#it’s been so long since I posted foot teases

[carolmunson]

let's go, don't wait (e.m. x f!reader)

inspired by this prompt by @edsforehead - it's not exactly the same but i did my best! summary: modern!eddie's been single since 2020 and aside from getting his dick wet after weekend shows at the hideout, he hasn't been going out of his way for love until his friends make him. cw: 18+ for adult themes. alcohol use, swearing, some sexual themes. some discussions of bad parents. eddie had some sad parts of his childhood. all around this is a fluff piece so nothing too bad. (11k) eddie is 32, reader is 30. so older!reader i guess, idk. i already started writing the part two which is almost entirely smut.

Jingle. Click. Creak. “Mmmm.” Eddie knows that groan anywhere, the deep primal urging of a one Gareth Emerson and the giggles of his girlfriend, Tatianna Edwards. They stumble into the apartment, lips attached, hands grabbing and fisting each other’s layers from the cold. 

“Hi guys,” he calls out, his tone was as bored and annoyed as he hoped it would be. His eyes don’t leave the TV, transfixed on the screen while he watches another YouTube compilation of the best guitar solos of all time. He disagrees with most of them, but it’s enough to drone on in the background while he scrolls through his Twitter feed. He’s never even posted. Not once. Not even a picture on his profile. 

“Hi Ed,” Tati chirps, clicking the side table lights on. He can smell her Chloe perfume when she comes to give him a hug hello. Her arms wrap around him from behind the couch, cheeks touching, a few of her butterfly twists falling forward over his shoulder. 

“Did you stay in tonight?” she asks, pressing a glossy smooch to his cheek. “Sure did,” he huffs, arms crossing over hers in a semblance of an embrace. Her gold bracelets are cool against his skin, her gold rings match his silver ones. He thought when Tati entered the picture that he and Gareth would’ve started to drift apart. Instead, Tati became Eddie’s new best friend – Gare really took ‘date the girl version of Eddie’ to heart. They were two peas in a pod. “You should’ve come out, there were a lot of single girls there – you’re a good dancer, you coulda snagged one,” she sounds like a mother trying to set him up. Eddie tilts his head up and looks at her from below, her deep skin shimmering with the glitter fallout from her eye makeup. She always looks pretty with ease, even with her makeup smudged – like she meant to do that. 

“Oh, I’m sure,” he smiles tightly, but the look falls to something soft when Tati lets go and her almond shaped manicured nails rake gently over his scalp through his conditioned curls.  “You can’t just keep picking up girls from shows, dude,” Gareth chides playfully, coming around the couch to sit next to him, “They’re starting to get waaaay too young for you at the bars.”

“Yeah, perv,” Tatianna teases, ruffling his hair before curling up on the recliner closer to the TV.

“Can we please not talk about this again,” Eddie sighs, sinking further into the cushions. He presses on his eyes with the heels of his hands, “You do this every time you guys come back from a date.”

“We gotta get you on Hinge, or something,” Gareth says.

“Tinder at the very least,” Tatianna follows.

“Okay, I’m going to bed,” Eddie grunts when he gets up, a little dizzy at the speed before he finds his footing, “Don’t be too loud tonight.”

“Just trying to help!” Tati calls out, “You deserve to be too loud at night, too!”

Eddie sucks his teeth before he turns the corner to the hallway, disappearing for the night while his friends fell more in love. 

It feels like they’re disassembling a bomb. Eddie sulks in a seat at the kitchen table while Robin, Steve, Nancy, and Gareth chatter behind him. Jeff and his wife sit across from him with just as much excitement as the group opposite them. Eddie frowns, bangs too long over his eyes, hands sweating onto the back of his banged up stickered phone case.

“I think you should put the picture of the guitar last, it doesn’t have your face in it. I’d swipe past you,” Robin points at the screen in front of him while he tries to make sense of his Hinge profile. 

“Well you’re a whole lesbian Rob, so you’d swipe past me anyway,” Eddie’s clipped words make the group laugh instead of making them back off. His shoulders sink immediately. This was mortifying.

“She’s right though,” Steve pipes up, “They’ll think you’re some weirdo who's obsessed with his guitar if you — well, actually then maybe it’s fine…” 

“Why don’t you—” Jeff starts.

“You’re married and you’ve been with Alycia since 2014. Your opinions are void,” Eddie interrupts with a sigh. 

Jeff lets out a laugh from his broad smile, “Look, I’m just saying. Why don’t you focus on your answers to the questions rather than the pictures? Girls love stuff like that. You’re smart, you’re a good writer.” 

“Babe, they’re not gonna care about his answers if the first picture they see is of an out of focus guitar taken on an iPhone 4S,” Alycia cocks her head at Jeff, “Like, at least be honest with him.” 

“I know you’re squinting in that picture from Jeff’s wedding but maybe you can put that one first,” Nancy points to the screen and then scrolls down a little. It lands on a photo of Jeff and Eddie, both sweating from the night's activities. His dress shirt is unbuttoned half way down his chest, silver chains and tattoos on full display, tie tied around Jeff’s forehead like a makeshift Rambo. 

“Yeah, you look really good in it,” Robin agrees. 

“Wait, wait, wait!” Tati shuffles into the kitchen, “I got in touch with the photographer from the show two weeks ago at Wraith Bar and he’s sending me some pictures.” 

“You can use the six pictures you’re tagged in from the last three years,” Tatianna scolds, “You look like a bum in them.” 

The group frowns and tosses glances at each other, it’s true. The more recent pictures they had of Eddie were far and few between. He was either blinking or off to the side, blurry or ducking out of frame. Every picture where he looks like himself was either from a show or had Chrissy in it, and he deleted all of those three years ago.

“Stop, you look so fine in these,” Tatianna squeals, “The girls are gonna love you.” Everyone but Eddie huddles around Tatianna to scroll through the pictures. Some of him mid shred with sweat pouring down his chest. Some of him screaming into the mic, hair wild and wet around his face. There was one, that he begrudgingly really liked, where his head leaned back into the light with a winning Munson smile. It was when he heard the opening drums to cover ‘The Immigrant Song’ as a gag – but not really a gag ‘cause he loves that song. It gets everyone at the bar pretty excited – even if they only know the song from School of Rock. 

Eventually, Eddie isn’t even holding his phone, it’s being passed between Tati, Steve, and Robin while he dictates his answers to stupid questions. By the time his profile is finished, his head is hidden in his mass of curls, resting his forehead on his forearms at the table. 

“Are we done now?” he asks into the space between his face and the woodgrain. Despite the winter air flowing through the kitchen window, he’s overheated with embarrassment. There are suddenly too many people around, too much talking, too much giggling at his expense. He tilts his head back up and takes a full breath through his nose and out through his mouth – “Oh shit! You matched with someone!” “How? I didn’t even look at anyone yet,” Eddie’s brows furrow while his head slowly comes to center. “Don’t worry about it, dingus,” Robin chides, “Just talk to her.” Eddie takes the phone and looks at her profile. Rachel, 27, Vet tech. She’s pretty, soft eyes, great smile. He swallows thickly before he goes to his ‘Matches’ and types three letters that felt like they took ten years to write: Hey.

The chats start fast and die faster, some flirty banter here and there before he’s too nervous or quickly bored. His heart squeezes every time he gets a notification, a buzz in his pocket, a reminder of a message. Some girls don’t want a relationship and that’s fine, that’s just not what he’s looking for. Some girls ask the big questions first and he can’t answer right away. Some girls just aren’t his type and he isn’t theirs either. 

The first date he goes on ends with her excusing herself to the bathroom before they even get to order dinner. She doesn’t come back — he’s not even sure what he did. It started off fine, she was pretty with blonde hair and blue eyes. Fun and easy conversation, a voice that sounded like powder puffs and sugar scented perfume. If he blurred his vision a little, she could’ve been Chris. But she wasn’t Chris. 

Maybe that’s why she left. Maybe she got the vibe that he was preoccupied with her looking like his ex. 

Maybe it was because he said, ‘You remind me so much of my ex-wife,’ before they got to order dinner. 

His second date wasn’t much better. He was proud of himself for not going for another Chrissy look alike, but it was clear that this new girl was on a hunt for a husband. 

“So are you planning on getting the tattoos removed?” she had asked, pursing her red lips. He was surprised at how well her lipstick stayed on after eating a pasta dish. Whenever he wears makeup for a show, it smudges before the lights come up. 

“Uh, no why?” he asked.

“Just y’know, thinking ahead — family photos and whatever,” she shrugged. His mouth had never run so dry in his life. The chicken alfredo turned in his stomach. 

The third ended up being a quickie in the bar bathroom only for her to leave right after and unmatch him without as much as a ‘Thanks for a good night!’ He at least wanted to be a gentleman about it. 

The fourth fizzled out and neither of them felt the connection. 

The fifth felt weird because they had talked so much on the app that they didn’t have anything left to talk about when they went out for drinks. 

A month had gone by and all he had to show for it was five bad dates and dozens of unanswered chats. Eddie was found sitting in his bed in the dark, only the light on his phone keeping him illuminated while he thumbs through Instagram. Another app that he has for no reason, he never posts, he never shares anything. He just scrolls.

He wonders if Chrissy’s on Hinge. Eddie’s stomach lurches at the thought of coming across her profile. All blonde and blue eyes, all sweet and spunky, all the right answers to her curated questions. Photos of her in the Maldives, in her friend’s weddings, of her in Chicago after she moved. His heart hammers, sweat collects on his bare chest, heating up the chain lying flat against it until it sticks. He quickly swipes out of Instagram to his home screen, a photo of Robin and Steve flipping him off from the stage after a Corroded Show during load out. He holds his thumb on the app until all the apps shake, thumb hovering over the ‘x’ on the corner to delete the Hinge for good. 

What’s another three years of being single? 

“Ed?” he hears Tati on the other side of the door, her soft knock following her voice, “I got Indian and I’m not gonna eat it all. Gare doesn’t want it, you want it?” 

“Yeah, sure,” he hums. She opens the door and sighs at the darkness. He squints as the light pools in from the hallway and sees her lean her shoulder against the door frame.

“Are you in here sulking?” she asks, one brow raising.

“Yeah, Tat, I’m in here sulking,” he groans, laying flat on his mattress, “I like to sulk. Let me sulk.” 

“Don’t sulk,” she puts on a pout and flicks his light on, leaving the containers of rice and chicken saag. He groans when the light stings his eyes, tossing a forearm over his face. 

“What’s wrong?” she asks, her voice falling into kindergarten teacher territory. She never realized her profession would come so handy living with two grown men, “Why’re you being such a baby in here?” 

“I think I’m gonna delete the app,” he murmurs, still hiding under the protection of his tattooed arm. The pressure feels good on his face, releasing the tension starting to brew behind his eyes. He hadn’t eaten since his lunch period at work, the hunger was starting to catch up to him. 

“Don’t delete it,” she shakes her head, crawling onto the end of his bed. She takes her twists out of her jumbo claw clip and readjusts to pull them all back away from her face. Tati eases his phone out of his hand and slides her glasses on, flinging his dead arm off his face to use his Face ID. He whines, face scrunching is disapproval.

“I told you to stop doing that,” Eddie complains, sitting up against his pillows before crawling out of bed to get the food waiting on his dresser, “Do you have any naan or…?” 

“Do I look like a food bank, Munson? Damn,” she tilts her head and he raises his brows in a silent ‘Well, do you?’

She sighs deeply, “Yes, I have extra naan but you can only have it if you don’t delete the app and eat with us in the living room.” 

“Those are two totally different asks, Tati,” Eddie huffs. 

“I don’t make the rules,” she shrugs before starting to laugh, “Actually, I totally do.” 

The phone buzzes in her hand and Tatianna’s grin only widens when she sees the notification, “You have a new like.” 

“Whatever,” he shrugs, face laced with disappointment and frustration, “It’s gonna be another dud. Why bother if there’s no point? Like, this can’t actually be how people meet each other —“ 

Tatianna opens her mouth to protest but Eddie interrupts his own thought before she can speak, “You and Gareth are the anomaly.” 

“What if the sixth time’s a charm? She looks really cute,” She smiles, teeth bright against her smile, cheekbones glistening where her moisturized skin hits the light. 

He rolls his neck and sighs while Tatianna continues to encourage him, “Just try. You owe yourself that. Chrissy wouldn’t—.”

“Fuck Chrissy, Tat,” Eddie’s voice raises slightly, suddenly defensive. His chest burns at the sound of her name, heat rising up through his neck to his face,  “I don’t really give a fuck what Chrissy would and wouldn’t want. ‘Cause if it wasn’t for her, I wouldn’t have to be on these stupid fucking apps.” 

“Whew, tell me how you really feel Ed,” she says while she stands up off the bed to walk towards him.

“Look, I get you’re still mad about how things went down with Chris. I know you’re still hurting, but you’re denying yourself a chance to start over — just shoot this girl a message. She seems cool,” Tati speaks so gently to him that he soothes instantly. She offers his phone, still open on the new profile — he’s hesitant at first but he takes it from her to look at the screen. 

There you are. You are cute. Your profile is simple: your name, age thirty, your opening tagline ‘idk i’m just out here i guess’. He lets a puff of air out of his nose at the sentiment — ‘Same,’ he thinks. 

“Fine,” he says finally, “I’ll look through her stuff and I’ll message her. Are you happy?” 

“Thrilled,” she smiles, “So thrilled that I’ll even let you have the extra samosa.” 

He follows her out of the room with his phone and food in hand, looking at her fondly when she passes him a tinfoil covered piece of naan in the kitchen, “You’re my best fucking friend, dude.” 

“I thought I was your best friend?” Gareth pouts from the kitchen table, D&D notes littered in front of him. 

Eddie scrunches his nose, tilting his head while he considers, “You’re alright I guess.” 

When the food is done and he’s gotten a proper look at your profile he decides to bite the bullet — fingers shaking while he matches back with you. He doesn’t start with ‘hey’ this time because Robin and Steve said that was boring, so he tries something new: 

wild that you’re just ‘out here’, me too. 

…

…

…

lol, twin behavior. how’s your night?

Eddie’s heart hammers at the response. He’s surprised at the reaction, he hadn’t had that with any of his other chats, normally expecting them to die off after the first ‘Hey, how are you?’ pleasantry. But maybe this could be different, maybe this could be fun. 

scored some indian food from one of my roommates so it’s one of my better nights. 

ooh, i’m so jealous. i have buyers remorse from some baked ziti i ordered. should’ve just made it.

what did you get?

chicken saag, still jealous?

i’m more of a saag paneer girl but consider me over here seething.

Eddie grins into the phone, cheeks hot while he thinks about what to say back. He skims over your profile again, eyes stilling at a photo of you laughing on what looks like a cruise deck. The sun hits you like a golden streak across your eyes. The caption reads ‘the last time i felt a single shred of genuine happiness’, he huffs an airy giggle before going back to the chat. 

you’re funny, did you know that?

um ya, i’m the funniest person i know, actually. 🥰

that's crazy cause i’m the funniest person i know. and since now i know you, it’s looking like we gotta battle for who the funniest is.

Jesus fucking Christ Munson, why can’t you just be normal? Why can you just say ‘lol’ and call it a night? He frets. His leg bounces while he waits for your reply, food rolling in his stomach. The cool metal of his rings is welcomed on his warm cheeks while he leans against his hand on the arm of the couch. The few minutes he waits for the buzz of his phone feel like eternities. But there you are to save him from his embarrassment:

lmao okay. where did you wanna battle?

there’s a bar in the city that i think could host. you around tomornight?

tommorow night* sorry, fuck, i was trying so hard to be smooth with it.

TOMORROW***** FUCK. LET ME LOG OFF FOR ETERNITY REAL QUICK.

yiiiiikes! embarrassing. but this proves you actually might be funnier than me. i’m not a sore loser so i’ll go on a date with you if that’s what you’re asking.

do you drink? it doesn’t have to be a bar.

i do! where did you have in mind?

there’s a spot called little spoon saloon in the city if you’re familiar. sorta cozy.

oh yeah sounds great for a battle 🙄

but yeah i know it, that’s not too far from my place. maybe we’ve seen each other before and never known it. two ships passing in the night~*

does seven work for you? i know it’s a monday, so we can do earlier if you gotta be up early or something.

sevens fine :)

okay :)

:)

:)

see ya tomorrow! Eddie bites his lower lip, breathing steadily through his nose while he sends over his number. Anything to get out of looking at the app for at least another day, anything to spare him from potentially running into Chrissy’s profile despite her being in a different state. It was getting close to the holidays, she could be around at any moment. 

Before he can spiral, his phone buzzes again – this time a text from an unknown number. His grin widens, too caught up in the excitement bubbling in his chest to feel Tatianna’s stare from the recliner. hi, it's me. jsyk if you don't reach out by like, two tomorrow -- i'm considering it a cancellation and i do have a 50% cancellation fee. sorry! 

50%? stop selling yourself so short, kid. but don’t worry, i won’t cancel. no? you’re not scared to battle? i’m never scared of a battle. :) (A lie.) see you tomorrow. 

“What’s got you smiling like that?” Tatianna smiles, cheeks tight from being unable to hide her excitement. “Are you talking to a girrrrrl?” Gareth teases. Eddie let’s out a ‘tssss’ while he stands up and stretches, quirking a brow at his best friend. “Is it a girl? You takin’ her out?” he asks again. “Yeah G, it’s your mom,” he shrugs, “Night y’all.” “Ed,” Tati whines, “Come on.” Pink floats across his cheeks, itching his nose to hide his goofy smile behind his hand. “Yeah, it’s a girl. And yeah, I’m taking her on a date tomorrow,” he groans. Tatianna squeals, shimmying with giddiness while the recliner rocks with her. Eddie’s too caught up in hiding his face, “Ugh, she’s cuuuute, Tati, what am I supposed to do?” 

“Show her what she’s been missing,” Tati shrugs, “Everyone needs an Eddie.” 

Last night, Eddie fell asleep caught in a memory that became a dream. He’s eight years old at the YMCA, Wayne sitting in the stands watching him – this is maybe two weeks after his dad dropped him off before he got sent to prison. Wayne wanted to make sure his schedule stayed the same as it could, so Saturday swim lessons it was – today was diving off the block. Eddie had been dreading this lesson for a month, knowing that level 2.5 meant you had to at least try. In level two, they had you stand on the block just to get used to it. He could barely breathe for the ten seconds it was up there, tears stinging his eyes while his teacher encouraged him to come closer to the edge. Three of his classmates had already asked if they were allowed to jump off. It looked fun but it was just so high up. What if it hurts? What if he landed the wrong way? He was up soon, standing behind the block with the rest of the kids, shivering from being out of the water. He could dive off the edge of the pool just fine – in fact, his teacher said he was a great diver, especially for an eight year old. So it should be no problem to dive off the block, he just had to do the same thing he always does. Just higher. 

Gareth, before Gareth was his best friend, climbs up the block and puts his feet at the edge of the white plastic and metal. His teacher, Miss Tiffany, tells him to put his arms up and bend his knees and to dive at the whistle. The whistle blows and Gareth leaps – but he doesn’t dive smoothly into the water. 

“BELLY FLOP!” Jason Carver yells from the edge of the pool where all the kids who already dove sat. They start teasing him relentlessly, Miss Tiffany helping him out of the water to inspect his red belly. Tears well up in Gareth’s eyes, his mom leaning over the bannister from the seating area. “Are you okay, baby?” she asks. Gareth burns red with embarrassment, only encouraging the cackling kids to get crueler. 

Miss Tiffany puffs her whistle three times, “If you tease again, you’re not allowed to go to free swim. Do you understand me?” 

The group quiets, slowly kicking their feet in the water. “Alright Eddie, you’re up next!” 

He gulps, climbing up on the block slowly before standing to full height with his eyes closed. He takes a deep breath through his nose and out through his mouth, like his Uncle Wayne taught him to do when he was feeling nervous. When Eddie’s eyes opened, a chill ran through his chest – for some reason the block seemed higher than ever. 

“Ready Freddie?” Miss Tiffany asked, treading water in her red bathing suit. She grinned up at him, knowing that the phrase always made him giggle – but not today. 

“Arms up, knees bent,” she continues. Ed looks down at the water and the room spins, he can hear Jason and the class giggling. Hear the splashes from the kicks of their feet. 

The whistle blows. He doesn’t move. The whistle blows, again. He puts his arms down. “You okay, Eddie? You can do it! You’re a great diver!” she cheers. 

Eddie chews on his lower lip, thinking about the smack of the water when it hit Gareth’s stomach. The laughter. The teasing. The potential of the pain. The whistle blows again. Eddie climbs down off the block, sniffling when he makes it back to the pool deck, “I don’t want to Miss Tiffany.”  

“C’mon Ed, I know you can do it! Do you want me to save you for last?” she asks, her smile still bright and encouraging. Eddie sniffles again, eyes burning with tears while Jason and his friends start to tease him, too. “Swimming sucks,” he bites, stomping towards the boys room, grabbing his ratty towel off one of the benches on the way in. He’s only in the locker room for a few minutes before he hears the door open and Wayne’s apologetic voice talking to Miss Tiffany from the deck floor.

“He’s just goin’ through a lot right now,” Wayne says, his gruff voice rattling off the metal of the room. 

“Eddie?” Tiffany’s voice calls. 

“Come out here, son,” Wayne calls, “Y’know, if your decent.”  

Eddie sniffles back his tears again, shuffling over to the door while Miss Tiffany waits with his Uncle.

“Do you maybe wanna stay a little late today and we can practice diving off the block when class is over?” she offers, “I know it can be scary to do it in front of your classmates, but I want you to pass to level three!” 

“No thanks Miss Tiffany,” he mumbles to the tiles on the floor. 

“That’s okay Eddie, maybe we can try again next week. How’s that sound? I know you can do it,” she says softly. 

“Okay,” he murmurs before turning on his heel and moping back into the locker room. Wayne was waiting by the check in desk when Eddie emerged after changing, his ratty towel slung off his shoulder. 

“You okay?” Wayne asked.

“Yeah, can we just go home?” 

“Sure kid, was gonna stop and get us some lunch if you wanted,” Wayne’s eyes crinkle with his smile, “Wanna go to McDonalds?” 

Eddie returns the smile half heartedly, “Yeah.”

They walk to Wayne’s pick-up hand in hand, despite some parents thinking he’s ‘too old’ to be doing that. He needed the support, and his uncle was never one to make him feel like he didn’t have it. 

“So d’you wanna try again next week? Your starting form was great, buddy,” Wayne asks while Eddie puts his seatbelt on. Eddie considers it. Getting to the edge of the block and making Jason Carver eat his own words. Making him look like a loser for a change. 

But the words ring in his ear ‘BELLY FLOP!’ The relentless teasing if he didn’t do it this week and then messed up next week. He’d be a baby and a joke. 

“I don’t wanna do swimming anymore, Uncle Wayne,” he huffs.

“You sure?” his uncle frowns, putting the car into gear, “You’re really good, Ed. Y’could be on the swim team.” 

“I don’t wanna come back. I quit,” he repeats. He crosses his arms while they pull out of the parking lot, watching the rest of the kids pool out of the doors with smiles on.

Eddie wakes up to his alarm blaring, back in his 32 year old body. He swears that the air of his bedroom smells like chlorine.

Eddie made sure to text you at 1:59 PM like an asshole. 

still on for tonight? :)

so close to having to pay my cancellation fee. 

but yes, still on for tonight :) 

sorry, work’s been wild today. would’ve texted you sooner!

you’re off the hook…

for now. 😡

He likes your little attitude, he decides. That little hint of sass in your messages keeps him on his toes and it’s not lost on him that this is probably how you flirt. He wonders, selfishly, how easy you are to fluster. You both exchange a few back and forths before he’s finishing up work for the day and heading to Wheeler’s for a campaign chat. 

The texts completely drop off while he gets ready to see you. He takes an extra long time in the shower, using the tiniest squeeze of Tati’s curl cream when he comes out because it makes his hair look good. He scrubs his face raw before shaving, following up with the skin care routine he kept up with, even though Chrissy curated it for him. 

Once dressed, he stepped quietly out to the living room to grab his jacket in the closet and pull out his boots. 

“You used my curl cream, I see,” Tatianna crosses her arms. He blushes. 

“Don’t be mad, I just wanna look good,” he puts on a faux pout, eyes rounding while he slides the leather over arms.

“You look really good,” she smiles, “It’s gonna be great.” 

Eddie shoves his socked feet in his Docs, worn in from years of wear, and looks up at her, “I’m kind of excited.” 

“You should be! I don’t know, I just have a really good feeling about this one,” she smirks, “Text me at some point, let me know how it goes.” 

“It’s a better indicator if he doesn’t text you, Tati,” Gareth says, coming up behind her, “You look sharp, dude.” 

“Sharp?” Eddie rolls his eyes, “What’re you? Eighty?” 

Tatianna clicks on her phone to look at the time, “Can you get the fuck outta here? You’re gonna be late!” 

“I’m going, I’m going!” he laughs, arms up while he grabs his keys from the hook by the door, “Wish me luck, bye!” 

Eddie felt sick. Suddenly feeling like he was standing at the edge of the pool in ‘98.

When he got his keys in the ignition of his Honda Civic, a text came through immediately. He swallowed tightly, in some way expecting it to be you. In some way, expecting you to be canceling on him. 

Instead, it was Tatianna in the big group chat: 

here, we made a playlist for you

Eddie clicks on the Spotify link and laughs. First Date - Blink 182

First Date - Blink 182

First Date - Blink 182

First Date - Blink 182

First Date - Blink 182

First Date - Blink 182

First Date - Blink 182

First Date - Blink 182

First Date - Blink 182

First Date - Blink 182 First Date - Blink 182 First Date - Blink 182 First Date - Blink 182

And so on. The music automatically connects, the opening guitar ripping through his speakers. Eddie quickly types up a response on his phone before pulling out into the street. 

very creative, edwards.

someone in this house has to be. ‘In the car, I just can't wait, to pick you up on our very first date. Is it cool if I hold your hand? Is it wrong if I think it's lame to dance?’ He rolls his eyes as Mark and Tom serenade him in the car, laughing at the lyrics. It’d been a while since he’d listened to this album, let alone this song. While he won’t admit it to Gareth or his girlfriend, it was exactly what he needed before he got to the bar. 

‘Do you like my stupid hair? Would you guess that I didn't know what to wear? I'm just scared of what you think, you make me nervous so I really can't eat.’ “Let’s go, don’t wait, this night’s almost over,” he sings along, fingers tapping on his steering wheel while he waits at a red light. He’s on the fourth replay of the song by the time he pulls up. The ignition cuts off the lyrics before the chorus, he takes a big breath before opening the door. Just a couple minutes past seven, but he told you he was running a little late, so you wouldn’t be mad. His phone buzzes to Robin, Steve, and Jeff reacting to the playlist Tati sent. Alicia, Jeff, and Nancy sent him sweet good luck messages. Robin and Steve sent them a picture from a bar they were at, flipping him off. ‘Break a leg, dingus,’ came in her follow up voice memo. Eddie considers making this new picture his phone background. 

He swallows hard when he gets to the door, his bottom lip getting pulled between his teeth in apprehension. He nods to himself, “You got this, Munson.”  Another deep breath, he’s still ten, he’s still afraid to dive off the diving block. What if it hurts? What if he belly flops? 

