, and the thought made you happy. He had found purpose with your team and he had carried on that legacy.

You wondered if the new managers thought of him like you did in your day. You wouldn’t be surprised.

You watched him now as he pulled his legs off the counter and sat up straight, watched as he traced his eyes down your figure. It made your breath hitch, and you tried not to smirk.

You hadn’t just gained confidence in the last three years. Tokyo had been really good for your body too. And you knew what this sundress made you look like. There was a reason you had put it on today.

“Hi.” Ukai finally breathed in reply, after what seemed like an eternity. You smiled and stepped closer to the counter, hands meeting the surface softly when you reached him. You watched him squash the cigarette into an ashtray and throw the magazine next to it carelessly, giving you his full attention.

“Didn’t know you were back in Miyagi.” He began, smiling up at you as he leaned against his arms on the counter.

You shrugged. “There’s no place like home.”

You immediately cringed at your reply. Ugh, so corny. This is not how you wanted things to go today. You were supposed to act sexy and alluring. To pull him in.

He chuckled a bit, resting his chin on the palm of his hand. His eyes never left you, only occasionally dipping down to look at your chest. You could tell he was trying to be subtle, but Ukai Keishin didn’t have one subtle bone in his body. The thought made you laugh internally.

“How’re you doing?” He asked.

“Good! I’m good. You?”

“Good.”

“Oh, good.”

You visibly did flinch this time, and Keishin snickered before standing up. You blinked in surprise when he leaned over the counter, closer to you.

“Why are you here, Y/N?”

He had never called you by your first name before. You stared at him and how close he was. Merely ten inches or so away. And you couldn’t find your voice to answer his question.

“We’ve never been close.” He continued. “In fact, we barely spoke. You being here now, wearing,” a pause as his eyes skimmed over your figure, “that. There’s a reason for it. Tell me.”

Your heart was beating a mile a minute, nearly shivering when his eyes lingered on your deep neckline. Your face felt hot.

“I think,” you breathed. “I think it’s pretty obvious. Don’t you?”

He hummed before leaning back again, popping the little tension filled bubble you had created. You let out a breath, watching as he rounded the counter. You stayed rock still, ears perking up when you heard a little click, realizing it was the door being locked. Your nerves buzzed with excitement. Was this really happening?

You nearly jumped when his hand skimmed your side, fingers splaying out over the material of your dress. His breath brushed the shell of your ear, and your eyelids fluttered.

“I won’t do anything unless you say so.”

His voice was so low, so gruff, you bit your lip to keep from moaning. You could feel yourself getting wet at the proximity, wanting nothing more than to be closer to him. So you pushed back, your ass brushing his crotch. You sighed when you felt how hard he was, and the thought of it turned you on even more.

Keishin hissed at the contact, hands grabbing your hips tight to hold you in place.

“Don’t make me repeat myself.”

Oh fuck. You flushed. You had missed that, truly. You had missed him being authoritative and imposing, ordering around a whole team to do as he wished.

“Ukai-san. Please.” You felt your face burn. “Want you.”

“Want me where?”

You whined, making him chuckle before he finally let your bodies come in contact. His front pressed to your back firmly, until you felt every shift of his muscles. His hands that were previously on your hips began to wander, stopping just below your breasts. His hot breath skimmed over the skin of your neck until goosebumps arose, and you pushed back against him again, this time harder.

“You naughty girl.” He breathed, teeth grazing over your skin before he bit down slightly. You leaned your head the other way to give him more access. “You came here just for this, didn’t you? You wanted to sleep with your old volleyball coach?”

At this point you were desperately grinding back on him, his lips mapping your neck like he was starved for you.

“I don’t see you hesitating.” You replied, loving the push and pull of your bodies, loving how his hips chased after you when you pulled away from him even slightly.

“You think I can resist this?” His hand traveled under the hem of your skirt, brushing your bare thigh. He traced the skin up, up, up until his fingers skimmed the edge of your panties. He dipped a fingertip into the fabric, feeling how soft you were, how warm you were. And wet. You were so wet for him.

“Fuck.” He groaned, pushing your panties aside just enough to slide a finger through your slit. The pad grazed your clit and you moaned loud, eyes closing in relief.

“You think I didn’t notice how much you stared?” He continued. “I knew. Way back then, I knew. See, I thought it was just a little crush. But here you are, three years later, all grown up and spreading your legs for me. Dirty girl. You’ve been wanting me all this time?”

You cried out when he chose that moment to sink a finger inside you, up to the knuckle, curling it immediately to rub your walls. You squirmed in his hold, but he was strong, strong enough to hold you in place and maintain the pace he had set inside you at the same time.

“You’re so tight, baby.” He grunted out, another finger joining the first one. “You done this before?”

“I’m not a virgin!” You bit out, trying to keep your legs from shaking.

Keishin laughed at that. “Sorry, sweets. Did I offend you?”

You wanted to say yes. Wanted to tell him you weren’t some goody-two shoes that he probably always thought you were. You wanted him to know that you wanted this. That you craved it. That the thought of sleeping with someone so much older, someone who had been a (sort of) teacher to you, was such a turn on that it made you drip right down his fingers and across his palm.

The next second, all sensations left you. His fingers and his back disappeared, leaving you cold and empty. Your hands gripped the counter tightly as you watched him round it again, settling lazily into the chair and watching you with half-lidded eyes. You blinked at him in shock.

“You want it bad, right?” He started. “Came all the way here for it. Well, come take it.”

He leaned back, spreading his legs. Your eyes fell to the massive bulge in his pants as he lit another cigarette, taking a long drag from it.

You didn’t have to be told twice.

You shakily stumbled to where he was, wasting no time in bunching up your dress and swinging a leg over him to straddle his hips. His smirk was sleazy and so sexy, fumbling with the strings on his sweats to pull them down just enough that his cock sprang out, hard as anything and drooling at the tip. You licked your lips.

You threw your head back and moaned in satisfaction when you finally sunk down on him, feeling him hit every spot right as he carved into you. He was bigger than any you’d ever had before. It felt heavenly, and as you watched him moan, eyes trained resolutely on you and cigarette still hanging from his lips, you felt like every dirty, wet dream you had ever had about the man was nothing compared to this.

You rolled your hips, testing the waters with him. His jaw ticked and you knew he was clenching his teeth, hand running over your bare thigh. You reached up to pull the straps of your dress down, lowering the neck until your breasts popped out.

“Oh, Jesus.” Keishin breathed, hand immediately reaching for one and squeezing. You started bouncing on his cock in earnest, loving the drag of him against your walls, but unable to go as deep as you would like, as deep as you knew he could go, unable to scratch that itch deep in your core. You whined.

“Ukai-san,” you bit your lip and gave him a pleading look. He stared at you for a few seconds before grinning, picking you up by the waist and pulling you off him. You stood on shaky legs, letting him manhandle you, turning you around and bending you over the counter, sliding back in immediately afterward like he couldn’t stand to be out of you for even one more second.

You nearly choked as he set a brutal pace, hands immediately scrambling to find purchase, anything to hold on to as he pounded into you. You let out a long, broken moan when he reached deep, deep inside you, toes curling from the sheer satisfaction of it. God, this was leagues above the dirty fantasies you had cooked in your head. Bent over this counter with your coach’s dick inside you. And he was so good, taking only a few thrusts to figure out the perfect angle to make you scream and clench around him, vision bursting with stars at the sensations coursing through your body.

Fingers carded through your hair at the back of your head, pulling hard until you were arching off the counter and making contact with Keishin’s body, his other hand reaching up to pinch your nipple hard. You yelped.

“Look at you,” he moaned, voice lower than you had ever heard it before. “Can’t stop screaming. Slut. Any of your college boys fuck you like this?”

You shook your head as much as his grip would allow, clenching harder around him at his words. You were being entirely honest. In your limited sexual experience, no one had come close to making you feel like this. Whether it was the raw anticipation of it, or if Keishin was really that good, you were already nearing your end. And it had barely been two minutes since he started.

He chuckled, sinking his teeth into your neck. Your eyes rolled up at the feeling. The knot in your stomach was getting tighter and tighter.

“You needed me to make you feel good, huh?” He groaned into your neck. “Little princess wasn’t satisfied. Needed a man to show you how good a cock can feel.”

You screamed as your muscles seized and the knot snapped, your orgasm washing over you in waves. Keishin fucked you through it, cock driving into you at an unforgiving pace. Your breaths were broken and struggling, trying not to completely fall apart as your vision clouded with tears.

Keishin pulled out of you abruptly, turning you around and setting you on the counter. One look at your flushed, sweaty face had him humming in approval, hooking his hands under your knees to pull your legs apart.

“I’m not done with you yet.”

Taglist:

@bxbyyyjocelyn @thisbicc @lazuliquartz @dreamayy @kuroosluthoe @true-form-hoe @akumakitsune21 @cham0mil3-and-h0n3y @samisfunky @universal-s1ut @msbyomimi @dohwaesu @leothesquishy @n0tmykays @tsukiran @reyofsunshinelol @bleach-your-panties @galaneiaeris @leyra-giovanni @erenspersonalwh0re @peachesncats @soapsoftheworld @iwannabecamiloshovel @vintagevict0ria @smithieandy @moonlit-mizukage @snazzyturtles

A/N: For those whose tags arent working, im sorry! I tried and for some reason, your names wont show up in the mentions :( another way of being notified is to turn on my blog notifs for @teamatsumufics . I only reblog my fics there so it serves almost like being in a taglist!

#ukai keishin smut #ukai keishin x reader #hq nsfw recs #hq smut

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sicaron · 27 days

Text

kinktober 2023 -> day 27

hate sex - kuroo tetsuro x reader

word count: 2100

warnings: swearing, nsfw, reader is yaku’s sister, both of them are kinda assholes but not really lol

kinktober masterlist

Kuroo Tetsuro was a very talented individual. Because no one had the capacity to piss you off quite like he did.

You should’ve known the minute you walked into your biochem class that he would become the bane of your existence. You wished you had gotten some sort of warning when you chose your major. A sign. A whisper from the gods. Anything at all to stop you in your tracks. But no, you were here now, and you were stuck seeing him in class every time.

If only that was where it stopped. But then you discovered that he was on the college volleyball team with your brother Morisuke and apparently, they were thick as thieves. The nightmare just kept getting worse.

It’s not even that he was a jerk to you or he bullied you. You just thought he was too cocky and loud and the smirk he supported was stupid. Unfortunately, the moment he found out that you didn't like him, he made it his mission to annoy the crap out of you any chance he got.

He would make jokes about your height, or how uptight you were. He would call you dumb under his breath if you got something wrong in class, or would snicker when the teacher corrected you. He had a taunting lilt to his voice when he talked to you, like his mere words were making fun of you. It was embarrassing, and it stung a bit, but mostly it served to make you angry. Morisuke would always tell you to let it go. That Kuroo was a provocative and inflammatory person by nature, but at this point even his voice annoyed you.

“What kind of pleasure does this bring you?” You gritted out, refusing to look up at his stupid grin.

“It tingles me just right, sweets.” He replied.

“Ugh.” You made a disgusted face, giving him a look that hopefully communicated that.

“You are gross.” You responded, turning back to your book. “Now can you please leave? I have a quiz I need to study for.”

Kuroo hummed, as if contemplating your request. He leaned back in his chair, balancing it precariously on its two back legs. They squeaked in the silence of the library, making your cheek twitch.

“Nope.” He popped the ‘p’, running a hand through his already messy hair. “I’m waiting for Yaku, remember?”

“And he told you to meet him here?” You didn’t look up at him.

“No, I told him to meet me here.”

You glared at him. “To purposely annoy me? Is that it? Why can’t you just stay away from me?”

He scoffed. “Don’t flatter yourself, sweets.”

You turn to him completely this time. “Then what is it, Kuroo? Why the hell are you obsessed with me? How pathetic are you?”

Kuroo stared at you incredulously. “Obsessed with you?”

He leaned forward until his face was inches from yours, eyes narrowed in anger. You nearly reeled back but held yourself in place.

“You’ve got some nerve. Thinking everything is about you. You think I give a single fuck about you? You’re just Yaku’s whiny little sister who thinks the world revolves around her. You’re not worth my time, or anyone else’s. Get your head out of the clouds or you’re going to end up taking a fall you won’t survive.”

You stared at him in shock, watching him gather his bag and water bottle before he stood up and hastily left. You stared at his retreating back, and felt anger burn through you as his words registered in your head.

You ignored the hot tears that stung your eyes.

