Tumgik
#satori x reader
oreosmama · 6 months
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Voicemails After the Breakup (Haikyuu!! Headcanons)
*GIFs not mine*
A/N: I pity the fools who ignore this a/n bc WARNING, these are hcs without those stupid bullet points bc I have suddenly emotionally decided that they fucking suck. Anyways, I hope y'all enjoy the light angst, for all those survivors who are still vibing in this fandom. Enjoy!
Word count: 1968
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Tooru Oikawa:
“I’m totally and completely over you.”
That’s how the message starts. 
Part of you wonders if you missed something, or accidentally skipped ahead. It’s so immediate, like Oikawa could barely wait for the beep before tearing into you. Like he needed to spit poison the second he had the chance. 
And it’s one of those biting remarks that he wants to let fester—for a while, evidently; he doesn’t say anything else for another five minutes. 
All that follows is a loud thud, like he’s thrown the phone away from him. And then footsteps, like he’s pacing, pacing, pacing back and forth, trying to think of more scathing words by burning holes into his carpet. 
You hit a point where you think you should delete the message, maybe try and not care about whatever else he may or may not say after waiting for so long. You nibble on your nails and tug at the snarls in your hair. You pick four pieces of lint off your sweatshirt and seventeen more off the blanket draped over your lap, and you know how many there are because you line them up and count them afterwards as you wait, anxious, listening to your ex-boyfriend’s panting. 
But a small rustle stirs at that five-minute mark, right against your ear. And a sniffle. 
“Fine.” Oikawa’s voice cracks. “You win.” 
You suck in a breath. 
“What do you wanna hear? That I miss you?” He sniffles again, then scoffs bitterly. “That I miss you so fucking much I can’t sleep at night? That my bed is so fucking cold now I can’t even stomach sleeping in it? That every girl I see I automatically compare to you because I have to—I just fucking have to, all because she’s not you. And it makes me sick.”
His chuckle is sour and crackles harshly into your eardrum. “Am I stroking your ego enough, sweetheart? Because you win. You fucking win.
“I want you back.” 
He sighs, and it sounds like he’s rubbing his forehead. 
“I need you back.” 
More beats pass in the silence. More sniffles, too, but stretched out, like he’s trying to steady his breathing. 
You don’t think it’s helping him any. As you wipe the cuffs of your sweatshirt underneath your eyes, his voice returns, thoroughly raw and wounded. It squeaks out of him, barely above a whisper. His voice is so loud and tender, like he’s cradling the phone against his cheek. 
Your hand against his warm cheek, curled over that pink skin, fingertips inches away from brushing through those soft strands, wiping tears. That’s what you wish it was. 
“I didn’t know…” 
A shaky breath. You hold yours in return. 
“I didn’t know anything could hurt this bad.”
He swallows thickly. 
“Those last few moments after you left—I thought that would be the worst of it. When you just walked out. And I keep seeing you do it, over and over and over, in my head like I can’t help but torture myself with it.
“I never knew it would get so much fucking worse.”
He whimpers a little, and your heart constricts unbearably. You tear at the damn thing buried underneath your sweatshirt, massaging the skin like it can soothe that phantom ache. 
Oikawa must hate you. Maybe he hates you like you hate him: not because of the breakup, but because you can go for weeks without seeing him, holding him, kissing him, and everything still hurts like that last time. 
“Thing is, I could’ve sworn you weren’t always in my life. It’s been two years. Only two years. And yet I can’t remember a damn thing before us. It feels like it was always us. Some fog, and then you, and then everything afterwards. Everything that was us.”
“And I hate that we had it so good, YN. I really do. Because missing you has been the worst thing that’s ever happened to me.”
The frustration in his voice is familiar, a sickening sense of deja vu around it, and you latch a hand over your mouth at how vividly the image comes to you: Oikawa tearing his fingers through his hair, teeth gritted, cheeks flushed and shiny. Like when he lost a game, but different somehow. 
Like this was something he didn’t even know he could lose.
He’s crumbling in a way he doesn’t know how to stop. That ugly part about having something wonderful and new—the moment it’s gone, what the hell are you supposed to do then?
“I just—Goddamnit, I can’t stand how badly it hurts anymore. I can’t,” he cries, desperate and aching, like his hand is fisting at his heart. You can hear the breath hitching in his throat, the hiccuping breaths after his sobs. You can hear every tear, feel it against your own cheeks, a soreness building at the front of your skull. 
Too many tears. Your body is screaming at you, too many fucking tears. 
But it’s him and he was yours and you were his. 
Were. 
You were his. 
You had no idea how much that single thought could make your entire chest throb. 
Oikawa inhales, and it makes your heart race against the thick wall caging it in, squeezing against it. 
“I need to see you.” 
He says the thought like it’s just slapped him across the face. 
“I need to go see you, I—I have to.” 
He mumbles to himself unsteadily, like he’s rocking back and forth. Debating, really, what he’s supposed to do, if he should do it at all, if it’s right after everything.
You should probably think he’s wrong.
You probably shouldn’t be curled over your phone, eyes wide, mouth open, not making a fucking peep. Waiting to hear what he’s going to do. 
Maybe—just maybe—you shouldn’t be telling yourself that as the voicemail counts down to its final seconds, if he decides he’s not going to go to you, that you’ll definitely be going to him.
“I can’t just sit here. I can’t stay in here, without you. This isn’t right, I—”
Your breath hitches when you hear the frantic jingle of keys. 
Then the sound of a door slamming. 
His footsteps racing down his apartment’s stairwell.
A car engine revving. 
“I need to see you.” 
And the voicemail ends. 
_________________________
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Satori Tendou: 
The message begins with a scoff of utter disbelief. 
“Is that what we’re doing now?”
He pauses, almost like he thinks you’re going to respond. 
“Heard from someone that I suddenly have syphilis. Yesterday, I had herpes though, so I guess I’m gonna have a tough week.”
A rustle like he’d shaking his head, like he can’t fucking believe it. 
“And sure, okay, I figured that’s fine. You can say all that shit, and it won’t really stick because everyone knows it was us and that it’s you and you’re hurt.”
He sighs. 
“But I saw it, sweetheart. I saw it.” The phone whines like he’s adjusting it against his face, and his voice is suddenly lower, darker. 
“You don’t get to have it both ways, you know. You can’t spread all that shit—all those rumors about how shitty everything was and how we didn’t have anything going for us—and then turn around two days later wearing my sweatshirt. And you don’t get to wear that necklace I gave you for our anniversary and then run away from me the second you see me. That’s just not fair—you’re not playing fair anymore.”
Something swishes around like loose clothing, and a large huff greets your ear from what must be Tendou collapsing into a seat. When his little sounds become quieter, that relentless humming and the excitable clicks of his tongue against his teeth, you figure he must have put the phone on speaker and balanced it on his knee like he always did. Mid-conversation with Ushiwaka, he always used to spin his phone with those long fingers, or bounce the damn thing up and down against his frantic leg. 
And the voicemail came through late last night, one of those dead hours where the only ones awake were Tendou, his scrambling thoughts, and the moths flitting back and forth outside his glowing window. He was always awake, always thinking, always doing something. 
When you’d first broken up, after one long, wrenching fight where you’d both lost your voices and the frustration welled so high you just couldn’t breathe anymore, you’d been thankful for the idea of sleeping soundly for the first time in months. 
You’d been wrong. You weren’t even sleeping anymore; just long, slow blinks where your phone screen would magically turn from 3:45 a.m. to 7:25 a.m., and in five minutes you’d have to get up and slug your way through another day. 
Tendou had been the same. Those naturally wide eyes sagged under the pressure, and the curve of his spine had deepened like he’d been hauling the lack of sleep everywhere he went. 
He must be sitting at his window now, at this moment in his message, pale skin aglow with wispy tendrils of moon. And he’s calling you. And he saw everything you’d done. 
“Not fair. Not fair at all,” he whines, teasing. Always, always teasing, and if you hadn’t heard the slight cripple in his voice on the last word, you’d have gone on thinking he viewed it as one big joke. 
You’re sure he heard the same thing you had—that he couldn’t keep acting like it was all fun and games. His usual, cat-like smile surely fell into a pert little frown, pale lips twisting like he’d sucked on a lemon. 
No fun, no fun, no fun, he must have been thinking. 
“Ya see, I thought we had a little deal,” Tendou drawls. “You’d talk smack and start dressing all pretty just to spite me, and then–and then I’d go ahead and delete all your pictures and put your name as ‘Bitch’ in my phone. And in, like, two weeks, we’d just be two ships, whoosh, whoosh, passing each other on the high seas of life, ya know?”
He breathes a ghost of a laugh. 
“But, sweetheart, you look like shit.” He chuckles for real this time, and it’s disgustingly hollow. “I’m not even kidding. Like someone ran you over three times every morning—it’s horrible, really.”
You curl into yourself even further, and you’re smiling, grinning, lips peeling with how much you’ve cried and how little water you’ve drank after. You hate him; God, you hate how he can make you laugh and cry at the same time. 
“But that’s okay, I’ll give you a pass just this once. I haven’t deleted your pictures yet, so I botched my end of the deal, too.” Tendou tsks his tongue. 
“I won’t go easy on you, though. Here–here, how��s about this: for every day you stop wearing my clothes—because they look horrible on you, sweetheart; really, you’re painful to watch—I’ll delete one of your pictures, eh? That means, in about–uhhdivideby365daysinayearignoringleapyearbullshit–ah, seven years, I’ll have held up my end. S’that good with you?”
You lean your head back, letting the tears flood your hair as he chuckles to himself. 
“Fuck it,” he says after a pause. Hopeless. Breathless. “Fuck it.” He must be gnawing on that pale lower lip, biting and nibbling until it bleeds. Because he lets something go to sigh again, and he must have smacked his head against the wall, and then you think he sniffled. 
“I still want you. I’ve always wanted you. And I’m tired of missing you and wanting you. Doing both hurts too much.”
Tendou soughs.
“So I’m still your Chicken Tendy, baby. Always. And I’ll be here when you're ready, syphilis and all.”
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oh-katsuki · 1 year
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The Inbetween (Tendou x Reader)
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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
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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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dira333 · 6 months
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Little Flame - Tendou Satori x Reader
from my Haikyuu Request Game - requested by M.
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She fits on his lap just a little too well, her small head raised by his right arm, her hair the same color as his.
“Satori.” You whisper and motion to your daughter, “Give her to me. It’s time for bed.”
He gives you his best puppy eyes.
“Just five more minutes.” He pleads, his other hand carding through her hair before softly tapping her nose. “It’s so cozy right now.”
You huff and play along, knowing just how much he suffers each day when he has to get to work and you stay at home with her.
“That doesn’t mean you have to leave.” He calls out softly when you move away again. “Come cuddle with us.”
You snuggle up to him at that, content to find warmth and comfort at his side, his left arm now curled around you.
“Her hair is so bright.” He sighs and looks down at the tuft of red, “Like a little flame.”
-
She fits on his lap just a little too well, bright orange carrot puree spread over her face. 