‘What if you don’t? What if you dive this time?’ He thinks to himself. He opens the door to the bar, his ten year old self puts one foot on the diving block. The chatter of a few conversations at once is disorienting, so is the low light of the bar in comparison to the neon outside. The man at the entrance asks for his ID and he awkwardly fumbles for his wallet as if it’s not obvious he’s been old enough to drink for eleven years. “Here, man,” he says, somehow nervous he’ll get caught with a fake like he’s nineteen again. The security’s light flashes over his birthdate and he passes it back with a short and gruff thank you. Eddie takes a few steps before checking his phone to remind him what you said you’d be wearing.

in a red cut off sweatshirt, jeans that look like dickies – hard to miss! white airforces! i’m here, looking for you if you can’t spot me just approach the most off putting girl at the bar, it’s probably me :) 

He smiles into the light of his phone. You’re are funny. His phone lights up again, another text bubble added to your previous one. Eddie’s heart hammers in his chest when he looks at it, knowing you’re really only moments away. got you a guinness cause that’s what you said you liked on your profile. it looks like battery acid tbh. there’s a couple seats by the end of the bar, i’ll grab them. He looks up from his phone finally to see a blur of red start maneuvering over to the end of the bar. That’s you. Oh shit, that’s you. Oh shit, you’re – fuck. You have a fat fucking ass in those jeans. He swallows again, shaking the horny thoughts out of his head through the tendrils of his hair. Another deep breath through the nose, out of the water to the diving block just to dive again. He walks the length of the bar and hears his name, your voice in real life – not through a voice note or on your profile. “Ed?” 

Eddie catches your eye and his heart sinks and leaps so quickly he thinks he’s going into cardiac arrest. You’re real pretty, even more so when you grin at him from a few feet away. You wave him over and he does his best to walk confidently towards you, taking his jacket off while he does. He doesn’t know it, but the other girls at the bar are looking. He’s all broad shoulders and dark tattoos, two silver chains and understated rings. Full lips and doe eyes. Tatianna never told a lie, he was unmistakably handsome – he just didn’t know what to do with it. You toss your hair when you speak to the bartender from the end of the bar with a bright smile. The man puts two drinks in front of you and you leave cash in their wake. Eddie winces when he sees you pay, but tries to ignore the sting. In a way, it feels like he’s already losing – like he’s playing Sims with Robin and he’s not on track to get a gold reward on date night. You’re hot and you know it, but he can tell it’s like you just found out. Your eyes are flirty no matter what you’re looking at, you’re full bodied and it’s like you know it’s making him salivate. Eddie can’t help but be nervous when he takes a seat next to you, fingers immediately drumming on the bar top in front of him. “Guinness for you,” you say, sliding the pint glass in front of him. “Thanks,” he smiles, “You didn’t have to do that. I asked you out, you’re not supposed to be paying for me.” 

“I know, but – why don’t you get the next one and we’ll call it even?” you offer. He nods while he takes a sip, eyeing the lighter orangey liquid in your glass. “Did you get a cider?” he teases. 

“It’s a grapefruit beer, thank you,” your brows furrow at him while you take a sip. You have a good face, part of him wants to say that but it seems like a weird compliment. ‘Nice face.’ Like, what does that even mean? His tongue feels heavy, he can feel the sweat building under his curly bangs. “Weaksauce,” he laughs, scrunching his nose, “Grapefruit beer? Not for me, toots.” 

“Yeah, because you drink battery acid!” you tease back, “You’re a stout snob, huh?”

“Nah, just never heard of grapefruit beer. I always drink Guinness – or like, Miller light. Never really stray,” he shrugs. 

“You wanna try mine?” you ask, sliding the glass to him. 

“You sure?” he watches you nod and brings the beer to his lips. It’s tart, a little bubbly, hitting his tongue on the off beat from the stout before. It settles and then it’s sweet, he wonders if you’re the same. Eddie smacks his lips, “I don’t hate it.” 

“That’s such a stout snob thing for you to say,” you pull a face, bringing your drink back to sit in front of you. “I’d offer you a sip of mine but I know you don’t like it,” he smiles, “Wouldn’t want to ruin the taste of your dessert beer.” “Fuck off,” you shake your head and smile, taking another sip of your drink. The Guinness in his hand makes him feel less nervous, but not all the way – toeing the line of the end of the diving block but not scared to look down into the water. He can tell you’re nervous too by the way you pick at a hangnail on your thumb absentmindedly, the way you cross and uncross your legs. Eddie’s eyes linger for a moment at the way they spill over each other, squishing flat on the seat of the stool when you keep them uncrossed. He tries to discreetly follow the line of your thighs to your hips, up to your waist before getting ahead of himself and pulling his eyes away. 

“How was your day?” you ask. Not the question he was expecting. “My day?” he asks, brows raised while he tries to recollect anything before getting ready to see you. “Uh, my day was good. Yours?” You fucking dumbass, you couldn’t just spare one detail? She’s gonna think you’re an asshole. “It was fine,” you answer quietly. Your smile fades a little and he feels a panicked chill rush in his chest. “S-sorry, I should’ve elaborated. I sound like such a dick, sorry,” Eddie feels the heat creeping up on his cheeks, a clamminess starting up at his hairline, “I um, I went to work. Came home, went to a friend’s house for a minute and we talked about a campaign we’re putting together next weekend. I had some dinner, and then I started getting ready to see you and um – uh, now I’m here.” “Campaign? Are you a politician or somethin’?” you quirk a brow while you look him over. He feels insecure under your gaze, he hopes you like his tattoos.  

“No, no, it’s for Dungeons and Dragons.” Saying it outloud makes him feel like a loser, even though you don’t react like you think so. 

“Cool,” you smile. 

“Do you like, even know what that is?” Defensive already, waiting for you to make fun of him. Waiting for this to end up another mistake. Waiting to belly flop. 

“Yeah, I know what it is,” you answer quietly again, this time your shoulders, “Have some friends that play.” 

“Oh, cool. Cool,” Eddie nods, chest tightening, toying with his rings while you reach for your drink, “Um, I’m — yeah, sorry if that came off like, dickish. I didn’t mean to—.” 

“No, no, it’s okay,” you shake your head when you say it, almost like it’s rehearsed. Like you’re always ‘okay’-ing something. 

“Sometimes people think it’s weird when I tell them, I dunno,” he shrugs, still looking down at his rings, “If I’m being honest I haven’t been so great at this whole dating thing.” 

You smile again and he looks up in time to see it, his breath hitches. You’re very pretty. 

“If it makes you feel any better, I learned how to play Magic the Gathering twice to impress a boy. Two different ones,” you grimace, scrunching your nose, “Gross right?” 

“Oof, that’s rough,” he jokes, “Magic the Gathering? That’s like, way worse than D&D.”

“Well the difference between you and me, is that I don’t still play,” you bite back, cocking your head while you take another drink. “Didn’t impress those boys after all, huh?” he raises a brow and your mouth falls open in faux offense. 

“You’re so mean,” you gasp.

“Sorry, sweetheart,” he drawls, “Should’ve put that in my profile.” 

“Oh, so you are mean?” you grin. 

“The meanest,” he grins back, teeth straight and shiny. Full lips pulled tight against them, “How was your day?” “I worked,” you shrug, “Not as exciting.” 

“What do you do?” he asks, turning towards you on the stool, leaning one arm on the bar. He relaxes into the seat, legs spreading wide while his free hand runs nervously over his thigh.

“I’m a personal assistant to a jewelry maker,” you let out a half chuckle through your nose, “It sounds fake when I say it out loud. But basically, I just keep her schedule and run errands and keep her shit in order. She’s an older woman and she’s not the most tech savvy in the world — great at what she does though, really eccentric but I feel like you gotta be when you work in the arts like that.” 

“That’s cool,” he says softly, watching you talk, “What kind of jewelry does she make?” 

“Oh you’ll love this, since you like D&D and stuff,” you start, your excitement is infectious, his heart thrums, “She makes fine jewelry for the most part, but also makes anodized chain mail jewelry and wearable pieces for theater and ren fairs on the side. I told you, eccentric.” 

“Oh, so she’s a little alchemist, huh?” he smirks. 

“Kinda, yeah,” you shrug, heat hitting your cheeks while he keeps his gaze on you, “It’s cool to watch the first few times, and then you get bored.” 

“I’m sure it’s the same for people who watch my band,” he laughs. You shake your head, a curve pulling from the corners of your lips while you finish your beer. 

“Alchemist,” you repeat with a playful roll of your eyes, “You’re such a nerd.” 

“What do you do for work?” he notices you fully turn when you ask, your knees toward him. He remembers Steve telling him once that it was always a good sign when they do that. Like Steve knows anything about body language and dating these days, he’s been platonically attached to Robin for years. His little guard dog. 

“I’m a teacher,” he replies, knocking back the remainder of the Guinness in his glass.  

“Hm,” you hum, looking him over suspiciously, “That’s surprising.” 

“I work at a performing arts school,” he rolls his eyes, “It’s 2023, I’m allowed to have tattoos.” “What do you teach?” you squint when you look him over a second time, “Actually, let me guess – drama?” 

“Music theory,” he corrects. 

“Ooh, big brain,” you joke, “That’s cool.” 

“Big brain? I don’t know about that, I just like music,” he shrugs, “It makes sense to me.” “When I was in high school everyone always talked about how hard music theory was – like, all the band kids,” you explain, there’s a sparkle starting to glint in your eye when you talk to him. “You were hanging out with the band kids?” he tosses a sarcastic knowing look before taking his glass in his hands, “And I’m a nerd? I dunno girl, it’s not looking good for you here...” “Even worse, I was dating one,” you grimace back. “Fuuuuck, you were really fighting for your life in 2009 huh?” Eddie laughs low, lower lip tucking in between his teeth to run his tongue over it. 

“2007, 2008 all the way to like, 2016,” you hide your face in one hand and he wishes you wouldn’t. 

“Damn, that’s a long time,” he observes, “You didn’t marry that guy?” 

You lift your head back up, and shake your head, “It was on and off for a long time, he’s not a fan favorite. It’s uh – it’s why I normally don’t date musicians. I almost didn’t match with you ‘cause of your first picture.” 

Fucking Tatianna. 

“Eek, sorry,” Eddie puts his hands up, “Should I go?” “Do you play bass?” you wince.

“I play a lot of instruments,” he chuckles, “I can play the bass. But I’m not like…a bass player, if you know what I mean.” 

“Oh, I know what you mean,” you breathe out a sigh of relief, “Made that mistake more than once.” “What’s your favorite instrument that you play?” you ask, it’s almost girlish. He ponders it while you cross your legs, the toe of your shoe barely brushing the back of his calf but he knows it's there. You rest your chin on your fist while you watch him think about it. His brown eyes glint in the reflection of the light overhead, plush lips parted while he runs his hands over his stubble. “I think I’d have to say…electric guitar? I’ve been playing that the longest,” he hopes you think that’s cool. “Is it the same one that’s in your pictures?” 

“The Warlock?” he asks with a grin, “Yeah, that’s my girl. Best relationship of my life, prob’ly the only lady who talks more than me.” 

“It’s really nice. I like the color.” 

“Thank you,” he says quietly, eyes darting to your knees where they sit between his, “Um, can I get you another drink? Do you want a beer or…?” 

“If I get a real drink will you stop making fun of my beer?” 

“I promise.” He slides off the stool, sad to see your close proximity to him fade away when he stands up. 

“They have food here, right? I’m sort of hungry, if that’s okay,” your voice gets sheepish when you ask. 

“Yeah, that’s okay. Did you eat dinner?” The words fall out of him too fondly. 

“I had like, a huge spinach salad,” you explain, “Might not have been enough.” 

Something tells him to press further before he buys you more liquor, lest this date go to the wayside too quickly, “Did you eat lunch?” 

“I worked through lunch.” 

“Did you eat breakfast?” 

“I had a smoothie,” you confess. 

“Okay, so before I get you a drink, why don’t I get you some chicken fingers or something?” he insists. You’re shy in your smile back to him, nodding along at his advice. Yes, you should eat more before you keep drinking with him. He doesn’t want you to think he’s just trying to get you tipsy, he’s never been that kind of guy – even when he’d bring home girls from the bar. (They’d at least be the same level of totally obliterated as he was.)

He beams back at you when you nod, “Atta girl.” 

He doesn’t notice when your thighs clench. 

The last chicken finger is eaten, the last fry of the basket he got for you to split crunched through. The conversation had lulled, not because you weren’t interesting – the nerves were getting to him, creeping up like vines along his chest. The look over the diving block at the water, it’s slow waves teasing him to jump. 

“So um,” you began, swallowing your final fry and wiping your hands on a napkin, “Since you’re a teacher, how was school today?” 

Eddie’s so used to this question that his response doesn’t change, always the same quote from the same movie. Forgetting he doesn’t know you like that, his mouth moves quicker than his desire to play things off cool.

“The worst day of my life, what do you think? Gosh!” Eddie sounds more like John Heder in 2004 than John Heder does now – but when he hears himself say it, he’s immediately embarrassed. Eddie opens his mouth to apologize, nervous you won’t understand but instead – you laugh. And what a sound that is for him to hear. 

“Oh, shit. I haven’t watched Napoleon Dynamite in years. Like, not since grade school.” Eddie laughs with you, “Sorry, sorry, that’s like my go-to reaction at home when my roommates ask me that. I should’ve said something more normal like, ‘It was fine. The kids can’t stop trying to take TikTok fancams of me.”

“Roommates? Fancams? You’re so hip, tell me more,” you enthuse. He puts a finger up to stop you at first, locking eyes with the bartender so he can finally order another round of drinks. 

“What kind of real drink do you want?” he asks. 

“Just a marg on the rocks, salt,” you shrug. 

“Psh, I said a real drink,” Eddie teases with a roll of the eyes, but they soften when you go to argue back, “I’m kidding, I’m kidding.” 

His toes inch towards the middle of the diving block.

“You’re cute when you’re mad,” he flirts. Eddie can see the heat hit your cheeks, the creep of a smile slowly curving upwards, you’re embarrassed. Nervous like he is. Maybe this is going just fine. 

When the drinks arrive he slides the margarita towards you and sips his own Jack and Coke slowly through the tiny bar straw. 

“Okay, so. I have two roommates. Gareth, who’s been my best friend since I was nine; and Tatianna who has been my best friend since I was twenty-nine,” he explains. 

“So why aren’t you dating Tatianna?” you challenge. You miss the straw when you reach for it with your mouth, it slides over to the other side of the cup. You try again and miss, cheeks burning while Eddie looks at you continue to fuck up. His eyes glint mischievously while you hold in your frustrated laughter, “Stop looking at me.” 

“It’s fine, I’ll wait while you get your life figured out over there,” he jokes, checking ‘the time’ on his wrist, “Shouldn’t be too long until you finally get it.” 

“You’re so annoying,” you grit out playfully while you capture the straw between your teeth, “Should’ve put that on your profile, too.”

“Anyway,” he continues, “I’m not dating Tatianna because Gare’s going to propose to her when they go on vacation in a few weeks.”

 “Oh! Yeah, that makes sense,” you nod, “Probably not a good idea to date your best friend’s almost wife.” 

“Yeah, definitely not well advised,” he shakes his head, pulling his hair up off of his neck for a minute before dropping it down, “Plus, her last name is Edwards and I dunno…don’t think I could live with myself if I was ‘Eddie Edwards’.”

You laugh again and he hoped you would. It’s a goofy laugh, you don’t try to sound cute when you do it. He knows you must be a loud laugher, if your small ones are any preview to what you could really do. You don’t sound like Chrissy. Her laugh was dainty, feathery. Like how they teach you to giggle in an etiquette class – all soft edges, all smooth lines. 

“You wanna take the girl’s last name?” you raise your brows, “Very forward thinking. Progressive.” 

“I don’t know, something about it’s kinda hot right?” he asks cock of his head, “Plus, my dad sucks so I don’t want to keep repping him by having his last name.” 

“Oh wow, my dad sucks, too,” you reply cheerily, “We have so much in common!” 

“What was it you said before? ‘Twin behavior’?” 

“Twin behavior, yes!” your hands meet both of his knees where he sits across from you, your tone is light and earnest, “You get me.”

Eddie takes in a hitch of breath, desperate to keep his cool when he feels your hands on him. It’s not even sexy but he could shoot straight to the moon if you asked him to. You use his knees as leverage to hop down from your stool, grabbing your drink before nudging him with your hip. 

“If we’re still battling though, there’s an air hockey table in the back room if you wanna play,” you offer. 

“Are you any good?” he wonders, hopping off the stool to follow you to the back. 

“I’m amazing,” you grin, “Actually won seventeen first place trophies in the intergalactic air hockey competition – of course I’m fucking bad at it, that’s why it’s fun to play.” 

Eddie laughs this time, it’s gruff and nicotine soaked. You’re already winning the battle for funniest person – you’re sharp with him and he’s starting to like it. He runs his hand over the side of the air hockey table in the empty back room, more and more pleased that he put this date together on a Monday. He slides a dollar into the machine so it whirs to life, the neon lights flicking on with a stutter. 

“This reminds me of birthday parties when I was a kid,” you muse to yourself, reaching for the hockey disc trapped in your goal, “Can you help me?” 

He nods, hand grazing your back to get you out of the way – you’re warm to the touch. If he was a braver man he would’ve pulled you into him but he’s not, instead squatting down to reach further into the goal where your game piece was. 

“Hm,” he murmurs, reaching further back and barely touching the top of it, “It’s in here, it’s just back there. I can get it, just –” he sucks his teeth like he did the night before, getting to his knees to try. Music plays over head, stuff the new crop of bar goers would consider oldies. You smile at the opening ‘Damn, shawty snappin’...’ of T-Pain’s ‘Buy U A Drank’, but even more surprised when you hear Eddie sing along softly to himself. 

“Snap ya fingers, do yuh step, you can do it all by yourself. Babygirl, what’s your name?” “Not you knowing the lyrics,” you laugh. 

“I was in highschool in 2007 of course, I know the lyrics,” he huffs, standing up, “I think it’s a bust for air hockey.” 

“That’s fine,” you shrug, “We tried.” 

“I know the club, close at three,” he lip syncs to himself before, turning his attention to you, “What’s the chances of you rollin’ with me?” 

You back and forth to each other in time with the lyrics before settling back down in your spot at bar. 

“You even know the Yung Joc part? Damn,” you laugh again, he loves it. 

“Why’re you so surprised? Is it the tattoos?” he asks. 

“Well yeah, you definitely give off a ‘loved Avenged Sevenfold’ in high school vibe,” you scooch your stool closer to his, your knees slotting between his open ones like a perfect puzzle. It’s not enough though, and he’s not sure if it’s himself or the Jack and Coke that encourages him, but he reaches for one of the legs of your stool to pull you closer. 

“Hey,” he says, your faces only a few inches apart. 

“Hey,” you respond. You catch his eyes flick briefly to your lips before they meet yours again. You can see the light smatter of freckles over his nose, long faded from the summer. 

“You’re right, I was really into Avenged Sevenfold when I was in highschool.” 

“I figured. I was into that whole scene thing, back then. All those singers that are mad at their dad’s and like, in retrospect, all hate women I guess,” you realize it as you speak. 

“I probably would’ve thought you were cute,” he guesses. 

“No, you would’ve called me a poser,” you correct, “Don’t lie.” 

He hesitates before nodding, “No, no, you’re right I definitely would’ve called you a poser. Did you like Fall Out Boy and all of that shit?” 

“Don’t shit on the music I liked,” you frown, “That’s not cool.” 

“I’m not, I’m not,” he assures, pulse speeding, “I promise, I’m not. I’m sorry.” You continue talking about music, high school, college, some ins and outs. Nothing too serious. Nothing too intense. But by now, Eddie’s feeling nice and if one thing’s for certain:

He wants to fucking kiss you. Toes at the edge of the diving block, Miss Tiffany’s whistle caught between her teeth. 

“So now that we’re three drinks in, can I ask you a personal question?” you ask, your eyes a little glassy. You’ve confessed that you’re tipsy, but aware, that if you have one more drink you won’t be – so Eddie already paid the tab. 

“What do you wanna know?” he asks.

“Why’re you,” you enunciate, implying he’s something, “On the apps? It’s hard to believe that someone like you would be single. Unless you have like, something deeply wrong with you, but you’ve been all green flags so far.” 

Your hand falls back to his knee and he eyes it before sliding his own hand down his thigh to lace your fingers with his. 

“You want the real story?” he asks, lifting your hand up of his knee to play with your fingers in both of his hands while he talks. His hands are warm and calloused on the fingertips, but the rest are soft. Lacing and unlacing, running his thumb up the lengths of your fingers, tracing your palm. 

“The real story.” 

“You gonna tell me why you’re on the apps after?” 

“Sure,” you nod. You look gentle, at ease. He eases in, too. 

“I got divorced in 2020,” he confesses. It feels like a weight off his chest to tell you, “Married my high school sweetheart, things were great for a long time, but y’know. People grow and – the pandemic was not kind to us.”

“Oh, I’m…I’m sorry to hear that,” you offer softly. 

“It’s okay,” he smiles tightly. “I guess I was both surprised and not surprised at all when she broke up with me. Almost relieved, I guess – that I didn’t have to play the part of her husband anymore. Not that she was a bad wife or anything, she was great she just – I don’t know,” he rambles, “And I don’t know, I just threw myself into work and my friends after. Girls after shows. Was too scared to like – go on dates incase it ended up like my marriage and –” 

He laughs, “My friends were tired of seeing me be so sad, I guess.” 

“You have such a solid support system,” you comment, “You mention your friends, like, every other sentence.” 

A beat. “I like that,” you nod and smile. He can’t get over how you look when you do that. 

“Why’re you on the apps?” he asks, your hand now cradled between the two of his, his fingers grazing your wrist. 

“I’m six months out of a six year long relationship,” you let out a breath through your nose and drop your shoulders a little, “Figured it was time to get back out there – enter my slut era.” 

“Oh yeah, you’re super slutty,” he teases, “That’s actually the first thing I thought when I saw you. ‘She’s in her slut era.’” “God, fuck offfff,” you giggle again. 

“But yeah, I ended it. I figure I should make that clear,” you say, “Just in case that’s like, a red flag for you. But I don’t know, we just weren’t growing in the same directions. Things felt done way before I left and I – I don’t know. I think I was just scared. I took some time for myself and now, here I am.” 

“It’s okay that you ended your relationship, it’s not a red flag,” Eddie’s voice soothes you when he says it, “If you told me you like, cheated on him and then hit him with your car then maybe yeah, I’d be a little concerned. But you’re an adult, you just know what you want better this time around.”

“Yeah,” you agree. Your eyes meet in a silent confirmation. His eyes flick to your lips for a second time before tucking his lower lip between his teeth again. 

BELLY FLOP! 

“You wanna head out? It’s getting a little late,” he offers. 

Your brows raise in surprise, “Uh, sure, yeah.” 

“Not that I don’t like spending time with you,” he assures, letting his fingers linger over your hand while he stands up, not wanting to lose contact just yet, “Just don’t want to keep you out too late.” 

“Oh yes!” you start with an old southern twang, “My daddy’ll be out there with his pistol if I don’t get home ‘fore sundown.”

“You’re funny,” he laughs, letting go over your hand to reach up and squeeze your cheeks affectionately. You both put on your jackets and head outside, both of you wincing in the cold of the winter air. 

“I’d really like to do this again, if you want,” a shy blush reaches his cheeks, meeting the pink from the cold. 

“Yeah, I’d like that,” you’re just as shy in your response, “This was fun. You’re fun.” 

“Thank you,” he flushes deeper, trying to prolong the inevitable. What if he belly flops? What if it hurts? What if the kids make fun of him? 

“I’d offer to drive you home but I’ve had a few,” he says, hand reaching out to fall on your shoulder, “I feel good to drive but like, god forbid anything happens so – I’m happy to get you a car or pay for it for you.” 

“That’s really sweet, thanks. Let me just um,” you pull out your phone to get in Uber with a speed that impresses him, “It’s really not that pricey, I’m close-ish by.” 

“Still,” he says, “Just wanna be a gentleman y’know?” 

“You’re very gentlemanly,” you flirt. Eddie stiffens, nervous, palms clammy. 

“So um, I’ll see you soon?” he asks, opening his arms to give you a hug. 

“Yeah, for sure,” you nod while you let him engulf you. His scent is warm and spicy, mixed with tobacco. You guess either still smokes, or he used to, but he never got up to have a cigarette in the hours you were at the bar. Eddie let’s go and cups your cheek briefly before giving you a gentle but winning smile. His warm brown eyes linger for the last time on your lips, now they’re slightly parted, waiting for him. His toes curl over the edge of the diving block, his knees are bent, arms up over his head...I don’t want to Miss Tiffany. 

Swimming sucks.

“See ya.” 

You quirk your brow for a moment, having expected much more than a hug, “Oh, um…see ya.” 

He walks half way down the street to his car, heart thrumming in his chest in embarrassment. He should’ve just done it. FUCK. He should’ve just kissed you. 

But what if it hurts? What if she leaves? What if you can’t make it to level three? What if they laugh at you? 

He breathes heavily through his nose while tears threaten to well up in his eyes, staining his eyelashes. What if you don’t want to see him again after this? What if you change your mind? He sighs audibly when he turns the key, phone auto connecting to the speakers. He turns up the radio while the car revs to life, pulling on his seatbelt and putting the wheels into gear. He leans back in his seat to pull out of his spot only to see you still waiting for the car outside of the bar. 

Blink-182 blares through his speakers, hitting him straight in the chest.

‘Let’s go, don’t wait, this night’s almost over. Honest, let’s make,this night last forever. Forever. And ever. Let’s make this last forever.’ 

What if he did stay a little later after class? What if he got the chance to move on to level three? 

Fuck it, he thinks. He turns off the ignition, shaking out the sounds of Jason Carver and the kids laughing, the sounds of their feet kicking in the water. Just Miss Tiffany and her whistle. He gets out of the car, determined. You’re still there, head whipping around to see him coming towards you while you bounce on the balls of your feet in the cold. 

Arms up. Knees bent. “Ed? My car’s gonna be here in a sec–” Whistle. His hands reach out to your cold cheeks to pull you in before his full lips capture yours. His eyes flutter close at the contact, feeling your mouth react to his in time. Soft and needy, hydrated. You immediately know how to keep his pace while he separates and goes back in for more. Wet but not messy, passionate but not feverish. The smoothest dive he’d ever done in his life. Your hands escape your pockets, fingers sliding behind his neck to pull him closer, sliding through the nape of his hair. He breaks away for a moment to delicately push your hair out of your face and really look at you before pressing his lips to yours again. You only stop when your Uber beeps from across the street. 

“I wanted to do that all night,” he mumbles sheepishly. 

“I wanted you to do that all night, too,” you giggle, breathless and blushing, “Thank you.” 

“Thank you,” he says, running a hand over his face, “Let me know when you get home, okay?” 

“Okay,” you nod, hurrying across the street as the car honks again,  “Bye!” 

“I’ll put something together for next time!” he calls out. ‘Cause there will be a next time. 

Tatianna is leaning over the back of the couch with her chin in her hands when Eddie opens the door. Her cheshire cat grin matches his own. 

“So I didn’t hear from you all night,” she starts, her voice syrupy smooth, “So that means it must’ve went really well.” 

Eddie sighs dreamily, kicking off his boots at the entryway and hanging his jacket on one of the hooks by the door. 

“Ooh, you like herrrr! I can tell! Look at your stupid face!” she laughs, pointing at him, bouncing on the cushions. 

“Tati she’s…fuck,” he shakes his head in disbelief while he walks towards her, “There’s either two ways this could go.” 

“Yeah?” she asks, looking up at him, “And those are?” 

“I’m gonna marry her, or she’s gonna absolutely fuckin’ ruin my life.” 

“I like her already,” Tati grins, “Sit down, tell me everything.” 