…………………

The knock on your dorm room door startled you, and you stared at it warily. You contemplated whether you should open it or not. Maybe you could stay quiet and pretend no one was home. You weren't really in any mood to talk to people.

“I know you’re in there. The light is on.”

You nearly groaned, eyes squeezing shut. Anger boiled up in you again, and in a moment of impulse, you rushed to the door, opening it with more force than necessary.

“You've got some nerve.” Your voice shook in anger when you met his golden eyes. “Coming here after the shit you said to me today.”

Kuroo sighed, shoulders slumping. “I came to apologize for that.”

You laughed in disbelief. “What part, Kuroo? Me being whiny or me being pathetic?”

He scowled. “I didn't call you pathetic.”

“You’re getting hung up on the semantics now?!” You shrieked, stepping back to slam the door shut. Kuroo shot his foot out, blocking you from doing so.

“Excuse me? I’m not going to apologize for something I didn't even say!” He stepped inside the room, shutting it behind him so your voices didn't carry into the halls. “In fact, I specifically remember you were the one who called me pathetic. Which you still haven’t apologised for, by the way.”

“Oh my god, I hate you!” You screamed, feeling your face get hot because of how angry you were.

“Trust me, the feeling is mutual!” Kuroo screamed back, stepping forward until he was right in your face. You stiffened at how he was towering over you, his chest heaving and breaths coming heavy and quick. His teeth were clenched, making his jaw tick. Your eyes tracked the movement. You watched a small droplet of sweat run down the side of his face.

You stepped forward until your lips met his.

Kuroo jerked back, looking at you with wide eyes, mouth dropped open in shock. You stared at each other for a few moments, completely silent. Then, the dam broke.

Kuroo grabbed the sides of your face, sealing your lips together in a searing kiss. You moaned into his mouth, giving him the opening to slide his tongue over yours. You backed up until your legs hit your bed, falling back and Kuroo following you down, not breaking the kiss. Your limbs tangled together in a flurry, attempting to rip each other’s clothes off as quickly as you could.

“Can you hurry?” You broke the kiss, glaring at him as you tugged his shirt off.

“Can you shut the fuck up?” He bit back, pulling your sweatpants off your legs.

His lips met yours in the next moment, effectively silencing you except the little moans leaving your lips. His bare body felt heavenly against yours, and for the first time you thanked the lords that he was an athlete.

He broke the kiss again, making his way down your body with his lips. He bit at your right breast, making your breath stutter.

“Of course you would like that.” He chuckled.

“Shut the fuck up, Kuroo. Don’t ruin this-” You dissolved into a moan when he licked over your nipple, biting at it slightly before sucking. You sighed at the feeling.

His hand groped at your other breast, hips grinding down. His crotch pressed between your legs, and the pressure made you whine.

“Hurry up.” You pushed at his boxers, trying to tug them down.

“Say please~” Kuroo smirked up at you. You nearly slapped him.

“Over my dead body.”

Kuroo sighed and lifted himself off your body. He slid off you slightly, making to stand up. “Well, in that case-”

“No!” You sat up, biting your lip, staring at him. You groaned. “God, I hate you.”

Kuroo chuckled. You gasped when his fingers brushed over your clothed core, before hooking a finger into your panties and pulling them off you. His fingertips dipped into your slit. Your breath stuttered.

“Kuroo.” You stared at him, his eyes dark and pupils dilated. His lips parted, tongue peaking out just a little to run over them. His fingers continued their feather-light touch.

“Please,” you gave in.

“Please what, baby?” You whined at the nickname, feeling your core pulse. God, his voice was so husky. You stared at his lips, eyes wandering to his shoulders, his pecs, his abs, to the bulge in his underwear that was hinting at how big he probably was.

“Touch me, Tetsuro.” You whispered. “Please. Touch me, fuck me. You want me to shut the fuck up? Make it happen, then.”

He was on you the next moment, teeth digging into your skin and fingers burying themselves deep in your pussy. You yelped and moaned, spreading your legs more so he could hit deeper. His fingers were so long and delicious, reaching your spot and rubbing against it just right. Within seconds, he had you seeing stars.

“You’re such a brat.” Kuroo bit out, fingers picking up speed instantly. You could barely breathe. Your body jolted under his movements. He was being so rough. “A spoiled little princess. Greedy girl. You’re even letting me fuck you just so you can get off.”

You cried at Kuroo’s words. Fuck. Why was this turning you on so much? You clenched around his fingers, and were met with the sight of his infamous smirk, except this time, it was so much hotter than any time you had seen it before. Kuroo looked like he was enjoying the crap out of this.

“Oh, you love this, don’t you?” He goaded you, curling his fingers until your back was arching off the bed. “Such a slut. What, you got a humiliation kink or something?”

“I’m gonna cum.” You choked out, tears swimming in your vision as your toes curled.

You should've known. This was Kuroo Tetsuro you were with. There’s no way he would let you have anything good. You nearly wailed when he pulled his fingers out, soaking wet with your juices.

“Kuroo!” You cried, tears spilling down your cheeks. “Don’t- why?!”

You didn’t even care that he was witnessing you break down over this. You were just about to have what could have been the most intense orgasm of your life and he denied you it.

“You fucking asshole-”

He shushed you, leaning over and shifting slightly. Something hard prodded at your entrance, before sinking into you in one fluid motion. Your mouth dropped open at the feeling, jaw going slack. He was big, long and oh so hard, and he grazed all the right spots as he slid into you.

Kuroo wiped the tears that soaked your cheeks, brushing his nose against yours in a manner that was almost affectionate. You stared up at him, still dizzy from your almost orgasm a few moments ago. His eyes held a glint that told you tonight was going to be brutal in the best way possible.

And you were right. Kuroo fucked you through three orgasms before he even slowed his pace. You were left a blabbering, bumbling mess by the time his hips stuttered and he emptied himself inside you, warm cum washing over your walls, pushing you through one more orgasm as his unrelenting fingers rubbed at your abused, swollen clit. He didn’t care when you whined at him to stop. He was merciless throughout. It was rough and hot and it made you see stars.

You didn’t even register when his body left yours, or when he came back and ran a washcloth over the mess between your legs. You turned on your side, back sore from all the arching. You were still out of breath as he tugged on his clothes, watching him fix his hair. Well, as fixed as his messy hair could get. Aside from the sweat on his face and his slightly heavy breathing, he seemed unfazed. You would think he was out for a run, not rearranging your guts.

You didn’t realize he was staring at you until a few moments later, when he leaned over to brush your hair off your face. His signature smirk spread over his lips.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. You’re the best sex I’ve ever had too.”

You scowled as he straightened up, making his way to the door. “What the hell do you mean ‘too’?

He didn’t answer, humming happily to himself as he tugged his shoes on.

“You aren’t the best sex I’ve ever had.” You sat up, feeling your face turn red. He gave you a look that was so smug it made you stiffen in embarrassment. You knew he didn’t believe a word you just said. You also knew that Kuroo’s already humongous ego was about to shoot through the fucking roof.

“You’re not.” You mumbled. Kuroo pulled the door open, still supporting the insufferable smirk on his face, giving you a teasing wink.

“You’re not, Kuroo!” You called behind him as the door clicked shut. Sighing, you flopped back onto the bed, staring at the ceiling and ruminating on everything that had just happened.

Fuck.

Taglist:

#kuroo tetsurou #kuroo x reader #kuroo smut #hq nsfw recs

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sicaron · 27 days

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can you believe that we have fanfiction. that we have websites dedicated to fanfiction. that there is a place that you can go and read tens, hundreds, thousands and thousands of pieces of writing that strangers have made. people who are not "writers". people who come home at the end of the day and have feelings and say, i am going to put that into words. i am going to share those words. short, long, sweet, sad, horny, funny, wonderful words. we are all just human and we all love to make and remake and share that with others. can you believe that.

33K notes · View notes

sicaron · 27 days

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YOU KNOW YOU WANT TO

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#Genre: Smut

#Includes: Dilf Asahi x fem reader (in their 20s)

#Warnings: Daddy kink, creampie, M oral, F oral, fingering, slight edging, nipple play, pussy spank, age gap, praise, friends dad.

#Word Count: 2.7K

Minors for the love of all that’s holy please DO NOT interact , thank you :)

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Dilf Asahi whose been divorced for a few years and is so touch starved and lonely. The divorce took a real hit to his self-esteem, so he had put no effort in putting himself out there again, thinking he was too old to start dating again so what’s the point. You just wanted him to see himself how you see him because the years have been kind to him, still so big and strong, he may be a little soft now, but it makes him more welcoming, makes you feel safe. You think you should feel a little guilt with using your friend to get closer to her dad, but you can’t find yourself caring every time you get a look at his thick cock straining against the front of his pants. You want him and you’ll get him.

However, you wouldn’t put so much effort into getting his attention if it wasn’t paying off. You can practically feel his gaze glued to you whenever you show up at his house in your tiny skirt, every time you slightly bend over and it ignites you, the evidence being the obvious wet patch in your underwear. But poor Asahi would never try anything, he wasn’t like that, he felt shame in just looking let alone trying to touch, but you’re okay with making the first few moves because they’ll pay off…and oh they do.

It was late, your friend passed out long ago and when she’s out, she’s out, so you have no worry when it comes to her. You can hear the faint sound of the tv downstairs indicating that Asahi is still awake – perfect. You slowly make your way downstairs and smirk as he sputters once he gets a look at you. Your nipples are pebbled in the thin shirt you’re wearing – his shirt to be precise. It’s a tattered old band tee that he gave to his daughter years back, once it started to get tight on him and you pat yourself on the back for deciding to go with this outfit choice. He clears his throat and snaps out of his thoughts as he addresses you “what are you still doing up?”. “couldn’t sleep” you slightly pout, which draws his gaze to your plump glossy lips.

You make your way towards the couch he was spread out on, “can I sit here?” you innocently ask. “I don’t think that’s a good idea” he gets out while keeping his gaze trained on the tv.

You slowly sank to your knees in front of him and rested your hand on his thigh, high enough for it to make his breath hitch. “What are you doing?” he rasped out while glancing down at you. “Just want to make you feel good…daddy” the word you decided to add at the end had him roughly swallowing the saliva that was collecting in his mouth. While he had yet to accept your advances, he made no move to reject them, and you took that as a good sign. To further encourage him, you slowly started to massage his thigh, barely inching your hand higher, you didn’t want to scare him off. “I see the way you look at me, no one has to know” you blinked up at him.

You rose on your knees and inched your face closer to his and repeated your previous words in a whisper against his parted lips “no one has to know”, briefly glancing down at his obvious bulge that indicated that he was enjoying this more than he let on, you gently closed the remaining gap and pressed your lips against his. After a few seconds of Asahi being frozen on the spot, his reserve had clearly broken as he reciprocated the kiss with vigour.

As the kiss grew more heated and passionate, you inched your hand up his thigh and massaged his cock through his sweats and felt it respond to your touch as it grew impossibly hard, desperate to be released from its confines.

By now he gave up on resisting any of your advances and welcomed them, quickly opening his mouth once he felt your tongue probing his lips and meeting it in a twisted dance. You moved to straddle his legs and he happily accommodated you by leaning back on the couch where he cupped the back of your neck and pushed you further into the kiss. “Do you know…how long…I’ve waited for this” he got out through rough kisses. “Definitely not as long as me”

You moved your hand from his cock to his wrist, gently grabbing it and guiding it up your shirt, until it made contact with your braless chest. Your tongues continued messily twisting around each other as he moved to fully cup your breast and delicately kneed it. Your nipples immediately hardened under his touch, and he let out a groan as he moved to remove your (his) shirt and toss it on the couch next to him. He briefly pulled away from you to admire the sight in front of him. He had wanted this for so long and he could barely believe that this was happening, that someone like you would even want him, even glance at him. But as you sat in front of him, chest heaving from your passionate kiss, he couldn’t bear to waste another moment, not when your puffy nipples looked oh so inviting.

He brought his head closer to your chest and at first just kissed around your breast, taking his time to shower you with his admiration, then he progressed to lapping at your nipples which had you clenching in his lap, before he eventually took your nipple into his mouth and sucked. He gently held it between his teeth and flicked it with his tongue. “ooooh god” you moaned out, gripping the back of his head and pulling him tight to your chest. He moved to cup your other breast and rolled your nipple between his fingers, while his mouth continued its torture with your other nipple. His ministrations had you grinding your pussy against him, the more aggressive he got with your nipples, the harder you ground your pussy against his throbbing length. “Oh fuck” you softly breathed out, pulling his head away from your nipple and bringing it back up to your mouth.