“No, no.” She refuses yet another spoon, instead pleading for chocolate.
Satori looks like he’s ready to give in but you remain steadfast.
“Just one more spoon,” you bargain with her, “Look, Papa likes it too.” You raise the spoon to Satori’s lips and watch him go cross-eyed in a faux attempt to refuse it.
Your daughter giggles and Satori takes the spoon in his mouth, making exaggerated noises as he swallows.
“One more spoon?” You ask your daughter and she nods, opening her mouth wide.
“Ah, that’s my little flame.” Satori celebrates her, raising her little arms above her head in celebration.
-
She fits on his lap just a little too well, babbling about a story that seems to be awfully interesting, even though she’s barely able to form coherent words.
Satori is eyeing them with a mix of jealousy and a broken heart.
“Why would she do that to me?” He sniffs, pressing his face into your neck in his usual dramatics. 
“Wakatoshi isn’t around as often as you. Let her have it, okay?”
“What if she wants to marry him when she’s older? The betrayal, oh, the betrayal!”
You laugh, even as you sway under the weight he’s putting on your shoulders as he drapes himself over you.
“I don’t think you have to worry about that. Firstly she’s a Daddy’s girl through and through and secondly, Wakatoshi is already married.”
“Yeah.” Satori breathes into your neck, tickling your sides as he talks. “This is my little flame we’re talking about. He can get his own.”
-
She fits on his lap just a little too well, curled into herself, arms dug into his shirt, unwilling to let go.
“Flamey,” he coos, “My little baby flame. Don’t be sad. Today’s a happy day.”
“I don’t want a brother.” She sniffs. “Brother’s are annoying. Suzumi told me all about it.”
“Ah,” Satori nods like he knows, even though he’s never had siblings, unlike you. “But you know, that’s Suzumi’s brother. Yours will be much different. You know why?”
“Why?”
“Because he has you as a sister. He can’t be awful with you as a sister, can he?”
“I guess.” 
“Now,” his left hand is in her hair, her usual braids fallen apart long ago, and he rubs her back with his other hand, always there to soothe her how she needs it, “Are you ready to meet your little brother? He’s waiting to meet you.”
Hesitantly she lets him lead her over to your bed, where her brother waits in your arms, face scrunched up and red, fists raised as if he’s ready to fight. On top of all this, is the signature red tuft of hair, making him look like a tiny, red-faced punk.
“He looks like his head is burning.” Your daughter mumbles and softly pats his hair.
“Hmm,” Satori looks down fondly, “You looked a lot like that when you were born. That’s why you’re my little flame.”
“But he’s even smaller than me, right? Like, a smaller flame?” 
“What’s smaller than a little flame?” Satori asks, his eyes now on you, counting on you to have all the answers.
“A spark.” You say and, as if on cue, the smallest member of your family sneezes.
A giggle, the first one of the day, escapes your daughter and she leans forward to press a kiss to her brother's temple.
“Hi, little spark.”
-
She still fits on his lap, even after all those growth spurts she’s gone through.
Even now, with her mouth in a thin line and dried tears coating her cheeks, you know she’d rather curl into herself than be too tall, too big for her fathers lap.
And you know, without a doubt, that Satori would rather put on a hundred pounds before having a lap not big enough to fit his daughter.
“A-a-and then he said I was u-ugly.” She’s pressing her face into his shirt, leaving imprints of tears and snot behind, but neither of you cares. 
“Oh, my baby.” Your hand’s rubbing her back soothingly and Satori’s hand is in her hair and you don’t know who’s hurting more over this, your daughter or your husband, who’s had to go through the same thing in his own childhood.
“When I was your age,” he says and you look up at him, love in your eyes and more in your heart, “The same things happened to me.”
You listen to him talk, listen to the stories you’ve heard before, again and again, because even twenty, thirty years later, some things still hurt, some cuts still need kisses.
“But you’re not a monster.” She says when he’s finished.
“And you’re not ugly.” He tells her, his finger tapping her nose. “You’re my little flame.”
“Yeah!” A little booming voice sounds from beneath you, her brother eager to help. “He’s just an idiot!”
-
She fits on his lap.
And you know your husband. You know how vulnerable his heart is when it comes to his daughter.
His daughter, his little flame, who’s now sitting on another man’s lap, her boyfriend.
“I’m not sure about him,” Satori whispers in your ear in the kitchen, pretending to be busy with the desert. You have one eye on him and the other one on your son, running rampant through the house, too much energy in his body.
“You’re jealous, honey. That’s different. He’s treating her well, you know that.”
“Hmpf.” He throws another look into the living room. 
“But she’s my little flame.” He whines, his voice low enough that only you can hear.
“I know.” You whisper back softly, pressing your hand on his chest over his beating heart. “But you have to let her grow up.”
He looks at you and you can see all the love and insecurity in his eyes, all the feelings of a heart that still bleeds even after it’s scabbed over so many times.
“I love you.” You tell him and he nods, choking on his words. He puts his hand over yours and squeezes it. 
“I love you too, mon feu.”
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MONSTER ; satori tendō
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pairing: satori tendō x fem!reader
warnings: angst (?), bullying, hurt/comfort
wc: 1.4k
requested: no
a/n: okay, this is sad, I'm so sorry guys. I promise I'll make it up to you all. feedbacks are always welcome, and requests are open!
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Satori started to put away all his things once the lesson finished. When he was done he made his way out of the classroom to head to lunch like all the other students. He met with Ushijima in the hallway and just like always they went together to the cafeteria, with Tendō excitedly rambling about the newest Shounen Jump number he read last night insted of sleeping and Ushijima silent like always. Tendō noticed the students behind them whispering, but he didn't give them much importance, they were probably talking about Ushijima and how could he ever be friend with him, nothing new to Satori.
Once they arrived they approached the table were some of their teammates sat and took a seat with them. Tendō continued his rambling, repeating the same things he just told Ushijima to the others, as he put his backpack on the ground beside him. He moved his gaze to the backpack to take out his bento, but he stopped his motions when he noticed a piece of paper attached to it. Satori furrowed his eyebrows confused, he didn't remember seeing it before, so he took it to see what it was. He became suddenly silente once he read what was written on the paper, earning some perplexed looks from his teammates.
"Tendō is everything okay?" Reon asked to his friend, who said nothing in response. Tendō quickly gathered his things and stormed out the cafeteria, without saying a single word.
[...]
You entered the gym and headed to the boys locker room, were you knew you could find the boys right after practice. Once you were in front of the door you knocked, asking if you could open without seeing anyone naked. You opened the door when you heard their permission.
"Hi everyone, where's Satori? I haven't heard from him since before lunch" you asked worried, he usually texted you in the afternoon and right before practice, so it was strange of him.
"Actually the last time we saw him was at lunch, he didn't come to practice today" Semi answered with a confirm from the others. You knew something happened, one thing was him not texting to you, another thing was him skipping practice. He loved volleyball with all his heart, it made him feel good. Nothing could stop him from playing, even if he was sick he would still go to practice, much to your dislike.
"Anybody knows if something happened?" maybe they could give you an explanation, so you could stop worrying so much.
"We just know that when he was taking his lunch out of his backpack he suddenly shut up, and when we asked if everything was okay he just stormed out of the cafeteria" Goshiki explained to you, you nodded smiling at him. You thanked them and apologised for your "interruption", then you made your way out of the gym, heading to Satori's dorm, where you hoped you could find him.
Once you were in front of his dorm you knocked, waiting for a response, that didn't come, implying that nobody was in there. But you could ear some video games music from where you were, so you knew he was in there. You tried to open the door, hoping it wasn't locked, and luckily it wasn't.
"Hi Satori" you sweetly said, entering the messy room. You didn't get an answer from him, he didn't even acknowledged you, he didn't even move his eyes from the screen to just look at you for one second.
"Is everything okay?" Still no answer, not even a nod.
"Satori you didn't go to practice, I know something bothering you" You smiled to him but still nothing. You tried to touch his shoulder to try to comfort him in someway, even if you didn't have a clue on what was in his mind, but he pulled away before your hand could reach him. You furrowed your eyebrows hurt by his actions, you knew he was in pain himself, but it still hurt seeing him refusing your touch.
You didn't know what to do, you have already been in this kind of situation with him, with his past coming back time to time, but he was never like this, completely withdrawn, not even wanting your comfort. Your eyes wondered around his dorm trying to magically find a solution on the walls or on the floor. That's when you spotted a piece of paper slightly crumpled. You didn't know why but your instict, and your curiosity, told you to pick it up. You followed what your instict tol you, then you opened it to reveal what was written on it.
Monster.
Suddenly all connected in your mind, while your eyes started to water. You blinked away the tears, and after taking a deep breath you turned back to him.
"'tori..." you tried to approach him again, being as sweet and gentle as possible.
"Don't touch me." He stated, removing from under you touch once again. You persisted, you really wanted to help him. But all he did in response to your actions was getting up from the chair to put as much distance as he could between the two of you. You looked at him in the face, his eyes were empty. Not even a glimpse of your sweet and joyful Satori.
"Don't come closer. Why are you even here? You could be with everyone at this moment, but no, you chose to come here, why? You feel sorry for me?" He spat when you took a step closer to him, you shook your head. He was in the verge of having a crisis and when you tried to talk to him he immediately cut you off continuing his rumbling.
"If you're here out of pity you can go back to whatever you where doing. I don't need your pity! I-I can take care of myself alone, like I always did." His voice broke with the sobs he was trying to suppress.
"Satori, please, calm down" With every step you took forwards he took one backwards, until he met the wall. When you were in front of him you hugged him, even if Satori was trying his best to get away from you.
"Go away! I don't want you here! Please leave me alone." His attempts to get away from you got weaker until he stopped trying to escape your embrace. Now he was wrapped around you, his head on your shoulder and his arms around your neck while yours were around his torso, as you gently moved your hands up and down his back, trying to soothe him.
"It's okay, I'm here with you" you whispered leaving gentle kisses on his head. You knew his past still taunted him. He tried to hide all of this with his loud and cheerful personality, but sometimes he needed to let his true feelings out.
People never looked past his reputation, they always thought he was weird and even dangerous sometimes, he didn't even have any friends before high school because of this. Now, with his teammates, that deep down really cared and worried about him, and with you, he felt less alone.
But there was still the constant reminder of what people thought of him for his entire life. The constant looks he received when he walked in the hallways or the whispering behind his back when he was with Ushijima or one of his teammates, was something he got used to, but today, when he read what was written on the paper, he felt like he received a slap to come back to reality, where he was a monster nobody cared about. The little kid inside him was hurt, again.
You guided him to his bed, and, once you both were laid down, he clung to you, buring his head in your chest. You caressed him, saying nothing but letting him know that you were there for him and didn't intend to leave him. You let him cry and release all his emotions, while you remained silent. At the moment he just needed your presence, you could talk to him later, once he was fully calm.
He cried until he fell asleep in your arms, and even in his sleep, he tightly held into you like you were his anchor, because, in fact, you were.