“Yeah, yeah, give me a sec,” he grumbles, his phone buzzing in his pocket. He plops down onto the couch while Tati grabs two cups of tea from the kitchen that she made especially for the recap of his night. Gareth had been long asleep for an early morning at work tomorrow. 

Eddie takes out his phone, two unread text alerts lingering on his home page. He opens them, smiling stupidly into the screen.

i’m home :) you’re a really good kisser by the way. 

glad you made it home safe. you are too. :) but you started off pretty kissable so, that’s probably why. you’re making me blush over here, stop it. 

Eddie lets out a soft chuckle through his nose, clicking out of your text conversation to go back to his home screen. 

He deletes the apps.

#eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fan fiction #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #stranger things fanfiction #eddie munson

[ramblingthoughtsofayoungadult]

Bad PR-Jordan Li Fic

A/N: I saw someone post about needing a fic about Jordan being in a relationship where they're "unmarketable" and haven't been able to get the idea out of my head since. This is written with a black reader in mind. I also have a sequel in mind if anyone wants it.

Word Count: 3739

Warnings: Some sensuality and swearing.

I don't claim to own any characters or property from Gen V or The Boys. All credit to the original gif creators.

  Silence was something that I always thought I longed for. Every day for the past twenty years, there was noise, whether it was someone (usually multiple) talking, music blasting, cars going by, or screaming. By now, I thought I would have learned how to tune it out and focus on what was most important: save the little kids from a burning school, study as hard as I could to get into GOD U, and manipulate social media algorithms so much it would make tech experts’ heads spin.

   But, I hadn’t. Then, I thought I got used to the noise, the demands to take pictures with total strangers, the background noise of a song I was doing a TikTok challenge to, Liza, my Vought-assigned PR rep, and my parents insisting on what I should wear, and the constant buzzing in the back of my head that my ability caused. However, as I laid on Jordan’s bed, listening to them ramble about Brink, I didn’t mind the noise so much.

  “I mean, he’s kind of a mad genius but for good,” Jordan stated. Then, they turned to me with a sheepish smile on their face. “Sorry, I’m boring you, aren’t I?”

  I shook my head. “No, no, it’s alright. Brink’s brilliant and it’s amazing that you’re his mentee.” I pushed myself up onto my elbows. “Besides, you’re pretty cute when you’re excited.”

  Jordan rolled their eyes and slowly made their way towards me, stopping right at the foot of their bed. “Only when I’m excited?”

  “Shut up, you know you always look good,” I teased.

   They playfully flipped their hair and batted their eyes. “Well, we can’t all have a glam squad on call so I appreciate it.”

   I scoffed, rose to my knees, and playfully pushed their shoulder only for them to switch to their masculine form and grab my hand. “That’s not fair and I didn’t even ask for them, my parents and Liza insisted on it when I got in.”

   Jordan nodded but I could tell they weren’t listening since their eyes were on my lips. “I don’t feel like talking anymore.”

   Something about their deeper masculine voice sent tingles down my spine and made my stomach feel fuzzy. Then again, they easily caused the same effect in both forms. My breath caught in my throat as soon as our lips touched, and I could feel my heart rate pick up. I tried to relax in their gentle but firm grip as I wrapped my hands around their neck, but it was easier said than done.

   Suddenly, my back was against their bed and the kissing got more fervent. Jordan slipped their tongue down my throat and trailed one of their hands down my leg. I shivered as they pulled my leg up around their hip and pressed further into me.

   “I should’ve known this is what you meant when you said you wanted to hang out,” I breathed after pulling away for a second.

   “I had good intentions but you kept screwing me with your eyes,” Jordan huffed back.

   “No, I---” Jordan cut me off, switching to their feminine form and kissing my jaw, working their way down my neck. “Not…fair.”

   One of their hands slowly started trailing up under my (their) sweatshirt and I tried to stifle my giggles at the soft touch. After a couple of seconds, I couldn’t help but start giggling and covered my face when Jordan paused their actions and looked up at me.

   “Still ticklish?” Jordan teased.

   “Shut up, it’s your fault since they're your hands,” I groaned through another laugh.

   Jordan smirked at me and ran their hands down my waist, gently tapping my sides, causing more laughter on my end. I tried to reach for their hands to stop them but they were too good at dodging me. At some point during my laughter, my phone started ringing.

    “Ignore it,” Jordan whined as they pressed their head against my stomach, their big brown eyes somehow looking bigger and browner than usual.

   “I can’t,” I whined back as I pulled away from them and grabbed my phone from my desk. “It’s Liza, I have to answer.”

    Jordan rolled their eyes. “That bitch has the worst timing.”

   “She might not be able to help it.” I quickly answered the phone. “Hey, Liza.”

   “Y/N, I’m on campus and we need to talk ASAP. Meet me outside the Crimefighting building in five,” Liza rattled off.

   “Oh, sure, what’s it about?” I asked.

   “I’ll tell you when I see you.”

   She clicked off and I turned to Jordan, who was much less than pleased.

  “Let me guess, you have to go,” they said.

   “I’m sorry, it sounded important,” I said as I started grabbing my stuff from around their room. “I’ll try to make it quick.”

   “No, don’t worry about it.” They pushed themselves off the bed and stood in front of me, gently grabbing my hands in theirs. “It’s your career and I’m proud of you. I knew what I was getting into when the Cyclone became my girlfriend.”

    I wrinkled my nose. “Ugh, don’t say it like that. But I appreciate you and I will show you as much later.” I quickly kissed them and grabbed my shoes. Just as I was about to leave, I paused at something in their closet. “Is that my jacket?”

   Jordan shook their head. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

   I snatched the item from the closet and held it out. “Jordan, you’re going to try to convince me that you’re into vintage Yves Saint Laurent?”

       “Your taste rubbed off on me,” they said with a shrug.

       “I’m flattered.” I put it back in their closet.  

        “By the way, do you know where my black hoodie went?”

       “See you later!”

        About four and a half minutes later, I was sitting at an outdoor table with Liza and my parents. Despite the summer heat, Liza was wearing a navy skirt suit, and her graying black hair was tied into a severe bun on the top of her head. She was typing on two different phones and her laptop simultaneously, deep blue eyes never staying on anything too long. My mom, who sat on my right, smiled kindly.

        “So, Y/N, how does it feel to be a junior?” she asked.

        “Great, Mom. I thought I told you and Dad that you didn’t have to hover this much since I am a junior now,” I said, glancing at my dad who was on my other side.

        “We’re not hovering, it’s been two days since we dropped you off,” Dad insisted. “Besides, this is about business.”

          “Wha---”

           “Oh my gosh, is that Y/N Y/L/N?” Someone squealed behind me.

          “Show time,” I sighed.

          The “someone” was actually two someones, a pair of what looked like freshmen. One was a tall, pretty brunette in a white graphic tee and matching mini skirt and the other was an equally pretty, slightly shorter brunette wearing jean shorts and Vans. The taller one held her V-Phone with a death grip.

           “Can we take a picture with you?” The taller one asked.

           “Of course.” I stood from my seat and made my way over to them.

           “I can take it.” But before my mom could stand, Liza shot up from her seat, grabbed the phone, and ushered us closer together.

           “Okay, Y/N in the middle, Tall Girl on the left, Short One on the right,” Liza instructed, eyes never looking up from the camera.

          “It’s Ashley,” the short one said.

          “Smile!”

          I did as I was told and the girls were walking away before I could even say an obligatory, “No problem.”

            Both my parents smiled as I sat back down.

            “It’s great to see that you’re still popular after all this time,” Dad said, his eyes hidden behind his tinted sunglasses.

             “As she should be. Y/N has thirty million followers across all her social media and she does amazing in the Midwest and the South, both tough demographics for young black women,” Liza stated.

            “Thanks, Liza,” I said, mindlessly playing with the ends of my butterfly locs. “So, you mentioned you were coming but left out my parents.”

            At this, Liza finally paused from typing and looked up at me. She slowly set her elbows on the table and rested her chin on top of her pale hands. My head involuntarily started shaking from side to side and Liza lifted one of her hands.

            “Let me speak first, Y/N, and then we can argue about it,” Liza stated.

            “The last time you said that, I ended up almost getting mauled by a dog during an animal shelter livestream,” I hissed.

             “Well, the dog had a serious history of trauma,” Liza insisted.

             “You didn’t inform me of that before insisting I cuddle with it for the camera!”

              “It was a learning lesson: you are fantastic under pressure.”

               I huffed and folded my arms over my chest. “So, what is this about?”

              Liza assumed her previous “Serious business” pose. “Like I was saying, you’re doing fantastic numbers. That last TikTok you and Cate did hit a hundred million views in less than twenty-four hours.”

            “The ‘Rover’ challenge wasn’t that hard,” I commented.

             “That’s amazing!” Mom practically cheered.

             “That’s my girl,” Dad said, wrapping his arm around my shoulders.

              I smiled despite the strong sense that a “but” was coming.

             “However,” Liza continued.

              Uh oh.

             “My job is to do everything in my power to make sure everyone associates Y/N Y/L/N and Cyclone with beauty, intelligence, grace, taste, and power. So, we are a little concerned about Jordan.”

              Immediately, my shoulders tensed and I gritted my teeth. “Who exactly is ‘we’?” I glanced at my parents.

                Mom’s eyes widened and I had no idea what Dad was doing.

                “No, of course not, Sweetie, we love Jordan. They have been a fantastic influence on you,” Mom insisted.

               I could feel my face warm up about what had transpired with Jordan a few minutes ago. I doubt that would fall under “good influence”, or any time we went out with the others. 

               “And they give you a run for your money when it comes to combat. You need someone challenging like them. Plus, that Luke boy isn’t bad either,” Dad added.

               As their words sunk in, I had a strange feeling that my parents were there to lessen a Vought-sized blow. My suspicions were confirmed when Liza’s lips pressed more firmly together and she was glancing at one of her phones.

               “Are you reading a script right now?” I seethed.

               Liza’s head shot up and she shook her head. “No, no, Y/N, not at all. Just some notes.” She quickly regrouped. “I understand that you’re happy and you’re probably having some fantastic sex right now----”

               “Liza!” I interrupted, praying that the ground would open and swallow me whole.

               Suddenly, Dad’s arm was back at his side, and Mom was suddenly very captivated by a pair of seniors skateboarding past.

               “But the facts are that a bi-gender Asian supe is not marketable in the Deep South or the Midwest,” Liza said. “I am not shaming Jordan for who they are but, my job is to sustain your relatable-but-unattainable brand and not let anything get in the way of it.”

              “You’re saying my partner is a threat to my career?” I asked, my voice much hollower than I intended.

               “Potentially. Now, I have come up with a very good alternative.” Liza turned her laptop so it was facing my parents and me. On it was a picture of Andre and some clips of us on social media. “Andre Anderson tested very well. Our focus group members responded positively to the black power couple aesthetic.”

             “We’ve met him before, he’s nice,” Mom offered.

              “He’s cool and I’ve met his dad and I could see us all getting along,” Dad mentioned.

               My head was swirling with so many thoughts that I was convinced I was either going to be overwhelmed by them or find one that was coherent enough to state. My mouth settled on, “It’s the twenty-first century and you’re all telling me I have to break up with my partner because of demographics? Jordan’s an amazing supe and they’re so smart, it’s scary. They can do---will do so much good and the only thing you care about is optics?”

               Mom gently touched my arm. “Y/N, please, calm down.”

When I glanced around, I noticed that several Vought-A-Burger wrappers, a couple of cigarettes, and a few panicked squirrels and rabbits were swirling around the table. Quickly, I released the small animals and put the trash in the nearby receptacle.

              “Sorry about that,” I muttered, eyeing Liza.

               “I understand that you have strong feelings for Jordan but, think about it. With the right moves, you could be living in The Tower with the legends of your generation. Sure, you’re number three at GOD U right now, but this status can easily go away. You’ve worked your entire life to be the hero that little black girls everywhere look up to. Don’t take Cyclone away from them before she even starts,” Liza warned.

               I desperately wanted to say something snarky, but my mind was blank. The only thing I could sense was my throat tightening up and my eyes beginning to well. I brushed a loc out of my face to play it off and tried to gain my thoughts.

              “How much time do I have before I make a decision?” I asked.

              “Twenty-four hours. I’ll be looking out for your call, text, email, or video call,” Liza stated as she started to pack her things.

                My parents stood and Mom gave me one of her warm hugs and Dad pulled me to his side.

              “It will be okay, Y/N,” he whispered.

               I swallowed the giant lump in my throat to thank him and then insisted on walking them back to their car.

              A few hours later, Elle Woods was sobbing in the fanciest restaurant in California while I carefully placed my baking pan in the oven. As much as I wanted to sob, I had no time for tears, I had to think. The thinking led me to have so many circular thoughts that my head spun and I resorted to baking and watching my favorite movie.

              If Elle could solve a murder case and exonerate her client as a first-year law student, I should be able to figure out this PR mess. On the one hand, I was happier with Jordan than I’ve ever been with anyone. On the other hand, my dreams and my family’s position were hanging by a thread.

            Maybe it was better that I channeled my energy into baking cupcakes.

            I exhaled a small gust of wind to clear the bowls and utensils from the counter and place them in the dishwasher. Then, I focused on pushing multiple gusts of wind from my hands to clean the counters and wash the dishes. By the time I was done, I was exhausted and flopped on my couch to mindlessly watch the movie.

            Unfortunately, the bright and colorful backdrop of Elle’s LSAT studying montage did nothing to take my mind off my dilemma. All I could think about was Jordan’s face when I told them. Breaking up with them would be like shooting a puppy’s mom in front of the puppy and making it watch it bleed out.

               How would I tell them anyway? Hey, babe, I’m sorry I had to run out on us almost hooking up to meet with Liza and my parents. Funny story, they want me to break up with you so that I have a shot at a career and date Andre instead. See you for that morning lecture?

             Knock! Knock! Knock!

            The sound jolted me from my thoughts, and I pushed myself off the couch to answer it. “Rufus, if you try to get me into your room again, I swear to----” I cut myself off at the sight of Jordan, in their feminine form, staring back at me.

            They wore a navy sweatshirt and black sweatpants. Also, their cheeks were more flushed than usual and they smelled like their sandalwood body wash, meaning they had probably stopped by the gym recently.

             “Is Rufus bothering you again? I’ll go murder him right now,” Jordan said.

              I quickly grabbed their wrist. “No, I appreciate the thought but I’m fine, besides, I can take care of myself.”

             “I know but I can’t help but worry.”

              A strange warm, tingling sensation ran its way from the center of my chest throughout the rest of my body. I was sure that if someone listened closely enough, they would hear me buzzing.

             I stepped aside to let Jordan in and leaned against the door to close it. “So, what brings you by?”

            They wandered over to my couch, sat down, and grabbed my phone off the coffee table. “Because you haven’t been answering my texts or calls.”

             “Crap, I am so sorry, Jordan, I’ve just had a lot on my mind.”

             Jordan glanced around my dorm. “I can see that.” They sniffed the air. “Legally Blonde and you’re baking, what happened at the meeting?” 

            Of course, Jordan would cut straight to the point. Usually, this kind of banter was pleasant but my stomach was in knots as Liza’s words and my parents’ expressions replayed in my mind.

           “What? I can’t bake and watch a comfort movie after a last-minute PR meeting?” I asked rhetorically, crossing the room to my desk to start organizing my textbooks.

           “Don’t try to deflect, Y/N. Tell me what happened.” Their voice was gentle but firm and I knew that they were not going to let me out of this conversation.

           So, I set Brink’s latest book down and sat across from Jordan on my tangerine accent chair. I prayed that I would find the right words to say before blurting them out. As soon as I made eye contact with them, my chest tightened.

          “Well, Liza surprised me by having my parents join us,” I started.

           Jordan raised their eyebrows. “Shit, this is serious.”

           “Uh-huh. Liza said that my numbers are doing great and I’m on track for a promising career.”

           “And?”

           I gulped. “And…she’s concerned that my personal choices might get in the way of that.”

          Jordan frowned. “Personal choices? Every college kid known to man has done illicit substances and drank alcohol underage. You’ve never been caught doing any of that anyway.”

        “You’re right but she wasn’t talking about partying; she was talking about us.”

         As soon as the bomb rolled off my tongue, I saw its impact on Jordan, from the flashing expressions of confusion and anger to the clenching of their fists. I just wanted to make it stop.

        “What?”

         As I rambled Liza’s reasoning, I could sense the hurt and animosity flowing from Jordan. Once I finished, the timer for the cupcakes went off and I jumped up to grab them. I could have cried at the momentary escape as I set them on the counter to cool.

        “She weaponized your desire to be a positive role model for other girls who look like you to screw you over,” Jordan said slowly.

           I wiped my hands on my sweatpants. “Liza’s doing her job, babe, and she’s looking at all angles, including how it could impact my goals.” I returned to my seat and folded my hands in my lap.

          “Her job is to make you choose between your relationship and your career?” Jordan asked. “That’s bullshit, this whole thing is.”

           “I know, Jordan, trust me, I know, I almost started a small tornado when she said it.”

            Jordan eyed me closely for a second. “What else did she say?”

           “What?”

           “I can tell you’re holding back, Y/N. Whatever else you have to say, it can’t be any worse.”

           They might have just jinxed that.

           “Liza thinks that Andre would be a better fit for me because a bunch of people like the idea of a black power couple.”

           Jordan had two angry responses: the first was they would attempt to tear down anything and everything around them unless consoled. The second was they would become unresponsive and deal with all their rage internally. That night, I got the second one. Their eyes were hollow and the color drained from their face. My eyes welled up as I hoped for them to start screaming, swearing, or something, but nothing happened.

         “But I don’t want to do it, Jordan, I think it’s so stupid.” I knelt in front of them, grabbed my phone from their hands, and set it aside to hold them. “My parents don’t even really agree with Liza because they know you and they think you’re awesome.”

        “What do you think?” they muttered.

        “Like I said, I think it’s stupid. We can figure something else out. Liza can spin us as the ultimate diverse power couple, huh?” I did my best to smile as widely as I could. “Come on, let’s forget about this. I made white velvet cupcakes with cream cheese filling. You can be my first taste tester once they cool.”

         Things would work out, they had to. We would figure something out and survive our junior year at GOD U with little to no incidents. Suddenly, Jordan’s hands slipped from my grasp and they shifted to their masculine form.

         “What if it doesn’t work out?” Jordan whispered.

          “What do you mean?” I replied.

         “I mean, you don’t necessarily have to be a supe but, I know that you’re scared for your parents. Your success has helped them a lot and it could destroy them if your reputation takes a hit,” they said. “And I’ve seen how little black girls light up when they see you now and how passionate you are about helping them and, I know that you’re just getting started and I don’t want to be in the way.”          “Jordan…”

         “I don’t want to hold you back anymore, Y/N,” they muttered.

         Their words sunk deep into my core like a boulder and took all my words with it. I wanted to tell them that they could never hold me back and that they made me a better super, a better person. But all I could do was watch as they stood and walked out of my dorm, taking our one and a half year relationship with them.

#jordan li x reader #jordan li imagine #black!reader

[moonlightpetalz6]

When You're Gone (Part 2)

Characters: Toji Fushiguro, Ryomen Sukuna, Choso

Reader: Fem!reader

Warnings: Angst, readers death, violence, blood, swearing, pet names, fire

Context: The reader ends up dying due to sorcerers, and villagers. This is their reaction after you are gone. (Witch!reader for Sukuna)

Word Count: 4,677

a/n: Sorry this took a bit to post! I really got into writing these three!

Part 1

______________________________________________________________

Toji

Toji sighed as he walked into the abandoned building where he was supposed to meet with Shiu. 'What a pain.' Toji thought, interested in something other than what Shiu had to discuss with him. Toji was considering skipping the meeting altogether if it wasn't for you. Toji smirked at the thought of your shy smile, ready to hear your sweet voice scold him for zoning out while your colleague was trying to discuss business with him. The memory brings a slight chuckle to his throat as he places a hand behind his neck, letting out a loud yawn as he notices Shiu standing there. Alone. 

Toji hums, stopping a few paces in front of the detective. "Hm? What, did little Miss Tiger decide to skip out on us today?" He teased, knowing you hated the nickname he had assigned you due to your stern personality. Shiu just stared at the assassin with a sad look as he sighed deeply, taking the cigarette out of his mouth. "That's actually why I called you out today…." He tossed the cigarette on the ground, Toji watching as he stomped it with his foot. "As of three days ago, Y/l/n Y/n was killed in her home by a wanted sorcerer she had was assigned to," Shiu said while making direct eye contact with Toji. 

"What?" Toji asked, his eyes narrowing as a frown adorned his face. Shiu just sighed, knowing that Toji didn't believe his words. "Y/l/n Y/n is dead." Toji's fists clenched as he went and roughly grabbed Shiu by the collar, his face inches from the detectives. "Quit yer fucking bullshit and tell me the truth. Cause I ain't finding this joke funny." Toji growled, his neck flexing as a vein appeared on his right temple. Shiu didn't back down as he stared at Toji with serious eyes. Toji clicks his tongue as he tosses Shiu away before turning on his heel to leave the building. "Fushiguro!" Shiu called out, not having finished everything he wanted to say to the assassin. Toji ignored him as he pulled his phone out angrily, dialing your number and pressing it to his ear, waiting for your voice to pick up on the other end. 

The number you have dialed is not available; please-

Toji cursed quickly, hanging up the phone as he continued to call your number multiple times. "Fucking brat answer the phone." He hissed, walking past numerous people on the streets. Just as Toji was about to call you again, he caught a glimpse of a familiar face from the corner of his eye. Toji stopped in place, his phone now resting at his side still open as he stared at the TV inside a small store. There was a news channel with a small picture of you with the caption, 'Local woman found dead in her apartment. Cause of death: a giant hole through the chest.' Toji's mouth opened slightly, his eyes wide in disbelief. 

Once your picture was no longer on the screen, Toji cursed to himself as he quickly returned home. Once home, Toji slammed the door as hard as he could, not even bothering to turn on the lights before throwing everything in his line of sight, trashing his apartment as he yelled multiple curses. 

_____

Days have passed since Toji was hit with the news of your horrible death. Your funeral was two days later, but Toji never went. He refused, thinking that if he went and saw your name on one of those damned stones, every person he came in contact with would be killed on sight. It wasn't like the two of you had been dating for long, about a year, to be exact. Toji had many girlfriends and flings before meeting you, so he never cared when they would turn up missing or disappear without anyone knowing. However, when it came to you, it was different. What Toji felt for you was similar to when he lost his wife. 

Toji sat on the floor of his apartment; broken items littered the room as the lights remained off. A slight glow lit up the room as Toji saw his phone ringing. He lifted it to see Shiu's contact appear on the screen. Growling in annoyance, he flipped the phone on, pressing it to his ear. "What?" He snapped his voice slightly horse from having yelled so much before. "You sound awful. Have you been taking care of yourself at all?" Toji groans as he presses his thumb and pointer finger to his eyes. He applies pressure as he rubs them, feeling how tired his eyelids are as the dark circles slightly appear from the phone's light. "Get to the point. I'm in no mood." He grumbled while pulling another cigarette from his pocket. 

"You weren't at Y/n's funeral." Shiu was blunt and to the point, causing Toji to grunt as he placed the stick between his lips. "So what? I don't need to make an appearance around people who I never fucking saw once around her." He spat while patting his pockets to find his lighter. It wasn't entirely an excuse. When Toji and you started dating, he had never met anyone who claimed to care for you. Shiu didn't say anything momentarily, causing Toji to furrow his brows in annoyance. "Anything else?" He growled, not wanting to be on the phone any longer. "We're still looking for the man who killed her. I promise Toji he will be found and punished." Shiu claimed with total confidence. Toji's eyes narrowed as he listened to those words; scoffing, he tried lighting the cigarette. "Oh, you're damn right he will be…. I'm going to fucking kill him. That's my promise." Before Shiu can say anything else, Toji hangs up, tossing the phone randomly. 

Toji sits there; brows furrowed in annoyance as he flicks at the lighter, growing increasingly agitated with it not working. "Tch. Fucking useless-!" Toji goes to throw the lighter but stops when he notices what one is in his hand. He freezes, staring at the small item, remembering when you had given it to him as a gift. 

____

You and Toji were out discussing business when it suddenly started to rain down, causing the two of you to get soaked as you ran for cover. The two of you sigh as you watch the rain fall from where you now stand, soaking wet. "Geez! The forecast said nothing about rain!" You whined angrily, scrolling through your phone as you double-checked the weather. Toji grunted as he ran a hand through his hair, watching the water droplets fly off. "I should've packed an umbrella…." You whispered in thought, brows furrowed, a slight pout on your lips. Toji internally chuckled, finding your expressions amusing. 

You were always frowning or having some angry tick whenever something didn't go as planned, or you would get mad, which caused him to love teasing you every chance he could. "Well~ well~ it looks like miss organized and plans ahead failed once again~" He teased, a sly grin on his face as he went and pulled out a cigarette. You looked at him, eye twitching as he placed it between his lips. He looks down at you curiously before grinning, one brow raised. "Got something to say, tiger?" He questioned, raising his lighter. You click your tongue, looking away from him. "As if I would have anything to say to such a rude man!" You scoffed, earning a chuckle. 

It went silent between the two of you. The only sounds heard were the falling rain and the clicking of Toji's lighter. You glanced up, noticing the annoyed look on the taller man's face as he grunted, trying to get it to light. The two of you stood like that momentarily before you thought of something. “One moment, Fushiguro! I'll be right back!" You announced suddenly, running to the convenience store across the street. Toji stood there, confused momentarily, before trying the lighter again. After a few more tries, he curses, tossing the small contraption to the ground and taking the cigarette out of his mouth. 

He watches the convenience store waiting for your small form to appear in the doors. When you finally come out, he takes notice of the umbrella in your hand as You quickly run across the street, standing in front of him again. You look at him, a small pant leaving your lips as you hold your fist out to him. He looks at you curiously but complies, holding one of his giant hands out for you. You place the lighter in his hand, surprising him with the sudden gesture. "You didn't have to do that tiger." He mumbled but still went and used the lighter for his cigarette, nodding in approval. 

You just laughed, placing a hand behind your neck as you smiled, a slight blush on your cheeks. "Well, consider it as my apology gift to you!" You laughed shyly. "Apology? For what?" He mumbled, leaning back against the building under which you both had taken shelter. You just smiled a bright smile, a blush coating your cheeks as you held a finger up to your lips as if telling him not to spill a secret. 

"For forming a crush on you of course!" 

_____

Toji sat there, eyes covered by his messy bangs as he gripped the lighter. "Damn tiger…" He cursed as he forcefully tried to flick the lighter on again, this time not stopping as his body began to shake. “Fuck Y/n….” He looked up with tears running down his face as he bit the cigarette as hard as he could. 

"Come back and declare your love for me over and over again, dammit." 

Sukuna

You were known as the witch of the woods. No one entered those woods fearing being cursed or killed in horrible, gruesome ways. However, that was far from the truth, as you were a sweet and docile woman who only wished to heal and create with your magic. You and Sukuna had first met when he had entered the woods in search of your magical abilities. When he showed up at your small hut in the woods, you were surprised, not by his fearful appearance but by his giant wound in his side, causing immense amounts of blood to gush out. Sukuna watched you quickly drop the items you were holding as you ran to him, your small frame inches from his intimidating one. He flinched as you placed your tiny hands around the wounded area, eyes scanning the injury with deep concentration. 