You broke of the kiss and tugged at his shirt “I think you’re a little overdressed” you grinned. With a brief chuckle he let you help him out of his shirt and now it was your turn to admire him. He had clearly still maintained his physique from his volleyball days and that was clear from his large arms and toned chest and while his abs may have faded, they left in place a still firm surface. You slid off his lap and wiggled out of your remaining article of clothing- your very damp panties.

You stood for a few seconds and let him gaze at your wet slit that the light from the tv clearly highlighted before you leaned over him and tugged at his sweats, “let me help you out of those”. You pulled his sweats and boxers off together and his hard cock sprang to attention, the tip already swollen and leaking. “Fuck, if I knew you had such a big cock, I would have made a move long ago”, all he did was sweetly smile at you as you sank to your knees between his legs and took his cock into your hand and gave it an experimental stroke. Like music to your ears, you received a gruff groan from above as he cleared your hair away from your face. Starting from the base of his dick, you licked a stripe up to his tip and sucked it into you mouth, “shit baby, that feels so good” he panted out.

You released his cock and gave him a sultry smile. Taking your time, you started to lick the length of his shaft, occasionally paying attention to his balls, and taking them into your mouth. You brought him to the edge multiple times but pulled him back just as fast, enjoying his panting and flushed face as he begged you to let him cum. Precum was dripping down his cock, making it look even more delectable and you couldn’t help taking it back into your mouth and sliding it further and further until it hit the back of your throat. He was so thick and long that it was a struggle to accommodate him, but you so desperately wanted to make him fit – to make him feel good. He slowly slid back out, leaving just the tip to give you a chance to catch your breath. With the remaining length, you used your hands to stroke him with twisting motions which seeming to be the last straw. He pumped his load into your mouth with broken moans and bated breaths while you worked your throat to swallow it and looked up at him to catch him looking at you with glazed eyes. You opened your mouth showing him the remnants of his cum on your tongue before swallowing it down, “you like me being your little cum slut daddy?”

With a soft curse all he could do was nod yes – even in this situation he was still your soft and shy Asahi.

“You’re amazing. Come up here, I want to taste your pussy princess”. You crawled up towards him as he shuffled down to make room for you to straddle his face, your bare pussy now spread out before him. Reaching up he grabs the flesh of your ass in both hands to drag your wet pussy closer to his face where he proceeds to tentatively lick it. Spurred on by your quiet moans, he became bolder with his strokes, alternating from sucking your clit and sliding his tongue into your dripping hole. Asahi voiced his appreciation of your taste with muffled groans into your pussy, the vibrations making you grip his long hair and drag him further into you.

“Oh fuck Asahi, that feels so good” you groaned. Your praise was met with more eager sucking as you continued to wantonly moan and grind your cunt harder against his face, the slight stubble he supported lightly scratched the sensitive parts of your thighs which further turned you on. So entranced with your own pleasure you don’t notice him slide his middle finger into your tight hole, it clenching around the intrusion. He laps at your clit to ease the grip it has on his finger “shh its okay princess, loosen up for me, okay?” he mumbles against your wet core before proceeding to push his finger in and out.

Your breathing was starting to get more erratic and the noises you were making were getting to a dangerous level which resulted in a sharp slap to your pussy. You groaned in surprise at the sting that shorty transformed into pleasure, almost tipping you over the edge “you’ve got to be quiet, wouldn’t want you waking up f/n and cutting this short”. All you could do was nod in reply as he continued his ministrations, adding another finger and picking up speed while all you could do was bite your bottom lip to conceal the sounds. The tight string in your tummy snapped as he assaulted the sweet spot inside you and you came with a silent scream, eyes screwed shut as he looked up at you from under hooded eyes. You spasmed above him as he slowly brought you down from your high, placing gentle kisses on your puffy pussy and thighs “You done so well baby, came so hard and you managed to keep quiet”.

You lowered yourself onto his lap and brought your faces closer, “just for you daddy” before your lips met again in a less heated kiss. As his tongue invaded your mouth, you could taste yourself on him and groaned at the taste, “I like the taste of my pussy on you, you should eat it more often”. Even after everything he found himself blushing at that, unable to stop himself from gripping you harder and dragging you against him, his now hard dick sliding through your wet folds. “Mmh I can’t wait to finally have you inside me”.

And with that you reached back and gripped his thick length and slid it between your slit, getting him nice and wet and teasing yourself as you felt his tip bump against your still throbbing clit, causing you to whine. “Please baby put it in” he desperately begged. Ever so slowly you lowered yourself onto him, taking your time to feel every inch invade you, feel every vein rub against you, it seemed like an eternity before you reached the base, sitting firmly against his lap now with his dick deep inside you. You planted your hands against his chest, and he moved his hands to your hips, letting you get comfortable with his size, “fuck you’re so big daddy, can feel you deep inside me”, “I know baby I know, I can feel you clenching around me, so fucking tight”.

After a few seconds, you slowly rose, clenching at the sheer size of him before dropping down. You continued this motion for every inch before you got to his tip and slammed back down, both of you throwing your heads back at the feeling, “fuck just like that baby, just like that”. You continued this rhythm, riding his cock as his nails left crescent moons on your ass and his eager hands helped you in rising and dropping back down, “mmh fuck, I want you deeper” you moaned out. With firm hands he placed his hand on your back and pushed you towards him, your chest now flush with his and your face safely in the crook of his neck. You placed your hands against the back of the couch for support as he planted his feet and roughly thrusted up. The new angle had him hitting places inside you that had you seeing stars and clenching around him impossibly tighter, “shit, you like that princess?” “yes daddy” you cried out.

He continued to roughly pound into you, the slapping sounds echoing around the room, and you should have been slightly worried about the noise but all you could focus on was what he was doing to your body and your quickly rising orgasm. Each thrust became deeper, and your juices freely leaked out of you, a white ring surrounded the base of his dick, indicating your arousal. His movements soon became erratic, and he reached down to slide his hand between you both, fingers making quick work of your clit “cum for me baby, I know you’re close”. A few hard thrusts were all it took for you to break, your teeth sinking into his shoulder to hide you moans as you tightened around him. He let out a few curses as he continued his brutal pace, “where do you want me to cum?” he managed to ask through clenched teeth. “Inside me” you replied with zero hesitation, “fuckkk” he groaned out before he joined you in bliss, shooting hot jets of cum deep inside you, the throbbing of his cock becoming to much for you – you were bordering on overstimulation at this point.

You were both breathing heavily as you came down, you rested your head on his shoulder as he massaged your hips that were previously in his bruising grip. His cock was still lodged inside you and you could feel him softening up, something that was far more pleasant than you expected. With a gentle grip on your neck, he brought your face out of his neck so he could place a kiss on your lips and forehead. He looked good like this you thought, all fucked out and sweaty. “That was far better than I imagined” you grinned at him. “Definitely better than my dreams” he grinned back before noticing his cum leaking out of you, a sight that had him hardening again, “we should get you cleaned up” he said before gently lifting you off him. Before either of you could move any further a sound at the top of the stairs caught your attention…

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REBLOGS AND COMMENTS ARE APPRECIATED

Note: in honour of me finishing my exams (which I think I failed) enjoy this smut that’s been sitting in my drafts since forever.

;)

🏷️: @crystal-lilac @tendo-sxtori @lmaoimagine90 @lynvshuji @ray-lol @pshwaa @princessatoru @milk-and-cherryjuice @itsmeteiiteii @the-massive-simp @momoewn @euryale16 @mitzwinchester @o0lucid-imagination0o @a-book-lover-things @tojitsukaisen @dakumarauder @7mrs-malfoy7 @briokayama @teruteruyuuji @thisbicc @renster05 @queen-aria-things ༺♡༻

#hq smut #haikyuu smut #asahi smut #asahi azumane #hq nsfw recs

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sicaron · 1 month

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brew-tiful.

summary: you aren’t the most social person on the planet hence the reason you tend to avoid the crowded coffee shop not far from your dorm. but when you’re forced to go and get your most needed coffee, you had no idea the change your life would undergo when you walked through those doors. the cause of the change? the dumb charming barista behind the counter flashing smiles whenever he saw you.

pairing: oikawa tooru x fem!reader

genre: barista!au; strangers to lovers, strangers to friends to lovers, fluff!! oikawa’s a real sweetheart and major flirt uwu

word count: 7.0k

a/n: another repost! this is srsly one of my personal favs ive ever written, i need to write more barista/cafe fics

you never walked into the campus café that was a convenient distance from your dorm building, mainly due to how crowded it always was. you hate crowds. crowds mean noise. noise means distractions.

but while looking out the large glass windows at the sight of the café as you stood in front of the empty vending machine, your thoughts change.

i need a coffee to help me stay awake to write this damn essay, you think to yourself with a frown etched onto your face.

looking back at the vending machine, your eyebrows furrow in frustration. huffing to yourself, you turn around and leave the dorm building, pulling the hood of your sweatshirt over your head when you notice the damp ground and the sound of light rain hitting against the pavement.

on your way to the shop, you pass by smiling students holding their picky coffee orders in one hand, laptop in the other, with a flat expression. you pull on the strings of your sweatshirt to further tighten the hood over your head.

maybe you can order a coffee without having much social interaction.

hah, if only it was that easy.

you walk into the semi-crowded coffee shop and your nose is instantly hit by the sweet smell of brewing coffee. the smell alone wakes you up a bit, causing you to look up and around for the cash register. mustering up both the courage and patience, you wait on the end of the line.

one of the baristas, you notice, is being occupied by a small group of enthusiastic girls twirling their hair and laughing at almost everything he says, causing you to scoff to yourself. maybe this is why the line isn’t moving, you note.

then you notice another barista rush up to the cash register, nudging the social barista with a pointed expression, before asking the next person in line for their order.

the few single people in front of you know their somewhat complex order like the back of their hand and you feel uneasy, not having a clue what to get. You could go for an iced coffee…or an espresso…but that macchiato that girl was holding on the way out looked pretty good.

you don’t notice the barista formerly speaking to the group of girls stop to take a glance around the shop, until his eyes land on you. he smiles to himself, looking at the deep-in-thought pout on your face.

“hey, can i get you anything?” the boy behind the counter excuses himself from the group of giggling girls and turns to you with a welcoming smile. the barista originally at the cash register leaves to take care of a customer’s order. you feel your cheeks heat at the sudden attention you’re receiving, both from the handsome boy and the group of now glaring girls.

“i uh…” you trail off, gnawing on your lower lip, scanning over the chalkboard menu behind his head. you admire the neat handwriting on the wall as you scanned; it’s definitely boyish but still legible. you don’t notice the barista observing your concentrated face––furrowed brows and twisted lips––with an amused smile.

“let me guess,” the boy chuckles, wiping his hands on his apron. “you’ve never been here before?”

averting your gaze to the girls beside you, you can feel yourself shrink under their scrutiny. quickly turning your head back at him, you shake your head. “no, does it look obvious?”

“i think i can recognize everyone who’s ever walked in,” the barista boasts, crossing his arms. “…and i don’t think i’ve ever seen you around before.”

“i don’t really go to cafés much,” you shrug, not taking into account the fact that you were making small talk with some stranger when a few minutes ago all you wanted was a coffee.

“oh, how come?”

part of you wonders why the boy seems so interested but by the way you previously observed his encounter with the now impatient girls waiting for his attention beside you, you figure he was like that with all of the customers. Must be good for tips, you presume, glancing over at the jar next to the register labelled TIPS.

“cafés, especially busy ones, are usually…loud. i don’t really concentrate well in them so that’s why i usually get a pre-made bottled coffee from the vending machine in my dorm.”

“and today’s different because…” the boy trails off, waiting for you to continue, the side of his lip quirking up into a half smile.

“they were all out of my coffee,” you pout, looking down. the barista watches your cute expression with a soft smile but immediately drops it when you look back up. he was not used to the way his heart was beating out of his chest.

“ah, kinda hurts my ego that we were a last resort but i’ll take it since you’re here,” the barista smiles cutely and then you understand why the girls he was previously conversing with were giggling and beaming like idiots. this guy sure is charming.

noticing the line forming behind you, you flush in embarrassment. “oh god, i’m stalling. can i just get something strong to go please? i need all the caffeine i can get.”

shooting you finger guns and a wink, he says, “you got it. just wait over here.”

“how pathetic,” you hear one of the girls murmur to her friends, staring directly at you. “this girl’s just dying to get out of here.”