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lowkeyremi · 10 months
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A lil drabble cuz its my baby's birthday (HAPPY BDAY TENDOU!!! ❤️❤️❤️❤️)
He gives this sweetest hugs. They’re just absolutely perfect, it’s always like ur hugging a very soft pillow.
The reason for his delicate hugs is that he wants you to feel all the love he didn’t get the pleasure to experience growing up.
My sweet redhead boy was bullied cuz of his cute little bowl cut. I’m a firm believer that he didn’t receive many hugs and it made him so sad cuz all the other kids got to hug each other
:((
don’t fret though, he’s the world’s best hugger. Does it unconsciously, he will just come up to you and wrap his arms around you and it makes him feel like he’s protecting you.
OH LORD AND HE RUBS UR BACK TOO >>>>>>
“I missed you, baby.” He whispered into your ear as you hug him tight. He hugs right back making sure to rub soft circles into your back.
Such a cuddler. He never wants to let you go and physically dreads having to be away from your warmth. And tbh you feel the same way.
Sometimes when he's hugging you he'll start ranting abt how bad his day was and how your hugs have restored him.
He doesn't care if u two are in public. He'll pull u into his lap and snuggle u.
"You don't get it tendou-san! he was so-" goshiki cut himself off. he was a lil shocked when tendou grabbed ur wrist and pulled you into his lap. his nose was buried in your neck and you smiled.
"Sorry bout him, goshiki. go ahead n continue."
When ur in a bad mood he brings u his homemade chocolate and u two watch movies.
Idc what anyone says, tendou's main love language is physical contact/affection.
Sometimes he'll strip just for the purpose of feeling his skin on yours, its not even sexual. he just wants to love on u
That's a wrap, just wanted to write something for my baby's bday
HAPPY BIRTHDAY TENDOU ❤️❤️
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vainilla-milk · 1 year
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This tiktok is perfect for Asahi, Hirugami, Miya twins, Suna, Wakatoshi, Bokuto, Satori, Aone and Kuroo😖😖
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stupidsagestars · 1 year
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𝐬.𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐮 𝐱 (𝐟) 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: a famous chess player who's shy and quiet has a bit of fun with a bold,fun photographer.
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: smut,cum eating,fingering,cunilingus,riding, degradation.
'★- i watched queen's gambit a while ago and I just couldn't stop thinking of an oblivious chess reader having to deal with an eccentric Tendō, enjoy!!
--𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐕𝐀𝐓𝐄 𝐏𝐇𝐎𝐓𝐎𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐏𝐇𝐄𝐑--
--•--•
It had been approximately 6 weeks since you had won the national chess championships being the first woman to do so in the last 50 years. This obviously made it in papers around the world. You had been in interviews,adverts,signed contracts with brands all in the space of a month. Now it was a time for yet another photoshoot. You dressed in a simple sundress since you knew you would have to change anyway and brought along a bag with a chess board in it. According to your agent, your destination was a manor in the countryside, you were taking pictures for Vogue's spring magazine.
You knocked on the door and waited for someone to hopefully open it.
It slowly opened and you found yourself face to face with an extremely attractive guy. His hair was a cherry red which was unusual but it fit him so well. He was super tall so he towered over you. His eyes are wide and seem to be analyzing you with ever glance. He's dressed in a blue and white striped polo shirt with beige trousers and green socks.
"So you're here!" He said welcoming you in.
"It's a pleasure to meet you miss chess champion, I'm Tendo Satori, your photographer" He says offering his hand out for you to shake it.
"This place is incredibly beautiful,do you own it?" You asked, observing the space around you.
"Yep. Although I wasn't the one who decorated it." He notes, leaning on an armchair behind him.
"Do you have a girlfriend who did it all for you?" You ask.
He scoffs, "Nope, I'm quite lucky to be honest this place is passed down from my dad who got it front grandad who got it from his dad- you get what I mean."
You nod.
"So, we'll be working all around the house today. Let's start in the kitchen, do you have your clothes?" He asks, adjusting the lens on his camera.
You freeze. "Oh uh I thought they would be here."
"Don't worry about it. I'll call 'em and see what they say." He plunges his hand in his pocket for his phone and leaves you for a moment to have a chat with whoever was in charge.
You were left to sort of just stand there, you decided to take out you chess board. You walked over to the kitchen and placed it on the island. You didn't take the pieces out so you didn't look rude. Instead you just played it in your head, just like you did when you were kid. It was a last resort but it worked,at least it did for you.
"Move the rook forward 2 spaces." You muttered to yourself, hands tracing the board.
Suddenly you heard a voice from behind you that made you jump, "you really are great aren't you?" Tendo said, his eyes wide with interest.
"Thank you." You said quietly feeling your face burn.
"How'd you do it, like the whole playing in your head thing?"
"It sort of just happens, as a kid I'd didn't have a board so that was all I coul really do."
"That's so cool."His eyes brightened and he couldn't help but smile at this delightful woman.
He cleared his throat and began to speak. "Right so we've got a few issues. The first being that they've decided they want you for Victoria's secret today and Vogue tomorrow. It means you're going to have to wear some lingerie." He says slowly.
"But! I wouldn't want you to feel uncomfortable so you don't have to if you're not up to it."
You looked away, "I guess I can do it."
His eyes light up,"Great. Come with me."
You can't help but feel the tension in the atmosphere, it felt like he would say anything, those tiny praises were making your heart twist and he was so casual and cool it gave you butterflies.
"Right so the room on the left is the dressing room you'll find a red lingerie in there. I'm just going to get some equipment so I'll meet you back at the kitchen."
"Great." You say, giving him a small smile.
You walk into the dressing room which most definitely had the red lingerie you were looking for but it wasn't just that there were many, many, colours and patterns. You took off your dress and your underwear and put on the lingerie it had floral patterns on it, definitely something Victoria's secret would sell.
You take a deep breath and leave the room. You walk down the stairs to find Tendo already waiting for you.
"You look lovely." He said, eying you up and down, his breath hitched,the sight of you made his heart twist, he could feel an erection building up inside of him.
"I can't help but feel like you're giving me too many compliments." You say, innocently. Now for some reason you didn't find any of this extremely uncomfortable or lewd maybe because your brain was filled with chess pieces, competitions and strategies you didn't spend much time thinking about sexual thoughts or lustful feelings, now that you were 23 years old, although these things were common in the adult world it had still been difficult for you to adjust,coming from an orphanage that was completely disconnected from society.
"I could give alot more but I'm a professional man." He replies, running a hand through his hair. Tendou wasn't lying when he said this, he could bathe you in praises if he wished to but he didn't want to creep you out but then he couldn't help but get even more aroused, you were so innocent and just unaware, would you be different in bed, oh how funny would that be! You with a completely different personality whilst he relentlessly pounds into you, happy to be his slut.
"Right so what'd you want me to do?" You say standing Infront of the island.
"Uh, well I've put all the pieces on the board because I think we can utilise it, act like you're using it."
"Okay." You pick up the bishop and hold it in your hand.
"Nice now bend over slightly."
The camera clicks a few times.
"Perfect now I want your right hand on your hips and look like you're trying to figure something out, take some of the pieces off the board." He orders and you oblige.
"Move your hand a little up." He says and you do but he decides to walk towards you.
"Do you mind if I do it for you?"
"Go ahead."
He bends down and holds your hand gently. He moves it right above your panties, you can feel his breath on you whereas you could barely breathe. His hands were so cold against your warm body.
You couldn't help but curse in response to this odd feeling in your stomach.
"You alright y/n?" He asks slowly getting back up and putting his hands on your shoulders.
"Don't be worried, you're doing a great job." He said and you quickly nod, "t-thanks." You say but it barely comes out.
What was this feeling? This man was reducing you to feeble expressions and quick nods how did he do it. Ever since you were 7, playing chess with the old cleaner, you hadn't thought about anything but chess but over the past year or two you had become more exposed to the ideas of sex,money, alcohol and freedom, now here you were at 23 years old stealing looks at this hot photographer who couldn't stop complimenting you.
"Like that." He whispers mouth millimetres away from brushing against your ear.
He walks back behind the camera and takes more shots.
Tendou could feel the atmosphere eating him alive, god was he horny. The feeling in his dick could not be mistaken. He remembered the first time he heard about you. It was Saturday morning and he was sitting in the living room going through his emails.
"vogue spring shoot with Y/n l/n next week." He reads out slowly. He'd opened another tab to search you up.
He found himself staring at and abundance of articles.
"FIRST WOMAN TO WIN NATIONAL CHESS CHAMPIONSHIPS IN THE LAST 50 YEARS."
"𝗦𝗧𝗨𝗡𝗡𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝟮𝟯 𝗬𝗘𝗔𝗥 𝗢𝗟𝗗 𝗕𝗘𝗔𝗨𝗧𝗬 𝗧𝗔𝗞𝗘𝗦 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗪𝗜𝗡 𝗙𝗥𝗢𝗠 𝗥𝗘𝗜𝗚𝗡𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗖𝗛𝗔𝗠𝗣."
His eyes fluttered with interest. Tendo had a thing for smart girls, he didn't know if what he had could be classed as a kink but he just loved seeing this completely different side of them in bed. He was watching an interview of you now, you were exactly what he wanted, what he needed, you sounded like an intellectual,dressed casually, was extremely beautiful, he had to have you.
"She seems fun."
--★--
"Okay next up is the living room. They want a super casual mood, kind of like your recovering from a hangover."
"Oh okay."
"You're gonna have to look a little messy." He says placing a few cameras around the area.
"How messy?" You question.
"Like you've just had sex for a few hours and you've been drinking a mix of vodka and coca cola?"
You make a slightly grossed out face which he laughs at.
"Just try and look unkept it's not too hard."
"Yes it is, how am I meant to look messy??" You asks, crossing your arms.
"Ever had a hangover?"
"Surprisingly, yes, alot." You say, your voice laced with embarrassment.
"Really? Why do you seem so embarrassed about it?"
"Well you don't expect that type of behaviour from someone like me would you?" You say looking down at the floor.
"So what if I didn't, it makes you so much more interesting and it tells me you know how to have fun."
You can feel your face getting hot,"thank you."
He walks over to you and places his hand on your shoulder and examining your face.
"Now I see why you're struggling, this little face of yours is too damn pretty." He mutters, it's taking everything for him to not just pull you into a kiss.
Again, you freeze like that's all you know how to do. But you take a breath and think of it like a chess game. He was your opponent trying to rattle you.
"Again with the compliments,you really need to control yourself Mr Satori." You say, placing your hands on his and slowly pushing them off.
He looks at you surprised, but your outburst had appealed to him much more than you'd ever know.
"Why don't we take a break, like a chess break, play me, I want to know how good the chess champion is." He says breathless,a hand on his collar.
"Okay that sounds great."
"Let's play in my room, it's got a nice view." He offers.
"I would love to, lead the way sir."
--★--
You and Tendou had been sitting in his room for a good hour now, next to his large window which gave an extraordinary view to his room.
Little did you know, he had been eye fucking you ever since you had entered his room. You still hadn't taken off that red lingerie and he couldn't help but steal glances,red was his favourite colour.