Sukuna frowned at you, not liking how you didn't cower in his presence or even acknowledge his fearful appearance. He roughly grabbed your hand with one of his own, pulling it up so you were forced to look up at his face, each eye holding a murderous glare. "Oi, pitiful witch of the woods. Who do you think you are to approach me like this?" He hissed, a voice filled with venom. You just looked at his eyes, showing no fear as you said nothing. You went and placed a hand on his wound, chanting in a language he was not familiar with. 

Sukuna watched as the wound healed faster than he could regenerate it. He hummed in amusement while looking down at you with a dark smirk. You just looked at him, your aura tense and powerful. "I am not afraid of curses." You declared a voice so elegant it made his ears ring. He laughed loudly, causing you to flinch at the sudden noise covering one of your ears in pain. Sukuna pulls you closer to him, faces inches apart as he looks at you with a deranged smile. "You're such an amusing witch of the woods…. It makes me want to play with you more before ending your pathetic and weak life." He laughed, looking deep into your eyes. 

Sukuna became enthralled by your talents, watching you cast spells he didn't know or ever heard of. You taught him some of the magic you knew over time, informing him of the repercussions of some of the spells. He would listen carefully, wanting to know everything if it meant his chances of gaining even more power. The two of you were complete opposites, so it was strange how you became so close. You never understood why a man filled with nothing but murderous and selfish intent could ever want with someone like you who wished for peace and never had any selfish desire. 

"We don't share much in common, do we?" Sukuna grunted one day when the two of you sat outside. You looked at him, tilting your head as you continued to mix some herbs for a new medicine you were working on. "You're just realizing this now, Sukuna-san." Your laugh was so soft that it made Sukuna feel a tingle in his chest. "Tch. Do you finally want to die?" He grumbled, giving you a slight glare as he flicked your forehead, his other arms crossed over his chest while the fourth one scratched the back of his head. You whine as you hold your forehead, a giant pout on your face. "So weak." He teased, "Like I said, not much in common." He shrugged, looking away from you to stare at the setting sun. 

"Indeed, we don't share much in common, but….there is one thing we will have until the day comes when we die." You whispered while placing a hand out towards the setting sun with a sad look on your face. "Oh? And what would that be?" Sukuna hummed, interested in your words, as he glanced down at you in wonder. Though small, Sukuna could see the sad and lonely smile on your lips. "The world'll hate us…never to be accepted for what we are." Your words took a moment to sink in for Sukuna. He hummed, his expression unreadable. 

Suddenly, he was placing both his right arms towards the sunset like you. "Even if that's true… I'll always accept you for what you are." He mumbled. Your eyes widened as you looked up at him, lips slightly parted. He made no effort to look at you as his eyes stayed fixed on the changing colors in the sky. "Sukuna-san…" you felt your heart racing as heat started to sneak onto your face. Suddenly, he looked at you with an annoyed look, brows furrowed in confusion and annoyance as he went and hit your head. "Also, who the hell do you think will be dying?! Damn stupid witch!" He yelled, causing you to cry while he just shoved the herbs you had been mixing down your throat. 

_______

The king of curses couldn't believe his eyes and ears as he stood in place, body in complete shock. Down below him was a village just outside the woods he had grown to call home. There, in the center of said village, stood a huge crowd of angry and fearful villagers, each one cheering or chanting multiple curses into the air as they looked at the giant fire that rose into the sky, turning the once beautiful sunset view into a clouded gray sky. However, it wasn't the villagers that were causing the fear in Sukuna's heart and soul. Oh no. It was the screams of his lover, whose shadow was seen thrashing within the flames tied to a giant pole. 

"Stop it! Please! What did I do wrong?! Please tell me!" You cried from the flames. Sukuna's fists started dripping blood as all the blood vessels in each of his eyes burst. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" You apologized to the villagers who relished in your pain and your suffering. He was seeing red. Before anyone could process anything, Sukuna was brutally murdering every one of the villagers, ensuring they didn't die without immense pain. His shouts and feral laughter were the last thing to curse their ears. Soon, the village was nothing more than a blood bath. Sukuna stood there, blood dripping from every part of his body as he looked down at the burnt body in front of him. 

He doesn't say anything as he kneels carefully, picking up your body with all four arms staying there, making sure your body is as close as possible to his as he grits his teeth before screaming into the sky cursing the entire world. 

_____

"Hey Sukuna, do you believe in soulmates?" You asked while reading from that mysterious book of yours. "Huh? Soulmates? I know I joke about you being stupid but I'm starting to think that you really are." He said, looking at you annoyed. You frown at him going and whispering a small spell, causing the tea he was drinking to spray up while he went to take a sip. You stand there, mouth covered with one hand, trying to hold your laughs back.

Meanwhile, Sukuna gave you the most sadistic look you could ever imagine, tea dripping from his face. "Y/n~" He sang in a deadly tune. You cringe as you cower in the corner, waving your hands in front of you frantically. 

"SUKUNA IT WAS A JOKE!" You cried while he stood there cracking his knuckles, a dark aura surrounding him. "I just wanted to see if you would help me with this old spell I found!" You squealed, bracing yourself for what was to come. When nothing happened, you peeked from behind your fingers. "Eh?" You asked confused. Sukuna just stood there looking down at you with a curious expression. "An old spell?" He questioned, bending down to your height and tilting his head in thought. "About soulmates?" You nod "mhm!" "You want to see if we're soulmates?" You nod proudly, arms crossed over your chest. Sukuna smirks as he watches his words slowly process for you. A deep blush covers your cheeks as you stammer over your words, trying to defend yourself while he laughs, finding the situation amusing. He rests his head on one of his fists as he crouches before you. "Then do it." He said, a cocky smirk on his face. "I wanna see…if you're my soulmate witch of the woods." You blushed tears from embarrassment in the corners of your eyes as you looked away quickly, getting everything you needed for the spell. Sukuna didn't move; he just stayed in place, watching you place all the items in front of him before sitting on the other side. 

"Okay! Ready?" You ask, a shy smile on your face. Sukuna hums, holding an arm out as he pricks some skin, watching the drop of blood fall into the bowl. You carefully do the same thing, neither of you saying a word. "How will we know?" He mumbles, not looking away from the bowl. "According to the spell, if you're soulmates, then both of you will suddenly have-!" You stop noticing the black tattoos form on your wrists along with others. You quickly looked up at Sukuna, seeing the same thing happen to him, only his markings were slightly different. The two of you stare at each other in shock. "...markings…" You whispered, a slight blush on your cheeks. Sukuna stares at you, eyes still slightly wide, before kissing you deeply. 

You squeak, feeling his hands start to feel up and down your body, not in a lustful way but in what feels like a devoted one. "My soulmate…my witch of the woods…your soul belongs only to me." He whispered, kissing up your neck before reaching your lips. You just giggled while placing your hand on his cheek, a soft smile on your face. "Sukuna-san…thank you for allowing me your soul… it's my greatest treasure."

______

"OI! SUKUNA!" Sukuna slowly opened his eyes, staring at the bottom of his throne. 'Ah, that's right…the kid is crying about helping that damn friend of his…tch. Not my fault he got his soul changed.' Sukuna thought, uninterested in what Yuji yelled at him. He just sighed before noticing a small tear falling from his eye. He swipes it away while looking at the markings on his wrist. He smiled a small smile, something that no one in the world would ever see besides one person, and she was gone. Sukuna placed a gentle kiss on the tattoos. 

"My soul yearns for you my Queen…my soul…one that only you can have and touch…my Y/n…" 

Choso

Choso fell against the wall, tears streaming down his face as he stared at the flower, eyes wide in shock. His mouth opened to scream, cry, yell, but nothing came out. He grips both sides of his head and slowly shakes it before squeezing his eyes shut, the tears appearing to get worse. Choso opens his eyes, glancing to his left to see the broken pieces of what was once a cursed item that informed him of your well-being. The two of you decided to get them when Choso started to fear for your safety after the deaths of his two younger brothers. He remembers your gentle smile as you happily agreed to his request, telling him you would do anything to ensure his mind was at ease. 

When he processed the broken pieces once again, signaling that you were no longer in this world with him, Choso snapped, his eyes practically rolling back as he screamed until it felt like his lungs would tear from his chest. "Why?! Why?! I don't understand why she was only gone for two days!" He screamed to himself while rolling around on the floor like a madman, the tears never-ending. First, his brothers and now his lover, all three gone from his side within a blink. "How could I fail to protect my family?!" Choso felt his fingers dig into the flesh of his face, tiny beads of blood appearing here and there. "Y/n! Y/n!" Choso reached for the broken pieces, his body soon becoming still as he grits his teeth, his eyes leaking tears. 

"My beautiful sweet bleeding heart…tell me it's a lie…you said you would be right back by my side." Choso sobbed as he held the broken cursed object to his chest while staring at the night sky. Choso's mind runs wild as he asks himself so many questions about your death. 'Was she scared? Did she suffer? Was it peaceful? Did they torture you? Did you cry? Smile? Were you lonely? Did you wish for him to save you?' all these thoughts ran through his head as he cried into the night. After some time, Choso quieted down, slowly rising to his feet as he stomped to his family's home, your home, no, to his home. He said nothing, his eyes void of any light as he lifted his head to the sky like a zombie, watching as snow started to fall. 'It's so cold tonight, Y/n….' He thought his hand subconsciously opened as if ready to take another's smaller one.  

_______

"Choso! Can I have a hug?!" You cheered, standing before your cursed boyfriend with a giant smile as you held your arms wide open. Choso just looked at you from his seat, tilting his head in confusion. "But didn't I just give you one five minutes ago?" he asked, not understanding why you wanted another one. You smile at him, slightly jumping in your step as you lean forward, arms still open, awaiting his embrace. "So?! What if I want to hug you every five minutes? You hurt me, my blood lotus." you whispered a slight pout on your cheeks. Choso flinches as he quickly goes and wraps you in his loving embrace. "I could never dream of such a thing. Me? Hurt you? I would rather die my bleeding heart." He whispers while inhaling the smell of your shampoo you knew he loved. 

"I love everything about you, my sweet flower." he caressed your cheek, a tiny blush on his cheeks as he avoided eye contact, still too embarrassed. You just giggled as you wrapped your arms around his neck when he went to pull away from the hug. You hum, pressing your forehead to his as you force him to look into your eyes. You smile, eyes as bright as the day he met you. "Your eyes are so beautiful…" You whispered, gently placing the pads of your thumbs onto his dark circles, giving a small massage to the flesh. Choso lets out a small moan of approval as he carefully caresses one of your wrists with his fingers barely grazing your skin. "My bleeding heart…" You watched as Choso placed tender kisses on your wrist, his eyes glancing at you with much love and admiration. 

"Does this makeup for me hurting you earlier? Or do you wish for more?" He whispered, his thumb slowly dragging down your bottom lip, causing you to blush at his sudden boldness as you quickly jumped away, hiding your face. "T-that's perfectly fine! I'm already way better! I promise!" You stumble over your words, causing a gentle smile to caress Choso's face. "I adore you." He whispered honestly. "I-I get it!" you cried, covering his mouth with your hands. He laughs, loving how cute you are being. Choso pushes back a strand of your hair once you remove your hands from his mouth. "There's just one thing I'll never understand," he confessed, ensuring that you looked presentable when you had to go outside on your next assignment. "Hm? What is it?" You asked, tilting your head as you interlocked your fingers with his. "This," he confessed, gesturing to your hands holding one another. 

"You always want to hug or touch me in some way almost every second of the day. I am not complaining, of course…as I love you and…" he trailed off, growing shy at his words before clearing his throat. "I guess I just don't get why that is all." He admitted with a slight nod. You hum a smile as you lean back slightly, tilting your head to the side, eyes closed in thought. "Well…I guess it's because…for me I feel like if I don't keep touching you, you'll disappear from my side forever. So I want to ensure you're still with me in this world, Choso." You confessed this time using his name instead of your chosen nickname for him. Choso blushes before smiling as he lets out a tiny laugh while going to ruffle your hair. 

"Haha! You're so silly! I'll really never understand you Y/n." he confessed lovingly. You just looked up at him with your biggest smile, a deep blush on your cheeks as you placed a kiss on his lips. "I love you so, so much my bloody Lotus!" You cheered, and Choso could practically see just how pure and true your love for him was while looking into your eyes. 

_______

Choso stood in the doorway of your once-shared bedroom. His drained facial expression scanned the entire area, ensuring he took everything in, wanting to remember this room with all your shared belongings for the rest of his life. Choso lays down on the shared bed, making sure he curls up into a bawl as he shakily reaches for your pillow and your side of the blanket, bringing both pieces of fabric next to him, squeezing like they, too, would vanish from his grasp. Choso inhales your scent, tears falling from his face, drenching your once favorite pillow as he shoves his face into it, not wanting to forget your smell once it no longer remains in the place you two called home. 

"I wish you were here, my bleeding heart…I want to feel you next to me…I need you next to me." Choso cries, his entire body shaking as his mind fails to accept what has happened. Guilt soon fills his heart as he lets out a heart-wrenched sob, squeezing his eyes closed. "I'm sorry I didn't always hug and touch you whenever you were near me…maybe if I did…would you not have disappeared from my side Y/n? Are you gone because of me?" 

______________________________________________________________

A/n: I hope you all enjoyed part 2! I can't wait to create more for you all!

#jjk x y/n #jujutsu kaisen #jjk fanfic #jjk x reader #jjk #jjk toji #toji fushiguro #choso #jjk choso #jjk sukuna #sukuna #ryomen sukuna #choso x reader #jjk angst #sukuna x reader #sukuna x y/n #choso x y/n #toji x y/n #jjk x fem!reader #fem reader #fanfic #fanfiction

[radiant-reid]

omg cate the dad bod!spencer post😭 could u please write smth about that but like, not him being insecure about it because i see that all the time! but him using his new weight and filled out form to pin his gf/wife on the bed, face down and just breed her <3

i was a couple mojitos deep when i wrote this

Spencer Reid is so hot.

It's the only thing you're thinking about while he's undressing in the walk-in wardrobe without the door closed, leaving so many beautiful inches of his body to your sight.

The heat inside you is definitely his fault.

"Did you see Belle's art this morning?" He asks as he walks through the door, looking absolutely delectable, only dressed in pants that hang low around his hips.

"Mhm." You mumble, pretending to be reading your book.

Spencer catches you ogling him. It would be practically impossible not to, especially for a profiler who has lived with you for years. "What's your pretty little brain thinking about?" He walks closer to the bed slowly.

"You." It's the honest truth that he knows, and there's not much else to say.

His gloating grin grows as he walks across the room to the foot of the bed, climbing on and crawling up the bed. It gives you the perfect view of his body, where his chest is softer now, his stomach protrudes more, and he's filled out. It's so attractive. Your legs fall open under the covers, letting him stop in between them.

"Yeah? What do you want with me, baby?" He asks.

"Spencer, don't." You hit him on the shoulder, predictably shying away from telling him what you want. "You know what I want."

"Tell me." He growls.

You glide your palm down his chest, stopping at the waistband of his pajama pants. "Another baby." You say before you can help it, which is not the answer either of you expected.

He doesn't flinch at the confession, his eyes darkening. He leans in to meet your lips for a quick kiss. "You're serious?"

"Very serious." You assure him. "We can handle two, right?"

Spencer doesn't miss a beat in nodding. "Yes." He answers. "No more discussion needed."

He works quickly once you nod, grabbing your hips and flipping you over. You pull the covers off, lifting your ass off the bed and pressing your hips against his, where you can feel the evidence of how much he wants you.

"Needy, baby." He coos, hands gliding up under your tank. His wide palms press into your sides while his gorgeous long fingers spread across your stomach.

“Could say the same thing about you.” You bite back, reaching behind yourself and making contact with the hard length in his pants. “Did I do this?”

He groans as you touch him, easily being distracted from getting you undressed. “You’re the only person in the world that can do this.” He tells you lowly.

“Prove it, Spence.” You request, challenging him. “Put a baby in me.”

It acts like an accelerant to the fire inside him and in one swift move, your sleeping shorts are being tugged down you legs, flung across the room.

“First time last time, you know?” He reminds you, still feeling cocky about it. “Think I can do it again? Because I know I can.”

You scoff, determined to tease him to ensure you get the best sex possible. “You’ve got no way of knowing if it was the first time.”

It’s true that you don’t technically know since back then you were having sex so much your daughter could have been convinced on a number of occasions, but you’re both confident it was the first time.

Where you’re expecting words from him, you get actions first. His weight pins you to the bed as his hips rest on top of yours, and it makes you let out a moan without him even touching you. “Wanna try that again?” He offers.

You shake your head into the pillows. “Stop teasing.” You scold when he slots his thigh between your thighs, softly brushing your dripping core with his pant leg.

“You know I’ll always give you what you want.” He promises. He draws his thumb through your wet folds, making you moan as he hums in satisfaction. “Warm up round?” He offers.

Adamantly, you shake your head. “For round two. I need you inside me now.”

He does what you ask, lining himself up and gliding into you in one swift motion. “Fuck.” He groans instantly. You can’t see him put you know that he’s throwing his head back in pleasure.

“Feels so good.” You agree.

It’s not just his cock hitting inside you at the perfect angle. It’s how good he feels on top of you, how his gorgeous body molds so perfectly onto yours.

You muffle your loud moans in the pillow, absolutely not wanting to get caught and have to stop the intense pleasure all over your body.

“God, I want to put a baby in you so badly.” He groans, on hand sneaking back under your tank to touch your nipples.

“Do it.” You plead, rolling your hips against his when he thrusts fully inside you.

He dips his head so his breath is right against your neck before starting to kiss your skin. He speeds up, pounding his hips against yours each time.

“Spencer!” You moan out his name followed by a trail of expletives.

“I know, baby. I know.” He coos softly against your ear. “Touch yourself.” He prompts and you struggle slightly under his weight to draw your fingers to your clit. “Help me make you cum.”

You’re over the edge in seconds, pleasure waves pulsing through you and all your senses focusing on how good it feels.

“Fill me up, Spence.” You beg, tangling your hand in his hair.

He pants against your neck as he stills, releasing cum deep inside of you while he moans out your name.

He falls forward onto you, slightly sweaty chest sticking to you, as you both come down from your highs together. His weight grounds you and it’s warm like being hugged by him.

“That was so good.” You declare, catching your breath.

He nods in agreement. “Love any chance I get to fill you up.” He kisses your shoulder. “And make more perfect babies with you.”

“I just love you.”

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid blurb #spencer reid smut #criminal minds smut #criminal minds

[oh-katsuki]

The Inbetween (Tendou x Reader)

masterlist | ao3

Pairing: Tendou x Reader

Summary: You and Tendou have been best friends since before you can remember. You share everything with each other and over the years have fallen into a friendship with clear boundaries but intimate values. When you start to notice Tendou growing more distant, you begin to worry that he’s keeping more secrets than you thought. 

"Tendou gets like this sometimes. He grows quiet for a few moments as if he is weighing something in his mind. You can see the inquisitive look in his eyes and every now and then, his bottom lip will bounce and it will tell you that he’s thinking about something. In these moments, you’re never quite sure what he’s thinking. You’ve never been able to tell and you’ve reserved yourself to thinking that it is not meant for you or for anyone else."

Content Warnings:  fem!reader (gender neutral pronouns but there is a line that references you as his girlfriend), it does include manga spoilers since this takes place after they graduate high school, slow burn, childhood friends to lovers, angst in the middle,  miscommunication, smut, fingering, oral (f!receiving), orgasm denial (just once), teasing, minor minor cockwarming (he lets it sit there for a little lol), there's no real mention of protection

Word Count: 25.8k (lol)

A/N: I decided not to break this fic up because I wrote it intending for it to be one piece. It ended up way longer than i thought it would be. I'm posting it all here, but I would def recommend reading it on ao3 if you prefer!!! i'm a little nervous about this one. i really struggled while i was writing it. i love him so bad tho... he's always a joy to write <333 hopefully i didn't miss too many typos. anyway, its finally here lol so i hope u enjoy <3

You think that there are periods of your life where growing pains become impossible to ignore. The change tends to hurt. Like rebreaking a bone to help it heal correctly. When you’re 8 and in bed, unable to sleep because your legs ache somewhere deep in your bones. When you’re 16 and you can’t seem to ever feel like something really fits, like you’re not doing a good enough job at being good enough. 

Sometimes, they’re agonizing. The steady roll of dull pain that you can’t quite pinpoint, sending you anxious and aching in a way you can’t quite verbalize. 

Sa-to-ri: U wanna get drunk tonight? 

You: Not particularly. 

Sa-to-ri: k

Tendou shows up at your apartment forty-five minutes later with two bottles of wine. He lets himself in, holding the both of them in one hand, his long fingers curled around the necks of the bottles. It looks assured but precarious and you watch as he shoves his keys back into his pocket, takes a bottle in each hand, and kicks your front door shut with a flat foot. 

“Thought I told you I didn’t wanna drink tonight?” You call from the couch, craning your neck to face him. 

Tendou is looking at his shoes as he slips them off, watching as he goes heel to toe and slides them past the curve of his foot. Then, he tilts his head up and looks at you with a lazy grin. He’s at ease here, padding into your house. 

He has a particular gait about him. When Tendou walks, he sways side to side as if the length of his limbs is too much to control and his head tends to follow. He leans one way and then the other, confident in his step but wobbling nonetheless. If you had to compare him to anything, it would be a more confident version of one of those floppy blue pillars that jerk back and forth at car sales on TV. You’re not sure what they’re called, but Tendou’s step reminds you of them. 

“I know you well enough to know that you’re a liar, you borderline alcoholic, you.” He smiles, sitting down on the couch beside you with a grunt and passing you one of the bottles. 

“No glasses?” You quirk a brow. 

“Absolutely not.” He twists the lid of the wine bottle off and tilts the spout towards you. Tendou always buys cheap wine so that you never have to worry about uncorking it. “Cheers.” 

You roll your eyes, twisting the lid off of your own bottle and clink the neck of it against his. It gives a high-pitched click when you do, the sound short and succinct with how full the bottles are. 

“Cheers.” 

“Can we watch Evangelion?” He asks almost immediately, leaning forward to reach for the remote in your hand. 

“Jesus, what on earth makes you want to get drunk and watch Evangelion?” You hold it away from his grabbing hand. “Are you insane?” 

Tendou chuckles, “I think it would be interesting.” 

“I think it sounds stupid. You’re just asking for an identity crisis.” You roll your eyes, setting the remote down on the other side of you. 

You bring the bottle of wine to your lips. It’s a Moscato, overly sweet and the slightest bit fizzy. Tendou likes these kinds of wines. The ones that don’t taste like alcohol at all. He watches as you sip it before bringing his own bottle to his lips, curling them around the spout of it and taking a long pull from the bottle. 

You’ve known Tendou since you were 13 and he’s always been like this. He likes sweets, anything with enough sugar to make a normal person pull a face. He likes weird music, the kind that makes him the least eligible person to be in control of music on long car rides. He hates tomatoes but forces himself to eat them anyway because it “builds character” and he never fails to treat it like he’s suffering through some great trauma.

Tendou, for as long as you’ve known him, has always been like a breath of fresh air after a long day inside. Either that or loud music emanating from a comically small car. 

“How’s your boyfriend?” He asks, taking another sip. 

“Dead.” 

“For real?” 

“To me,” you finish, rolling your head to the side and looking at him. 

Tendou huffs, leaning further back into the seat. “Need a shoulder to cry on?” 

“No, he was a cunt.” 

“I’ll drink to that,” he raises his bottle as if to salute someone far away and brings it to his mouth again. “How long did this one last?” 

“A month,” you heave a sigh. 

“New record,” Tendou chuckles to himself. 

“What is wrong with me?” You swallow a large sip, exhaling as you do. “It’s like- It’s like I’m just dicking around!” 

“Well, are you?” 

“No!” You rub your palms into your eyes. “I mean, I find a guy, I go out with him, and then… I lose interest or he turns out to be a total tool.” 

“Or married,” Tendou adds, taking another sip. 

“Or married,” You confirm, following suit. 

“I knew you wanted to drink.” Tendou gives you a wry grin. The corners of his lips pull up pleasantly and his voice takes on a lower and more knowing tone. 

“Shush, it’s only ‘cause you’re doing it.” 

“Peer pressure really works wonders.” 

You smile, scoffing lightly as you pull the bottle from your lips. It pops when you do, pressure releasing from how you’d been sipping.

Tendou offers you a smile, the kind that you’re so familiar with that it aches. He rolls his head across his shoulders, letting it rest on the back of the couch cushions. 

“Maybe you just haven’t found the right person for you.” He says, half to himself as he lifts the bottle. 

“Maybe.” You agree, “or maybe I’m just eternally cursed. Maybe I’ve got a rotten bloodline.” 

His eyes slink across his lower waterline to look at you. 

“I doubt that.” He laughs and you can’t help but smile. 

Tendou has a certain way about him. If you know him well enough, he is reassuring to the point of relaxation. He never fails to comfort you in moments of need, winding you down on days you feel particularly tight. 

He seems like someone who knows everything. Tendou feels like he’s got it all figured out and when you talk to him he maintains a certain confident air that is pleasant to be around. Sometimes it feels like Tendou knows you better than you know yourself and you’re grateful that at least someone does. He maintains that particular aura about him and you think that it belongs to him like it does no other. 

Tonight he seems particularly mellow, lounging comfortably on your couch. You eventually give in to Tendou, resigning yourself to watching Evangelion with him, and he seems content to just sit beside you and watch. 

His arm is tossed over the back of the couch, the other nursing the half-empty bottle of wine. You follow the line of it with your eyes, lingering for a moment on the curve of his knuckles, flushed pink against the pale color of his skin. 

You follow his fingers, admiring the ways his skin is pulled taut over them. They’re long like he is, spanning the entire top of the couch cushion short ways. His wrists are thinner, the bones of his fingers coming to connect nicely where his lower arm meets his hand. You admire the even quality of his skin, following the lines of lean muscle up to his shoulder. Muscle and sinew form a trail up his arm, tucking itself away under the sleeve of his sweatshirt where it hides until the fabric meets the delicate skin of his collarbones. You watch his neck, his pronounced Adam’s apple bobbing slightly when he swallows at particularly nerve-wracking scenes. Still, he keeps a slight smirk on his face. It’s like he’s glad to just be here, eyes low-lidded as he peers at the TV.

By the top hem of his sweatshirt, you can see the beginnings of his collarbones and you know that beneath it, he is hiding an evenly toned chest. You can imagine the familiar dip and curve of his abdomen, his pale, almost sallow, skin stretched evenly over it. Tendou is all lean muscle. He’s built tall and long and you’ve seen the somewhat toned physique he hides beneath the thick cloth of the red sweatshirt. Still, you know that to the touch he is soft. Tendou has some give to him from the sweets he eats so regularly but, like the rest of him, you think it is beautiful. 

You follow the trail to his neck where he has a few freckles, three to be exact. One sits above his collarbone, the other on the tendon that connects his neck to his head, and the third just below his ear, covered right now by his dark red hair which collects around his neck. It’s as if the sun deliberately placed them there, dotting up the fine muscle as if it were Orion’s Belt glimmering across the winter and spring sky. 

His hair is at his shoulders now, unruly and almost unmanageable on most mornings. At the moment, it sits delicately just above his shoulders, collecting in what looks like pools on either side of them. Normally, Tendou ties it up to keep it out of his face. Tonight, he’s keeping it down, letting the wavy tufts of dark hair hide the blushing nape of his neck from you, red from the wine. 

Tendou’s face is long, you follow the trail his neck makes to his cheekbones. They’re high, complimenting his somewhat soft jaw nicely. His cheeks maintain a delicate pink tone, barely visible unless you look closer but aided tonight by the flush of wine. When he’s embarrassed, this quality shines red regardless. Tendou, in his more shy moments, lights up like a switchboard. 