“isn’t that a good thing? wouldn’t want to stall our oikawa any longer~” another friend beside her whispers with a knowing smile.

huffing to yourself with an eye roll, you walk around the group of girls and wait at the end of the counter near the wall.

“alright, you didn’t exactly give me cream or sugar preference so i kind of guessed? try it first so i’ll know if i need to fix it.” the barista returns with a steaming hot cup of coffee and holds it out for you to take. it’s been a while since you hadn’t had coffee that wasn’t refrigerated and synthetic. raising a curious brow at the boy’s eagerness for you to try the drink, you find yourself intrigued.

taking a small sip from the cup, you raised your eyebrows in utter praise for the drink in your hand. “this…is incredible. how much?”

the boy shook his head while waving his hands dismissively. “no charge. every customer’s first drink at this café is free,” he grins.

“are…are you sure?” you murmur, noticing the dropped jaws of the girls beside you just before their glares are replaced.

“promise! i hope to see you again soon…wait, what’s your name?”

“y/n,” you clear your throat awkwardly, feeling heat rise up your neck. man, how many times have you blushed today?

“well then, i hope to see you again, y/n. that coffee from your vending machine is probably god awful and full of garbage so i really suggest returning here,” the handsome barista winks after his statement and woah, you didn’t think you’ve ever felt more flustered than you have in the past ten minutes. you notice the group of girls beside you whisper amongst themselves.

“i…i’ll see about that. thank you…” you trail off, cocking your head to the side slightly, looking for any name-tag on the boy behind the counter.

“oikawa. my name’s oikawa tooru.”

“well, ah…thanks oikawa,” you mumble before turning to leave and sprint back to your dorms, trying your best to avoid getting rained on too harshly. the girls take your place in front of the counter, beginning their conversation with oikawa again but he’s too absorbed in the sight of you to pay any attention to them.

“he what!? he gave you a coffee on the house?” your fellow classmate and best friend, tendou, raises the empty cup from the café to examine. you raised an eyebrow as he scrutinizes it.

“yeah,” you shrug nonchalantly, “he said it was policy that the first drink is free.”

“p-pol–” throwing his head back, tendou lets out a loud laugh and you send a confused expression his way.

“what’s so funny?”

“that policy doesn’t exist, sugar,” he says in amusement, putting the cup back on the table. currently the two of you are at the study hall of your dorm building, studying for your economics test in a few days. although you would have much rather finished your essay, which was your sole purpose of the getting the coffee in the first place, your friend decided to use your generosity against you to beg you to help him study instead.

“what are you talking about? yes it does.”

“oh yeah? then how come i had to pay for my first coffee?”

“i dunno, maybe it’s a new policy,” you reason with another shrug.

“no, y/n, you know what it is? flirting.”

“pfft,” you scoff with a dismissive wave of your hand, “don’t be so ridiculous! i had maybe a five minute conversation with the guy, got my coffee and left. no flirtation was present during my trip to the coffee shop.”

“hmm,” he hums in response, pinching his chin. “yeah, no. i don’t believe it. you were just flirted with the oldest trick in the book. ‘how much for my coffee?’ ‘for you? don’t worry about it darling, it’s on the house. my treat.’” he starts off mimicking your voice unnaturally high in pitch before mimicking what you assume to be oikawa’s in a much deeper tone. you can’t help but roll your eyes at his imitations.

“hey,” you frown, smacking his arm. “he did not say that.”

“yeah but he said something like that…are you gonna go back?”

“well,” you gnaw at your lower lip, wondering what to do with this new information. “i guess i have to?”

“you have to? damn y/n––”

“to pay him back obviously,” you cut him off, thinking aloud. “right? since the policy doesn’t exist, technically i’m stealing and there’s no way my conscience could deal with that without making it eat me up inside so the only reasonable thing to do is to go back and pay them back.”

“i…” tendou trails off, scratching his head, “i guess so.”

it was the right thing to do wasn’t it? the gesture was kind and all but you couldn’t not pay them back. you know other people would call you insane for returning back to the café you knew you wouldn’t, just to spend a few dollars you could be spending on lunch. but hey, your fellow classmates worked and managed this café. they needed all the help they could get.

you march through the café doors and surprisingly, it’s less crowded than you originally thought it’d be. the sun is nearly set, indicating that most classes are well over for the day and you’d think that students would head over to the coffee shop as a way of winding down or to do some homework. seats are filled around the café but it isn’t nearly as loud and crowded as it was the day prior.

huh, not so bad.

“woah there, you look like you’re on a mission,” a messy haired barista wiping down a table toward the entrance raises his eyebrows at you and smiles in amusement.

“do you know if oikawa is here?” you cut to the chase, panting slightly from your swift walk to the shop.

furrowing his brows, he looks up in thought, “hm, he’s on break right now but he’ll be back in,” he pauses to look over your shoulder at the hanging clock hanging on the wall in the back of the shop behind the counter, “four minutes.”

“i guess i’ll wait then,” you murmur, taking an open seat at a booth against the wall of the café.

“can i get you anything in the meantime? some dessert or a drink?”

“no, no,” you shake your head with a smile. “thanks.”

“no problemo,” he grins boyishly. is it a requirement to be cute to work at this café? you thought to yourself. “if you need anything, i’m kuroo, so just holler.” it’s no wonder that this café was so popular; all the workers seem to radiate such charisma that you just couldn’t not return to say hello again.

you wait a few minutes, tapping your fingers without any sort of rhythm against the wooden table and watch the clock’s second hand gradually make its way around the circumference of the face. kuroo notices your rigid stare at the clock and fidgeting state with a mixture between an amused smile and a confused one.

“i couldn’t help but notice,” he begins when he walks back over to the side of the café you were sitting at, brushing his hands against the sides of his faded blue jeans, “that you seem kinda nervous? are you going to confess to him or something?”

popping your eyes open, you open your mouth to quickly deny his allegations before you felt yourself choke on your own breath and end up in a coughing fit. kuroo widens his eyes in panic at your response and quickly walks away to retrieve some water from behind the counter. he walks back to your table and places a tall glass of water on the table before you. “have some water.”

taking a gulp from the glass, you feel relief in your throat. placing the glass down, you sigh, “whew, thanks.”

“no problem.”

Before you could even refute kuroo’s earlier question, you hear the jingle of the café door followed by a, “good afternoon, beautiful people, i have returned!”

you can’t help but roll your eyes in amusement at oikawa and his big goofy grin. this guy just exudes charisma. he doesn’t notice you when he first walks in, probably because kuroo was in his line of sight but as soon as he walks behind the counter and grabs his apron from the hook on the wall behind him, he spots you.

“y/n, you’re back!” he smiles gleefully, while tying the back of his apron. “want another coffee?”

so he really does remember names…

shaking your head, you stand up from the table, giving kuroo a grateful smile in the process, and walk over to the counter oikawa is standing behind. “i’m here to pay you back.” you take out your wallet and start to fiddle with some bills.

“woah, what are you talking about?”

you don’t look up from your wallet when you replied, “the policy? i know it’s not real. you didn’t have to just give me a coffee on the house. it was a sweet gesture, don’t get me wrong, really smart marketing you got there but––”

“y/n,” oikawa stops you and you look up to see his amused smile.

“what?” you blink at him, tilting your head to the side in wonder. were you missing something? surely, it wasn’t for the pure reason of flirting…you didn’t exactly give him a reason to flirt with you.

“i gave you the coffee because….” he trails off before scoffing, “nevermind.” god, you’re lucky you’re cute.

“so… can I pay you back now?”

“to be fair,” oikawa crosses his arms defiantly, “since your coffee was on the house that means i paid for you so you don’t owe this shop anything.”

“oh, so i should pay you. how much was it?” you look back down at your wallet.

sighing to himself, he opens his mouth as if to answer before he closes it. drumming his fingers against the counter, he hums in thought.

“okay, how about a way to pay me back is to return here ever so often?”

“…what?” you squint your eyes suspiciously, wondering what he was asking. Is this…another marketing tactic?

“even though you said you’d think about coming here again, i saw right through you: you weren’t going to come back. and the only reason you are back is to pay me back. so to pay me back, you have to come back to this café…once a day for a week.”

“a week?” you furrow your brows. “dude, are you robbing me!? that’s like four dollars a day!”

“you don’t have to buy coffee if you come! even if you just come in to say hi, i’ll call it payment.”

you paused for a moment, thinking about his offer. “why?”

“huh?” oikawa seems taken back by the way he straightens his posture, widens his eyes and his former side smile becomes somewhat pout-like.

“what’s the deal with getting me to come around to this coffee shop? do you do this with all your new customers?”

“no,” he leans back to grin before taking notice at someone at a table awaiting their order to be taken and oikawa nods at them and puts up a finger, gesturing ‘i’ll be right there.’ turning back to you, he wiggles an eyebrow. “i guess you’re just special. i’ll see you tomorrow y/n.”

he walks around the counter and over to the student with a charismatic smile and asked their order. you stand there for a few seconds, watching him interact with the customer, trying to figure him out. a clearing of a throat breaks you away from your thoughts.

“are you sure you don’t want anything?” kuroo asks from behind the register. you’d been so focused on the other boy, you didn’t even notice kuroo walk around the counter.

“uh,” you hum, looking down at the desserts behind the glass. you thought you weren’t hungry but the somewhat loud grumble of you stomach tells you otherwise. “a blueberry muffin please.”

“sure thing,” kuroo nods, opening the case before asking, “warmed up?”

“yes, please.”

he wraps your muffin into a small bag and folds it before placing it on the counter. typing away on the register he says, “that’ll be $1.75.” finally, you were getting charged for something.

“here,” you give him five dollars. “give the rest to oikawa please? just add it to his tip jar or something.”

knitting his eyebrows together, he asks, “why?”

“well, since he refuses to let me pay him back for my coffee, i guess this’ll be my only way to,” you grin, taking the bag and waving at kuroo. “thank you!”

kuroo watches you leave with an amused smile on your face and it isn’t until the bell jingled behind you, signaling you were gone that he turns to oikawa.

“did you literally pull a ‘it’s on the house’ flirt and it backfired?”

the few customers in the café look up from their coffee or studying at kuroo’s shout, causing oikawa’s ears to go bright red. “hey!” he whisper shouts. turning to the student with a nervous smile, he reassures, “i’ll be right back.” walking over to the older boy until he’s standing on the opposite side of the counter than him, he whines, “why’d you have to announce that in front of the whole café?”

“please,” kuroo rolls his eyes with a scoff, “you’re so red and smiley, everyone didn’t need to know because I announced it. you’re so obvious, dude.”

“not to y/n apparently,” oikawa grumbles to himself, looking down at the notepad in his hand with his customer’s order before pushing it over the counter for kuroo to make. “i tried to do a smooth thing and she doesn’t even notice,” he murmurs, rubbing his forehead.

“yeah that was kind of odd. it’s like she didn’t even acknowledge it at all,” kuroo nods with furrowed brows, turning to make the drink. “think she’s just clueless or…perhaps, playing hard to get?”

“hard to get?” oikawa’s eyes widened. the thought never came to him. “you think?”

“hm, maybe?” kuroo shrugged to himself, back turned to oikawa. “girls are complicated.”

turning around to lean against the counter, oikawa cups his forehead in frustration. he’s never been in that sort of situation. granted, he’s also never been so bold with a girl he was interested in either. it was one thing to charm and flatter girls ‘till they were weak at the knees for him, but to do it upon acting on his own feelings? all of this was new.

and now you were playing hard to get?

man, did he pick a tough one.

but he was willing to fight to win you over, even if it took months.

“i’m screwed.”

“oh yeah, and i’m pretty sure she’d rather you not know but she left a large enough tip for you in your tip jar to pay for her coffee yesterday.”

“are you kidding me!?”

the next morning isn’t a particularly productive one for you. you don’t have classes until later in the afternoon but you still had studying to do and staying up late to finish your essay certainly didn’t help your mood.

maybe some breakfast would do you some good. some actual breakfast. you had a piece of toast when you woke up but the grumble of your stomach tells you you aren’t satisfied. you walk out of your dorm building and involuntarily, your feet begin moving in the direction of the sweet smell of baked goods.

of course your luck was that you’d end up at the café at the same time oikawa was working. later you’d learn that your timing was so impeccable, you’d end up at the café when oikawa was working.

“my favorite girl!” is the greeting you receive when you enter, followed by the looks from random students. this boy…

you notice two boys beside him behind the counter that you’ve never seen before, slapping his shoulder and laughing to each other, before oikawa pushes them off and offers you a grin.

“do you find joy in embarrassing me in front of strangers?” you ask when you reach the front of the counter.