You had beat him 15 times and you were both a little bit tipsy. He had offered you one of your favourite bottles which you just couldn't decline.
"Checkmate." You yawn, leaning back on the fancy armchair.
He pouts. "Seriously??"
"Yep." You chuckle.
"I would love to teach you something." He says quietly looking away.
"That would be nice, what's on your mind?"
His eyes light up.
"Stand up." He orders and you oblige.
"Do you mind if I touch you?" He asks first, standing up, his hands inches away from your hips.
"Sure."
He places one hand on your hips and another hovers around your panties.
"F-fuck." You curse, his grip becomes tighter.
"You want to continue to the game??" He whispers.
"Yes, yes." You say.
"You're a smart girl, I want full sentences, you think you can do that." He says latching his mouth on to your neck causing you to moan.
"I-I want to continue your game."
"Perfect." That consent from you was the final box ticked. He shoved his hands in your panties and let his fingers explore.
"So fucking wet." he mumbles.
Your sweet moans made him even more hornier, he wanted to fulfill all of his dirtiest fantasies right here right now.
"Little miss champion, letting herself get fingered by her photographer." He taunts, increasing his speed.
"I can see it on the papers now, little mis chess champion gets fucked outta her brains by Tendo Satori." He exclaims, slotting his lips into yours.
He notices your breath hitch and your legs shake a little which tells him you were about to cum.
"P-please go faster." You gasp, feeling yourself about to crumble.
"Ever been fingered like this y/n??" He continues, plunging his hand even deeper.
You respond with moans which tells you both everything you need to know.
"Didn't think so either." He sighs, slowly removing his hands. He shows his hand which is covered in your cum. He licks it all off, sticking his tongue out at you and smirking at your fucked out face, he was going to ruin you.
He pushes you onto his bed and you both quickly undress.
"You're so lewd." He chuckles placing his hand on your cheek.
"If anyone your the lewd one here, Mr Satori." You retort.
"Oh am I? You wanna see how lewd I can be y/n??"
He unbuttons his shirt and continues speaking, " how am I gonna explain this to my boss huh?" He clicks his tongue, giving your pussy a small slap.
"Tell him you were busy." You say and he laughs.
"I think we're gonna need more than that y/n." He say, slipping his trousers off.
You crawl over to him fiddling with the band of his Calvin Klein boxers.
"Tell him you were busy turning me into your slut."
He blinks a few times before looking at you.
You pull his boxers down and move your mouth down on his cock.
You slowly bob your head but before long he's forcing his cock down your throat, moving his hips and impeccable pace and destroying your throat. Sooner than later, there's a salty taste in your mouth, in response to his taunts earlier you stick your tongue out at him before swallowing it.
"My dirty little champion." He says, pulling you into you a long kiss.
You position yourself onto him, causing you both to let out a string of moans.
You start to bounce on him, your pussy sucked into his thick,veiny cock. He places his hands on both sides of your hips and helps you keep balance.
"Fuck,didn't know you were so nasty babe." He moans out, feeling his orgasm about to come.
"You might wanna take a picture Tendo." You breathe out, pushing yourself as deep as possible into him.
"No way, this is for my eyes only." He responds, equally breathless.
"gonna cum, gonna cum fuck." He swiftly lifts your dripping cunt onto his face leaving you in complete bliss. He lets his tongue swirls around you, eating you out like a starved man, he lets himself release, thick ropes of cum spread over his thighs.
"I'm thinking we go for round 2."
"No time to waste babe. Lets do it."
--★--
"I must say your game was pretty fun." You say arms wrapped around him.
"All thanks to you." He yawns giving you a small peck on the cheek.
"It's only 12pm and we're in bed." You chuckle.
"It's fine, I mean we did fuck for 2 hours."
★★★
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126 notes · View notes
calihoney · 2 years
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TENDO SATORI FALLS FOR A CAM GIRL
5679wc. mlist. modern au; smut: toy use (both holes), multi orgasm, masturbation, slight dirty talk. [brackets are meant to be japanese] // thank you to @notsissannis <3
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JUNE 2020
If anyone told Tendo Satori that this is where he’d be at 26, he would have laughed. For any number of reasons, but incredibly particularly for one: you. You, years out of his league and as soft and wonderful as pudding. His mind seems to go haywire at the thought of even being in yours and yet-
He doesn’t stop. He wouldn’t dare.
Instead, he glances at his door, debating turning the lock before mentally saying fuck it. There are very few people in the office, and he’s already taken the fun out of it by shutting the door. He can hear your voice in his head, teasing him about how desperate he is for you as he plops down at his desk and checks the time on his desktop monitor: 12:49 PM.
It’s perfect timing, offering him a moment to breathe as he boots up his personal laptop and signs in VPN before the show starts. He’s left himself a few extra minutes to indulge, and if everything loads- perfect.
He signs into the site, scrolling through a few updates from people he’s benched and really just needs to stop supporting before finding you. There’s a recent photo with a reminder that you’re going live 9pm PDT- similar to what you posted on Twitter, but leaving less to the the imagination as you stand in front of a stream-fogged mirror- and sheer anticipation leaves him fighting off palming himself as he clicks through to find the video you’d shared with him a few nights ago.
Early. Un-fucking- prompted. 
You’d called it ‘a treat,’ the thumbnail a photo of your beautiful smile, lips painted maroon as you coyly bit your fingers. He’d nearly cum in his shorts when he’d seen it accompanied with a simple, for last night, xo honey.
The mixed relationship you all have sets him totally on edge; because, although you typically let him set the pace with what he wants, sometimes you read him too well. Knowing and giving him exactly what he needs after a few short messages, as though you exist solely for him and his desires. 
And he finds that shit sexy as hell.
It doesn’t matter how many people you may be treating the same way (because he isn’t so foolish to think he’s the only one): every one-on-one he has with you feels intimate. Personal in a way that nothing in life is, so much so that it’s sometimes difficult to properly draw the line between where fantasy and reality go fuzzy.
Obviously.
Considering he’s about to jack off in his office (and not for the first time).
12:55.
He clicks on the video, shifting his hips as he hears your sweet voice say, “[Hi Ten.]” Your Japanese is stained with a California accent that he finds almost too cute compared to your natural speaking voice and the lewd things you get up to, but it causes his cock to throb all the same as he watches you tie a ribbon over your eyes.
It’s a touch of anonymity he wishes you’d give up. It’s been a year since he discovered you; and, he knows what color your eyes are from the few times you've worn masquerade style masks during one-on-one.
But, he isn’t above admitting that not knowing what your bare face looks like is a turn on, especially since he’s familiar with far more personal parts of you. It’s a disgusting touch of modesty that eats at his sanity and makes his dick hard.
With your arms lifted to tie the ribbon, the curve of your breasts draw his attention. The white lace is thin and cheap (he watched you tear it apart in a recent video), and he can see the [color] of your nipples peeking through, perfectly matched to the ribbon hiding your gaze from him. He licks his lips, unbuckling his belt as his eyes lazily watch the screen.
“I have to tell you,” you say, “I was a little disappointed when you didn’t say anything during the last live. And you even left early,” you pout, reaching for something off-screen. “It made me feel like I wasn’t quite good enough.”
He unzips his trousers, palming himself in anticipation. He watches you put a dildo on the table in front of you. It’s the same one you dared him to send you a few months ago- a mold of his own cock that leaves him rock hard whenever he even remembers the fact that you kept it. That you use it.
“[That won’t do, baby].”
He watches your fingers rub the mold, polished nails making it look even hotter. It doesn’t matter that he’s already watched the video. That he already knows you’re going to shove his cock into your mouth and down your throat until you're a tear-stained mess: lipstick smudged, spit covering your chin, throat, and chest as you gag and choke yourself for a solid three minutes.
He’s aching by the end of it, his cock begging to be released as he waits for you to ask, “Do I have your attention now?” Your voice is raspy, face so obviously fucked out, and Tendo can only imagine the look in your eyes. Glassy and blown wide. He wonders, not for the first time, how much of the real thing can you really take? It makes his cock throb as he wonders if you’d let him fuck your throat, his hands cradling your head, or if you’d fuck it yourself. 
“Am I good enough?”
He swallows, watching as you wipe your mouth on the back of your hand, looking just like the little savage you play so well.
He’d cum so hard the first time he watched it, your voice asking if you’re good enough echoing in his head for what felt like hours after.
12:59.
He looks at the messages below the video with his last few seconds. He’d sent you too much money  after watching it, double the amount he sends during your lives, hoping it wouldn’t piss you off.
(Honey) I didn’t send that for money
(TenSa) thanks Honey
(Honey) ^^
(Honey) You’re welcome little monster
“Little monster,” he says to himself.  Fucking bitch.
Tendo closes his messages and feels his lips curl into a smirk at the sight of you sitting on the floor, legs folded like a pretzel as you read the chat. He recognizes most of them as regulars for the moment, and you offer little tokens of verbal affection by way of bratty jabs, lazy amusement in your voice.
You’re wearing a plain tshirt, one that he knows is too large to be yours. If anyone else noticed, they haven’t said anything. It sours his stomach just as intensely as it causes his cock to ache, but the smile you’re wearing spreads wider and he forgets what it is that he’s upset about.
“Ah,” you say, fingers brushing a bit of baby hair behind your ear. “There’s my little monster.”
He all but short circuits.
You’ve never spoken to him so promptly and personally before. Every inch of him feels set ablaze as he pulls his cock from his trousers, his long fingers curling around his balls as he holds it at the base. Anticipation builds in his stomach and his chest aches over the idea of you waiting for him to join. Waiting is almost painful, but as you bite your bottom lip and search the chat from behind your familiar eye mask, Tendo realizes that he usually says something by now…that you might still be waiting for him.
“I’m feeling so sweet today,” you say, sitting up and adjusting your shirt over your shoulders. “Am I hiding something?” You laugh. “No. Not really…I thought I was going to be late, actually. I had to run an errand before-
“No, nothing fun,” you shift to sit on your knees. “I did wear a plug, though. You guys know how much I love something up my ass-” You break off with a laugh that leaves you covering your mouth and Tendo feels his chest warming in a way that reminds him that he’s truly ruined for anyone that isn’t you. 
“Yeah, such a butt slut…thank you for all of the donations,” you say, tongue sneaking out to wet your lips in a way all too familiar to him. He feels as though he’s waiting on the edge of his seat, waiting for whatever snarky comment you’re going to make as he bites his thumb. “Gotta admit it, though, you guys are desperate fucking losers for giving me money to just sit here. At least make me take my top off.”
Tendo sends 50$, take it off honey
You giggle, low and warm, and he swears he feels it in his own throat as you pull your shirt over your head to reveal a lacy red bra that perfectly matches your nails. The chat picks up and your tongue runs the length of your teeth as your fingers ghost down your chest to cup your breasts. Your thumbs brush over your nipples, bringing them to peaks as a sigh escapes you.