Just above his cheekbones, Tendou sports light under eye bags. They are partially from being tired, but you also know that they are owed simply to the quality of his face. Tendou has distinct upper eyelids. They crease heavily when his eyes are open and you’d almost describe them as somewhat hawk-like if it weren’t for their round nature. 

Tendou stays up late at night. His job as a bartender keeps him working until the early hours of the morning and you know from texts he’s sent you that he takes a few hours after to unwind before going to bed. Sometimes he’ll play games, spurred on by Kenma’s gaming channel, but he always loses interest in them after a few weeks. Tendou keeps his interests and hobbies short and sweet, though you don’t think that diminishes their value to him. No, in fact, you think that it means that Satori has a lot of things that he loves. Still, this latest love of his has contributed to the dark under eyes he seems to sport around the clock. 

Part of you knows that’s just how he looks, but the other part thinks that if he went to bed earlier, that quality would lessen. You’ll never tell him that though. You quite like that quality of his. It’s distinctive, as most of his features are. 

Then, you shift your gaze down to his mouth. Tendou has a thin upper lip which—when combined with his all-knowing eyes—makes him look a little scary. His bottom lip, however, is full and pink. When he’s thinking, it moves slightly. It bounces as if Tendou is rehearsing what he wants to say, running through his thoughts at a mile a minute. You believe it to be endearing and Tendou, who has never been particularly vain, thinks that if you think so, it must be. 

All of these things are things you’ve come to know about Tendou since you met him. You’re accustomed to his body language, comfortable (unlike so many others) with his gait and the way he moves. You think that there is only one other person in the world who is as comfortable with him as you are and that is Ushijima Wakatoshi, someone you both met in high school. He, like you, is someone that Tendou clicks with like a piece of a puzzle. 

He talks to Wakatoshi every night on the phone. They talk about their lives, maybe about girls. Wakatoshi usually just listens though. What Tendou cannot say to you, he says to him and you’re not nosy enough to pry. You’re positive that whatever you need to know, Tendou will tell. When you finally stand and go to the other room to get ready for bed, you can hear him through the thin wall, talking quietly into the phone so as to not disturb your nighttime routine.

You pad between your bedroom and the bathroom, occasionally passing close enough for Tendou to catch you in the corner of his eye. He raises his hand or his eyebrows when that happens, swiveling his head to acknowledge you as he leans back against the couch cushions, one arm thrown over the back and the other holding his phone to his ear. 

The fan hums to life when you flip the light switch in the bathroom. Sometimes you wish they’d be separate switches because when the apartment is quiet the noise is jarring and disorienting, but today the sound is just another addition to the symphony of noise in your home. It whirs softly as you put on a headband and run the sink, letting the water get warm before splashing it up onto your face. 

You take your cleanser, pumping some of it into your hand, and slather it onto your skin in soft circles. The motion is familiar and you feel the way your shoulders relax a little as the cleanser turns white with foam against your skin. When you are ready to rinse, you dip your head down, cupping water in your hands and splashing it onto your face. 

“You always do that so messily,” Tendou chimes from beside you. 

You jump, flinching to the side as you wipe the cleanser from your eyes quickly, “Jesus, you scared me.” 

“Sorry,” he chuckles, leaning against the doorway. 

Tendou is lithe like a cat. He’s long and slender, his body nearly dwarfing the doorway he stands in. His shoulder presses against the white wood and he crosses his arms pleasantly over his chest, hovering just outside of your space. 

He watches with a content smile, eyes half closed as sleep starts to take over him. The corners of his mouth pull up curiously and his eyes follow the movements of your face as you gently rinse it with warm water. Occasionally, he will act like you’ve flicked water on him, raising his shoulder lightly as if to shield himself from it, and you scowl in response. 

“Move over,” he says as he steps around you and nudges your hip with his own. 

Tendou slides in front of the sink beside you, grabbing one of your headbands and using it to push his hair back. It swishes when he does, revealing the rest of his forehead before he takes some water and wets his face. Then, he takes your cleanser and copies your previous movements, scrubbing his face lightly before dipping down and rinsing it. You watch, fighting the heat that bullies its way to your cheeks. 

He’s a lot cleaner at this than you are, cupping the water in his big hands and lowering his face to rinse it. His eyes flutter closed, lashes batting slightly before he pushes his fingers against his skin and then wipes downwards. A few stray drops of water roll down his forearms, following the path his lean muscles make until they drop onto your bathroom counter. For how lanky he is, the movement is strangely graceful and you watch with a tilted head as he repeats the process. It keeps the counters relatively dry and when he’s done, the only evidence of his having washed it at all are the few drops of water on the counter and the clean quality of his skin. 

Tendou peers at you through the corner of his eye, smiling lightly as he stands to his full height and grabs his toothbrush from the holder. He keeps one here now. Given the amount of time he spends here, it only makes sense. 

Sometimes you think that the intimacy the two of you share is too much. Sometimes it is difficult to reconcile that you could be this close to a person but Tendou is someone who begs closeness. No, he demands it. Tendou is as affectionate as he is adoring. Intimacy, be it platonic or romantic, becomes him and though you sometimes worry if things can continue like this, you quickly forget it in favor of simply being close. 

To an outsider, Tendou has the feel of someone very far away. You’ve heard from acquaintances that he seems aloof and somewhat cocky, though you think that only the latter half is true. Tendou is particularly involved, however distanced he may seem. It comes with intimacy. He remembers almost every little thing about the people he loves. Should you visit the same restaurant twice, Tendou remembers what you ordered and if you enjoyed it. Should you be deciding between one shirt or the other, Tendou will recall what you already own and suggest the best possible option. He’s attentive like that. 

“This face wash is new,” he comments, running a knuckle along the side of his cheek as if to feel how effective it is. 

“Yeah, my skin got used to the other,” you shrug your shoulders, popping your toothbrush into your mouth. 

“What does that even mean?” He laughs. Tendou’s voice is warbled through his toothpaste. It sounds thick, the tenor ring of it dropping to a baritone hum through the thick white foam. 

“Dunno,” you shrug, “pretty sure it’s just a wives tale or something but I still believe it.” 

Tendou laughs again, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he leans forward and spits into the sink. You follow suit, waiting for him to pick his head up and continue brushing. The toothbrush looks smaller than usual in his hand, his long fingers curled around it as he guides it over his teeth, spitting for a second time and then reaching for your mouthwash. 

“You sleeping over?” You ask, taking the bottle when he hands it to you. 

Tendou nods his response, swishing the liquid back and forth in his mouth. Then he leans forward and the smell of winter mint hits your nose. Honestly, you don’t much like the taste or smell of it, but you’ve found that it keeps your mouth feeling fresh for the longest. Besides, you don’t mind it as much when it’s on Tendou. For some reason, the smell suits him. 

You’re relieved to find the reprieve of your bed. It hasn’t been a particularly busy day, but the wine is getting to your head. It makes you sleepy and your duvet cover feels far more comfortable than usual. 

Tendou usually sleeps on the bed with you. It’s another facet of the intimacy you share with him. Your bed is large enough to fit the both of you comfortably with a pillow between you, though it almost never stays there the entire night. Both you and Tendou tend to toss around in your sleep and more than once have you woken up with either yours or his body splayed across the other. 

Still, you’re only like this when neither of you is in a relationship. Your friendship has always maintained very clear boundaries. There are unspoken dos and don’ts that accompany the closeness of your friendship. If either of you is dating someone, you wordlessly agree that Tendou sleeps on the couch. It’s a respect thing for both of your sakes, as well as the sakes of your partners. 

“Are you bummed about your breakup?” Tendou asks, facing the ceiling. He’s no doubt watching the fan spin in circles in the dark. You know because you’re doing the same. 

“Not really,” you sigh, “I mean, this might be shitty to say but I really wasn’t all that attached.” 

Tendou shakes his head against the pillow, lacing his fingers together over his chest as he lets out a deep exhale. “Nah, it’s not shitty. That’s natural.” 

“I guess.” 

“Let me know if you do get sad about it, kay?” He says, tilting his head sideways to look at you. 

“You’ll be the first to know.”

You smile lightly at him and Tendou hums his satisfaction. He rolls over in bed with a soft goodnight before the room falls silent. You listen to the sound of his breathing and when it finally comes to an even pace, you smile. Sometimes Tendou struggles to sleep but tonight is not one of those nights. 

You drift off after you are certain that he’s asleep, lamenting to yourself about the potential loss of his characteristic under eyes. Man, Tendou would really rip you a new one for thinking that. 

—

“I like your hair like this,” you comment, reaching up to flip a piece that sits across his cheek. 

Tendou turns to you, watching the way your fingers play with the soft end of it before giving a small laugh and a smile.

“Yeah? I feel like it’s too long,” he hums, looking at you and then to the coffee maker as it hums from its place on the counter. “Think m’gonna cut it soon.” 

“Nah, don’t. It suits you. Kinda devil-may-care, ya know?”

Tendou’s hair is too long by normal standards. It comes down just below his shoulders, falling in thickly layered wisps that frame his face and make it look delicate. Somehow, having his hair around his face softens his features. It gives him a more gentle, off-beat look. 

“Oh? If it makes me look so cool then maybe I won’t,” he glances at you through the corner of his eye, smiling a cat-like smile. 

“I wouldn’t go that far,” you snort, bumping him out of the way as soon as he takes his coffee from the coffee maker. 

Tendou feigns an offended look before leaning against the counter beside him. He looks sleepy, still somewhat tired as he raises his mug to his lips and loudly sips his coffee. It’s always too hot when he takes the first sip but he does every time nonetheless. Tendou says it tastes better that way. 

“By the way,” he starts, pulling the mug to his chest and partially resting it in the dip in his stomach, “I gotta leave right after I finish this.” 

“Work?” 

Behind you, Tendou shifts a little and furrows his brows. “Nah, got some errands to take care of.” 

“‘Kay,” you turn to him, leaning against the counter opposite him. 

Despite Tendou’s affinity for skinship and attention, he is surprisingly independent. 

That’s something you admire about him. Tendou’s actions are sure and calculated and he’s comfortable going off and doing his own thing more often than not. Sure, he’ll invite you with him, but should you opt not to go, Tendou doesn’t let it stop him. He’s fiercely independent and it balances out well in your friendship.

He doesn’t really say anything about where he’s going and you figure that he doesn’t have to. He’ll go off and do his own thing and you will go do yours. 

You and Tendou are quite like-minded, as is Wakatoshi. Perhaps that’s why you all get along so well. When you interact with people, they tend to understand the three of you as independent beings who just so happen to choose to be around the other two. You’ve heard from others that looking at the three of you is like looking at a gaggle of oddities that somehow found themselves magnetic to only each other. Since Wakatoshi moved away though, it has just been you and Tendou and you’re content to be perceived as an odd pair. 

The living room is littered with evidence of your evening with him and you peer out at it from the kitchen, the sunlight from your curtains filtering in and casting a warm glow over the light-colored wood. The more than half-empty bottles of wine sit on the coffee table, their lids placed randomly on the countertop from when you’d tossed them down after opening them. The bottles catch the light from the small glass patio door and the white Moscato inside glimmers in the morning glow. 

When Tendou leaves, he grabs his keys from your kitchen table. They jingle in his grasp and he shakes them to get your attention. 

“I’m leaving now!” He calls even though you’re only a few feet away. 

“Have the day you deserve!” You laugh. 

Tendou swings your apartment door open, his legs leading the way as he keeps his head around the corner so that  he can look at you. You watch as he cracks a smile that spreads from one side of his face to the other, upper lip curling. 

“Sour old bat.” 

“I’m only 24!” You protest as he chuckles and shuts the door behind him. 

You walk to the door, locking it behind him and shaking your head lightly. Briefly, you think about what he might be doing. It could be groceries, though he usually brings you with him, or maybe he needs to service his shitty old car. He never uses it which means that when he does it breaks down easily, but he keeps fixing it nonetheless. Tendou can’t bear to part with the characteristic hunk of junk. 

Tendou works as a bartender. He stands behind the counter in a black dress shirt and black slacks, fixing customers' drinks before pressuring them into buying more. He’s good at selling things because Tendou is a notoriously difficult person to say no to, whether you know him or not. Sometimes you’ll go in and see him, sliding into a seat at the bar and waiting for him to notice you’re there. You usually don’t even make it to the counter before he spots you, giving you an easy smile and tilting his head to the side. 

You suspect that he is only working to make ends meet while he decides what he really wants to do. You always figured it would be volleyball given his gift for it but he told you in the third year of high school that he’d be quitting. It had never been something he was particularly set on doing and though he enjoys the sport, he thought the constant rigor of its training to be tiresome. You understand to a degree. It is very like Tendou to do things only because he wants to. Even Wakatoshi accepted it after a little while, though—in a fashion that is much like Ushijima—he still pushed for Tendou to further his gift with the sport. It was to no avail though, that’s just the way Satori is. 

Still, you’re not sure if there is something in particular that Tendou wants to do. He doesn’t talk much about the future and lately whenever you ask, he waves the question off like he can’t be bothered to think about it. 

He has a plethora of interests and for now, his job suits him. He spends his time talking to people and though he works late into the night, you think that he enjoys the time he gets in the hours after his shift. Besides, during the day it means that Satori gets to bake. It’s an odd hobby for him but he does it regularly enough that it has started to make sense, though you’re not sure if it is a fleeting hobby or one that will stick. Tendou likes to play around with flavor. His eye for new combinations is admirable and it’s not a rare occurrence for you to go over to his place and immediately be fed a new recipe he’s been testing out. 

He is, in general, a hard person to pin down but once you do, you’ve got him memorized for life. It’s not unusual for you to be able to guess what he’s doing, though sometimes he will surprise you and be doing something entirely different. Still, you’re confident enough in what you know about him to know that once he does choose, it will be good for him. Tendou is someone who begets a good and honest future. 

You spend the day tidying around your apartment. You’ve got no particular plans today and with your recent breakup, you’ve no one to really make plans with. In high school, when Tendou was busy without you, you’d often sit with Wakatoshi and watch him practice. You’d listen to the sounds of the ball hitting his palm and then the slap of them on the smooth linoleum of the gym floor. That, or you’d spend your time with the other people you met with the both of them at Nationals, goofing off on the phone while you waited for Tendou to wrap up whatever it was he’s doing and walk home with you.

You’ve been to see them at nationals every year that the two of them have gone. In your third year, Tendou and Wakatoshi did not attend the tournament as players nor spectators, but the three of you sat in Wakatoshi’s room and watched the games together. You recall watching Karasuno fight their way through the ranks until they tasted a bitter loss once the promising first year, Hinata Shoyo, fell ill. Tendou had chided early on into the tournament that he was pushing himself past his limit and Wakatoshi agreed but you didn’t have the eye to see it until he had collapsed on his hands and knees on the court. Still, the three of you sat shoulder to shoulder in front of Wakatoshi’s computer screen, knuckles tight against your thighs. 

Sa-to-ri: shall we grub tonight? 

Your phone lights up sometime around 3 pm and you open it to see Tendou’s distinct contact name light up across the screen. 

You: u miss me? lol

Sa-to-ri: nah

You: what’s on the menu? 

Sa-to-ri: ramen

You: then yeah okay

Tendou has one particular ramen shop that he likes to frequent with you. It’s a bit of a tradition and when you both go there, it is either in work uniforms that make you look silly or house clothes so comfortable they could hardly be considered outfits at all. 

Some nights, you both trudge into the shop, you in the remnants of your work uniform and Tendou fully dressed in his, ready to attend his shift once you finish eating. Tendou wears his black slacks but rolls them to the knees and his black dress shirt is untucked in the front. He looks silly, but you know from visiting him that he always fixes it before he clocks in. You usually wear something business casual to suit your desk job, dress pants and a white shirt of sorts. On other nights, you both will come in wearing whatever it is you were wearing around the house. 

The shop is a few blocks from his place and if you weren’t looking for it, you would miss it. It is tucked behind two brightly lit shops in a back alley. Still, when you’re hungry for a particularly good bowl of ramen, you can smell it from down the block. The aroma of garlic and miso wafts through the streets from the alley it sits in and both you and Tendou find that you would know it by smell alone. It beckons to you both in a homely manner. 

“You’re so late,” Tendou comments as he meets you at the bottom of his stairwell. 

“Were you tracking me?” You furrow your eyebrows. You hadn’t agreed to meet him outside his place, so to see his lanky figure descending the outdoor steps is a bit of a shock. Still, you wouldn’t put it past him to check your location for where you are. In fact, you suspect he does it often and for fun. You don’t mind though. After all, you do the same to him. 

“Yeah,” he shrugs, putting his hands in the pockets of his sweats. Tendou leans forward, shifting his weight onto his hips and letting his shoulders droop. 

“Eugh, creepy,” you shiver slightly and smile at him. 

Tendou tilts his head to the side and gives you an affectionate grin. It spreads across his face and his eyes narrow in a familiar way. For a moment, you think he is about to say something that makes you want to cross one of your well-defined boundaries but instead, he comes out with, “if you were on time, I wouldn’t have to.” 

You shove him to the side plainly and turn to stride down the sidewalk before you can watch him wobble back and forth like a card house. Your heart hammers lightly in your chest. This happens sometimes. You find yourself getting tripped up on the familiarity of his expressions and the way his smile curls like dry paper. Then, you hear the sound of his sneakers against the floor as he jogs to catch up with you in the direction of the restaurant. 

“Wooaaahhh, so hostile tonight, huh? What happened to my nice BFF from this morning?” He leans forward as he walks so that he’s in your eye line, trying to catch your avoidant gaze as you suppress a smile. 

“They remembered that you’re an irritating little shit,” you huff, pretending to be mad. 

“Harsh.” 

The two of you walk the short distance to the restaurant in near silence. It’s nearing 9 pm and the streets have gone dark, illuminated only by the streetlights and sign shops that stay on through the evening. Their electric glow casts the sidewalk pavement in artificial blues and yellows, elongating your shadows until they dip into the street where cars and cyclists zip by on their way home. You watch people bustle through the street, their lively chatter creating a city soundscape that you’re familiar with. Groups of men in business suits walk into nearby restaurants and bars, finally off the clock for the night but not quite ready to return home. Girls wearing colorful spring clothes move in gaggles as they head into a new and trendy spot that recently popped up. 

Some of these girls stare at Tendou as he passes. They watch the lazy nature of his eyes and the way he hunches over himself slightly. They marvel at his height and the cool exterior he wears as he looks somewhere past them at the buildings lining the somewhat busy street. These girls giggle into their mouths when he passes because, for every person who has ever called him creepy, there are an equal number of people who call him handsome. They glance behind them as they walk, asking each other if you are his girlfriend to which you chuckle internally. Tendou pretends not to notice, though you know from the way that he is careful not to look at them that he does. 

Every now and then when this happens, Tendou’s gaze will slink over to look at you. You can feel the way he watches your expression, his gaze fixed on you through the corners of his eyes. Sometimes you will look back at him and raise your eyebrows and he’ll shake his head. Other times, you will keep staring straight ahead just to see how long he will look at you for. You’ve learned that it will be until he needs to look ahead for fear of running into someone. 

When you reach the door of the small ramen shop, which consists of a blue curtain with kanji lettering, Tendou holds it to the side for you with his forearm. He reaches ahead of himself and puts it against the doorframe, pinning it against the wood frame to keep the cloth out of your way before ducking his head to follow you in. When you look behind you, Tendou is straightening himself up again to his full height. 

The chef inside calls a welcome to you before he asks how you’re doing. He knows you both well by now and whenever you enter, it seems that he’s pleased to see you. He’s an older man with heavy wrinkles beside his eyes and between his eyebrows. He’s expressive and the lines of age on his face demonstrate that very clearly. The chef has sharp features that soften considerably when he smiles and a low, gruff voice that seems to somehow match the interior decoration of his hole-in-the-wall shop. 

“You together yet?” He leans onto the counter after asking which particular bowl of ramen you’d like. 

The chef is an old man and far too cheeky for his own good. Every time you come in, he never fails to ask if you’re dating each other yet. Through a tenacious grin, he poses the question you both have been asked countless times over. Tendou’s response is different every time. 

“Oh yeah, we’re so in love now.” You take the liberty of responding and Tendou leans his cheek onto his hand and raises his eyebrows at you. 

“Yeah?” He questions, the fat of his cheek smushing his lips into a slight pout. 

“No.” You turn to the chef and shake your head. “It’s not gonna happen.” 

The chef clicks his tongue and shakes his head with a small laugh and Tendou sits up and drums his fingers on the table as he leans back in a stretch. 

“Aw, never?” He teases. 

You nod at him, exaggerating the movement. 

Tendou closes his eyes and laughs, his fingers still drumming against the surface of the table before he reaches a resting position. You hear him mumble bummer as you look away and when you look back at him, you find that he is staring blankly at the drink menu in front of him. His expression is unreadable. 

Tendou gets like this sometimes. He grows quiet for a few moments as if he is weighing something in his mind. You can see the inquisitive look in his eyes and every now and then, his bottom lip will bounce and it will tell you that he’s thinking about something. In these moments, you’re never quite sure what he’s thinking. You’ve never been able to tell and you’ve reserved yourself to thinking that it is not meant for you or for anyone else. 

Then, just as quickly as he falls into the slight moment of silence, he pulls himself out in his same usual manner. Tonight, he remarks on how hungry he is and how he doesn’t want to work tomorrow night. Then, he’ll let you talk until you’ve nothing left to say. Whereas Tendou does most of the talking with Wakatoshi, you do most of the talking with Tendou. You can appreciate the way he just wants to listen, his eyes trained sleepily on your face as he listens to you chatter on about something mundane. He knows you would and have done the same for him and you imagine that he feels the same about listening to you talk that you do listening to him. 

You both slurp at your noodles through idle conversation. He talks about work and you converse about what it is that you want to do next. Sometimes, in moments like these where you are both discussing your precarious futures, it feels like you’re in your third year again getting food after evening practice. The only difference now is that Wakatoshi is not with you and you are no longer 17. Instead, both you and Tendou are 24 and in the inbetween of life, floating between present and future in a perpetual cycle of uncertainty. Somehow, the only thing that seems to quell it is the familiar presence of one another. The small ramen shop, with its sounds of boiling water and conversation, grows smaller still. 

—

Tendou is weird. He’s always been weird. He somehow manages to seem like he knows everything. He has wide, unsettling eyes that look like they have x-ray vision. He can guess what just about any of his friends are doing at any given moment and he’s open about it. All of it is weird. It’s not as if he’s been particularly normal up until now because there is truly nothing normal about Tendou and you like him that way but recently… he’s been weirder. 

You can’t exactly pin what could be off because he hasn’t done anything in particular. He still texts you to hang out, he still wears that familiar smile that you adore, he is still as attentive as usual, but he’s weird. Something is weird. 

You imagine that what you’re sensing is a radar you have only for Tendou. The feeling comes to you as more of a sixth sense rather than anything based on evidence. You know him like the back of your hand. You’re likely to notice even the smallest new detail. That’s how it is with Tendou. Hand in hand with the particular closeness you share, is the ability to tell when he’s off.

Tendou lately has been spending more time on his phone. He stares and clicks it on and off like he’s waiting for something. The screen will occasionally light up his features before he clicks it off again upon seeing nothing. Occasionally he will swipe his phone open and check whatever it is he’s waiting on directly, though you can’t tell if it’s news or a conversation. You watch the way he holds the sleek rectangle in his long fingers, drumming them against the smooth side of it and waiting for it to vibrate in his grasp. More often than usual, while he drums his fingers across the back of his phone, he will wear that blank look and stare into space, thinking about something you’re not privy to. 

The thought pops into your mind that it could be a girl, though you’re not sure that’s the case. If it were a girl, you think Tendou would tell you and if he didn’t… well, that thought makes you more uncomfortable than you’d like to admit for reasons you can’t quite pinpoint. Tendou is his own person, as are you, but if there is one thing you pride yourselves on it is the way you share openly with each other. You inhale, letting your gaze slink from where he fiddles with his phone to the television screen. You won’t dwell on it. You’re not nosy enough to dwell. 

The feeling isn’t particularly uneasy and any anxiety that may have manifested while you were considering Tendou’s predicament quickly melts away once Tendou begins talking to you. You find yourself at ease while he chats, telling you that his job wants him to pick up more hours but he’s not sure if he wants to. It’s so boring, but it’s not. This topic is such a mundane one but you feel that familiar fondness bloom through you as he speaks. Nothing seems boring when you’re with him.

Then, the phone in his hand begins to vibrate. It hums to life in his somewhat limp grip and Tendou, in one smooth and slow motion, checks who exactly it is. There’s no rush to it. In fact, Tendou finishes his sentence before shifting his eyes down to look as he flips the screen up to face him but you can tell that he’s eager. He tilts his head, reading the words across the screen as the jingle of his ringtone plays softly from the muffled speakers. Tendou dropped his phone in water once and as a result, his ringtone sounds like it is playing through glass. His expression shifts from one of barely readable anxiety, to disappointment, to happiness.

His gaze slinks over to you and he gives you a lopsided and lazy grin.

“It’s Wakatoshi.”

“Yeah?” You peer over his thumb, looking at the familiar name across the screen, “can I say hi?” 

“Duh,” he sticks his tongue out like you’ve said something stupid before answering the call, “Wa-ka-to-shi! I’ve got _____ here,” he holds the phone out to your mouth, “say hello!” 

“Hi Wakatoshi.” You speak and you can hear the gruff sound of his acknowledgement before Ushijima’s rich baritone spills through the speaker. 

“Hello,” he says your name, even across his tongue, “it’s been a while since we last spoke.” 

“Yeah, well, you never call!” You fake a pout and you’re certain Ushijima can hear it through the phone. 

Ushijima gives a soft exhale, “I could say the same about you.” 

You roll your eyes even though he can’t see it and Tendou fakes being hurt on your friend’s behalf. 

“But don’t worry,” he starts, “I’ll be back in Japan in a few weeks.” 

“No way! Really?” You feel the excitement bubble in your chest before it shows on your face and Tendou tilts his head at your expression. You watch the way his eyes slink across your features, soaking in your joy through his skin like the sun until he is kissed with it. 

“Yeah, visiting family,” the response is short, much like the way Ushijima usually talks. 

“Man, the off season works wonders,” Tendou hums from beside you, wiggling a little in his seat. 

“You know there’s no off season, Tendou. We train year round,” Wakatoshi states. 

“Minor details,” he says, waving his wrist back and forth as if he were erasing the sound of the words from the air around him. 

Tendou gives you a wry grin before pulling the phone back and switching off speaker mode. Vaguely you can hear the sound of Ushijima giving a brief apology about not calling you, but you’re not actually mad enough to warrant it. In fact, you’re elated that he’s coming to visit. You and Wakatoshi are very good at clicking right back into place, so worrying over why he doesn’t call isn’t exactly in the front of your mind. Besides, you figure he still thinks about you because every morning you receive an influx of tiktoks and new articles that he’s sent you through the night. So thoughtful, that one. 

“So what’s up?” Tendou speaks, placing the phone against his ear and pinching it there with his shoulder. 

He reaches in front of him, unscrewing the top of his water bottle and taking a sip as he listens somewhat intently to what Ushijima has to say. Tendou leans back, extending his arm over the back of his couch and leaning deeply into the cushions with a sigh and mumble of confirmation. 

He looks like he’s at his leisure here. The lean muscle of his neck is relaxed and the tilt of his head makes him look like he’s scheming something. A small smile plays at the corners of his lips as he gazes thoughtlessly at the table in front of him. It tugs the ends of his mouth upwards and you recognize it as one that is entirely subconscious. Satori doesn’t even realize he’s doing it and the thought sends a fond flood of warmth through your chest, honeyed and heavy. 