“maybe a little bit,” he teases, resting his chin against his palm as he leans his elbow against the counter. “what can I get you, brew-tiful?”

the boys standing behind oikawa stifle laughs while you stare at oikawa’s wide grin with an unamused frown. “really, now? you’re gonna give me dumb coffee puns?”

“not dumb,” he denies matter-of-factly, the smile on his face never faltering, “genius. now, what would you like?”

“something filling, i’m starving,” you pat your belly with a frown. “any suggestions?”

“how about i surprise you?” he asks, quirking one of his eyebrows up.

“well the last time you did, i was pleasantly satisfied so why not?”

“great! i’ll be right back.” oikawa walks further down the counter to grab you a treat.

“so you and oikawa, huh?” one of the boys you noticed before smirk with a suggestive eyebrow wiggle.

“me and oikawa what?” you ask blankly. “i just met the guy a few days ago.”

“oh really? you guys seem pretty close for how long you’ve known each other,” the other boy pipes. you look at the boy’s name-tags with furrowed brows. bokuto and hinata.

the first boy, bokuto, nods in agreement.

“i wouldn’t say close but i guess we’re friendly with each other. no clue why, though,” you shrug.

“you’re the one who got the free drink, right?” hinata blurts, not even bothering to hide his amusement with his grin.

furrowing your eyebrows in confusion, wondering how they even found that out, you respond, “yup, that’d be me. why?”

“you must feel spe––”

“hey, what lies are you feeding her?” oikawa cut off the barista with a scowl, holding the small paper bag in his hand.

“none, we swear!” bokuto pipes, raising his hands in surrender. “were we?” he asks, turning to you with a look of pure innocence. yup, your initial thoughts about this place were right: you had to be incredibly cute to work here.

“not really,” you shrug before noticing the bag in oikawa’s hands. “is that mine?” you ask shyly, pointing your finger at it.

“it is,” oikawa beams, handing you the bag.

you found it funny how he’d look at his own friends with such pure disgust and then turn to you with the brightest smile.

“uh-uh.” you stop him from walking away, wagging your finger at him in scolding manner.

he turns back to you with a sly smile, “aw, don’t want to leave so soon y/n?”

“no-o,” you drawl, rolling your eyes, “i’d like to pay for it.”

sighing, he turns to the register and tapped the screen a few times before opening his palm out, “$1.25 please.”

“thank you,” you grin, fishing out two dollars from your wallet. “and please…keep the change.” you flash him a final smile and a wave before you turn to go.

you don’t notice him go on his tippy-toes to look over the people sat in the café and waiting on line, carefully watching for your reaction to what he picked out for you. noticing the pleased smile on your face, oikawa gives himself a pat on the back and nods to himself confidently.

“woah, she’s blind. it’s pretty obvious you’re into her,” hinata chuckles to himself, wiping the counter with a damp washcloth.

“and dumb. you were just going to give her that cookie for free again! man, i wish i had free food,” bokuto whines, shoving his hands into his empty pockets, searching for any loose change.

“yeah well, jokes on her,” oikawa said, a smile growing on his face, “i gave it to her with a discount.”

“she gave you an extra seventy five cents anyway,” hinata pauses wiping to deadpan with a knowing look.

“oh, shut up.”

“so what’s it like dating a barista? does he, like, make coffees for you during his free time?” tendou asks in the middle of one of your study sessions the following day.

“huh? who am i dating?”

“uh, that oikawa dude. isn’t he the guy who gave you the drink for free?”

“yeah… but we’re not dating??”

“oh really? everyone i talk to has been saying that so i just assumed you were being an awful friend and not telling me about your love life simply because i’m a guy.”

“please, when I get a boyfriend, you’ll be the first one to know,” you wave a hand dismissively. “but people seriously think we’re dating? that’s totally ridiculous!”

“yeah being offered things for free and being smiled at and called his ‘favorite girl’ means absolutely nothing. ridiculous.”

“i….i have no idea what you’re talking about,” you cross your arms stubbornly with a huff.

“ask anyone,” tendou says with a nonchalant shrug, “they all think you’re dating.”

“…i just met the guy!”

“ooh, i didn’t hear anything about you not liking him at all. usually your first denial against dating anyone would be explaining your feelings but…”

“don’t say that! i don’t like him, now if you’ll excuse me,” you stand from the table. “i need to go sort something out.” you’re getting a sense of deja vu from needing to confront oikawa earlier days prior.

“tell your boyfriend i said ‘hi!’” your best friend cups his hand over his mouth to shout after you begin walking away. you shoot him a final scowl of disapproval before continuing on.

it’s a busy day at the coffee shop. you crane your neck around to calculate just how many people were in front of you on line and groan in impatience when you count more than fingers on one of your hands.

this is why I don’t go to coffee shops. they’re too loud and busy.

you passed the time gazing around the coffee shop. the first few times you were in there, you didn’t really look at the scenery, too busy focusing on your coffee and paying oikawa back.

although you weren’t a huge fan of cafés, you like how warm the whole place felt. the whole shop was painted a dull forest green and there were brown wooden floorboards, perfectly accenting them. you take notice of the greenery around the café, small and tall potted plants scattered about and a fake vine wrapped around the menu board giving it an extra touch. the lights are dim, mostly because of the large array of windows in the front of the shop where the sun shone brightly through.

the tables are all wooden, that you observed the first time you sat down, but you didn’t notice how happy all the customers seemed to be until now. there are pairs and groups of friends sitting about, talking about their day or what’d they like to do over the weekend, or students in single seats, reading a book or making a conversation with a barista. you don’t see a frown anywhere. it seemed that this café radiated such good energy that no one could be angry in such a chill place.

“uh, y/n? earth to y/n?” a voice snaps you back to reality. you blink at the fingers snapping in front of your face.

“oh…hey!” you shake your head out of your daze, trying to remember why you’d come to the café in the first place.

chucking to himself, oikawa asks, “hey, brew-tiful, can I get your order?”

“just a water,” you gnaw on your lower lip in regret. why show up to his workplace if you simply had to ask him a question? you could’ve easily found him when he was done…

but then again, you never saw him outside the coffee shop so you wouldn’t know where to look in the first place.

“you came all the way here for a water?” oikawa pries, raising an eyebrow.

“no, of course she didn’t,” a voice sings, the owner of it showing up behind oikawa. “she’s obviously here to say hello to her boyfriend. don’t you have manners, dude?”

“b-boyfriend?”

“uh no.”

the two of you spoke in unison, turning to the speaker.

“you have a boyfriend?” oikawa repeats, turning to you with an almost betrayed expression on his face. “that works here?”

“i don’t?”

“wait what’s going on,” the boy, now confused, scratched his head. “are the two of you not dating? that is y/n, right? i’m pretty sure someone told me you were dating.”

“please excuse suga,” oikawa leans over the counter with a whisper, “he gobbles up any gossip he hears.”

“hey, I heard that! now move over, the people need their coffee!” suga announces, nudging oikawa to the side to take the next customer in line’s order.

oikawa nods his head, gesturing for you to walk further down the counter, to not hold up the line. you lean against the counter with your arms crossed.

“this is why i came,” you mutter. “i don’t know who said what but my friend is telling me that people are telling him, gossiping i guess, that we’re dating,” you motion between the two of you with your hand.

“wha––really?” you furrowed your eyebrows at how oikawa’s ears perk up and he smiles at what you’d told him.

“yeah, they’re all saying something about favoritism and giving me free stuff and discounts. but i haven’t gotten any since the first time though so i don’t know what they’re talking about.”

“right,” oikawa chuckles nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. “well, i didn’t say anything if that’s what you think. you think i’d do that to my favorite girl?”

“well you sure like to embarrass me so i wouldn’t be too surprised. you seem like the kind to tease me that way.”

“huh, that’s probably true but i promise it wasn’t me.”

“i believe you.” you truly did. even though you probably wouldn’t have a few days prior, but oikawa really new to to charm his way into befriending people. “so, if you didn’t tell anyone, who did?”

he shrugs. “probably people around saw us and just assumed.”

feeling your cheeks flush at the thought of people observing you and assuming you two were dating by your actions, you scoff. “pfft, what? how on earth could they think that?”

“it may sound like a total shock to you, y/n, but i don’t talk to many girls as often or as willingly as i talk to you so…”

your eyebrows furrow at that. several days prior, you saw the guy swarmed with girls around the counter giggling and cooing at him, and he seemed to bask in it. at least, you thought he did.

no doubt about it, you thought the guy was attractive since you first saw him so it didn’t come as a surprise that he had girls crowding him, hoping to earn a chance with him.

“i know what you’re thinking,” oikawa deadpans. “i talk to other girls here in the coffee shop, sure, but it’s my job. i can’t just ignore them. you, though, i engage in conversations with you first.”

you didn’t like the warm feeling bubbling in your chest.

“oh,” you mumble, fiddling with your fingers.

“i understand if you want me to back off and stop bugging you so people stop assuming we’re—“

“it’s fine,” you cut him off sharply, snapping your head up to look at him. he’s taken back by your answer, raising his eyebrows and widening his eyes. “you’re, uh, pretty cool so i don’t mind.”

“you don’t? didn’t it bother you like two minutes ago???”

iIt did,” you admit quickly, looking away for a split second, “but I changed my mind.”

“oh… so you’ll still come around?”

smiling at him, you raise an eyebrow, “where else am i supposed to get my coffee? the vending machine doesn’t compare, you know…”

“oh.”

“i’ll see ya around. i have a test to study for. bye oikawa.” you give a final wave before making your way to the entrance of the café.

even after you left, oikawa was frozen, mouth agape and eyes widened.

“uh, dude?”

“she’s willing going to come around,” the lovestruck boy sighs longingly, feeling his heart flutter in chest.

“oh man, you’re whipped,” suga chuckles to himself, patting oikawa on the back a few times before returning to making coffees. “he’s whipped!” oikawa can hear suga say to the other baristas working to which they all agree in unison.

and man, he was. at first, he might’ve seen you as a mystery, looking so out of place in that café the first time he saw you, but then the more of you he saw, his initial curiosity became anticipation in seeing you again. he couldn’t put his finger on it but something about you drew him closer to you. maybe it was your first impression of him which wasn’t like the other girls he came to meet in the café. or maybe it was the fact that you treated him like some normal guy and not eye candy. maybe he liked the fact that you were a challenge to go for.

whatever the reason was, he couldn’t wait to see you again.

“i think i like this better,” oikawa muses, leaning over the counter, while you sip your steaming hot chocolate.

“hm?” you hum, looking up at him curiously. you’re currently sitting on a stool pushed up the the coffee counter, watching oikawa clean up from the busy work day. it’s a wednesday evening and there were plenty of crammers in the café that day.

“you being here voluntarily. when I made you come, i felt a little guilty so this is much better,” he smiles, turning away from you to clear the counter of any stray mugs a customer left around.

“yeah,” you nod in agreement, looking around at the empty coffee shop. “i definitely like being here when it’s almost closed.” it was only the two of you in the coffee shop. kuroo was there about an hour earlier but left when oikawa offered to close up for him.

“y/n, we closed up a half hour ago,” oikawa says, putting the mugs in the small quaint sink in the back corner. you pause sipping from your mug to look behind you at the door. the sign was flipped open to face the interior of the cafe.

looking up at the clock, your eyes widened. “crap, i didn’t even notice! why didn’t you kick me out?” no wonder nobody had walked in.

“because it’s just you.” he shrugs before turning to you, patting his hands against his apron. “besides, it’s not like i’m itching to go back to my dorm.”

“you’re not getting paid extra though,” you frown, feeling bad for wasting his time. here you were, blabbing about how sucky your lab day was because your impotent partner couldn’t even hold a scalpel correctly when your dear friend could’ve been in his dorm sleeping peacefully.

“your company is enough,” he sighs with a side smile, resting his hands against the counter to hold himself up.

“alright, charmer,” you roll your eyes, taking another sip of your hot chocolate. you’d grown to get used to oikawa’s smooth comments but that didn’t mean you aren’t any less affected by them. “you still look tired.” his eyelids are drooping and he seems less perky during the later hours of the day.

“i’m fine~” he coos, waving you off, motioning you to finish your hot chocolate.

“no, no, you need to go to sleep. take it, i’m finished,” you hand him your half full mug.

“y/n,” he whines, hesitantly taking the mug out of your hands when you shake it around slightly.

“you have to close up,” you ignore his protests and stand up from the counter stool. “come on.”