“It’s quarantine,” you say, voice reflecting the sweetness you claimed to be feeling. “I’ll be home tonight. Where I’m supposed to be.”
You stretch, chest swelling toward the camera before adjusting the angle. “And I’m going to give you something special,” you continue as you turn on your knees to crawl back toward the armchair you usually sit at the foot of. 
Your plush thighs and ass are perfect, but it's the plug nestled between your cheeks that steals his attention. It isn’t one of the cute jewelled ones; instead the base runs flush against the column of your ass, keeping it from slipping in during long wear.
“Those photos received such a sweet and sickening response that I’ve decided to treat you all to the real thing.”
Tendo groans, cock throbbing at the thought of the real thing. 
The photos had been a time-lapse of your pussy as you pleasured yourself, core opening and slicking beautifully. It’d been stupidly hot, so much so that he’d called a friend and asked if it would be ok to come over. He’d needed to see it for himself, to bury his face into lush thighs and taste- it hadn’t been what he wanted but it worked well enough.
You pull him from his thoughts with a smile over your shoulder before you sit down and open your thighs for everyone. Your arms circle the backs of your thighs, red nails teasing your folds.
“Do I have your attention?” You ask, voice mimicking the broken tone it’d taken after you’d throroughly fucked your throat for him, and Tendo finds himself whimpering.
Could you be talking to some other follower?  Would you? It’s oddly distressing, thinking that you’re talking directly to him during a live for everyone. 
Distressing, but he wants it. Bad.
He mirrors your actions as your fingers slide up the backs of your thighs, running his fingertips along the underside of his cock. You finger your clit, rubbing barely there circles, and he does the same to the head of his cock, licking his lips hungrily as his eyes stay fixed on the screen.
You alternate between responding to people, repeating degrading statements, and moaning at your own touch; rubbing fast as you grow nearer, your lips and hole opening deliciously as your skin darkens with arousal.
Tendo pumps into his fist, keeping his touch slow and firm as you begin to clench around nothing, the toy in your ass moving in time with each pulse as you cum. Your head falls back, the straining expanse of your curved throat replacing the view of your face. Your skin begs to be marked with handprints and hickies that he’s never seen blemish your skin. His mouth and fingers ache to do it.
“Shit, shit, shit, fuck,” you breathe, fingers still rubbing as you draw it out until you can’t stand it anymore, curling into yourself as you lean to the side.
He watches you tremble, your face pressed to the seat of the chair, listening to your soft sighs as he edges himself in his office. Shame pulses through him every now and again, but in truth he left the majority of the feeling behind months ago. When he direct-messaged you for the first time.
You don’t give yourself much time to recover, reaching off-camera and returning with a bottle of lube, a thick dildo he hasn’t seen before,  and your vibrator. You sit back up, lifting your hips just enough to shove the toy into your messy hole. “Haaa,” you breathe, tongue lolling out of your mouth for the briefest of moments and fucking yourself a little deeper and harder with every stroke. “Such a tight fit.”
Tendo matches your pace, his lashes fluttering against his cheeks as he keeps himself from cumming too soon. But your honeyed moans wash over him as he fucks his fist, long fingers squeezing his length as he imagines you would, and he feels his cock throbbing against the warmth of his palm and realizes he’s way too close to keep going.
His hips pump into his fist as he slows down, his entire body protesting. But, he distracts himself by watching you cum for a second time, your desperate cries causing a low groan to escape him despite attempting to smother it by biting his lip. “Fuck,” he pants, blindly thumbing pre from the head of his cock as your body pulses under the effects of one orgasm so soon after the other.
But, you’re a glutton and that’s what he fucking loves about you; so, it isn’t surprising when you push the toy as deep in as you can, the little smile that begins to play on your lips disappearing off screen as you shift, leaning over the seat of the chair as you position yourself on your knees. Your back arches as you reach behind you to ghost your fingers over the base of the toy in your ass, a giggle escaping you as you shake your bum and ask, “Oh? You like that view?”
He searches the chat, reading through the things people want to do to you. Things they want you to do to them. And he has to swallow the lump that forms in his throat when he realizes he isn’t much better than any of  them. 
His fingers hover over the keyboard as he watches you tug at the toy in your ass, your hole not quite slack enough to let it go so easily.
Tendo’s stomach swoops as he watches you wiggle around, your knees spreading apart as you sink your hips toward the floor. You position the base of the dildo to lay flat, mashing your clit to the balls as you sink deeper onto it. Your cunt stretches open around the thick girth, leaving you twitching and moaning as you look over your shoulder. The sight of your parted lips and sounds of pleasure leave him aching for something so far out of reach it makes it easy for him to pretend.
“[What should I do]?”
“Fucking-” He grips his cock, whimpering as he tries to think of literally anything else. He squeezes his eyes closed for a moment, tongue darting out to lick him lips before using one hand to type: [Pull it out]
You mouth out the words -once, twice- before realization seems to dawn on you, because a grin spreads across your lips as your fingers curl around the base of the plug. “Should I pull it out?...Keep it in my pussy while I do? Ouch. I don’t think-”
Settling a little more heavily on the dildo, you shift your hips and your mouth drops open as you try to pull the plug out, a small cry escaping you. “K…I said I would be nice. Not that I’d let you losers be mean to me.”
You push the plug in firmly, tongue curling over your teeth for a moment before you quickly lift your hips and push the dildo out. It falls, thick and heavy and wet before you tug the plug from your hole with a whimper.
“Are you new?” You ask as you read through messages. “I do this for my pleasure…yours is inconsequential…if you don’t like it, there are plenty of other people you can watch-
“No one does it like me?” You push two fingers into your asshole. “This guy gets it- ha, ok, all of you get it,” you smile as tips pour in. “I wanna cum again- one more time for you,” you stick your tongue out. “My cunt again? That seems like such a waste.”
Licking his lips, he reaches out to type: other hole, honey
He sends another 50$ as others second his request.
Your fingers slip into your cunt, pumping a few times before swirling around your clit and sliding back to rub your asshole. You press in, fingers prodding as your body pushes them back out, leftover lube -thick and white like cum- adding to the mess. 
“You want me to fuck my ass, Daddy?” You ask, the title cruel on your lips. “[Or my mouth?]”
He groans, loving the direct communication. He responds: fuck your little asshole, honey. Make it gape for me.
You hum when you see his message in the sea of others. “Ok…that’s much better.”
You reach for the vibrator and push it into your cunt. The squelching sound causes you to moan in pleasure as it sets the chat crazy. “Should I ride it?” You ask, but you’re already grabbing the dildo and turning to sit on your side, free hand pulling one of your cheeks to open yourself up for everyone to see. “Or should I just fuck myself?”
Tendo lets go of his cock as he watches your fingers tease your hole, feeling himself get far too close, especially as your hips twitch, cunt and asshole clenching as tips fly in. “Holy shit,” you sigh, letting go of your ass for a moment, enjoying the feel of the little pink toy.
“So good. Thank you,” you cry, pout soaking your words as you lube up your ass and the dildo. “Ha, you noticed that? Yes, it’s new. I love it,” you say, stroking the length of the toy. “People say size doesn’t matter but-” You press the black dildo into your little hole, pushing against the intrusion as you force it deeper. “Fuck yes- mmmm’haa- I like to feel nice and full…”
You begin to pump it once you’ve got a third of it in, hips still twitching. Your moans are endless now, clouding Tendo’s thoughts and rationale as he pumps himself in time with you, squeezing the head of his dick as you gasp in pleasure when it sinks a bit deeper. You have to hold your other hand over your cunt to keep the vibrator from slipping out and the sight is filthy- sinful and perfect and leaves his mouth watering as his heart and cock throb desperately. 
“Rub my clit n’ play with my tits?” You breathlessly ask. “I don’t have enough hands for all these requests,” you laugh but oblige, slowly rubbing your clit as you continue to fuck yourself, each stroke seeming deeper until you can’t take any more in. The orgasm that washes over you causes you to cry out, hand coming down to keep the toy in again.
“Fucking hell,” you breath.
He remembers the mischievous glint in your eyes when you’d done this for him during a one-on-one. You’d been using his mold and your eyes had rolled back in pleasure before you even forced yourself to take all of it. As though the sheer thought of taking all of it -all of him- had been enough to leave you seeing stars.
“[R-remember?] I bet you wish this was yours, don’t you?” You question breathlessly. “Me, too.”
He has to again pull his hand away to keep himself from cumming. You’d admitted that his was the only mold of anyone’s cock that you had. He accepts now that he isn’t mistaken- you’re talking to him.
“I wish I was fucking your big, thick cock for everyone to see. It feels like heaven, baby.”
You groan as you get the dildo balls deep. Tips roll in. He takes hold of his dick again, feeling as though he’s standing on the fucking edge as he holds out. He knows you’re not even near your limit.
“Would you let me?” You ask, voice too desperate. He squeezes the head of his cock, groaning hungrily. “Would that hold your attention?”
You whimper, holding the toy still as your body is wracked with tremors.
“Are you touching yourself?” You ask, fucking yourself again. “Fucking your fist like you wish you were fucking my asshole?” There’s a smile in your voice as you read the chat. “In my dirty asshole? If that’s what gets you- o-o-my god- off. If that’s what gets you off, babe.
“But, I promise-” you pull the toy out, showing off your pink, gaping hole “-I’m clean. I can be dirty for you, though. If you really want a little dirty honey.”
Tendo sends more money, hoping you understand he wants you to stop talking to whoever it is. Your laugh echoes in his ears, his dick throbbing at the thought of shutting you up by pressing your head down on him, forcing you to take his full length in one shove.
“Yours doesn’t seem to be a popular desire. Looks like you’ll have to- ah yes shit fuck-” your back arches, fingers mashing hard on your clit as you shove the toy in hard and hold it. “You guys are being so nice to me tonight. I’m about to lose all -hhnng, yesss- sense.”
You start fucking yourself again, slow and distractedly. “What? Oh- you’ll have to pay for a private show.”
Tendo groans in annoyance now: honey…
“Ooo, I’d love to be anal only,” you say, grinning as you read messages. “My body reacts but the pleasure is dull. Numbing,” you admit. “So I’d just be a needy mess. [Would you like that?]”
You know he absolutely would. That he would pay whatever you want if you promised not to have another cock in your cunt until you had his. You always only ever laugh when he says it and he always wants to tell you that he isn’t joking. Not even a little bit.
Your laughter pulls him from his head as he rubs pre-cum down his length. “You guys are dumb,” you say, smiling prettily. “I’m losing brain cells here.”
You slowly rub your clit, moaning sweetly as your body twitches in pleasure. “Are you going to cum for me?” You ask. “I want you to. I want your cum as I fuck my ass. I think I deserve it, don’t you?
“Let me show you how desperate I am for it.” You pull your upper leg to your chest, opening yourself up as you pound your ass, moans and groans once again endless. “I love it. Please cum so I can, too. You know exactly what I want.”
You giggle as messages flood in, calling you an anal whore and a cock slut. Some beg you to take off the mask while others praise and degrade you. Tendo knows you love all of it. And he so very stupidly loves seeing it.