You stand, exhaling deeply when you do. It’s best to leave them to their chats. Satori and Wakatoshi’s time together is limited, so when the other calls each night, it fulfills a certain (and private) routine which you know they both value. 

Tendou’s eyes slink over to you as you move. His eyebrow quirks up as he pinches the phone between his ear and shoulder, pulling the bottom of his phone from his mouth as if he’s ready to respond to whatever you say. You opt to mouth at him, as you can still hear the baritone hum of Ushijima’s voice on the other end of the line.

“I’m gonna go take a shower,” You point behind you to his bathroom. 

Tendou makes the OK symbol with his hand before he smiles at you. Then, he turns his attention back to his phone and you can hear him start the sentence ‘it’s going okay’. You watch as the smile falls and his face returns to a somewhat pointed resting position. He glances sideways at you one more time, his eyes tracking over your figure as you eavesdrop in a somewhat obvious way. All he offers is the slight upturn of his lips, but you can’t shake the eerie feeling the smile gives you. It looks like it’s made out of glass and as you step away, you hear the way his voice drops to a hushed whisper before it fades entirely through the thick wood of his bathroom door.

You start the shower, turning the knob in Satori’s bathroom. It’s familiar here and you don’t need to pause to think about which way is hot and which way is cold. Coming to his home is like walking into your own and part of your relishes in getting to use his shampoo and conditioner. 

It smells like him, somewhat rich and musky, with a sharp and clean aspect to it. You think that his shampoo smells a bit like men’s deodorant, but far more gentle. It’s less masculine than that, somewhat sweet, but it still retains this aspect to it that maintains whatever it is Tendou has going on. You like wearing that smell. It’s like a homecoming and sends your stomach flipping. 

His bathroom is decidedly western. Blue tile decorates the shower wall, it’s white grout somewhat tinged with age. The tiles are clean though. You know because Satori reminds you constantly to go over it with the squeegee when you’ve finished. It gives his bathroom this particularly polished quality. 

You lather his shampoo into your hair, inhaling deeply as you do. It smells like him. It smells like Tendou after an evening practice, coming out of his mother’s bathroom as he rubs at his then-shorter hair. It smells like the way he does when he’s at home and you feel it in your lungs when you take a breath. 

You think of his strangeness. You think of the odd way he carries himself, the way he walks, the way his eyes slink back and forth in a decidedly lazy way. You imagine the cadence of his voice, the soft tenor hum of it when he speaks and the pointed way he says what he means while simultaneously saying the opposite. 

Then, you think about his recent behavior. You think about how tense he is, the way he clicks his phone on and off like he’s waiting for something. 

You’re not particularly sure why the concept of it rubs you the wrong way. It’s a particular feeling of uneasiness and one you haven’t felt with him before. It’s new—somewhat exciting—and dreadful. As you shower, rinsing his body wash from the planes of your own, you ponder on the feeling of it. Weighted in your gut, it sits like poison. You feel like you’re watching an anvil hang from a fraying rope, the weight too much to bear, though why you feel it, you don’t know.

When you leave the bathroom, Tendou is still seated on his couch. He doesn’t seem to hear you leave, and if he did, his body language doesn’t betray it. He sits, his legs extended out onto the coffee table in front of him, one ankle crossed over the other. The phone is still pressed to his head with one hand, his long finger holding the back of it to the shell of his ear. 

“I haven’t,” he says quietly.

There’s a pause and you can only presume that Ushijima is talking. 

“Yeah, it’s just-” he rubs a hand up under his hair, scratching at the back of his head, “it’s a hard thing to bring up.” 

Another pause, except in this one, he stares distantly into the space in front of him. You recognize that look, the one that tells you he’s somewhere far away. The corners of his lips pull flat and you watch as his eyes cloud over with a consuming thought. It’s the same as the night in the ramen shop, placid and somewhat melancholy. Tendou wears this look often lately, though it’s meaning is one that you can’t figure out. 

It casts over his face like a mask and even now, as he nods into the phone as if Wakatoshi can see it, you wonder what runs through his mind. You have Satori figured out but this expression is an anomaly, one that you can’t place your finger on. 

“What is?” You pipe up, walking around the side of the couch and plopping down. 

Tendou jumps with a start, his hand coming up over his chest before he gives a short laugh.

“Jesus, someone needs to put a bell on you,” he breathes. 

“I wasn’t even that quiet,” you laugh a little, “what’s so hard to bring up?” 

Tendou gives you a wry smile, dispelling the expression he wore a moment ago and donning another. You see it tug at the corner of his mouth before answers, “it’s a secret.” 

You roll your eyes, huffing a little. “C’mon, thought we didn’t have any?” 

“None that I want to share,” he says, giving you a lopsided grin. 

“I really hate you.” 

Tendou puts his head on your shoulder, peering up at you. “You promise?” 

You bark a small laugh and Tendou turns back toward his phone, his head still resting on your shoulder. You can feel his tufts of dark red hair at your neck, tickling your skin through the fabric of your pajama shirt and you lean into the touch absentmindedly. His free hand fiddles absentmindedly with a stray thread on the hem of your shirt and he mumbles to Wakatoshi that you just got out of the shower. Their conversation, now that you’re present, feels much slower than it previously was, like they’re deliberately trying to change the subject. 

Despite the touch, despite Satori’s blatant affection, the prospect of a secret tastes bad on your tongue. You’ve never been the type to pry. You’ve always believed that whatever you need to know, Tendou will tell. So why is it that you’re so uneasy right now? Distrust sews itself into your skin like a badge and you furrow your eyebrows a little as you watch the planes of Tendou’s face twist with lively expressions through his conversation, the lamp on the side table casting him in a faint orange glow that feels homely and somewhat eerie. 

You and Tendou head to bed together a short while later, dragging your feet across the carpeted floors before collapsing into bed. Tendou rolls over quickly, mumbling an absent-minded goodnight and while you stare at the ceiling and wait for his breathing to slow and steady itself, you ponder the inbetween. You’re not so sure which inbetween you’re thinking about though— whether you’re thinking about the inbetween of youth and stability—or something else entirely. 

— 

“Did you get the text?” Tendou calls from your living room. He’s posted himself up in there today, his laptop open as he clicks away at something he won’t show you. 

The text he’s talking about is one from none other than Ushijima Wakatoshi himself, telling you and Tendou that the three of you should meet up for dinner tonight. He suggested a restaurant downtown, near the station and you were thrilled to receive the text. 

“Yeah, I did,” you call, leaning back on your heels to peer around the corner at him. “Wanna meet up here first?” 

Tendou is quiet for a moment in the other room before he agrees, telling you that he’s going to send a message to Wakatoshi and let him know. You thank him briefly, returning to whatever it was that you were doing on your phone. 

You must admit, you have ulterior motives for wanting to go to dinner. It’s not that you aren’t thrilled to have the three of you back together. You are, deeply so. But secretly, you are hoping that it will bring back a sense of normalcy you’ve lost in the recent month. To you, it feels like the last normal night was a month ago in your apartment when Satori brought over wine after your break up. That was the last time he felt the way he always has. 

Recently, he’s been stranger than usual. You can’t help the rot that rises in your throat when you think about it. It’s an uneasy little bug, sending you queasy and anxious over the smallest changes, though you aren’t quite sure when it started happening. It’s hard to place, especially because it is about Tendou of all people. Until now, you’ve always felt comfortable telling him everything but for some reason, you worry that bringing this up will make him vanish altogether. Still, you hope that attending something nostalgic like this with him the way you always have will fix it somehow. You hope that maybe you’ve just been too sensitive and that after seeing Wakatoshi and eating a meal together, things will just click back into place. 

Maybe that’s just wishful thinking though. 

—

Sa-to-ri: u ready? I’m downstairs 

You check your phone, seeing it light up on the top of your bed through your mirror. You’d been checking something irrelevant about what you are wearing, fiddling with the waistband of your bottoms or the way your hair falls on your forehead. Nerves rise in your throat as you put on your shoes and lock your apartment door behind you, hopping down the stairs. 

“Well, don’t you look pretty,” Tendou hums, smiling up at you.

He’s wearing an oversized t-shirt and joggers. They cut off just above his ankles, revealing a worn pair of black high top sneakers. The sleeves of his shirt rest against his upper arms nicely and his hands are tucked into his pockets as he shifts his weight forward. It bunches up around his forearms, creating big, sloping pockets across the front of his abdomen where the hem of his shirt covers his waistband. You roll your eyes, catching the unusual heat rising to your cheeks and swallowing it down. 

“Thanks,” you exhale, “you trying to butter me up or something?” 

Tendou gives you a wry grin. “How’d you know?” 

You sneer lightly at him, “because you’re awful at hiding shit.” 

Tendou presses his lips into a small line. His eyes glass over a little as he starts to walk, keeping his hands in his pockets. 

“Anyway, what is it?” 

“What’s what?” Tendou raises an eyebrow. 

“The thing you want to butter me up for?” You furrow your eyebrows, laughing a little. 

“Huh? Oh, nothing. I just want to be on your good side.” 

“Scared or something?” 

“A little,” he hums, looking at his shoes before glancing sideways at you as he raises his chin to peer at the tops of the buildings lining your walk to the station. 

The restaurant is a few stops away in a newly painted building. It’s a few blocks from the station, lit up by electric blue lights characteristic of Kokubunchô. The crowds, which you should be used to, overwhelm you a little and you’re grateful for Tendou, whose height makes him impossible to lose. You’re surprised that Wakatoshi would suggest a place downtown, just off from the izakaya and clubs that make Kokubunchô such a popular destination for people our age. After all, he’s never been much of a partier, often choosing to abstain and stay in shape. 

It’s been a long while since you’ve seen him. Wakatoshi spends most of his time traveling around Japan and Asia, playing volleyball in countries you’ve never even thought to visit. He competes in global competitions and will most likely be recruited for the Japan National team for the Olympics. 

When you arrive at your designated meeting spot, Wakatoshi is standing outside. You know that before you even see him because people round the corner he stands behind while glazing backwards over their shoulders. They mutter about how big that man was, if they’ve seen him somewhere before, if he’s a celebrity. Tendou snickers under his breath, his head tilting a little like it’s on a spring, and you smile in response. 

You run ahead of Tendou and round the corner, greeted by Ushijima’s tall figure standing outside of the entrance to the building, lit up by the neon sign above him. 

“Finally!” You shout, bounding over to him and embracing him into a hug. 

“You should really announce who you are before you hug someone,” he says, his voice low and baritone as he wraps his thick arms around you. 

“I did,” you laugh a little, your excitement at finally being able to see him again climbing in your throat. 

“I wouldn’t consider that enough warning.” 

You pull away, pouting a little at him before cracking a wide smile. 

“How are you?” he continues. 

“I’m good,” you exhale, “Jesus, look at you. I think you got taller.” 

“I didn’t,” he says matter of factly, “they measure me a lot for the team. I would know.” 

“Still straightforward as ever,” you huff a little and Wakatoshi gives you a gentle smile. It’s barely there, but you’ve known him long enough to be able to notice it now. 

“No greeting for Satori?” Tendou feigns injury behind you, shrugging his shoulders and scuffing his heel against the floor. 

Wakatoshi scoffs lightly before stepping close. Then, the two boys hug each other, clutching tightly around the other’s shoulders as they mumble about how long it’s been since they’ve spoken in person. Satori makes an off-handed comment about Wakatoshi getting more handsome and Wakatoshi jostles his shoulder in response, saying something about Tendou being smoother around the edges too.

You watch, stomach swimming with a familiar feeling you get only when the three of you are together. It’s like you are all 17 again and nothing has changed. The way you speak, the way you feel, the uniquely comfortable atmosphere the three of you set with each other, blankets you like snow. 

Tendou walks into the restaurant first, followed by you, and then Wakatoshi behind you. People inside of the restaurant turn and stare when they duck under the doorway, standing to their full height in the restaurant. Even among people with similar heights, the two of them stand out. Tendou with his knowing eyes and Wakatoshi with his undeniably good looks. You are in the middle, caught between two magnetic forces that you’ve spent the majority of your life around. 

You settle at a small table in the back. It’s clean and hardly has enough room to fit the three of you around it comfortably. It’s a trendy restaurant, mostly famous for its matcha desserts which mix western cooking with Japanese flavors. The majority of the menu are smaller appetizers, but there are sandwiches as well as seafood options which you hungrily stare down. When the time comes, you settle on a salmon dish with miso seasoning, Satori decides on a spicy curry, and Wakatoshi orders the same thing you do but with a small side of tempura. Looking at the place now, you figure that it’s probably closer to an izakaya than any other type of restaurant. You look forward to dessert. 

“Are either of you getting drinks?” Tendou leans forward on the table on his elbows, giving a wry grin. 

You peer at him from the side, smiling slightly. “And you say I’m the alcoholic.” 

“You are,” he states, leaning forward and smiling at you. 

“I’m not,” Wakatoshi adds. 

“Well spotted, Ushiwaka,” Tendou snickers. 

“Yeah, you’re a regular Sherlock Holmes,” you laugh. 

“I meant that I’m not getting a drink,” he says flatly, pressing the ghost of a smile between his lips. 

You and Tendou glance at each other before bursting into a fit of giggles. Then, Wakatoshi follows with a laugh that’s deep seated in his chest. 

“I don’t know. Are you?” You ask Tendou, exhaling deeply. 

“I want one,” he shrugs. 

“Of course you do,” you chuckle a little. “Then, I’ll have a beer too.” 

Tendou tilts his chin upwards, his eyes narrowing as he gives you a little smile. It’s like he expected you to do the same, an affectionate and knowing little curl of his lips that sends heat rippling through your stomach. It takes a lot of strength to tear your eyes from him and when you do, you find yourself trying to shake the new feeling from your stomach as you inhale. 

“So Wakatoshi, how’s the team?” You ask as Tendou flags down the server and orders two beers and a glass of water. 

“They’re fine,” he says, smiling a little. “Team practices still happen even in the off season, but what’s important is weight training to make sure we stay strong.” 

“Is that why you were able to come back to Sendai for a bit?”

“Mhm, though I still train every day,” he offers, leaning back so that the server can set down the drinks on the table. 

“So driven…” Tendou smiles. 

“You should be playing, you know,” Wakatoshi says to Tendou. 

He waves his hand in response, dispelling the thought. “Me? Go pro? Nah, I think I’d be miserable. Volleyball was just a high school thing for me.” 

Wakatoshi shrugs his shoulders. 

“You gonna be on the Olympic team, ‘Toshi?” You pry a little, leaning forward. 

“I don’t know yet. We’ll find out next year.” His expression doesn’t betray anything, but you can hear the excitement in his voice. It makes the sound feel tight, like he’s trying to keep from shouting about it. You smile to yourself. 

“Look at you, you’ve got a whole career. Meanwhile, Satori and I have no clue what we’re gonna do in the future,” you chuckle, taking a sip of your drink. The condensation sticks to your hand. 

Then, Wakatoshi furrows his eyebrows and looks to Tendou. He looks back at him and for a moment, they sit there like that, communicating telepathically (most likely). It makes you uneasy, like there is something about Tendou that you’re not allowed to know. The uneasy feeling that’s made itself scarce the entire evening bullies its way to the base of your throat. You try to swallow it down, but to no avail. 

Tendou inhales and the moment is broken. The two boys settle back into their seats and glide past the strange occurrence. 

“I’m sure you’ll both figure it out,” Wakatoshi offers, smiling gently at you. “You’re very capable.” 

“I applied to a temp agency a week ago, so hopefully something comes of that,” you take another big sip of your drink. 

“Temp agency? Why didn’t you tell me?” Tendou pouts a little. 

“I mean, it’s not a sure thing. Just an application. Didn’t want to get ahead of myself.” You laugh. 

“Awww but I wanna hear about your life,” Tendou whines lightly. 

“Bro, you are literally in my house five days a week. You know just about everything.” 

Tendou shrugs his shoulders and leans back in his chair, mood shifting from the false sadness into something of realization. Has he only just now realized how much time the two of you spend together. 

“_____, Satori told me you and your boyfriend broke up.” Wakatoshi says. 

“Damn, seriously dude?” You shrink into your chair, letting the server place your food in front of you. It looks good and your cut of fish steams on the bed of rice it sits on. Your mouth waters. 

“Sorry, he asked about it,” Tendou shrugs his shoulders, picking up his chopsticks to start eating. 

You wave off the apology. It’s not like you weren’t going to tell Wakatoshi anyway. 

“Yeah, we did,” you say, swallowing the first bite of fish. 

“What happened?” he pushes. 

You shrug your shoulders, sitting back in your chair a little and pushing the fish around your plate. “We just weren’t compatible. I didn’t like him the way I thought I should and he clearly didn’t like me very much. He was kinda mean.” 

Tendou swallows his bite of food beside you and Wakatoshi glances up toward him. They exchange another look and Satori shakes his head, returning his gaze to the food. 

“That’s terrible. I’m sorry,” Wakatoshi offers. 

“Nah, don’t worry. I’m not all too beat up about it,” you laugh a little. “It might sound twisted, but when we broke up I didn’t really care all that much.” 

“I can vouch for that. They called him a cunt.” Tendou adds, smiling over his drink. 

“I did do that,” you confirm. 

“Sounds like them,” Wakatoshi gives a small laugh. 

The rest of your meal is spent in idle chatter. You and Satori have a few more drinks, trying to get Wakatoshi to order one in the later half of the evening, to which he dutifully shakes his head. You blather on about how much you miss him and when the next time he’ll be in Japan is while he smiles fondly and tosses sideways glances to Tendou who just shrugs because he knows you get like this. 

You realize, at some point, that unlike you and Tendou, Ushijima is not in the inbetween. He’s got a well-established career with a clear future path. He is not stumbling around blindly, but rather taking deliberate steps towards his future. You and Tendou, it seems, are caught in that particular place, walking yourselves in circles until you finally find the courage to walk in a line. You’re relieved to know that someone is in the circle with you. 

Briefly, you think about the looks Satori and Wakatoshi exchanged. Pointed, deliberate looks that exchanged information between the two of them. You’re not sure why it bothers you the way it does. It’s not as if they’ve never had secrets between the two of them before. This one, however, feels somehow heavier. It feels like it’s an elephant in the room between the two of them. You hate the inflated feeling it gives off. It swells and presses you against the wall, stealing the air from your lungs and sending panic to rise up through your throat. 

You’re sad to part with Wakatoshi, offering him a long hug and doing your best to squeeze the air out of him. He pats your back, laughing lightly about how he’ll be back eventually. You whine, telling him that he needs to call more. He promises that he will, though you know it will probably remain the same. The two of you have engaged in this perpetual cycle for years now. 

Satori hugs his friend goodbye as well, mumbling something to Wakatoshi that you don’t catch, to which he says that they can talk about it later. 

You scuff your feet against the floor the whole way home, trying to pretend that your plan to make things feel normal worked. 

—

You and Satori have clear boundaries. You always have. There are things you can and can’t do with each other that you both follow religiously. It’s not as if you’ve ever actually discussed it with him. The two of you have never sat down and actually talked about these rules you have in place. They are unspoken but mutually understood. 

You suppose that drawing those types of lines started in high school. Before then, it had never even crossed your mind that skinship or your particular ways of showing affection to each other could be taken as anything but platonic. Satori was the first of the two of you to get a partner. In your second year of high school, he’d started going out with a girl in his class. You’d never met her before then in earnest, though you’d certainly seen her around, mostly out of the corner of your eye. 

Tendou wasn’t all that popular in high school. Not just because of the way he looked (which you’ve always thought to be above average), but because of the somewhat aloof attitude he maintained. Between snide comments and a generally over-confident demeanor, most people found him off-putting. It didn’t take long though for a few girls to notice his better qualities. They noticed his fingers, long and lithe and wrapped in bandages. They noticed his smile, the coy kind that affects one side of his mouth before it affects the other. They noticed his height and stature, the lazy way he carries himself so that he always seems a little off kilter. 

To you, these things have always been obvious. His good looks have always been something that you’re keenly aware of. Whatever unique qualities he has only seem to add to them. 

Still, when he started seeing her, you and Satori seemed to fall in sync about these unspoken boundaries. One day, the line in the sand between you both was drawn into being, separating your friendship from anything beyond that. 

You’ve always been grateful for that little line, you think. It keeps things from getting confusing. It protects yours and Satori’s platonic relationship as much as it protects your romantic ones. You don’t read too much into things. Your heart doesn’t flutter when he touches you (or does it). You keep your pesky emotions at bay. It’s all thanks to that lovely little line. 

Sometimes though, like now, that line stares at you. For some reason, it feels like whatever is going on with Tendou is on the other side of it. You feel like he’s moved the line farther away from him, drawing a bubble and preventing you from stepping close. His situation, whatever it may be, is now beyond your grasp and you feel as if asking would be stepping over it. 

It’s the first time in your friendship, you think, that Satori has drawn a line all on his own. 

He’s back in your house today, lounging on your bed with his head hanging off the end. You can see the way his neck protrudes and bobs each time he swallows. It’s got a lovely angle to it and you can see the lines of lean muscle running up the sides of his neck. 

When he’d walked in, you’d found yourself shocked to see that he’d not only decided to get a haircut, but to buzz off all of his hair entirely. You’d gaped at him, reaching up to touch his head and lamenting the loss of his shoulder length hair. 

“What? You don’t like it?” he’d asked through a coy smile. 

“It’s not that it’s just… why?” you’d questioned, unable to shake the feeling that it has something to do with his secretiveness. 

Tendou adopted that familiar far off look and shrugged. “Needed the change. Kinda felt like I was going in a circle.” 

Then, he’d brushed past you and into your house, asking about something to drink. 

Satori’s looking at his phone now, scrolling through social media like he’s a robot stuck on repeat. Every now and then, his lips will quirk up a bit when he sees something funny, but otherwise, the only thing that moves are his thumbs and the gentle bob of his neck. 

You stand facing the mirror in your room, watching him through it as you busy yourself with something on the shelf adjacent. You’d been looking for a book to read but had been quickly distracted by your train of thoughts after seeing a photo of you and Satori from high school.

You keep it framed on your nightstand in a cheap wooden frame you bought from a thrift store before going to college. It was taken a few weeks before your graduation, standing in front of the school gym. Satori is in his volleyball uniform after playing a final skirmish with his team before he passed down his jersey. His hair is spiked up and his forehead is slick with sweat. He’s pulling you close to his body in the photo, his arm wrapped around your shoulder and his fingers secured on the other end of you. You can almost recall the feeling of his jersey, damp with sweat, and your smile in the photo betrays a slight grimace at the feeling of it. 

Satori, however, is beaming. His smile is radiant and his eyes are half closed in what looks like the beginning of a genuine laugh. He’d found it amusing to pull you close to him that day, relishing in the way you whined a little about how gross he was. Not that you really minded. You don’t mind much of anything if it’s Satori doing it. He’s special that way. 

A notification on Satori’s phone draws you from your thoughts and your eyes wander habitually to the reflection of his screen in the mirror. It looks like an email and Satori shifts when he gets the notification, sucking in a quiet breath as he quickly reads over it. Then, he closes the application. 

“Why are you staring?” He speaks abruptly, satisfied at the way you jump at being caught. 

“I was just wondering what you’ve been waiting for on your phone lately,” you admit, toeing the line he’s drawn. 

“Mmmmmmm,” he hums, not turning to look at you as a smile creeps up his features, “you curious?” 

“Mhm,” you answer, turning to face him properly. “Is it a girl?” 

At this, Tendou’s eyes slink backward to look at you over the crest of his eyebrows. His lips quirk up in a wry grin. It smooths across his features like liquid metal. 

“Why? You wanna date me?” 

You’re not sure why the teasing question flusters you so much, but it does. Heat bubbles in your stomach and rises to your face just as quickly and you chide yourself for the way you turn away from him. 

“I was just curious,” you huff, rolling your eyes to try and dispel the new sensation rising in you. 

Tendou gives you a cat’s smile through the mirror before he stretches his arms above his head and lets them hang over the side of the bed. 

“It’s not a girl,” he answers, laughing a little. Then, he pauses like he’s debating something before growing quiet and adopting the strange look he’s been wearing. “Nothing important really.” 

You furrow your eyebrows and eye the line in the sand. 

It’s killing you, not knowing. This melancholy and secretive facade Tendou has adopted is making him feel like a stranger and it’s eating you up inside. But you trust him. You trust Satori with your life and more, so you swallow down the uncertainty. It’s coming from somewhere unfamiliar. Somewhere possessive and needy. You ignore the fact that the feeling is coming from a place you previously thought your feelings for Satori didn’t come from. 

“You sure?” you press, clenching your jaw after the words leave your lips. 

“Yeah.” Tendou doesn’t look at you in the mirror, stretching his arms above his head. You think about growing pains. 

Lukewarm. The inbetween. You know what this off feeling is. That subtle space in which your lives have been in for the better part of the last five years. A delicate balance between present and future. A delicate balance between friends and something more. This feeling is different. You worry that it is the inbetween of affection and indifference. It’s going to eat you alive.

—

Tendou’s apartment is pleasantly disorganized. It is one of those spaces in which everything looks out of place, but never really is. Tendou knows where each thing is, even if you’ve always had trouble learning. While this is true for all of the places that Satori inhabits, you think it is especially true for his bedroom and the office. 

His room is littered with small boxes for little items he’s collected over the years. His shelves are stocked with manga he’s liked enough to collect. They aren’t organized in any particular way except by series, but the pattern seems to make sense only to Tendou. His nightstand always has a half drank glass of water on it and on nights when you stay over, there is one beside it for you.

In the corner, there’s a tall dark oak dresser full of his clothes, all of them folded neatly in drawers and tucked away until he needs them. On top of it, there are framed photos of his childhood, as well as one singular nationals trophy that he didn’t have the heart to throw out. You think all of it is endearing. There’s something lovely about entering this space and feeling him all around you. Any stress seems to melt directly off of your shoulders. 

“Wanna order in?” You pad into the living room where Satori is posted in front of the television playing some rendition of the Legend of Zelda games. 

“Huh?” He says before quickly interrupting himself. “Oh, yeah sure. What did you want?” 

Tendou glances at you over the couch, his eyes catching yours for a moment. He grins, his lips curling up in a delightful way, before he turns his focus back to the TV. 

“I dunno, chicken?” 

He chuckles, pausing his game and putting his arm over the couch cushion. Tendou tilts his head to the side and smiles. “You always want chicken. Same place, I assume?” 

You shrug. “Yeah well, I like their spice blend.” You lean your weight against the wall beside you. “So can we order chicken or not?” 

Tendou tilts his head up, pressing his lips together in a smirk and narrowing his all-seeing eyes. 

“Spice blend,” he chuckles, humming pleasantly like he’s mulling something over. Then, he clicks his teeth and you wonder briefly about the motion of his tongue when he does. “Yeah, let’s do it.” Then, he turns back to the TV and presses play. 

“Kay, I’m gonna order from my phone then,” you hum, rolling your eyes and unlocking the screen. 

“Sure,” he says and you pad over to his bedroom to sit down as you pick out what you want. “Oh! ____!” 

“Huh?” 

“If you’re ordering from the place down the street, I’m pretty sure I have a voucher for a free plate.” He calls.

“Oh, where?” 

“Office, I think. Somewhere on the desk.” 

You chuckle to yourself, walking down the hall and into the small makeshift office Tendou has set up. It’s in what should be a closet, with only enough space for a light and a small desk set up. When he’d moved into this place, he’d proudly told you about his plans, to which you told him that if it makes him happy, he should do it. 