“i’m not a baby, don’t baby me,” he frowns, putting your mug in the sink and turning on the faucet to rinse it off.

raising an amused eyebrow at him, you gesture to his face, “you’re pouting like a baby.” you tug his sleeve and hand him the keys sitting on top of the counter. “and you have an early class tomorrow, no?”

honestly, you thought your friendship was going to maybe last a few weeks before you inevitably lost touch or got too busy to see each other. but, weeks later, your friendship prevailed. neither of you share any classes in common together, yet you manage to see each other everyday.

you weren’t at the coffee shop everyday, however. sometimes, he’d meet you in your dorm’s lounge to hang out, with an occasional interrogation from a very suspicious tendou.

people didn’t bother to stop talking about the two of you either, or even bother to hide it. sure, people knew you guys weren’t official or dating, but that didn’t stop them from shipping it from afar. you always ignore it. you thought you ignored it for the reason that you didn’t even care but maybe you did. perhaps you ignore it because you didn’t mind being shipped with him.

“yeah,” he murmurs, accepting the keys and shuffles closely behind you. you both exit the café and you wait for the barista to lock up before heading off in the direction of your dorms.

“why’re you still following me? isn’t your building over there?” you ask, pointing in the direction of a few buildings in the distance.

“can’t I walk you all the way to your dorm to make sure you get in safe? it’s 8 p.m., who knows what psychos are around,” oikawa shrugs tiredly. even in his obvious exhausted state, he still wants to be a gentleman. you smile in response to the gesture.

“thanks,” you mumble, looking down at your feet, feeling heat rise to your cheeks. it was getting harder and harder to keep your pulse under control with oikawa’s blunt statements, especially when there was some sort of underlying meaning you couldn’t quite put your finger on.

“you know, i may be half asleep and it’s dark out and all,” oikawa begins when you both approach the doors of your dorm building, “but don’t think i didn’t notice you get all quiet just now.”

“hm?” you hum, snapping your head up from fumbling around your wallet for your student card. “wha-what are you talking about? i’m not being quiet…why…why would you think that?” by the end of your pathetic rambles, you rub the back of your neck nervously.

oikawa raises an eyebrow at your obvious flustered state.

“just admit my endearing comments are affecting you~” he sings, holding open the door you unlocked with your key. Walking in and turning around to face him, you scowl.

“they most certainly are not!” total lie.

“mhm, sure thing, sugar,” he smiles to himself knowingly.

“oh yeah? if your endearing comments affect me so much, what’re you gonna do about it?” you huff, crossing your arms. if his endgame was for you to be flustered, what was the purpose? he had to have a reason for his incessant charms.

“well, i would most likely ask you out but being that you fail to acknowledge any of my advances on you, i’m sure it would just go over your head and you’d think it’d be a friendly hang out.”

“pfft, as if!” you rebuke stubbornly, furrowing your brows.

“bowling last week? that was supposed to be a date… and then you invited tendou,” oikawa trails off with a knowing head tilt.

oh.

OH.

“w-wait, you’ve been asking me out this whole time?”

noticing your look of pure shock, oikawa throws his head back to laugh and smacks his forehead. “to think i thought you were just playing hard to get and it’s just that you are indeed blind.”

“hey!” you whine uncrossing your arms to throw them up, “i was out here thinking you were just so flirty by nature! you know, part of your whole charm package. i didn’t actually think you wanted to date me.”

“well, I do, so now here I am being as clear as possible: y/n would you like to go out with me?” you find it hard to laugh at the way he resembles that meme of that girl you’ve seen on your twitter timeline once or twice.

“well, duh. i wouldn’t have stuck around such an annoying dude for so long if i didn’t have feelings for him,” you smile coyly, finally accepting the blush heating your cheeks.

“hey, i am not annoying. i’m charming and kind of clingy sometimes. but NOT annoying!” he grins, beginning to walk backwards away from your building. “i’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?”

you hum in agreement before calling out, “you know i actually kind of hated you when we first met? you were too happy and it messed with my ‘don’t care’ aura.”

“yeah, you made that a bit obvious. it was more the reason to be your friend and bug you though,” he calls back before giving you a final wave.

you’re about to close the door behind you when you hear a panicked, “wait!”

“hm?” you ask, eyes widening in concern. “did you forget something?”

“yeah,” he pants when he reaches you, bending over and holds his knees with his hands. when his breath evens out, he smirks, “this.”

and just like that, another way oikawa tooru makes you a flustered mess. not only will you have to deal with his incessant teasing and pun-making, but kisses now?

he kisses you gradually, bringing his hand up to cup your cheek, smiling when he hears you squeak in surprise. after getting over your nerves, your hands make their way to his arms, holding him in place as he kisses you. he releases from the kiss with a smile on his face. “better,” he murmurs before pecking your lips once more. he smiles at the dazed look in your eyes.

you thought consuming too much caffeine was the only cause of jitters but the race of your heartbeat told you maybe it wasn’t just coffee; perhaps it was some annoying barista who snuck his way under your arm and into your life.

#hq fluff #haikyuu #haikyuu fluff #oikawa tooru

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sicaron · 1 month

Text

hey loverboy!

summary: you knew the potion would be risky. i mean, come on, a love potion? everyone know that’s one of the most advanced potions one could make and with your amateur magic skills? you were sure you’d fail. but with the help of your best friend, maybe you could pull it off! what could go wrong?

pairing: kuroo tetsurou x fem!reader

genre: hogwarts!au, best friends to lovers!au, am i super knowledgable about the hp universe? no! so pls bear with me, for the sake of the au, love potions are forbidden! feat. bokuto and akaashi, fluff//minor angst

word count: 6.7k

a/n: another repost!

“y/n, seriously?” your best friend, kuroo, mutters tiredly, clutching his pillow under his right arm and rubbing his left eye with the other. “sending an owl with a letter to come to your dorm at two a.m. with nothing but a ‘just ‘cause?’”

“it’s important!” you claim, grabbing his wrist and forcefully tugging him into your room. stopping in front of your desk, you gesture to the leather bounded book open on your desk with your hand.

kuroo simply blinks, eyes adjusting to the dim light from your lamp, frown still etched on his face. “what is it?” he asks, mouth opening to let out a yawn.

“just look at the page,” you sigh, rubbing your temple with your index and middle fingers.

sighing, kuroo leans forward and places his hands on either side of the book on your desk. “philteramore? what’s that?”

in a small voice, you mumble, “a love potion.” you bring your hands behind your back bashfully, as you begin to chew on your lip.

“a love potion? y/n, are you insane?” he springs away from the book to shoot you wide eyes of concern.

“oh, come on, we both know iwaizumi isn’t going to spare me so much of a second glance anytime soon.” you roll your eyes, crossing your arms.

kuroo can’t believe his ears. a love potion? now, he’s sure you’d gone crazy. kuroo knew you were a bit on the preposterous side since the day he met you but contorting a false idea inside a guy’s mind? that was pure insanity.

love potion making was one of the few forbidden actions at your school. not that anyone did. no one tried to attempt making one since, well, no one knew how. students whisper about how all the forbidden spells and potions of your school were probably allowed at some point but after some catastrophic incident, they were banished along with any books and scrolls being burned or hidden away.

never did you actually expect to go as far as you were going now. but after a detention session clearing out the records in the school’s library, your curious mind got the better of you. books lined the cases, dusty and worn out that you could smell it upon opening the backroom door. no teacher warned you nor denied you access of the books so you thought you were just fueling the interest of your yearning mind for new knowledge.

and there, you found the burgundy leather bounded book. the color caught your attention first, a stark contrast of the ugly browns and green scattered across the shelved. opening the book, you found recipe’s for all types of hijinks and pranks. toad breath, kaleidoscope vision, two-left feet, and many more pranks you couldn’t help but snort at.

looking around the empty room, in case a teacher came to check in on your progress, you gnaw your lip. when not one sound was heard, you slip the book into your bag, whistling to yourself as you return back to the file cabinet where your detention work was momentarily halted.

returning back to your dorm with the book shoved between your regular classes’ textbooks, you push empty scraps of paper from your desk, letting them scatter across the floor.

you open the book at the page you were left on, mischievous smile reaching your lips as you imagine the pranks you could pull on your friends following class hours.

maybe i can get back at oikawa who gave me a cat tail during our transfiguration lesson.

you flip mindlessly through the book, searching for anything that jumped out at you and nearing the middle of the book a page coated in inky scrawls and warnings caught your attention. leaning in slightly to inspect the writing, your eyes widen at the revelation.

if you told kuroo you had an actual mental debate with yourself about if you were actually going to go through with it, you’re sure he wouldn’t believe you, which is acceptable when recalling your past acts of impetuosity.

“but…if you get caught–”

“why would I get caught?” you raise an eyebrow suspiciously, glancing over at the taller boy. “would you rat me out?”

“of course not,” kuroo shakes his head with a long sigh. after a beat of silence, he clicks his tongue. “what do you need me for?”

“i need help,” you mumble lowly, looking up at him with the most persuasive pout you can muster.

kuroo’s mouth twists into a frown as he arches an eyebrow. “you need my help?” he monotones.

gnawing on your lower lip, you look away sheepishly. “it’s just…you do so much better than me in potions and charms class and i really want to get this right.”

kuroo looks at your bashful expression and his own features soften. he only sees you like this occasionally; granted, it’s usually while gushing or staring at iwaizumi, star seeker for your house’s quidditch team, but this time, he knew it was your last resort. when he notices you begin to look up, his expression returns back to his previously stern one.

“you really like him?” he asks, giving a final heave of defeat, looking away from your innocent eyes.

“i think i do.” you nod stiffly, shuffling closer to your best friend.

“then let’s make the man of your dreams fall in love with you,” kuroo claps his hands with a smirk, observing the way your slumped shoulders straighten in glee.

leaping with a squeal, you outstretch your arms, engulfing kuroo in a long hug, chanting thank you’s into his chest like a broken record.

and, although he was glad to have you smiling again, kuroo couldn’t help but feel his heart break a bit.

“do you think it’ll work?” kuroo asks, staring at the vial of the clear-purple substance through the test tube.

“not sure,” you shrug, gathering your books into your backpack.

“i’ve never even heard of philteramore. i’ve heard of amortentia since we were shown it in class, but never something like this. is it supposed to be purple?”

“the book said so. and knowing you, top student of our class, helped me with it, i’m sure it’s all correct.”

“maybe we should test it,” kuroo murmurs, scanning the room for a reasonable test subject. “…just in case.”

“don’t even think about it,” you warn when you notice kuroo staring at a bird that had flown past your window and is comfortably perched on the edge. he passes you the vial with a huff when you outstretch your hand and sent him a deadpanned expression screaming, give the vial, you idiot.

“we don’t even know if it’ll work!” he says in exasperation, wondering how you could be so calm about making an illegal potion.

“if it works, awesome. if it doesn’t, oh well,” you shrug, pouring the vial into a nearly full bottle of water. the potion’s color is nearly diminished completely as the water dilute’s it.

“this is still insane,” kuroo mutters, watching you pack the water bottle into your backpack.

“i know, i know. you’ve only been telling me for the past three hours,” you roll your eyes, sending him a pointed expression. “shouldn’t you be getting ready for class?” you ask, changing the subject, and gesture to the pajamas he was still wearing underneath his robe.

“yeah, yeah,” he waves you off dismissively, grabbing his pillow from your bed and makes his way to the door.

after the two of you had made the potion, you’d both been so tired that you just passed out on your bed. it isn’t a new occurrence; kuroo often brought this pillow around when you needed some late night study help and more times than not, he just ended up passing out at your desk.

“one of these days i’m going to get in trouble and it’ll be all your fault,” kuroo says, pursing his lips together and pointing an accusatory finger your way.

“i mean, you’re the one who comes here willingly,” you coo with a smile. “so is it?”

kuroo opens his mouth to rebuke your question and when he can’t find anything to say, he settles on a huff. “touché.”

“is it clear?” you ask after he opened the door of your dorm room. peaking his head out, you watch as he turns in both directions to make sure no students are passing the halls.

“yeah. i’ll see you in class, yeah?”

“mhm,” you hum, smiling lifting your cheeks as he scrambles to leave. “…wait, kuroo?” you stop him abruptly, causing him to spin on his heel in concern lightly grasping the doorframe of your room.

“hm?”