“Please tell me I can,” you plead, hips shaking attractively, the vibrator forcing you to fuck the dildo as your body tremors. “I’m so close n’ I want it so bad. Please cum and give me permission so I can too, babe.” You sniffle. “Please tell me I’ve been good enough. I don’t want to wear it anymore.”
In the flood of messages you always get when you start to beg to cum in particular, Tendo sends: put the vibrator in your mouth
You groan, holes so obviously clenching.
“Why are you guys agreeing with him? You were being so nice to me before. I’ve been such a g-good girl,” you moan. “I was only a little mean earlier. Only because of that loser [username].”
You cum again, crying desperately, but it doesn’t stop you. Your hand is shaking when you tug the pink string, walls holding onto the toy as you pull it out. The sound your cunt makes when it’s tugged free is fucking sinful.
He watches as you push the toy into your mouth, lips not closing. Not on your face or between your thighs. It’s such a sight. He wants to keep it forever.
Tendo sends more money: you’re such a sweet little butt slut
Your fingers curl into your cunt as you fuck both holes. Someone asks if you really want to come from getting your ass fucked and people question whether or not the asker is new.
“I do,” you moan around the toy. “Need permission,” you ‘say,’ sounding so stupid with your full mouth that Tendo feels himself pulsing in his fist.
He smirks, watching as you drool, spit coating your chin and chest as so many give you permission. Your fingers continue to fuck your cunt, nails an absolute tease as a small cry escapes you. He reaches out and types: you’ve been such a good girl, honey
You groan, patience so obviously thread-thin. Your head falls back, against the chair. The toy makes a gross, wet sound in your mouth, fingers shiny with every loud shove into your cunt as you continue to fuck the full length of the dildo in and out of your hole. You’re an absolute mess, desperate and needy, but he’s seen you at your limit and knows you still aren’t near it.
He leans back, head against his chair for a moment, pumping his hips into his fist as his eyes bounce back and forth between you and the messages, refusing to totally acknowledge how all of it feeds a sick hunger in him. One that, like you, has ruined him for much else.
You’d joked about him being thirsty, teaching him a slew of bullshit English that he’ll never actually be able to use, but he’d swallowed it down, anyway. Because he’s a fucking dumbass. A thirsty fucking dumbass.
You look back at the screen and he quickly leans in to send more than normal: you have it, baby
The tremble you give is solely his, your groan of pleasure sweet against his ears, sticky and thick because of the vibrator.
You pump the toy in earnest, using both hands as your muffled cries dig into every inch of him. He watches, totally focused on you as you fuck yourself in short, hard thrusts.
Tendo fucks his fists in time with you, both hands around his hard length as he inches closer and closer. “Fuck,” he breathes. “Cum, baby,” he murmurs, eyes focused intently. “Show everyone. Show me.”
He watches as you tilt the toy, aiming at the upper wall of your ass, it pushes your juices out of your cunt, your soft, pink walls clenching desperately around nothing. His chest fills with an empty, anxious feeling as your actions turn sloppy and he’s reminded why you’re in the top whatever percent on the site because your desperation is suddenly so overwhelming that Tendo can’t believe you aren’t in the room with him. That he can’t touch you. Because he feels so fucking close.
His eyes fall closed as he finally cums, bliss flooding his body as he moans in pleasure.
Hearing you cry, his eyes fly open, the need to watch you cum so desperate that it burns his chest and stomach, his spent cock aching in his fist. You spit the vibrator out, the half-second of nearly your full face etching into his brain- absolutely ruining him.
It’s all he can see even as you fuck yourself through your orgasm, moaning and crying fractured in pleasure. It takes a few seconds longer than normal for you to recover, burrowing your face in the seat and leaving the toy in your ass in such a lewd display that Tendo finds himself gripping his cock for more. Eventually, you pull yourself together, your free hand finding the vibrator as you push the dildo out.
You moan as it falls out, hole gaping in its empty state and clenching weakly as you rub the vibrator around your folds. 
It's exactly what he wanted. Tendo sends the last bit of money without comment.
“That was so good,” you say, voice soft and sated. “I love being able to fuck my ass until I have a pretty fucked up orgasm.”
You sit up, breasts still hanging over the cups of your bra as you flash a sweet smile and you open your legs, feet flat on the floor. As you continue to rub the vibrator along your swollen, sensitive pussy, you reply to some messages, free hand playing with your tits. Tendo watches as you laugh and play coy despite being totally bared to them.
He knows he needs to get back to work. That you won’t really be doing anything else sexual- the problem is that he finds everything about you perfectly fascinating. He wants to hear whatever silly things you’re going to say. Hell, you could log in to read from an economics text book and he’d hang on every word. So, he can’t hang up. He can’t leave until you do and he’s perfectly fine with it. 
“Do I have a favorite follower?” You ask, the smile on your face turning bratty as you wrinkle your nose and say, “Well, it isn’t you,” before sticking your tongue out.
“How many times do I have to say I only swallow if I love you for you all to get it through your thick skulls? Not that it matters. I’m not fucking any of you losers, anyway.
“How much for...you guys are so annoying sometimes. Check my Twitter for prices. You can’t miss it.
“No, I’m absolutely not meeting anyone from here- well, yeah, maybe for a million dollars,” you roll your eyes, body gently trembling as you push the vibrator back inside you. You start to rub and pinch your nipples, pulling them away from your chest. “I should meet people? I think half of you log in from psych wards-” Tendo laughs as he lazily reaches to unlock his work computer “-the girlfriend experience? What is this, that weird show on E! or something?
“Uh, Q&A? I’m not that interesting.”
He knows that to be a lie. 
“What would you even want to know, anyway? Just a warm place to stick your cock. Sometimes. If I’m feeling sweet.
“Other times? Are you new? Other times I remind you worms how useless you are for stupid amounts of money. 
“How stupid? One of you just bought me a new Audi- Ha, no. He knows he most certainly isn’t my favorite. And yes, I do have a few favs…No, they have nothing to do with money.
“What do they...dunno. I guess they’re people I would fuck if I met them under any other circumstance.
“Do they know? I guess, if they can read the signs. I certainly haven’t told anyone…I actually exclusively fuck women, so, unless you’ve got a vag or a cock exactly like one of my toys,” you shrug and Tendo about dies. “Chances are less than slim to none.”
He can’t tell if you’re joking or not.
You laugh, squeezing your tits as you shift around needily. “Now that would be something! Cin-dick-ella. Trying to find who fits the mold.”
“Holy shit,” he breathes. Are you...are you saying he has a chance?
His chest goes tight with something starved and disgusting.
“The weather in California?” Your smile is a secret he wants to know. “It’s always sunny in California, silly.
“Anyway- Gotta go. I have a PB&J with my name on it.” You grin, and Tendo knows you’re staring dead at the camera even if he can’t see you. “And stuff to do before bed- Yes, I do actually eat one after every live. They’re the perfect snack. I make it and put it in the fridge beforehand,” you laugh, sitting up and leaning closer to the camera.
“See you guys,” you blow a kiss before leaving.
Tendo stares blankly, wondering who your favorites are and if you offered them nights like this one. He figures he has to be one of them...right? Before he even realizes what he’s doing, he’s opening his messages.
(TenSa) can i see you
(TenSa) just to talk
(Honey) Sorry, Tenny. I actually have something to do
He watches as you type for a long time.
(Honey) tmro tho? Same time? It’s lunchtime in Tokyo, yeah? We could eat together.
He stares at the screen. You’ve only suggested eating together once, months ago, and he’d been way too nervous to turn the camera on, even after you told him to just angle it so you could see what he was eating. He’d worried that you wouldn’t like him anymore, but that doesn’t really matter does it? Not if he’s paying. Not if...he’s a favorite.
The sheer thought leaves him aching in places he knows he shouldn’t feel anything. Especially not for his relationship with you.
Tendo groans, deciding that it would be beneficial to feel some level of shame or embarrassment. For it to consume him so wholly that he deletes his accounts and asks his mom to find him a nice girl to marry. But, it doesn’t and he doesn’t really want it to, anyway.
(TenSa) how much
(Honey) Oh burn, Ten. You think I only want you for money?
(Honey) Srsly tho - nothing. We’re literally just going to eat. Be a pal
(Honey) No pressure. I’ll be on google at 9PM PDT. I’m eating either way
(Honey) Enjoy your afternoon my little monster
rewritten/reposted from my old account / DO NOT COPY, REPOST, OR TRANSLATE.
MLIST 》 NEXT
237 notes · View notes
chaoticevilorange · 2 years
Note
Have you done a how they react to u watching their games?! If not could you do Atsumu, Bokuto, nishinoya, tendou and whoever else you feel like putting in/taking out?!?!? Thank you!!!!
Hoho~~~ I had a few ideas weeks ago, but since I've read some fics about it I discarded the idea and didn't put much of a thought since then, but it's a request I can write your faves honey!
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Haikyuu x reader
Support
You both being students don't make it easy, your schedule or his always bumped into each other when it's about his games or your own club activities, so when you finally got a spare day you decide to go and support your beloved boyfriend!
Miya Atsumu
He was really focused during the warm up, he thought it was just another game, he was focusing hard, that until he served, everyone was quiet and he heard your voice "don't mess it up Tsumu!" his eyes lit up immediately, his grin grew wider when he heard the whistle and strikes the ball with force enough to land a solid hit in the line. He's pleased, he's happy and yet he will have to punish you for distracting him during his game, don't you know you should be quiet when he's showing off? He will teach you.
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Bokuto Kōtaro
He gets moody sometimes because he knows you're busy and Akaashi knows how to cheer him up most of the time, but sometimes he really wish you were there and it's showing, so when Akaashi pointed out he didn't knew you were coming Bokuto's head instantly snapped to every direction until he spotted you. Oversized puppy waves his arms at you and jumps like crazy until gets scolded by his trainer, he'll show off twice as much, and wink at you between spikes with a goody grin.
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Nishinoya Yū
Before he asked you out he would get gloomy or even envious of the other teams, sometimes they had pretty girls or even cheerleaders to praise them, but now he got you, and he can't help but crave to see you cheering for him some day. He was warming up when he heard his name from the court, looking at the direction there was Saeko and you, his teammates could watch their libero flames of the now unstoppable guardian, he's pumped! Now he will make sure to not disappoint and do his best!
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Satori Tendō
Most of the times he looks like he doesn't mind you don't show up, he knows you've been busy but is his last year playing, when he heard the crowd cheering for Ushijima wasn't anything new, but then his ears picked his pet name with the unmistakable sound of your voice "Don't let them score Ten-Ten!" Semi could feel a shiver crawl all the way down his spine with the middle blocker smirk, yes, he was scary most of the time, but now his blocks are nastier than other games, the trainer wants you to go to every single game from now on.
Thanks for reading 🐨✨💖
217 notes · View notes
theiauwu · 2 years
Note
Hi!!!