“Who even keeps physical coupons anymore?” 

“Me, bro,” he laughs. “Just use it though, I’m pretty sure it’s gonna expire.” 

“Kay!” 

His desk is littered with paper. Most of them are things he’ll never use again; flyers he was handed on the street, takeout menus he usually looks at online, printed receipts for things he bought years ago. Only a few things are actually useful; printed recipes from the internet, a small booklet full of drinks from his job, and a thick recipe book with papers and post-its sticking out of it. 

You shuffle through the papers, looking for the coupon. You’re expecting something bright red and gaudy. Something that feels like it’s trying too hard to get your attention. When you find it tucked beneath the thick book of recipes, you almost just grab it and go. If it hadn’t been for the way your eyes lingered on the spot where it was for a moment, you never would have seen it. 

Underneath the coupon, is a clipped together stack of papers. A wax-covered yellow paper clip holds them together and at the top, it reads Le Cordon Bleu and then Diplôme de Pâtisserie. It’s been hastily translated into Japanese and you can’t beat the curiosity or the way dread begins to swirl in your stomach.

It’s an enrollment confirmation and clipped underneath it, there is a confirmation for the rent of a studio apartment in Paris. The date for the enrollment is two months from now and you grimace at the paper, making out what you can of the sloppy translation and French writing. 

In your hand, clipped with the yellow-paperclip, is all of the evidence of Tendou’s intention to leave. Worse yet, his intention to leave without telling you in advance. An inky black substance rises in your through, swelling there like lead before realization rounds the corner. In your head, the ball that’s been looming over your head for months now finally drops and you manage to make sense of his behavior the last few months. It wasn’t a girl, it’s never been a girl. It was this.

It’s hard to tell exactly what thoughts run through your mind as you register what you’re looking at. The first is that he’s been keeping this secret for longer than three months judging from the paperwork, the second is that he deliberately chose not to tell you, and the third is the phrase you’ve repeated to yourself since high school. Everything you need to know, Tendou will tell. 

You try not to spiral. You try to keep your feet rooted on the ground at the idea of this person you’ve known since adolescence simply going away so suddenly. None of it works. The secrecy of it cuts you like a slow-dragging knife, pressing into your skin and cutting a fine line from your stomach to your forehead. 

“_____!” Tendou calls. His voice startles you from your thoughts. “If you haven’t ordered yet, can you get me extra hot sauce please?” 

You don’t answer, instead starting to make the short walk from the office to the living room. 

Tendou says your name. When you don’t answer, you hear him pause his game and stand up, calling your name again. 

By the time he’s turned to start walking in your direction, eyebrows furrowed, you have reached the entrance to the living space. The papers are clutched in your hand and you can feel the edge of them pressing into your palm. 

“What are these?” You ask, attempting to keep your voice steady. 

“What’s what?” He tilts his head, smiling before he glances down to your hand. 

You hold it up so that he can see. 

When his gaze settles and he registers what you’re holding, his smile falls. You see the blood rush to his face and a look of shock cover his usually calm features. The expression is foreign on him and it sends a pang of dread through your chest. You had hoped that you were wrong. You had hoped that maybe he was going to tell you, that you’d show him and he’d laugh casually about how he just found out and wanted to tell you once it was settled. 

“What is it?” You say softly and Tendou struggles to find the words. 

He opens his mouth, closes it, and then opens it again. You watch as he scrambles, your lips pulling deeper and deeper into the frown that you can feel taking over your face. 

“Are you going away?” 

He nods. 

“When?” 

“September.” 

The air is knocked from your lungs and your voice comes out as barely a whisper. “That’s in two months, Satori.” 

“I know.” 

“How long have you known?” 

He doesn’t answer and when you look up at him, you can see the way that his eyes are growing red. 

“How long?” You say, a little more forcefully. 

“Since March.” 

“Jesus,” you scoff, “March? That’s nearly five months.” 

He nods, slightly defeated. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” 

Tendou scrambles for the words again, and suddenly you feel like you’ve been poisoned. Your stomach turns and your vision goes a little dizzy and you consider the type of sickness that this will bring to your friendship. How sick will it make the both of you? How long will it be until you are well again? Tendou, whose face has fallen into something of dread and uncertainty, clearly feels it too. You blink, staring at him with wide eyes to give him the opportunity to salvage what small bits of your trust remain. 

Somehow, the expression he wears looks like he’s been about to form it for months. Like that blank expression he adopted was somehow an early version of this and it’s with a heavy heart that you realize that what you’d been seeing on him was the expression of keeping an awkward secret. 

“Why didn’t you tell me, Satori?” 

“I wasn’t-” he swallows. “I didn’t-” 

“You didn’t know how?” You frown, finishing his sentence. You feel the way your brows press in the middle. “You’re my best friend, Satori. There’s nothing you can’t tell me.” 

It hurts to know that he didn’t trust you with this. Unlike the secrets he keeps with Ushijima, this feels like a secret he’s deliberately kept from you. It wounds you to know that there is something Satori didn’t want to tell you, especially something this huge. You feel yourself bleed out onto his floor, though you’re not sure what the other emotions that come with this are. Something adjacent to hurt, like heartbreak. 

“You didn’t know how to tell me, so your solution was to just fuck off to France one day without warning?” You raise your voice a little and Tendou, who is usually so fearless, flinches back from it. You press your lips into a line.

It feels selfish and you can’t figure out why. None of this makes any sense at all to you. 

“You’ve kept secrets before too,” he says like he’s just thought of the justification. Satori scrambles like a young boy caught in the act, clamoring for a way out of the hole he’s dug himself. The more he reaches for his footing, the worse it hurts you.

You furrow your eyebrows. “Sure! I’ve kept secrets about who I fucked in high school. You kept secrets about your entire fucking future!” The words sting the front of your tongue. “Does Wakatoshi know?” 

Tendou doesn’t answer. 

“Does Wakatoshi know?” You say again, forcefully this time. Hurt makes its way into your lungs like a fever. 

“Yeah,” he says quietly, shoulders slumping forward. “He does.” 

You let out a laugh, reaching up to your face and wiping away the tears that have started to well up. When Tendou sees this, his eyes go wide and he takes a step towards you. Instead of letting him take you into his arms the way he always has, you step back. Then, you walk to the entrance of his apartment, grab your bag, slip your shoes on, and open the front door. 

“Congratulations. On the school,” you muster, though it feels spoiled. 

You want to mean it, but you don’t and the realization sends you out of the door and down the street. When you get on the train home, you finally allow yourself to cry, trying to put together why all of this hurts so much. Why are you spiraling the way you are? You wipe hot tears from your face with the backs of your hands, sniffling quietly while people struggle not to stare. The summer heat in the train car is stifling, clinging to your skin and making your face sticky with tears and sweat. 

—

You’ve never fought with Tendou like this before. Sure, you’ve had small spats that lead to a few days of not talking, but this feels bigger than that. This feels like the earth has somehow cracked between you both and opened a deep rift. You’re not sure how long it’s been forming, but you know it isn’t sudden. Pressure builds behind you both like a damn fit to burst. 

It’s not as if it’s only the move that’s doing this. You think it’s more. You think it has something to do with that line in the sand or whatever these new feelings for Tendou are. All of it has been somehow funneled into this one secret, spilling out in a messy and jumbled way that confuses you about feelings (or lack thereof) that you’d been certain about for over 10 years. 

The floor of your apartment is cool like glass. It’s always colder on the floor than it is standing. You lay down to escape the heat, clinging to the wood like a seastar to a rock. Humidity clings to your skin and makes you sticky. You grimace, rolling over slightly. 

It may seem dramatic to lay on the floor and think about Satori, but you often find yourself on the ground when you need to think about something important. The energy flows better down here. There have been several times in which Tendou has laid down on the floor with you to think. He did it when you needed to decide where to go to high school, he did it when you needed to think about saying yes or no to a confession, he did it when you were deciding where to take the entrance exams for at 17. Come to think of it, all of the major decisions in your life were made on the floor. Satori had been there for all of them. 

You breathe out an exhale and more heat sticks to your skin. Even the breeze coming in through the window is unbearably hot, though you suppose that’s just the nature of July. 

It’s been almost a week since you last saw Tendou, which isn’t too long in the grand scheme of things, but feels like a lifetime because it’s him. You can’t remember the last time you went so long without seeing or speaking to him. You can’t bring yourself to respond to his texts. He’s left four of them, each asking to talk to you about it. Every time you try to respond, you lose the courage to do it, sputtering to a stop just before you start to type. 

He’s been with you for all of the major decisions in your life, but you weren’t privy to even know about this one. Sure, Satori is allowed to do what he wants. You know that he’s not obligated to tell you everything, that he doesn’t have to inform you of every small change in his life, but you wouldn’t consider this a small change. Shit, this is bigger than any decision he’s ever made and he didn’t tell you about it. 

You’re not sure what’s worse, the idea that he kept it from you all this time or the idea that had you not stumbled upon those papers, he might have just vanished one day. It’s difficult for you to wrap your head around, the idea of Tendou just going away. For you, he’s been a constant presence in your life. Even when you went to college in Kyoto, he’d come to visit. The train ride was never more than a few hours and he would stay through the weekends or you’d make your way back up to Sendai where he attended the local university. 

Paris is thousands of kilometers away. Forget visiting on weekends, you might not even be able to visit him on holidays. Then comes the question of if he would even want you to visit. If he didn’t tell you he was leaving, maybe he wouldn’t want to have you there. It could be that Tendou’s closeness with you was too much and it had reached a boiling point you’d never noticed. 

It’s hard to believe that the boy you’ve known since 13 could think to go so far away from you. It’s difficult for you to wrap your head around, almost like the thought is presented to you in another language. It’s vaguely familiar, but deeply confusing, so much so that it sends you reeling. You’ve been reeling for the past few days, spun like a top and left to settle on your own. 

This summer is hotter than most and the air doesn’t aid your thinking. It leaves you feeling stagnant, distracted by the sound of cicadas outside your balcony. Heat and anger cling to your skin like sticky black tar and the more you think about you and Tendou, the more you feel the poison in your bloodstream. You wonder briefly if Tendou is feeling it too, though of course he’s brought it on himself. Even through your anger, it hurts you to know that he might also be hurting. 

When you met Satori, he was only an inch or so taller than you. He sprouted up around your second year of middle school, turning into the beanpole that he is today. He didn’t have a lot of friends when he was younger, not until halfway through your first year of middle school when he became a regular on the volleyball team. 

You suppose that he didn’t have many friends because of his name, or maybe it was because of the way he looked. Before Satori grew up, his big eyes and thin upper lip were even more pronounced than they are now and when he was 13, he hadn’t yet grown out of that awkward, middling phase all children go through. You never minded but the other kids certainly did. 

In fact, you always liked that Tendou matched his given name so well. Satori, referring to a yokai that can read minds. His all seeing eyes. The way he seems to know everything about you before you know it yourself. It all suits him so nicely. You’ve always liked that about him, those qualities which he’s owned from a young age and maintained throughout the majority of his life. 

They’re as dear to you as he is, and you know that they’ve become dear to him as well. 

When you were young, you never cared much for the gossip of other children, so when Satori joined your middle school class and was greeted with the whispers of your classmates, you paid them no mind. It seemed that Satori didn’t either, instead focusing on volleyball, which allowed him to realize a certain twisted kind of satisfaction he craved. Your friendship unfolded quickly, moving through the awkward acquaintance stage and into the friend stage quickly. 

The first summer you both spent together was one of the most memorable. Come to think of it, you and Satori had somehow managed to skip over the awkward part of making friends at 13, barrelling into the summer season together as comfortable friends. He’d sat out on your back porch with you often, eating cut watermelon your mother had prepared for you both. She was just glad to see you’d made a friend. As a young child, people found you unapproachable, as you’d always had an agency over yourself which other kids didn’t have. 

Satori was the same, though he was always more immature in his teasing. Tendou has always gotten a kick out of toying with others and in high school it half-way earned him his nickname of Guess Monster, which plays on the word “gesu” meaning “low-life”. You always thought it was mean, but it would be a lie to say that Tendou didn’t earn that name with his opponents. He always somehow managed to come across as somewhat sleezy to them, even if you know he’s anything but. 

It happens to be another part of him that you adore deeply. The way he makes you squirm has always been an enjoyable aspect of your neatly kept friendship. 

Still, that first summer and all the summers after, went the same way. On the porch or balcony with a plate of fresh watermelon, laying across the slightly-cooler floor and debating through bored slurs what to do next. You can recall every version of him. 13 and immature, grinning over the tops of sunburnt cheeks. 17 and laidback, with a cheshire-like grin and a penchant for teasing. 20 and in college, with long hair and an easy, attractive grin. 24, with freshly buzzed hair, sitting between the past and the future, getting ready to leave you behind. 

You know it’s unfair to think that way. He’s not leaving you behind. Not really. Satori is just moving forward. He’s taking another step towards his future and that’s supposed to be a good thing. It’s supposed to be good that he knows what he wants next. But you can’t find it in you to be happy for him. 

You think it’s selfish. It’s selfish of him to not tell you. It’s selfish to want to go so far away. It’s selfish to want to be somewhere that you aren’t. Most of all though, it hurts that you didn’t know. It aches somewhere deep and ancient in your chest, a kind of pain you’re unfamiliar with. Foreign and dull, pressing right up against your sternum from the inside. It feels like heartbreak, as alarming as that is. 

Satori has a side to him that you didn’t know. A secretive one. One that allows him to just slowly withdraw if he wants to. It makes you wonder what else he keeps from you. Everything you need to know, Tendou will tell. How far does that extend? What other things don’t you know? 

While the ache is there, you can also feel confusion. It’s a deep, skin-tingling sensation, like something not quite realized. You have no idea why you’re reacting as adversely to this as you are. It’s not as if him not telling you this yet means anything that you’ve spiraled into believing. It’s not like it means he doesn’t care about you, it just means that he was as tongue tied as you feel right now. 

Your friendship has always had clear rules and boundaries and you think that feeling the way you are and Tendou keeping this secret has somehow broken them. It’s like, in breaking your unspoken rule somewhere else, Tendou set off a chain reaction that caused you to break another. Now, all you can think about are the inbetween moments. The liminal space between friends and something more that you and Satori have occasionally crossed into. 

It’s not because you are fantasizing about it, nor is it because you necessarily want it to mean something, but it is because they mean the most to you. Those little moments are when you’ve felt the closest to him, as if your relationship were strengthened by your physical proximity and the feel of his hands on your arms or face. 

You think about those easy summers. About the way girls pass him on the street and giggle into their mouths when he glances at them. About the way he looks at you when he walks. All of it piles up like sand, heavy and easy to sink into. You could get lost in these feelings and it terrifies you. 

You’re so deeply uncomfortable with the change, both in Tendou’s life and in your steadily rounding realization. Why is that? You’ve separated from plenty of friends before just like this and never felt so hopeless. Leaving for college was no different. Even when Wakatoshi moved away permanently, you weren’t half so torn up. You didn’t mourn the loss of some unplacable thing that had yet to exist. But here you are now, laying down on the floor of your apartment and thinking about what it means that he’s going away and what it means that he didn’t tell you. What makes Satori so different? 

You’ve never had to do this before. Thinking about how to respond to Satori feels so strange that it’s making you sick. You used to always know what to say. What’s making this any different? Why does it feel like there’s a lump in your chest that’s going to make you sick? 

Maybe it’s because you can’t figure out his motivations. There are very few instances in which you can’t tell what Satori is thinking. After all, he’s the person you spend the most time with, of course you’re able to tell what he’s probably thinking about. You wonder what you could have done to hurt him, rolling onto your back and clenching your fists to quell the crack you feel forming across your chest. 

There’s so much anxiety, so much uncertainty. All you can smell is that first summer. All you can hear is that hot and humid day when you were 13. You wonder why it comes to you so clearly now. Is it because this is the last? Is it because you both have already been poisoned beyond healing? Or maybe it’s simply because that is when these feelings started to take root. 

Maybe they started to take shape a long time ago, this uncertain, swelling ache in your chest that feels so adjacent to love you could have mistaken it for exactly that. The only reason you haven’t is because you know better. You know better than to break the rules, than to love him like that when your friendship has never been anything more. 

You’ve been staving it off for so long, you think. This unplaceable desire has been curbed time and time again. You think back to all of the times it’s felt like Satori was about to cross a boundary and you wonder if he ever actually was or if you’d just imagined it because you wanted it so badly. Even now you’re not sure. You think about your past boyfriends, why it never worked. Had you ever actually cared about them or were you just seeking out traits you thought you saw in Tendou? 

Even if it is more than friendship, even if he does mean more to you than you thought, all you know is how angry you are. It swells in your chest, ballooning until it presses against the inside of your ribcage and makes you ache. You know this can’t be fixed alone. You could run yourself in circles and none of it would make any difference. None of this introspection will matter until you can talk to him, until you can be in his presence again. 

The threat of loss looms heavy over you, like an anvil tied to a string, it swings precariously above your head. Satori, even after keeping the monumental secret, is still your best friend and losing him, distance be damned, is unfathomable. He’s everything to you and the situation, its precariousness, makes you afraid. How long have you been in the space between loving him and losing him? 

—

Sa-to-ri: hey i won’t text you anymore after this, but please come by when you’re feeling up to it. i can explain. 

You read the text over and over in front of his apartment. There’s a thrumming in your chest, like nerves come alive, and you can’t seem to just open the door. 

Satori opens it first, swinging it open with one sharp pull and staring at you. 

“Were you tracking me?” you ask softly. 

“Yeah,” he admits. 

He steps to the side to let you in and you quickly remove your shoes, stepping into his apartment. 

Satori looks like the Satori he always has. Tall and lanky, with big, heavily creased eyes and his thin upper lip. His bottom lip, full and round, bounces slightly as you turn to face him. You rake your eyes over his buzzed hair, still not quite used to the way it looks on him. You remember running your hand over it a few weeks ago and feeling the soft, spiky texture of it. Part of you misses the long hair, though you think this suits him more somehow. 

His eyes, which are usually low-lidded and laidback, look swollen, and the bags under his eyes which you admire so secretly, are more pronounced. Satori looks tired and as soon as you register that it’s probably your fault, you let your shoulders fall. 

“How are you?” he questions softly, the familiar tenor ring of his voice tentative and needy as he follows it with your name. 

You shrug. “I’m okay. How are you?” 

“Been better,” he says, giving you a lopsided grin that you struggle to return. 

You nod at him, swallowing thick, and Satori lets out a shaky exhale and runs a hand over his buzzed red hair.

“I can explain what’s happening, if you want,” he offers. 

“It seems pretty straight forward,” you say. “You applied to a school in France, got in, and it spiraled out before you got the chance to tell me. Right?” 

Satori tilts his head, surprised. You’ve hit the nail on the head. 

“I’m sorry,” he says quietly. “I didn’t mean- I didn’t think that-” 

You nod, biting back the familiar sting of bile rising up your chest. “I know. I’m trying not to be mad.” 

“Are you?” he asks. “Mad, I mean.” 

You nod. 

“Why?” 

“What do you mean why?” you say, giving an incredulous snort. “You’re going away and you were going to do it without telling me.” 

Satori tosses his arms up a little, beginning to grow frustrated. “I thought you just said you understood what happened?” 

“I do!” you shout back. “Do you expect me to leap for joy because you’re going 9,000 kilometers away?” 

Tendou tries to step towards you, reaching out with his lithe fingers to attempt to soothe the anger he can feel rising in you. 

“I have no real idea why you didn’t tell me,” you admit, crumbling a bit. “I think I could go over it a million times in my head and never really understand. But I think the worst part is that I don’t even know what I’m mad at. I’m just mad.” 

He falters, opening and closing his mouth in an attempt to find something to say. You feel your eyes grow wet with tears. 

“Why is it so easy for you to just leave me behind?” You question quietly, your voice cracking as tears start to spill. You feel silly and selfish for asking him this, but it’s what comes up. That unfamiliar swell of emotions you’ve been experiencing for the past week all bring you here. “How can you just up and leave just like that without even asking me about it? Didn’t you ever consider that I’d want to know and celebrate with you?” 

“____,” he says quietly. 

“And I feel so dumb because I know I should be happy,” you cry, wiping your eyes. “I know I should be happy that you’re taking the first steps toward your future, but I can’t be. I’m so hurt, Satori and I’m so sorry that I am.” 

You shake your head a little when Tendou steps close to you, unable to lift your head to look at him. 

“I know you have your own life and your own future,” you say, nodding your head. “I know. But I don’t know how you could ever want to go so far away from me. I don’t think I could ever do that.” 

It’s not accusatory, but uncertain, like you’re weighing the words on your tongue. It almost sounds as if you’re questioning your own feelings. It even surprises you and you stare at the floor between your feet to try and ground yourself. You can hear Satori breathing. It’s a steady sound, occasionally hitching and giving away his emotions. 

“Do you love me?” he speaks up quietly. You raise your head, eyebrows furrowed. “Do you love me like that?” 

You don’t know what to say or how to answer. The question has forced your gaze back up to him. His small eyebrows are pulled together in the center and his lips, usually tinged with a small grin, are pulled downwards. You ache at seeing him like this. 

“Because I do,” he adds, staring at you. 

“You what?” It shocks you, and you shake your head a little as if that would clear up the misunderstanding. You watch as he breaks every boundary you both have ever created. 

“I have for a long time. I love you and I’m not leaving because I don’t,” Satori looks almost unrecognizable, so deeply passionate and emotional, but there’s something familiar in it. There’s an emotion that you’ve seen somewhere before. “I didn’t keep it from you because I don’t.” 

“What are you saying?” You can hardly hear your own voice over the sound of your heartbeat. 

“Do you love me?” He steps towards you, adamant in receiving an answer. “Because I really need to know, man. I can’t do this without knowing.” 

You try to gather your thoughts. All of the teasing, all of the little lost glances Satori would adopt, all of the secrecy. It was because he loved you? It was because he loves you? Even the thought feels heavy, like it’s coated in lead. The idea drops into the pit of your stomach, weighing you down and for a moment you think you may be sick. 

Do you love him? Do you love him the way he wants you to? You look at him, fingers trembling. 

“I don’t know,” you swallow. 

“Come with me,” he pleads, “just come with me.” 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” 

“I don’t know,” he says, running a hand forward on his head. “Because I love you. Because you drive me insane. Because I didn’t even realize I was hiding it until it was too late to not be hiding it. I never meant to let it get this far I never- I never meant to make you cry,” he says, stepping forward and taking your hands in his. “You’re my best friend. I never wanted- I never wanted to lose you and I was so scared and I didn’t- I didn’t know what to do.” 

You take in his explanation, nodding slowly. “So your solution was to say nothing?” You frown at him. 

Satori stares at you. “I’m sorry,” he squeezes your knuckles, “come with me anyway. Even though I didn’t tell you. Come with me.” 

You stare at him for a second, attempting to process the speed at which your brain is moving.

“I can’t do this without you,” he admits, letting his shoulders fall forward and casting his eyes toward the floor of his apartment. 

This sends you reeling more than anything he’s said yet. Satori, by nature, is fiercely independent. He’s fiercely driven and internally motivated. Most people, when they meet him, can recognize this instantly. It makes the admittance heavy, like it’s waterlogged. You gape at him. 

Your eyes follow the familiar planes of his body. His round, double-lidded eyes which are so familiar to you that you would know he’s watching you without even looking. The sharpness of his cheekbones. The undereye bags that you love so deeply. You follow the trail his cheeks make to his mouth, slightly parted and glossy with spit. His neck, leading down to his collarbone. The exposed parts of the muscles, now visible to you from any angle since he cut his hair. 

He’s looking at you with a desperate, wild look. It would be frightening if it were anyone else, but it’s Satori. It’s your most loved person. The one person you could do anything with and be okay. 

The boundaries which you’d relied on so often in times like this, don’t exist anymore. There’s no inbetween to fall back on, no safety net to keep you from falling completely. If you want you, you could give into this entirely. You don’t have to catch yourself. You don’t have to sleep on the couch. There’d be no more side-stepping and avoiding and wondering if you wish it or if you dread it. 

“Okay,” you say quietly, inhaling. “Okay.” 

Tendou looks at you for a minute, blinking. His face is so familiar and being able to look at it like this is like a homecoming. 

“Are you still mad?” he asks quietly, his hands still gripping yours. 

“Yeah,” you admit. 

“Can I kiss you?” He breathes out. 

“Yeah.” 

Satori leans forward, bringing his hand to the side of your cheek gently. He’s so close. The boy you’ve known since 13. You can feel his breath on your face, trembling slightly as he draws closer. You screw your eyes shut as his lips meet yours. Familiar is the word that comes to mind. You’ve never done this with him before, but you can map out the way they look from the feeling of them alone.  

You inhale sharply and Satori leans in closer, bringing his other hand to your face and deepening the kiss. He cups your face firmly with both hands, pulling you close to him as his shoulders drop and he lifts your face to get a nice angle. Everything about his touch is different, but somehow deeply familiar. It’s like you’re meant to be here like this with him. Like you’re meant to be in his arms, which your face cupped between his long, lithe hands. 

He pulls away from you, leaving you dazed and breathless. Looking at him from this close feels like a privilege. It’s like you can see every single detail about him that you’ve ever loved. You reach up to touch his face, running your thumb across his under-eye bag. 

“I’m sorry,” he says again, his lips swollen. 

You shake your head. “I should have been happier for you.”

“Mmm, you always worry about other people like that,” he says softly. “I’m the one who acted like an asshole.” 

“I still don’t want you to go away.” 

“I know,” he leans forward, pecking your lips. “But it’s not for a little while. We’ve got time.” 

You kiss him first this time, pressing forward until your lips find his. Tendou immediately licks into your mouth, deepening it with a groan and pulling your body flush against his. 

There’s so much relief in touching him like this, in feeling the slip and slide of your skin against his. It feels right, so right that all of your previous experiences begin to pale in comparison.

He is so dear to you that it is overwhelming. All of it comes at once as he lays you on the bed, hovering over you with his eyebrows pulled together. Everything that he is is so dear. His hair, his smile, his low-lidded and heavy creased eyes. Oh, how you love him. Any anger slips away in the realization. 

You’ve never seen him look quite so shy, nor so hesitant. His hands, which are usually so sure, run up your sides at an awkward pace, like he can’t quite get a hold of what’s happening. You feel that your expression mirrors his, that the pace of your breath betrays the nerves you’re feeling. 

Satori hovers over you, his shirt pulled off to reveal the pale expanse of chest you’ve seen a million times. His chest heaves, like he’s out of breath, his round shoulders supporting the weight of him as he looks at you. His eyes betray a sense of adoration. It’s an emotion you’ve seen in him a few times, similar to the expression he wears when he plays volleyball. It looks like he’s being consumed. Then, he tilts his head at you and smiles. You smile back at him, reaching to hesitantly touch the back of his head and pull him close to you. 

His buzz cut feels soft to the touch and Tendou gives in when he feels the warm pads of your fingers at the back of his neck. He lowers himself closer to you, shifting onto his forearms and then dipping his neck down to kiss you, beckoned by your gentle touch. You feel his knee press into the mattress between your legs and gasp when he moves it up to brush against your center. 

There’s a strangeness to being touched there by him. Along with the relief of friction, comes the oddness of who. That’s not to say that it doesn’t feel right. It does, though to ignore the years of history between you two would be a disservice. That strangeness, however, only fans the flames of your desire. This is a part of him you’ve never seen before. 

Satori’s fingers snake down your abdomen where your shirt has ridden up. They’re cold and you can almost imagine the round and somewhat pointed look of them. You glance between you both, admiring the knobby curve of his knuckles and the way he toys lightly with the elastic of your waistband. 