“thank you.”

kuroo grins boyishly and tips an imaginary cap on his head with his hand. “of course, my dear.” and with that, he slips out of your room, closing the door behind him, leaving you to get dressed and ready for the day to come.

the day passes on like normal: shoving kuroo in the corridor as he teases you for your lower score on the charms pop quiz, high five-ing sugawara, your group project partner, on a presentation well done, and sneaking glances at iwaizumi as he walked to his own class and you went to yours.

your fourth class of the day, the one you shared with iwaizumi, has you filled with intense nerves and uncertainty. were you really going to go through with it?

remembering kuroo’s words regarding how farfetched and dangerous the idea was, you can’t but doubt your instinct to offer the water bottle sitting in the bottom of your backpack.

surely, he wouldn’t go crazy right?

you checked and re-checked the ingredients to ensure they were correct and carefully measured each and every component of the potion. hell, you had the guy who was tutoring students help you out.

your morals screamed at you to stop what you were doing as soon as the idea sparked in your mind. you’re not one to bend the will of fate but as it seems, given the chance, you’d twist it in your favor. the sinking feeling in your stomach alerts you to forget the plan and find some other way in gaining the popular boy’s attention, but you didn’t just stay up for an extra four hours to back out…

curse you and your stubborn-ness, really.

digging into your bag upon entering the classroom, you grab the water bottle. you stare for a moment until someone nudges you as the pass you, mumbling a a quick apology. inhaling sharply, you move swiftly toward iwaizumi’s seat, where he’s preoccupied conversing with his friend and teammate, oikawa.

jutting your elbow outwards, you push the bag from atop his desk, allowing it to fall to the floor with a light thud.

“i’m sorry!” you blurt, kneeling down to gather the bag and whatever may have slipped out. using the opportunity, just as you planned to, you slip your water bottle for his, tusking it safely under your arm.

“n’aw, that’s alright,” iwaizumi smiles easily, grabbing ahold of the strap you were offering.

you scurry to your own seat, looking over at the boy every few minutes, waiting for him to take a sip from that damn water bottle and when he does…it’s underwhelming.

you stare owlishly for his reaction and frown when nothing seems to impact him. initially, you brings his face away from the bottle, lips puckering sourly from the taste. note: potion does not taste good. you bat your eyelashes as you wait for any physical change in his face.

according to the book, the person who the love potion is made toward, in this case you, becomes the object of fixation for the person who drinks it. iwaizumi should search the room for your face and…yeah, you don’t exactly know what someone under a love potion would do. however, it’s certainly not what he’s doing right now!

from his seat, iwaizumi flips through his notebook, looking up at the professor and scribbling notes with his quill.

maybe you need to catch his attention first?

the book said it works upon impact but, maybe it’s an exception? the potion hasn’t been used in years probably so maybe with the better fertilized and sample ingredients, effects would be different?

following class, you scurry up to iwaizumi just before he leaves for practice – don’t ask how you know that – and give him a shy smile. “iwaizumi!”

turning around, he looks you over, humming in question. “what’s up?”

you stare at him blankly for a few seconds, waiting for the love potion to take effect but at no reaction, you frown.

“uh, can i help you?”

you nearly forget you caught the boy’s attention in the first place so with a wave of your hands, you bow apologetically. “i think we switched water bottles by mistake when i dropped your bag, sorry!”

“oh,” he mutters, digging into his bag for said bottle. “gotta say, that’s some weird tasting water. thanks.”

you chuckle nervously, nodding along with his words, and find yourself laughing ever after he’s gone. your voice falls when he’s out of sight and your hand cups your forehead in confusion.

it didn’t work!?

“hey, can I have some of your water?” kuroo asks, already taking the cap off.

“go ahead,” you mutter feebly, waving your friend off with a disinterested hand.

the two of you sat in the great hall as you usually did following your day of classes. there, the two of you did your homework and when seeing someone you both new, invited them to sit with you and catch up with whatever school-related or non-school-related drama there was to know about.

frankly, you didn’t feel like speaking to anyone right now, so you’re hoping kuroo doesn’t pry much out of you, especially regarding that wretched potion.

“what’s up?” kuroo raises an eyebrow as he drink from the bottle, looking down at your gloomy expression. had you failed another pop quiz? he swore he went over every topic with you so that should be nearly impossible!

how could the potion not work!? you were sure you went over the formula more than ten times.

you hum a sound kuroo could only decipher as a protest to talk about it and in response, he simply nods, continuing to take gulps from your bottle.

“…this water tastes weird.” kuroo’s lips twisted into a sour pucker.

“that’s because that’s the love potion,” you reply glumly, not bothering to lift your head which was turned sideways as your cheek rested against your crossed arms.

“i’m sorry, what?” kuroo cranes his head, exclaimed, snapping you out of your gloomy daze and caused you to sit up.

“relax,” you drawl, putting your hand up in reassurance, “it doesn’t even work.”

“it…it doesn’t?” kuroo asks, staring at the bottle suspiciously.

“it didn’t work on iwaizumi so no, it doesn’t,” you shrug, taking the bottle and stuffing it back into your bag. “i’m kind of sad about it but at the same time pretty relieved because imagine forcing him to be in love with me? that’s pretty low…even for me. but i’m still bummed because i wanted him to ask me to–why’re you looking at me like that?” you cut yourself off, staring at kuroo’s soft gaze eyes and dreamy smile warily.

“what do you mean? can’t i stare at my pretty best friend?” he asks innocently, leaning his cheek against his palm as his elbow rested against the lunch table.

“uh, yeah okay.” you avert your gaze from his gawking stare. you turn your attention back to the book in front of you, deciding to ignore kuroo’s unusual questions.

“i’m sorry about what happened,” kuroo says softly, reaching over the table to gently grasp your arm. “but i’m here for you.”

your lips part as you blink at your best friend, observing as he pats your arm affectionately. had your best friend been the affectionate type, you wouldn’t mind his actions. but kuroo’s voice had never gone that soft, nor has he comforted you in such a physical way. hell, he’s the guy who’d tell you to cry him a river, build a bridge and get over it.

“it’s not your fault iwaizumi doesn’t like you. he’s pretty blind to not realize what treasure he has in front of him.”

again, you freeze, this time head facing downward as you flit your eyes up to meet kuroo’s starstruck smile. and then it hits you. ”oh no,” you groan, leaning back in your seat.

“what’s wrong?” kuroo asks, head tilting slightly as concern is clearly evident on his face.

oh no.

“are you feeling okay, kuroo?” you ask tentatively, your face scrunching in worry, already expecting the worst.

“i feel wonderful, y/n,” he coos, sighing dramatically in his seat. “it’s like all i see are rainbows and sunshines. and they’re all surrounding you.”

“m-me?” you stammer, glancing around the great hall in wonder if anyone else is witnessing what you are.

“mhm,” he hums, while the dumb smile on his face never leaves.

“quick question?” you ask absentmindedly, feeling your heart race in your chest as if already knowing what his answer would be. you purse your lips together and trail a finger along the wooden table.

“what’s up, my dear?” normally the nickname was used ironically and in a more condescending tone but now? nothing but adoration was pouring out of your best friend’s mouth.

“right now…how do you feel about me?”

“that’s a dumb question,” kuroo furrows his eyebrows with an unamused expression and for a second, you think he was just messing with you before and nothing actually happened. “i’m in love with you, duh. funny question, y/n.” his head shakes in humor, as if it’s puzzling of you to ask how he felt about you.

no, no, no!

sliding down your seat, you covers your face with a whine. “this was not supposed to happen!”

“me confessing my love so bluntly? yeah, that wasn’t according to my plan either,” kuroo leans back with a shrug. “but I have such a surge of confidence and overwhelming love for you, i couldn’t just keep it in.”

“this can’t be happening right now.” you shake your head profusely. “this has to be a dream.”

“no dream, silly. ‘s all real,” kuroo smiles at you, scrunching his nose cutely before tapping yours with his index finger.

“do not tap my nose,” you warn flatly.

“yikes, aren’t you a party pooper. tell me again, why do I love you so much?” kuroo scoffs, shaking his head to himself in wonder.

“you don’t,” you deadpan, crossing your arms and rolling your eyes. “alright, so the love potion worked on you but not on iwaizumi…how does that make any sense?”

“beats me,” kuroo shrugs, “i’m pretty sure we did everything, right. if it’s any consolidation, i like the effect of it.”

“don’t get used to it. we’ll fix you up as soon as i figure out a cure.” you roll your eyes when you noticed the pout growing on his face.

“but I don’t want to be fixed up.”

“trust me, kuroo,” you send him a flat expression, “the real you does.”

when the day becomes evening, you part from kuroo, something he had a lot of trouble doing, to return back to your room to get to work. if you had to face another minute of kuroo crying for a kiss, you were going to go mad.

you spend the rest of the night going through that damn book in search of a reversal spell but to your dismay, there was no clear one. some ingredients for a counter potion were listed, however, the instructions for the rest were too faded to read.

by the morning, you’re exhausted. dark circles line your eyes as you trudge throughout the corridor for your first class and had you not taken that power nap a few hours earlier, you wouldn’t even notice the puppy-like student bounding after you, calling your name like it was the only word he knew.

“why’re you following me?” you ask, eying kuroo warily as he trails after you like a lost puppy. “don’t you have herbology on the other side of the building?”

kuroo takes longer strides, appearing beside you as you both walk through the corridor. “what’s it look like? i’m walking you to class.”

“why?”

“isn’t that what boyfriends do for their girlfriends?”

his tone of voice nearly makes you laugh solely based on how innocent it sounded.

“woah there, loverboy. you’re not my boyfriend. best friend, remember?” you stop him with a reprimanding finger, wagging it in his face.

“eh, I’ll get over the friend zone line soon enough,” kuroo smiles to himself, amused at your flushed cheeks. “i’m getting close, right?”

“nooo,” you drawl, holding your books closer to your chest and turning a corner swiftly in attempt to lose him. to no avail, he maneuvers the same corner and returns at your side. i should’ve taken the grand staircase.

“oh, come on. never once during our friendship did you feel some attraction toward me?” kuroo raises an eyebrow in question. “i sincerely doubt that.”

“pfft,” you scoff, quite unconvincingly. “like i said, no.”

“you sure about that? because I’m pretty sure I’ve made you blush more in the last ten minutes than iwai–”

“oh, here’s my class,” you cut him off, gesturing to the astronomy classroom on your left. “i’ll see you later.”

“see you after class then, my love!” kuroo calls into the classroom, causing your cheeks to heat in utter embarrassment. with a grin, he watches as students begin to look between you and him in surprise, shooting them a few knowing winks in the process.

whipping your head back to glare at your best friend, you mutter a, “wouldn’t count on it!” unfazed by your words, you catch sight of him wave cutely and blow you a kiss goodbye before continuing in a slight hurry to his own class. you walk to your seat and bury your face into your arms, too flustered to face any prying eyes at your figure.

“‘my love?’” you hear a voice snicker from beside you. “since when were you and kuroo a thing?”

“not now, bo,” you groan into your arms, shutting your eyes tightly.

“i’m just curious! how does one pair of best friends become lovers overnight?”

“we’re not dating!” you sigh out of exasperation, lifting your head to glare at the bicolored haired boy siting in the desk beside yours.

“wait what? but he just called you…” bokuto, your friend and desk-mate, trails off, blinking in confusion.

“he…drank a love potion,” you lower your voice to a murmur.

“he what!?” bokuto gasps, causing you to lunge over and press a finger to his lips. “kuroo drank a love potion?” he asks again quietly, looking down at the finger at his lips.

pulling your finger away, you sigh. “it wasn’t meant for him…”

“but he drank it and now he’s in love with you?” bokuto taps his chin, looking around in case anyone was listening in. “how’d you even figure out how to-”

“who’s in love with y/n?” another voice pipes from behind you. turning your head, you greet akaashi with an uneasy smile.

“kuroo,” bokuto chirps with a grin.

“that’s nice. so that means he finally con–”

bokuto waves a hand in front of akaashi, cutting him off. “he drank a potion.”

“a…potion?” akaashi repeats quietly, furrowing his brows in concern. “as in forbidden magic?”

“…maybe,” you flit your gaze away from his shocked one.

“y/n, you know that’s against all the school codes.”

“i know, i know.” you nod, wincing at his stern gaze. “i just wanted iwaizumi to like me.”

“iwaizumi?” akaashi arches one of his eyebrows upward. “since when have you liked him?”

“a few months now.”

“have you ever spoken to him?”

“aside from brief small talk, not really. why?”

smacking his forehead with the palm of his hand, bokuto sighs, “how do you like a guy you’ve never spoken to?”

“hey, I didn’t ask for judgement,” you scowl at your friend with a pout. “weren’t you the one who fell for your tutor after one session?”

“hey,” bokuto frowns. “that’s different.”