Can I request a one-shot romantic relationship tendou x Fem! Reader (fluff) where reader is karasuno manager and when hinata and kageyama said they will beat shiratorizawa, reader was there (to keep them in line lol) and that's where reader and tendou meet, fast forward~ tendou amd reader meet again at the competition ^^ and he asked her out (or vice versa) idk it's up to you how you want to end it! I hope this is not too much ><
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A/N: Of course you can! Apologies for the hiatus but I am back to fulfilling my requests now!
Really sorry for the long wait but here ya go!!!
Pairing: Tendou Satori x Fem! reader
Word Count: 1021
Genre: one shot, fluff
Warning: none
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“Hinata you can’t-Guys?!”
Y/N sighs as the two first years run away after their declaration of beating Shiratorizawa, leaving her to deal with the consequences of their declaration to the infamous Ushiwaka.
They were going to get it later but for now.
She turns back to face the captain who was grinning menacingly after the shrinking figures of the first years.
Well that’s not intimidating at all.
Just as she was about to open her mouth, an attractive redhead peaked from inside the gymnasium.
“Yooooo Ushiwakaaaaa what’s taking so lon- Oh? Hello there pretty lady.”
“Hello yourself cutie.”
Karasuno’s manager flashes him a small smile, responding to his flirtatious greeting with her own without an ounce of hesitance.
Her unexpected response left him wide eyed and a blushing mess.
As he was gathering the courage to ask for her name and maybe her number, she took a glance at her watch, mumbled a quick apology to Ushijima before running off leaving the redhead slightly depressed.
“Heyyy Ushiwaka who was that?”
Tendou looked at his friend, hopeful that he would know something.
“Don’t know.”
Sigh.
Well that was useless.
But the spiker spoke up once again.
“She seemed like she was part of the volleyball team from Karasuno, probably their manager.”
The middle blocker perked up at that, maybe there was hope after all. Hopefully he'll see her in the upcoming tournament.
Humming to himself, he returns back into the gym for another torturous practice session.
“No you don’t understandddddd, Kiyoko! He was so my type! I should’ve at least asked for him name or something….”
Later that day, the girl groaned to her friend while they cleaned up after volleyball practice.
“Well, maybe you’ll see him again at the tournament? He’s from the Shiratorizawa volleyball team, right? They’re definitely going to be at the finals so you might be able to meet him at the Spring Tournament.”
Her eyes lit up at the revelation. She couldn't believe she hadn't thought about that.
“Gasp! You’re right! Have I ever told you that I love you?”
She throws her arms around her close friend, already feeling more cheerful than before.
“Sigh…Yes you have and you’re welcome.”
With a small smile, Kiyoko returns the hug. There were times where her friend gets a little too physical and emotional for her liking but through time she began to cherish and appreciate moments like these.
Tanaka and Nishinoya crying in the distance at the scene.
“KIYOK-“
“SHUT UP AND GET BACK TO CLEANING!”
-Fast forward to a few weeks later-
“I’m telling you Kiyoko, these boys are driving me insane, how do you manage all this time without me-“
“Pretty lady!!”
A semi familiar voice cut Y/N off of her sentence, she couldn’t put a finger on who it was but she knew that she had heard it before.
Looking around, she soon spots a redhead and immediately recognised him from their short interaction from a few weeks back at a rival school, Shiratorizawa.
“Cutie! Long time no see!”
She greets back, just as enthusiastically.
The second manager shots a look to her friend and glances between her and the newcomer, as if piecing a puzzle together.
An imaginary light bulb lighted up on top of her head and Kiyoko gave her friend a nudge, finally realising that this had been the man she had been sulking about the last few weeks after forgetting to ask for his contact details.
“Y/N! Isn’t he the gu-“
The manager quickly silences her friend with a slap to the mouth before she could finish her sentence but it was taken late judging from the sly grin emerging on the middle blocker’s face.
With a wink, the raven haired beauty walked off, most likely to re-join the rest of the team, leaving her friend alone with the rival school’s middle blocker.
“So….You talk about me?”
“…Maybeee?”
Dragging out the word, she tried to look anywhere but him but it was inevitable as she eventually looked back to see him still grinning at her.
Delighted to know that she had been thinking about him too.
“Ya know? You ran off so fast I didn’t even got to know your name. Or your number…”
He shyly mumbles the last part.
“Well, since we’re here now…Aren’t ya gonna ask?”
She asks while leaning on one hip, raising her brow, feigning impatience.
“Hey! You gotta gimme some time to muster up some courage first..”
She jokingly rolls her eyes and motions for him to continue to which he gives her a mocking bow in return, making her giggle at the sarcastic gesture.
Clearing his throat, he finally asked the million dollar question while holding out his phone.
“I’m Tendou Satori! And I would be honoured if you could give me your name and number!”
“Finally! You know how to keep a girl waiting don’t you? Well, I’m Y/N. Nice to meet ya!”
She takes the phone in her hand and begins to key in her number, before sending a message with the same phone so she’ll have his number as well.
Bing!
A notification from her phone alerting her of the new mail that she has just received.
The two looked at each other grinning and just as Tendou was about to ask her out, her ringtone rang.
Y/N picked up the call and talked to the caller for a moment before sighing, ending the call.
“Sorry Cherry, I gotta go..Duty calls!”
With all the confidence she could muster, she approached him and stood on her tippy toes, giving the redhead a peck on the cheek.
“Good luck!”
And with that, she runs away. Leaving the stunned middle blocker standing in the hallway by himself, his face becoming as red as his hair.
Then, he was struck by a sudden realization. He grabbed his head with both hands and exclaimed to himself.
“I forgot to ask her out! Again!?”
As he was about to chase after her, his phone alerted him of a new message. Opening his phone he sees that he has received a text from ‘Pretty Lady’.
‘Wanna go on a date to a café this weekend? I’m craving for chocolates :3’
His expression immediately brightened up and he quickly entered his response, hitting send.
‘You bet your sweets I do :D’
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jotatetsuken · 2 years
Note
HIHI SHYNA!! congrats on 100 followers, your milestone event is one of the most creative and cutest that i’ve seen!! <3
may i join? my pronouns are they/she (but i’m also fine with she/her when writing and reading!), ENFP, dessert, rosemary, and special ingredient is… drum roll please… satori tendou!! (so on brand of me HAHA)
thank you so much and i can’t wait to see what you create! congrats once again :)
HIIII DICE :D thank you so so much for being the first person to send me a request, and I hope you enjoy the meal. I'm so so sorry for the delay, but,here's the Satori drabble for you <3 also, imyyyyyy 🥺
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To The Red-Haired Man that I Eventually Loved
features: satori tendou x reader
final dish for: @sweetsbysatori
type of writing: drabble
trope: fake relationship, college au
warnings: starts angsty 'cause reader's crush is dating someone, overall fluffy as heck
song: about love - marina
number of words: 992
beta reading: @saltyvanilla (ilysvm thank you for everything ♥️)
tagging: @mrskenmakozume @hyeque @akaashi-todorki @kiiraes @miikoos @ohtobiors @oyasumiares @tiddieluvr @sabyss @cirigiri @beware-of-the-rogue @cuz-like-why-not @haikyutiehoe @oikawas-milk-bread @solamoure @lunaevangeline (taglist form)
prompt: “I may or may not be secretly leaving teddy bears outside your house so I can see your delighted face in the mornings.” - @sleepyprompts
a/n: so I definitely thought of "To All the Boys I've Loved Before" for this one hahaha. Although, Satori would be a better Peter Kavinsky imo :D Hope y'all enjoy this <3 Likes, comments, and reblogs, especially reblogs are appreciated. ^_^
Made with Love: 100 Followers Event (closed)
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“Satori,” she cries out as she begins melting chocolate on the stove. “Yes, dearie,” her red-haired companion approaches her, grabbing the spatula from her hands as she yells, “Hey,” as he swats her hands away, tossing them aside. “Oh, thank heavens you didn't burn the chocolate,” he exaggerated, causing her to roll her eyes. She hugged him from the back and asked, “Satori, remember how we got together?” He laughed, saying, “of course I do, darling. It happened when…
A year ago, in their last year at Shiratorizawa University, (Y/N) noticed that her crush, Eita Semi, was dating her nemesis, prompting wrath to flood through her veins, especially anytime they were in public. This was something her best friend, Satori Tendou, couldn't help but notice. So he summons her to a park, where he sits on a bench and enunciates, “listen, (Y/N), until you attract Eita's attention in some way, he'd unfortunately not glance at you,” causing her to nod in agreement as she looks down on the grass until an idea strikes her. “How about we fake date?” she asks, looking up. Satori glances at her with a strange expression, considering for a while before the identical thought process occurs to him. “That's terrific; we can start acting like a couple and annoy Semi-Semi!” Both of them grinned at each other.
The next day, she walked with Satori, arm in arm to the classroom, causing the ashen-haired boy to look in shock, and Ushijima to narrow his eyes at them. Semi then asks him, "Satori, when did this happen? Why did you not tell me about her?" As they sat in their seats, still holding hands, she sighs and states, "Eita, it just happened all of a sudden, y'know?" shrugging her shoulders.Eita was very perplexed by what he saw and started fiddling with his fingers.
Satori and she had since been the talk of the town. They traveled to university together, ate lunch together frequently, and went on double dates with people. She even went to volleyball games when Eita, Satori, and Wakatoshi would play together, and she watched Eita staring at Satori and her interactions throughout, distracting him from his game. Satori and she ended up bonding over many things, including their favorite movies, meals, and chocolate, and they were even candid about their damaged pasts.
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Before going for classes one day, she opened her door to find an (f/c) teddy bear on her front porch, with a note saying, "thinking of you." She smiled to herself while she waited for Satori. "Hello, honey," he gushes as he moves up to her, his eyes widening when he notices the teddy bear. "Oooh, who's the special someone who gave it to you?" he asks with a smirk, poking at her shoulders. As she sits in the car, she blushes and answers, "I'm not sure who sent it, but it made my day." Satori then looked at her with adoring eyes, fully mesmerized by her grin as he drove her. Days went by, and she received more teddy bears on her front porch, and whenever Satori and she were in the cafeteria, Semi always tried approaching her, but to no avail, as his girlfriend would take him away. 
However, one day, it was raining, and as she frantically opened the door, she saw the teddy bear holding a small umbrella, bringing a chuckle to her face, but the smile wore off as the note said, “I’m not who you think I am.” She became curious over time as to who sent it, and her first guess being Eita, caused her to walk to him during lunch. “Eita,” she calls out to him as he’s ending, and he flinches in shock as he turns to her and stands up, “(Y/N), I need to talk to you.” She narrowed her eyes, replying, “funny, I needed to talk to you too. Can we go to the park?” He nodded and answered, “Sure.”
Eita and (Y/N) strolled through the park down a pebble path to a nearby bench to avoid walking on the wet grass when the rain had ceased. “Why don't you go first?” she suggested as they seated. The setter then takes her hands in his and says, “I'd be lying if I said I didn't have feelings for you, but I do. I'm sorry I dated another lady, but I wanted us to find a way to talk about us, and I thought-”
“Are you the one who has been dropping teddy bears on my porch?” she interrupted, taking her hands off Semi's grip. “No, no, I didn't, but-” he says, furrowing his brows. She then placed her hand forward to calm him, halted, and began to wonder who it could be, when she heard a familiar voice from a distance say, “I may or may not be secretly leaving teddy bears outside your house so I can see your delighted face in the mornings.”