“is it though?” you cock your head to the side, staring at him knowingly.

“she was tutoring me! we had more than brief small talk!”

“uh-huh, okay. you definitely had full on conversation when she was teaching you the difference between transfiguration spells,” you mumble sarcastically, nodding at him.

before bokuto can reply, akaashi changes the subject, “back to the potion. can I see where you got the potion ingredients from?”

you dig into your backpack and take out the leather bounded book before handing it over to your friend. akaashi opens the book, flipping through the pages, occasionally snorting at some of the potions he passed, until he reached the the philteramore page. he scans over the words with his finger and snaps his fingers after finishing.

“i think i’ve heard of this potion from my uncle,” he mutters knowingly. “it’s not a simple love potion like many think.”

“then what is it?” you crane your head to peer at the page curiously.

“it’s a love potion, that’s true. but instead of making people fall in love–or rather, should i say, obsession–it just magnifies whatever romantic love a person has for another.”

“meaning…?” you trail off, waving your hand to gesture akaashi to continue.

“it didn’t work on iwaizumi since he doesn’t have any love for you whatsoever because he doesn’t know you. kuroo on the other hand…”

“wait, you’re saying a person has to love me already for it to work?”

bokuto lets out a gasp and covers his mouth.

“precisely.”

“so…kuroo…”

“y/n, oh my god,” bokuto whines, reaching over to shake you by the shoulders. “how dumb can you be? “

“hey!”

“i’m just saying!” bokuto huffs, crossing his arms “kuroo is pretty damn obvious!”

“he is not!” you fire back, feeling your cheeks flush. were they really implying that your best friend loved you in more than a platonic light?

“did he help you make the potion?” akaashi asks, eyes never leaving the book in his hands.

“well, yeah–”

“and what time did you text him for help?” akaashi cut you off again, flicking his eyes up to raise as eyebrow at you knowingly.

“…two…in the morning.”

“you woke up the poor guy for help and he actually came?” bokuto pouts, before shaking his head, dumbfounded how you had not realized sooner. “man, he’s so whipped for you he risks his own sleep. just. for. you.”

“i…”

you’re at an honest loss for words. they were right. no matter what time it was, you recount all the times you’ve asked kuroo for help with anything, either it be school related or over personal matters, and he always managed to show up to your rescue mere minutes later. never once did he truly complain or whine about it…okay he whined about it, but he made no effort to leave.

you always thought kuroo was there for you simply because you were there for him during his times of need. but the more you thought about it, kuroo never really did ask for your help like you did with him. he simply enjoys your company and asks to hang out.

“he really likes me…like that?” you ask in a small voice, feeling a tug at your heartstrings.

“always has.”

“since you met probably.”

“w-what!? and you’ve never told me!?” you gape, looking between your two friends.

“he always told us to keep our mouths shut and that he’d tell you when he was ready.”

“me confessing my love so bluntly? yeah, that wasn’t according to my plan either.”

so that’s what he meant. he always did feel that way, he just never had to courage to tell you.

you don’t blame him for that. you’ve best friend-zoned him enough times during your entire friendship. he’s had to hear you gush and whine about iwaizumi and how he’d never notice you. you can imagine the pain he must’ve felt just hearing your words. yet, through your rambles and rants, there was always a smile on his face as he offered the best advice he could think of. and now you’ve asked him to aid you in making a love potion for someone else? he must’ve been crushed!

“i…i should’ve realized,” you frown, looking down.

“it isn’t your fault,” bokuto quickly reassures, noticing your sunken expression. he didn’t mean to make you feel bad, really. although he was impatiently waiting on the sidelines for his buddy to gain the courage to confess to you, the last thing he wanted was to spill the beans. well, under these circumstances bokuto hopes kuroo won’t be too mad about it.

“it is. if i wasn’t so selfish and self absorbed, i would’ve noticed sooner!”

“and then what, huh? reject him?” akaashi deadpans.

“i mean…” had your best friend confessed under any other circumstances besides the one you were currently in, you probably would have rejected him and assured him you were just friends.

however, after realizing just how much kuroo truly cares for you, your heart can’t help but hammer against your ribcage. if only you hadn’t been so blind before. you weren’t supposed to be chasing after some guy you hardly knew nor spoken to. the guy you should’ve been chasing–not even, you already had him–was right in front of you.

when your professor stepped into the classroom, beginning the lesson, you lean back in your seat so akaashi could hear you whisper. “can you help me with a cure?”

“it might take some time, but sure.”

so that’s how you found yourself sneaking into the potions room following your classes.

and boy, was it hard to get away from kuroo.

“what do you mean i can’t come with?” he pouts, tilting his head innocently.

“i mean it. you can meet me in the common room in a few hours okay?”

“promise?”

“sure,” you sigh, waving his happy expression off. he’s about to leave you to find akaashi, when he spins around to peck your cheek. before you can react, he hums happily, walking lightly on his feet down the corridor.

“y’sure the professor won’t walk in?”

you’re lucky akaashi is as smart as he is because just by reading the page in the book and his memory of what his uncle had told him, he was able to deduce what could possibly cure kuroo from his…ailment. although he was a thousand percent confident about it, researching each ingredient and it’s counters, it was a safe chance of returning kuroo back to the way he usually was.

akaashi shakes his head, continuing to take sample ingredients from their designated shelves. “even if, the professor trusts me enough to know i won’t be doing anything illegal. unlike someone.” he looks over at you with a flat expression. “how did you even get the ingredients in the first place?”

you stall for a moment before responding weakly, “…kuroo?”

“of course,” akaashi chuckles, nodding to himself. “that boy would do anything for you.”

you sharply inhale at that, looking away from akaashi so he can’t see the deep flush of your face.

“you’ve been in deep thought since class,” akaashi observes, turning from the shelves, gesturing with his hand to walk forward. “has the news really affected you that much?”

“well wouldn’t you be affected? i just found out my best friend is in love with me and i…i don’t know how to react.”

“being unsure about your feelings is a good thing i guess.”

“it is?” you ask, quirking an eyebrow. “how so?”

“if you didn’t feel anything for him, you’d deny any feelings and shut down the conversation. but here you are, pondering over it all.”

his words fill your mind and with the additional feeling of your heart thumping and twisting stomach, you agree with him.

you believed that you’d never see kuroo in a more than platonic light. the first time you’d met, he was your dorky classmate who managed to be your first and only friend until you branched out in future years.

it’s odd, coming to a realization like this because all memories come rushing back and you can’t help but look into whether or not, had you paid closer attention, it would’ve been more obvious to you.

when you weren’t paying attention, was he indeed looking over at you like your friends claimed?

did he sincerely drop everything he was doing to come see you, brushing it off by saying he wasn’t doing anything in the first place?

was there a frown on his face every time you lost yourself in your own rants about the cute quidditch player on your house’s team?

you recall the times he’s tugged at your wrist, taking you to the library when you felt so defeated about one of your classes. he’d stayed with you the entire day, going over the lessons dating back weeks, just to make sure you knew your information when it came to the final.

he offered the best advice, albeit in between taunts and teases regarding your crush, when it came to iwaizumi and your heart sinks that even then, especially then, he was so selfless around you.

he’s been your date to nearly every get together your other friends invited you to, each with their own dates. kuroo offered solely for the purpose that he didn’t want to be associated with a fool like yourself, looking lonely and embarrassed. but knowing now, he probably did it for himself, too. granted, you’ve no doubt that those “dates” would’ve been less eventful and fun had kuroo not been there, so recalling them, a smile finds it way to your face.

being all consumed with your crush on iwaizumi, part of you never bothered to wonder how come boys in your year never asked you out or anything like that. but having kuroo beside you for so many years, along with his probably glare their way, it isn’t much of a surprise now.

kuroo did call you dense at certain points during lessons. but, as it turns out, you’re just as dense when it comes to real world events, too.

your heart sinks at the thought of kuroo never coming clean to his feelings, choosing to root for you and your desires on the side even if he wasn’t one of them.

what if that love potion had worked? what then?

with all of this in mind, you’re glad it didn’t. because, although the love potion didn’t work on iwaizumi like it should’ve, it worked on kuroo and in turn, worked on you, too.

“y/n? what the hell am i doing here?” that’s the first thing to leave kuroo’s mouth after you had to forcefully shove the vial of the cure down his throat. you have to say, you might miss the childish pleas of no! but i love you! he was chanting like a mantra.

a grin breaks out on your face and you immediately lunge for him in the biggest hug, bringing your head to his chest as your hands find their way around his waist and clasped together.

the two of you were alone in the common room, everyone else far too busy watching the quidditch game you would usually be extra excited to go see.

“y/n, what the hell are you doing?”

ah, now this is what you missed. you smile softly, burying your head in kuroo’s chest and resist when he tries to pull away.

“what happened? what’s with the hugging? why don’t i remember anything? how did i even get here?”

“you see,” you chuckle nervously, nervously playing with the hem of your robe’s sleeve. “you had some of the love potion we made that didn’t work on iwaizumi. but it ended up working on you so i had to spend the past few days with you claiming your love for me…quite vocally. i later learned that the love potion isn’t for making people fall in love but instead, amplify the amount of love someone feels for another. and our dear friend, akaashi, mvp right there, helped me make a cure and well, here we are!”

you’re nearly out of breath after your long ramble, leaning over to clutch your knees. you fail to meet kuroo’s eyes that are blown wide in utter shock.

“wait…did you just say I was in love with you?”

“…yes.”

shuddering as if disgusted at the thought, kuroo chuckles to himself. “how…odd.”

narrowing your eyes, you see right through his blatant attempt to appear casual. even though he knows you know the truth, he’s still denying it. not that you blame him. as far as he knows, you have nothing but platonic feelings for him.

“yeah,” you drawl, looking away briefly. “how odd, right? we’re lucky i saved you in time because for a minute there, i thought it was real and i found myself falling…”

“you did!?” as if realizing his mistake, kuroo clears his throat and rewords, “what do you mean?”

“well, like i said, according to the potion, it only works on people who already love the other person. but i guess–”

“pfft, and you’re saying i…i,” kuroo scoffs before trailing off, watching your hard stare. sighing in defeat, he slumps his shoulders. “this isn’t what i planned at all.”

smiling softly, you take a step closer to kuroo. “me neither, but hey, i like this outcome better.”

kuroo pouts in confusion, “wait why?”

lightly laughing at his expression, you shake your head. “if i’m being honest, i didn’t think i could see you…in the light i see you in now. but with this love potion, i’ve come to realize some things, which i can’t take credit for. by the way, bokuto says sorry? anyway, i’ve come to realize,” you mumble, cutting yourself off to take one of his hands in yours. looking up at him, your heart flutters at the sight of his tinted red cheeks. “i’ve come to realize that i’m stupid when it comes to love. i had no idea what love really was. i was chasing an infatuation with some boy i hardly new when i was blinded to the person who loves me unconditionally.”

a beat passes and kuroo licks his lips. “me?” he guesses, swallowing the lump in his throat.

“yeah, you.”

“so what’s this mean about us then?” he winces, raising his arm to rub the back of his neck. “is it going to be weird forever now?”

“no,” you say curtly with a singly shake of your head. “i said the potion was to magnify love that already exists. and even though you’re the one who consumed it, i think it worked on me, too. well, it didn’t amplify my love for you. it was more of an uncovering of a sheet that i’d hid away for some reason i still can’t grip. maybe it was fear about crossing that line with you if it ends up not working out? or my obsession with iwaizumi? whatever the reason was, the sheets gone and my feelings, they’re out in the open. and though, i’m still attempting to grasp at them, i know they’re there. i’m sorry i made you wait so long and probably put you through a lot.”

kuroo takes your words as an invitation to pry his hands from yours and grasp your cheeks instead. kuroo searches your eyes for a split second, probably wondering if all of this was really happening and when you lean your head against one of his palms, he grins at the fact. leaning in, he presses his lips to yours,

it isn’t until you hear a whistle from the across the common room that you both separate in embarrassment. looks like your moment alone was no longer just between the two of you.

letting go of your face, kuroo’s hands finds its way back to your hand and swings your arm. “about what you said before…”

“yeah?”

“my love for you is unconditional until you do something stupid that i need to get you out of.” kuroo grins wickedly at your dropped jaw. “okay ouch!” he clutches the arm you smacked.

“we were having a moment!”

“yeah, yeah,” kuroo nods, smile wavering into a more serious expression. “in all seriousness, you don’t know how long i’ve been waiting for you to say that. i forgive you, though…for taking so long.”

#hq fluff #haikyuu fluff #kuroo testuro

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