The instant she turned around and saw Satori approach her, she had a rude awakening. Their bond felt more real than her crush on Semi over the preceding few months of phoney courting. As a result, she dashed to Satori and enveloped herself in his arms. As he clutched her, his fingers finding their way into the cracks of her locks, she confessed, her words muffled, “I need you to know, Satori Tendou, that I like you, and not in a fake way.” He chuckled, cradled her face, and pressed his lips against hers, eventually melting into each other.
Months later, in the kitchen in Paris, she hugged him tighter and said, “Thank you, for loving me, in every way possible.” He tilted his head so as to perch it on her, chuckling, “You know? We should thank Semi-Semi for bringing us together.” You chuckled but laughed along as well. Despite his remarks, she would never trade him for the world.
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© Shyna 2022
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soranihimawari · 2 years
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Spiral
A timeskip!Satori Tendou x flatmate!reader short
Pairing: timeskip!satori x flatemate!reader
Warnings: fluff & slice of life // suggestive
Word count: ~1.8k
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How I pictured Satori
Who thought answering a personal ad in Paris was going to lead to one of the longest relationships in your life? Certainly not Satori Tendou, who at the time was starting his apprenticeship at the local chocolatier and ganachery. Hard to believe three years since you received a call back from a foreign number had passed, but let’s be real. Life was not the most fair when it came to you. After all, you had been gifted a unisex name, so imagine the guess monster’s face when a gothic chic androgynous person with a few hatboxes showed up at his door. You apologize together to the other laughing a bit saying things will work out. Yet, there was also one other major issue: language. You honestly presumed his French was rough, judging by the back and forth text messages, because they all sounded similar to a google translate text block. Regardless the chocolatier and the goth make it work.
Truthfully, living with Satori has been one of the best experiences of your joint young adult life. You’ve been prompted to official taste tester for him alongside him being a subject for your photography book. Always trying to respect each other spaces was a primary thing to figure out, so together you tackle a schedule to use the common spaces: bathroom, laundry, kitchen, etc. Since then, English basic alongside various Japanese to French dictionaries have joined the bookshelves you helped build with Satori.
Three years later, you’re sifting flour and scattering it on the marble table in the kitchen. As a treat, you decide to make your grandmother’s recipe for buttered bread. Rolling out the dough you refrigerated after it rose, you also take out the homemade butter brick you’re used to seeing folded into the center of the bread dough. For a person who usually wears all black, you’re skilled enough to not get a speck on your clothes is impressive. Eyeing the calendar, you circled the date in Satori’s favorite color. Eventually, once the bread had been placed in the oven, you sit on the couch while the timer on your phone is turned on.
Hours later, with the bread cooled on the counter, beside it a small envelope (filled with cupcake glitter) and with a very rigid hiragana script, your flatmate’s name is written there. Yet, who would have thought you’d be asleep when Satori arrived home? Certainly not the birthday celebrant. Satori comes home to find you curled up on the couch, steady deep breaths heard when he found the corner (a sure sign you were knocked out), in something other than the signature black you’ve been known to wear: you were wearing an updated lilac cocktail dress (inspired from the 1950s) complete with bunny slippers. It was enough for the chocolatier to smile more to himself than anything. Also, does it help he had a heart to heart talk with his best friend who actually gave him some sage advice? Yes, because as it stands his heart patters nervously in his chest. The rhythm tells him what’s been weighing in his mind—he likes you, a little more than you’ve been lead to believe. Now will he act on it and will you not push him away? Time will tell because as it stands, you stir as he joins you on the couch, but rather than waking next to cushions, you wake feeling a chef coat button.
“Evening sleeping beauty,” Satori greets.
He has a catlike expression and you roll your eyes at the nickname, but it’s ok. Because you expect it from him. There have been too many times when you’ve been out together and the general consensus are either you two are together (or there was something no one would be surprised if you’re fixing to get to that point). Yet when you readjust yourself, turning into him, breathing in the hints of chocolate and confectionery sugars, your eyes flutter open.
“Tori?” your groggy voice greets. You rub the heels of your palm against your eyes trying to rid the corners of the slumber man’s dust.
There is a delightful hum you hear, thus waking you fully. Needless to say, waking up and trying to squirm was not the best idea, not when your flatmate can hold you so securely by the waist. Next thing you know, you’re no longer resting on his shoulder, no, you’re brought to sit atop his lap, much like cradling a young child. You realize you’re pinned, straddling him as you feel him flex beneath you; years of lifting the delivery of flour and ample time dedicated to kneading had coerced old athletic muscles into a refined one for a chocolatier. Tendou keeps a hand above the zipper of your dress and the other traces lines from your knees to your ankle and back again. The smoothness makes you seem like a marionette, the best one he’s ever seen—he doesn’t want to play with you like the way you described old flames before; he wants something a bit more dare he think it: sweet.
“Lilac, really?” Satori has a look in his eye.
You feel his hand pinch the satin fabric of the sleeve of the dress, a smirk resting on his features. He notices how flushed you’re becoming because of the proximity your faces are, but it doesn’t bother him. Never had, never will, he thought.
“You said it reminded you of home,” you say with a pout. “Something about school pride?”
Satori hugs you closer, muttering nervously, “liking you is going to kill me.”
“It won’t,” you reply just as quick, tilting your head to read his expression.
It’s filled with a hearth fired neutrality you didn’t think he possessed, but of all things, you can tell how much he cares when he does not push you away, yet his hands freeze their ministrations. There is a quiet pause when you find yourself staring at him, not like a subject for your work photographing life in the city, no. It was more like a more ‘adult-like’ love, ie the type that both would want to work out in the long run. In those seconds, with his confession slightly forgotten, you sit back a bit, choosing your next words carefully. Suddenly, the atmosphere where you both were changed into one charged with a mutual desire (three years worth of closeness, friendship, might have naturally progressed to this, according to a friend of yours)—with hope on your fingertips, you grip the collar of his coat and pull him down toward you before you feel his smile against your lips. “Sois courageux petit prince.”
A ghost of a kiss stays between you both. Like testing the waters of the sea, both of you are still a bit stunned. You would think three years of living with the other would have made this sort of move eons ago. However, with life and work in the way, it often gets pushed asunder. Tonight though, with the new day just minutes away, you readjust your self in a more comfortable position. Platonic or not, that gray area needed to be tested and by the gods did he pass it with you. One kiss turned into two, then when your limbs chose to rest against his shoulders, you rest your head against a wiser outsider.
“Bien devant toi chérie,” his hands leave your waist to travel to hold your face gently in his palms before slowly closing the space between you.
This kiss is just as gentle as you could imagine, perhaps even better because two people who are so sure of themselves (and comfortable in their own skin), prove how fearless they can when their souls seemed to spiral outward into a deeper understanding of a love well earned. Essentially, his kisses leave you wanting to carry on, still calculated and careful, ever since you walked through the front door something told Satori he wanted you to stay. You’re so grateful you did because right now, you’re thoroughly enjoying this nonverbal exchange.
“Stay,” you murmur drowsily hypnotized by the ministrations he uses when you require more air in your lungs. He nods, almost bumping heads with you. You lean back a bit and though he supports you, you laugh slightly at his reaction to instinctively catch you.
“Help me out of this,” he instructs hotly tacking on a “please” when your hands unbutton the first three buttons on his coat. You peck his lips as you do so until the end of the coat and he wiggles free from its confines. Satori may not have had many dates but past, but he follows your lead when you choose to lay back down on the couch and he hovers above you for a mere second before he rightfully kisses you the way he’s been meaning to. A confession isn’t really necessary, although when the sunlight seeps through the curtains the following morning, you’re no longer wearing the lilac number from the night before—you’re wearing a partially buttoned ganchery coat with the embroidered kanji of Satori Tendou’s name.
French translations:
Sois courageux petit prince—Be brave little prince
Bien devant toi chérie—way ahead of you sweetheart
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tojiphile · 7 months
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when your teacher assigned him to be your tutor, you’re sure he didn’t expect it to end up like this. it’s 5:46pm on a school night and instead of studying, your panties are bunched around your ankles, your cropped skirt flipped up and your blouse unbuttoned obscenely. your sports bra barely keeps your tits in place as your alleged ‘tutor’ bends you over your desk, fucking you silly.
“well, what’s the answer?” he asks, one hand on your waist and the other rubbing small circles around your swollen clit. “i- ‘s too much!” you cry, trying to squirm out of his grip. he traps you in place firmly, slipping his cock in and out of your cunt slowly, causing you to tremble with desire.
“please…” you beg, hot tears spilling down your face, “i- i can’t do this anymore!” you’ve been in this position for an hour; your clit overstimulated and your pussy desperate for more. he’s brought you so close so many times but never once did he let you cum. “why should i?” he scoffs, “stupid girls don’t deserve nice things.”
“if you answer correctly, i’ll fuck you properly. how’s that sound?” he baits you, hook, line and sinker. he asks the question again and you strain your brain to find the correct answer, trying your best to resist his delicate touch.
inevitably, you never get the answer right. that’s okay though, because at the end of every class, your tutor always says, if you can’t be smart, you could always be his little trophy wife. still, stupid girls don’t deserve to cum, so he focuses himself on relieving his own stress, pounding into you like a dog in heat, bullying your cunt and stuffing it full with his cock.
you still feel good though, because at least you’re useful for something! <3
TSUKISHIMA KEI, GETO SUGURU, nanami kento, tendou satoori, sugawara koishi, TETSURO KUROO, takahiro hanamaki, ryomen sukuna, ooc!saiki kusuo, kamisato ayato, KAEYA ALBERICH
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gxdcomplxx · 1 year
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M A S T E R L I S T
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x!! U. WAKATOSHI
the ideal. mafia au
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I II
the mountain. a/b/o
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I
poms & aces. fluff
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I
x!! S. TENDO
blood bank. vampire au
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I
x!! K. TOBIO
the lie. fake relationship
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I
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sassycheesecake · 3 months
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- ATSUMU MIYA, TŌRU OIKAWA, KŌTARŌ BOKUTO, Shōyō Hinata, Tobio Kageyama, LEV HAIBA, Satori Tendō, SHŪGO MEIAN, KIYOOMI SAKUSA
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t4kio · 4 months
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SATORU GOJO. SUGURU GETO. choso kamo. EREN JAEGER. ARMIN ARLERT. hange zoe. BOKUTO KOTARO. kuroo tetsuro. oikawa toru. tendou satori. atsumu miya. RINDOU HAITANI. SHINICHIRO SANO.
• ⟡ : 𝓳uni’s 𝓳ar. ok i might make these a nightly thing only cus i think they’re so funny, ++ i love seeing you guys’ rbs with others who you think fit this dynamic. (´ ω `♡)
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