“Can I?” he breathes out, barely above a whisper and so laced with desire that you almost think he might whine. 

“Go ahead,” you exhale and he gives you a little smile before dipping two fingers between the folds of your cunt and pressing lightly on your clit. 

You gasp, arching your back up at the cool sensation of it, slowly relaxing as he starts to move his fingers in a steady circle. When you open your eyes, you see that he’s watching you, his neck craned down to peer at the expression you’re wearing. 

“Stop that…” you laugh lightly. 

“Stop what?” he croons, pressing lightly at your entrance with the pad of his finger. 

“Staring…” 

Satori leans down and kisses you while sliding one finger in. You feel him smile against your mouth when you gasp, the corners of his mouth curling up delicately as his mouth leaves yours. 

“You have no idea how long I’ve waited to touch you like this,” he says quietly, still against your mouth. Then, with that lovely upward lilt to his voice, “let me stare a little longer.” 

You huff a little, fighting the heat rising to your cheeks and he laughs a little bit, kissing down the exposed parts of your neck. 

“I could do this instead,” he hums, teasing a little as he pushes your shirt up and places a kiss between your breasts. 

His lithe fingers cup up to cup your chest, pinching your nipple over your bra with two fingers as he smears his lips down your stomach. You don’t know how to respond, instead watching the rise and fall of his head with your breathing as he leaves a trail of kisses down your abdomen. 

When Satori reaches your waistband, he pulls his hand from you and hooks two fingers around it, shimmying it down your legs. 

It’s not as if you haven’t undressed in front of him before. Satori has seen you at your best, your worst, and all of your inbetweens. You’ve changed in front of him more times than you can count, even going so far as to skinny dip together the summer before college. Still, this time is different. This time, when Satori undresses, he’s looking at you with his eyes that see everything. He’s watching the expanse of your body, gaze crawling up each inch of exposed skin until his gaze rests on your now exposed cunt. 

You let out a subconscious whine when his breath hits you and his lips curl up a little when you do. He rests his head on the inside of your thigh, looking up at you from between your legs. 

“Feeling shy?” 

“Obviously,” you force out, covering your face with your forearms. 

“Aw, what?” he pouts. “Don’t hide from me.” 

His voice is so sincere and so fond that it draws you out from behind your arms. He’s still looking at you, smiling from where he lays between your legs. 

“There ya are,” he says, a lopsided grin spreading across his features. “I’m gonna touch you now.” 

Then, he spreads you open with two fingers and licks one long stripe between your legs. You shiver, your hand instinctively flying up to his head where you grow frustrated that his long hair isn’t there to hold onto anymore. He gives you a small smile from between your legs, holding your pussy open, before dipping back down and securing his mouth around your sensitive clit. 

Something about this is so deeply embarrassing. Maybe it's the fact that it’s Tendou, or maybe it’s because you haven’t had someone go down on you this well in a long time. Either way, you feel the humiliation in your teeth like sugar, your knees knocking inward every now and then when he hits a particularly sensitive spot. 

Satori hums into your cunt every now and then, tongue lathing over your sensitive bundle of nerves. Everytime you twitch or gasp, he gives a pleasant little hum that you feel buzz through you, then he looks up to check on your reactions. His hands, which are so familiar you think you’d know them only by touch, wander over your thighs and up your stomach to your breasts. They don’t stay in one place for long, instead running all over your skin and leaving goosebumps in their wake. 

You’ve always liked Satori’s hands. Ever since you met him, you’ve thought they were nice. They’ve got a gentle look to them. They’re big and his fingers are long, but they’re thin, with smooth and somewhat knobby knuckles from injuring them so often in volleyball. They’ve always been hands that you wanted to be touched by and now that they’re running softly over your skin, you find yourself shivering at the overload of sensitive touches. 

Every one of Satori’s touches are gentle. Even his tongue between your legs, which winds the coil in your stomach tighter and tighter, is gentle in his appreciation for you. It’s like he’s experimenting ever so slightly, like he’s cherishing you while simultaneously figuring out what makes you tick. He already knows everything about you in a platonic sense, now he gets to learn in a sexual sense. 

Still, despite the gentleness of his touches, it is all too much. His hands, his mouth, the feel of his tongue as he sucks on your clit. Even just the way he looks, eyes closed and brows pulling upwards, is overwhelming. He moves his face side to side slowly, smearing you across his face, before he looks at you with low lidded eyes. 

The knot in your stomach tightens and you begin to swelter. Your face grows hot, lightheadedness flooding the space between your ears as you’re worked closer and closer to your high. You gasp, reaching to run a hand over his buzzed hair. 

He reaches up behind his head and knots his fingers with yours at either of your sides. You squirm against him, desperate as you build higher and higher. Satori groans lightly as you choke out a light warning, trying your best to not sound as broken as you feel. He nods, lapping at your cunt with a flat tongue until you feel you are fit to burst. Your chest heaves, your head spins, you begin to peak and then, Satori stops. 

Your voice catches in your throat. It’s a feeble, pitiful sound that catches and tapers into a low whine. You buck your hips forward, legs feeling like white-hot sandbags as your climax slips steadily away from you. 

Satori tilts his head at you, giving a wry grin. His signature smile is coated in you and his mouth and chin glistens in a way that feels incredibly vulgar. You tremble lightly as he wipes his face with the back of his arm and sits back on his heels. You watch the heave of his chest, lean muscle shifting underneath pleasantly warm skin. Starry freckles dot pleasantly across his chest and you briefly wonder where on earth he got them. 

As the frustration wanes, you find yourself wanting to be closer to him, desperate to build your high back up. 

“I kind of liked that reaction,” he drones lightly, leaning over you as you beckon him. 

“You’re such an asshole,” you breathe out, catching his mouth with yours. 

He hums into it, lips curling as he kisses you softly. 

“Uh oh,” he says against your mouth, “am I on your bad side now?” 

“Yeah,” you respond, reaching down between you both to run your hand lightly over the bulge in his boxers, “the worst of it.” 

Your response is absent-minded and quiet, not retaining your usually snarky attitude. Right now, the only thing you’re thinking about are the points of contact between you and Satori. There’s only touch. 

Satori doesn’t respond, instead letting his head hang between you both as you reach under his waistband and wrap your hands around him for the first time. He’s long and not particularly thick and you drag your hand up the length of him just to test his size. Satori’s so hard that you think it must hurt him, his tip wet with precum. 

He shudders over you, his shoulders tightening as you run your thumb over the tip of him. He’s more sensitive than you would have expected and you tilt your head slightly to watch the way he screws his eyes shut. 

He looks so new to you like this. Everything is new. It’s so new, in fact, that you can push aside your own desperation in favor of witnessing it. Though the person is familiar, the situation is not. It makes you feel like a virgin. Well, it makes you feel like a virgin and not a virgin at the same time. You’re having fun just playing with him, running your fingers along the length of him. It’s like getting to show him what you know, all with the butterflies of a virgin. 

You suppose he feels the same. Maybe that’s why he’s got his head tilted down, only looking up to give you a strained smile whenever the head of his cock brushes your slick cunt. 

There’s so much feeling. That’s the only way you can describe it. There is so much feeling between you both, humming and shifting and pressing against your sternums from the outside, begging to be let in. It’s tangible between the two of you, so present that you think you could grab it with your hand, but neither of you move to take it. Instead, you press closer, letting it sit heavy in the air between your faces. 

Satori doesn’t move to push himself inside of you and you don’t move to guide him there. Instead, you let the tip of him press lightly against you, running your fingers up and down it. The tension, made up of your frustration and feelings, balloons until you are certain it will burst. Your lower stomach winds and coils despite how gentle the touches are and desire makes its way into your throat where it sits leaded and heavy. 

He groans lightly over you, his hips shaking lightly with how long he’s been holding himself there. You run one hand over the curve of his shoulders, feeling the way the lean muscle shifts as he tenses and untenses. 

Finally, he pushes past the tight ring of your cunt with a low whine and you move to wrap your hands around him. The pads of your fingers press into his back, leaving marks in skin that you’ve seen a hundred times over. He trembles over you and your focus is pulled between your legs where you feel the pressure of Satori there. He presses forward until his hips are flush with yours and you’re made breathless by the sticky pressure of his pelvis against yours. 

He stays still for a while, tilting his head to the side to catch your mouth. You feel his breath come in quick bursts, but he never moves to fully kiss you, instead brushing his lips against yours as if to draw the desperation from it. You grow antsier by the moment, pushed to frustration quickly by the stillness of his hips and the distance of his mouth from you. When a low whine escapes your mouth, Satori smiles silently and flicks his hips forward once. 

You tip your head back and Satori chases your mouth, finally kissing you lightly as he starts to rock back and forth. 

He finds a slow rhythm. It’s deep and overwhelming, each thrust pushing deep into you until you feel the press of pressure in your stomach. He doesn’t so much thrust his hips as he does roll them at steady intervals, pressing the tip of himself up and into that gummy spot inside of you. 

You’re sticky between the legs. You can feel it each time he pushes into you, dripping from your pussy down to the mattress. Satori smears it with his hips on purpose. You can tell from his expression that he’s enjoying the mess, his familiar face watching for your reactions as he experiments with you. 

“You’re so fucking pretty,” he says through gritted teeth. His hand comes up to brush the side of your cheek. 

You don’t know how to answer, cut open by the affection in his voice and the way pleasure sews itself through. 

“You’ve always been so pretty,” he says again, bending down to kiss your neck. “But you’re even prettier like this. I don’t want to share it.” 

You shiver, “Then don’t.” 

Satori hums lightly, dragging his mouth down your chest to take a nipple in his mouth. He speaks around it. “I like the way you sound when you try and talk while I’m fucking you. Talk s’more.” 

The sentence is so dirty that it feels like your face is lit on fire, “No.” 

“Come on,” he teases, popping your nipple from his mouth and sitting up completely. He hits you deeper like this and you feel him twitch inside of you. “Just a little?” 

“Satori,” you whine a little, breathless. “I’m embarrassed.” 

“Of what?” He questions, reaching to take your hand and press it to your stomach. 

“I don’t know,” you grunt, gasping when he adds pressure to your stomach. 

“Of that?” he grins, fucking his hips into you sharply. You can hear the sound of your wetness. 

“Yeah,” you gasp, “that.” 

“Don’t be,” he mumbles, leaning over you again to speak against your mouth. “It’s really hot.” 

Your stomach flips, turning over as the pressure and his words come to a head in the space between your ears. Your cheeks heat and your stomach seems to roll beneath your skin. You’ve heard Tendou say all sorts of things about all sorts of people, but for some reason, the idea that he finds you hot sends you syrupy. 

“Satori,” you breathe out, tipping your head back to let him nip again at the sink on your neck. 

“Hm?” 

“Nothing,” you sigh. “Just wanted to say it.” 

“Again,” he says, punctuating his sentence with his hips. 

“Satori.” 

He groans, laughing a little. “Sounds different when you say it now.” 

He’s right. You’ve said his name a million times, but it sounds different now. There’s more intimacy to it, like you’re not just calling to him, but for him. The distinction to you is important and the sharp sound of the syllables leaving your mouth only serve to heighten your desire. 

Pressure mounts in your gut like water against a dam. You feel it build there while Satori presses his hips deeper. You repeat his name, embarrassed but calling out for him nonetheless. He obliges every time, meeting your pleas with heavy sighs that give away the closeness of his peak. 

“I’m gonna-” you choke, grabbing at his shoulders. 

“Yeah, baby,” he breathes, “me too. Whenever you’re ready, okay?” 

You nod, meeting your high with a dizzy head. Satori holds you still while your hips buck and your knees buckle beneath him. He follows not long after, spurred on by the press of your thighs around his hips. 

It takes a long while to come down. The haziness fades away but even after several long minutes, the glow does not. It sticks you to both like summer heat, inescapable and rich. Satori plays with the small baby hairs by your forehead and you let him, resting your cheek on his sticky chest. You’re not sure of what to say. It’s difficult to orient yourself. 

“Shit,” he mutters softly. 

“What?” Your stomach drops. 

“Nothing,” he says, running a hand down his face. “I think I’ve just got it way worse for you than I thought.” 

“Oh,” you say, nodding, letting silence settle over both of you before you break it once again. “I think I love you.” 

“Yeah?” he says quietly, lifting his head from the pillow a little. 

“Mhm,” you say softly. 

Satori presses his smile into the side of your head. 

“I’m a little nervous,” you say, laughing quietly. 

“Of what?” He grins. “That you’re gonna like me too much?” 

You slap his chest lightly, “Definitely not.” 

“Harsh,” he laughs a little. 

“I’m nervous because what if things don’t work?” you admit quietly. “We’ve known each other for so long, Satori, but what if one day we can’t stand each other? What if in the future we don’t even talk anymore?” 

“You trying to jinx it?” he laughs a little. 

“No,” you pout. 

“Well, look,” he says, lips curling in the corners, “there’s no way in hell I could ever get tired of you and I’d never let you get rid of me. I’ve been haunting you since we were 13 and I don’t really plan to stop.” 

“Haunting?” You scoff. “You know, Satori, you’re really fucking weird.” 

“That right, baby?” 

“Eugh,” you laugh a little. “Gross.” 

Satori shrugs. 

“I’m still upset you didn’t tell me about France either.” 

“I know,” he says a little softer. “I really-”

“You don’t have to defend yourself,” you say. “I think I’m just going to be mad about it for a while. You’ll just have to put up with me.” 

“Okay,” his voice sounds small and you turn over onto your stomach and press your forehead to his chest. 

“Everything feels so complicated now,” you say softly.

“Hey,” he tilts your chin up. “Do you love me?” 

“Yeah,” you answer, fighting the heat rising to your cheeks. 

“Good,” he says, giving you a boyish grin. “I love you too. That’s not so complicated, right?” 

The words of affection feel strange in the same way new shoes do. They fit, but they’re foreign. You have to orient yourself to the way they make you feel, but the joy of wearing them hums to life in your chest like a stringed instrument. Satori’s lips curl into a cheeky grin and the expression is so familiar that it makes you ache. It’s mischievous, like he’s not quite being serious and if you didn’t know him better, it would make you nervous. But you do know him better. You nod lightly and let his smile infect you the same way it has since you were 13. 

The glow remains. 

—

Sa-to-ri <3: you ready? 

You: ya coming now. 

Sa-to-ri <3: kk i’m outside. 

Your heart leaps into your chest. It swells there, heavy and affection filled. When you step outside, Satori looks up at you, pressing his palm to the wall behind him and pushing forward in one fluid motion. You watch recognition flash across his face the same way you feel it flash across yours and then, his eyes soften. His lips melt into an affectionate and easy going grin as you approach him. 

You fly down the steps, unable to choke back the small laugh bubbling at the back of your throat. 

“Satori,” you breathe as he takes you into his arms. You bury your face in the extra fabric of his sweatshirt, inhaling his familiar smell.

“Hi,” he chimes softly. You feel him rest his head on yours then, he sways a little bit. 

“I really missed you,” you sigh, unwilling to let go. 

“I missed you too,” he laughs a little and you feel his fingers come up to cradle the back of your head. 

How long has it been since you’ve seen him? Four months? Maybe five? Since moving to France, he’s come back to visit once for only a few days and though you talk to him on the phone almost every day, it’s not enough. It’s never enough unless he’s here. 

When you pull away, he takes your face in both of his hands and looks at you like he’s cataloging everything that’s changed about you since you were separated. His eyes trace the lines of your face and yours do the same to his. 

“You got prettier,” he smiles lightly. 

“Liar,” you laugh a little.

“Nope.” 

Satori leans forward and places his mouth on yours gently. You suck in a sharp inhale, heart racing against your ribcage. Even a year later, he still makes your heart leap out of your chest. You missed the way he tastes, relieved to finally be able to taste him again. 

“You buzzed your hair short again, baldy,” you laugh, reaching up to run your hand over the spiked surface of it. 

Satori rolls his eyes, They glide upwards as his head follows the motion of them and then, he scuffs the tip of his shoe against the floor. He’s wearing a pair of worn black high top converse. You’ve seen them many times before in the entryway of his old apartment, but in his time away they’ve become so well worn that they’re gray in certain areas. 

Tendou gives you a wry smile. It’s a ghost across his face as he narrows his eyes a bit in a familiar way. “Easier to manage this way at school.” 

“Mm, I bet. You sure you’re not just losing hair?” You tease. 

“Even if I were, I think you’d date me anyway.” 

“You got me,” you laugh, turning to walk down the street with him. 

Satori’s fingers automatically tangle with yours. You feel his knuckles slide past your own, the tips of his fingers cool but his palm warm and wide. Your mind runs at a mile a minute and you realize that you have no idea what to say to him. Right now, his familiarity and your longing for it are overwhelming. All of your thoughts are abstract and the warm, fuzzy feelings are unplaceable. They live in your throat. 

Instead of talking, you look over at him. The hair he’s just recently buzzed again highlights the delightful round shape of his head and you think it suits him. He looks clean and trimmed, something unusual for Satori, but you don’t find yourself missing his shoulder length hair. Instead, you like this metamorphosed version of him, somehow grown from the man he was when he left. You resist the urge to reach up and run your hand over the top of it again. 

It’s nearly 9pm and, as usual, the sidewalk is littered with people on their way home or out with friends. Girls pass Tendou in the street with little glances. They peek to the side as he walks past them, admiring the sway in his step and the alluring way he slouches forward the way they always have. These same girls giggle into their mouths the same way they always do. It’s easier to see now that you know how to feel about him, that Tendou is attractive. He’s always been that way, but now, as these girls whisper about you being his girlfriend, you find yourself giddy to be able to say that you are. 

You take stock of him beside you. He’s long and lean, staring ahead at the building just beyond the sidewalk in its seemingly endless stretch into the sky. His eyes slink back and forth between the screens illuminating the street with ads and every now and then, his gaze will stop on one he finds interesting and he will squeeze your hand. You watch him through the corner of your eye until you have to look away. 

The walk to the ramen shop is longer from your apartment than Tendou’s old one, but it’s familiar. You’ve not been back there since Tendou first moved to France last September. Still, each step that you take feels so natural that you could do it blind. 

When you reach the familiar ramen shop by Tendou’s old apartment, you notice that the blue curtains in front of the door have been replaced. The kanji is cleaner now and the bottom isn’t fraying quite the same way it used to. Tendou still holds them to the side for you, unlacing your fingers and ducking through the doorway after you. When you walk in, you find that now there are two ramen chefs behind the counter. The old chef, the one you grew up with, is toward the back of the bar and in front is a young man with features like his. 

You settle evenly into the bar, smiling softly at Tendou when he looks at you. When the old ramen chef sees you, the corners of his eyes crinkle in a welcoming smile. 

“It’s been a long time since you two have been here! What’s been keeping you away?” he exclaims, placing his hands on the bar. “The same usual orders?” 

“Oh, this and that,” Satori hums. “I moved to France and they hate coming here alone.” 

“That so?” The chef smiles. 

You both nod and Tendou slips into an easygoing rapport with the man, leaning his chin onto his hand as he talks. You watch the way the muscles in his arm flex and the way the corners of his mouth curl into a smile, sinking quickly into the comfort of the space. 

“You two together yet?” The chef glances between the both of you. 

Satori leans back lightly, looking sideways at you before he shrugs his shoulders. He doesn’t offer a verbal answer and you find yourself following suit in his shrug. 

“Yup, we’re in love,” you say, leaning forward and fighting the heat that rises to your cheeks. 

The chef waits for your subsequent denial but when it never comes, he smiles knowingly and pats the counter softly. He doesn’t offer his usual chiding remark. There’s no reason to anymore and instead he turns to fix your bowls. The soup will take 8 minutes to prepare. You have 8 minutes to sit here with Tendou and ask him everything you want to ask before you both become inevitably engrossed in your meals the way you always have. Tendou no longer adopts that signature spacey look he would have at times like these.

“How’s Paris?” you ask. 

Tendou’s eyes slink along his lower water line and he turns his head—still resting on his cheek—to look at you. “It’s good. Kinda cold. Make sure you bring lots of jackets.” 

You nod and think back to your apartment, filled with boxes that will be moved out and shipped ahead to Tendou’s Parisian apartment. All of your things, your life, are packed into those boxes. Scores of memories and matter, evidence of the years spent with him, neatly organized to be transplanted somewhere else. The apartment itself doesn’t matter much though, your home, you’ve found, is wherever he is. 

“Yeah? How’s school?” You lean forward to be closer to him. 

“Really good,” he sighs a little. “I’m really happy. Gonna be happier when you’re out there to see me graduate though.” 

“I’ll be there to see the other stuff too, like when you open your own shop.” 

“Mhm,” he laughs a little. “Did I send you the picture of the new place I was thinking of?” 

You shake your head a little. “Not yet, show me now.” 

Satori gives you an excited grin before he pulls out his phone to show you. The tab is already open on his phone, like he’d been staring at it only moments earlier and daydreaming about his future there. It’s on a street corner with big glass windows. The space looks empty from the photos, already cleared out and ready for him to move in. 

You can just barely see past the clear glass door into the cozy space inside. In fact, it looks to be only a little larger than the ramen shop you’re in now. 

“It’s got an apartment upstairs,” he says, a little quieter now. “I was thinking we could tour it once you get out there. I’ve already put in an application.” 

You bite back a giddy smile, the prospect of living with him becoming more real as he talks to you about it. There are several things you’re grateful for since you started seeing him, though perhaps one of your favorites is his continued openness with his wants and feelings. Even this small conversation makes you feel loved in a way that you have trouble describing. It’s so full that you have trouble swallowing it. 

“‘Course, you’ll stay with me in my old apartment till it’s all squared away,” he smiles a little. “I’ve got enough room, though it might be a little tight.” 

“I hope so,” you laugh a little, rolling your eyes. “I’m really relieved.” 

“Relieved? Why?” He gives you a small laugh. “You like being that close to me?” 

You shrug a little, rolling your eyes at his gentle tease. “I was worried you’d get out there and realize everything was wrong… or something.” 

“Weird of you, but okay,” he laughs a little, playing with your hand on the table. 

“Though you’d really be fine anywhere,” you laugh a little. “I think you’re just that kind of person, Satori.” 

“Only if you’re in my corner,” he says, giving you a sly grin. You shove his arm at the cheesy remark. Despite dating for a little over a year now, things like that catch you off guard. After all, in hindsight, being with him like this was the next natural step, you’d just been too stubborn to see it. 

It’s been a long while since the two of you have spoken in person and you soak him up like sunshine. He seeps into your skin through proximity alone. The distance made you nervous at first. Though you’ve gotten over the initial lie that separated and then brought you together, for some reason there was still some part of you that felt that when Satori left for Paris, he was leaving forever. You know now that that feeling was just your affection for him, but it doesn’t make the relief any less sweet. 

You can recall the teary-eyed confession he made like it was yesterday. The image of him with his hands at his side, asking if you loved him is burned into your brain. If you could go back, you don’t think you would change a thing. Your only regret was not being able to formulate those vague feelings which became so overpowering earlier. If you’d known earlier, you’d have been able to have loved him longer. You’d have been able to consciously love him the way you do now, the way you think you always have. Loving Satori comes easily, like breathing, up until that summer you’d just been too young and dumb to see it, your head underwater. It’s only been a little over a year, but hindsight is 20/20. 

When silence falls over the two of you, you lean close and let him scroll through the pictures from his time in France. You’re so deeply content. You’re so prepared to move to be near him, so ready to take that next leap and follow where he goes. It’s a secure feeling, one that grounds you in the moment. 

The chef places two bowls in front of you and Satori perks up, sliding his phone away and moving to crack garlic into his soup. He hands you the chili oil, remembering how you like yours and you smile warmly when his eyes meet yours. If you could, you’d kiss him right now just for remembering. The smell of ramen wafts up in thick clouds of steam, hitting your face with warm and heavy moisture as you lean over it and inhale. 

“It’s none of my business but,” the chef says, clearing his throat a little, “you both have been coming here for a long time and I think you’ve grown into fine young people. Take care of each other.” 

You’re too emotional to find the words, but the chef looks at you with something of a fond stare. He’s known you both long enough to understand to some degree how long it’s taken to get where you are. You stare with a childlike wonder, unable to say anything to this man who created the space you found so inviting through your adolescence, but Satori finds the words easily.

“It’ll be my privilege,” he smiles, the corners of his mouth turning. 

It’s such a simple statement, but it’s definitive and somewhat serious for Tendou. It implies longevity, the kind that lasts a lifetime. He sounds so certain of himself that you find yourself nodding firmly beside him, heat rushing to your cheeks. 

“Eat up, kids,” the chef smiles, glancing between you both and patting the counter with a smile. 

Tendou thanks him and you stare at the noodles in your bowl, feeling oddly introspective. What you’re feeling now is not quite elation, nor is it indifference. The best you could describe it is as a hopeful nostalgia. Beside you, Tendou begins to slurp at his noodles and when you glance sideways at him, he meets you in the middle. You can’t help but mirror him when he smiles around his chopsticks. 

You eat your ramen through idle conversation. Tendou talks about his future shop and you talk about the job you’ve managed to secure overseas with your previous experience from the company you’ve worked at the past year. You both have stable jobs now and it’s strange to talk about your future together as if it has already arrived. 

Suddenly, you are in your third year again, discussing futures that have long passed after an evening practice. Satori is in his volleyball sweater, concealing a sweat-drenched uniform, and you are wearing your skirt with sweatpants underneath it. That’s what this feels like. You’re no longer in the in-between. There is no precarious balance between past and present. There is only future. There’s only the future that you’re living in and the one you’ve both begun to make with each other. The in-between, that space between adulthood and adolescence where present and future find their middle ground, is finally beyond you. Though you can sit here and glance behind to recall all of those little choices, you’re here now, already arrived at the place where all of it has always led you. 

Two people, two collections of memories, each winding and twisting in their own individual ways. They’re what makes you both, the decisions that have brought you to this inevitable finish and this endless beginning. You remember the choice to say yes and it is with a nostalgic fondness that you realize, in all of your future glory, that there are more choices to come.

In this little ramen shop where your past meets your future, you and Tendou Satori, the boy you’ve known since 13, in the after. 

#tendou x reader #tendou satori x reader #tendou x reader smut #tendou satori smut #tendou smut #satori x reader #[ 📕 – writing ] #WAAAGHHH OKAY TEE HEE IM FINALLY POSTING SOMETHING NEW LOLL

[babydollmarauders]

SWEET SWEET BABY — JACK HUGHES

part of the el!hughes au

summary: in which y/n (lovie) gives birth to their baby boy

warnings: reference to porn (?), birth

notes: THIS TAKES PLACE IN APRIL 2024! (2.8k words)

not my gif

“five more days.”

Jack’s voice breaks me out of my reading trance, my eyes tearing away from my book that sits propped up on my overly large bump.

“hmm?” i hum, wincing as the baby pushes against my bladder.

Jack just smiles, he has one hand resting on my lower stomach, and the other holding our two-year-old to his chest as she naps.

“five more days,” he repeats, his sentence broken up by a yawn. “until his due date.”

“if he can stay in here that long.” i joke. it’s an ongoing worry of mine, that our baby boy is gonna come before his due-date like his sister did.

“he’ll do it.” Jack says confidently, looking down at my stomach. “right, little guy?”

our son, as though knowing his father is talking to him, kicks directly at Jack’s hand on my bump, resulting in a wide grin from Jack.

“told ya, Lovie.” he looks back at me, “he’ll wait. he just told us so.”

“go take your nap!” i laugh, pushing at his legs with my foot.

“okay, well i’m taking her with me.” he sticks his tongue out at me as he stands up, clutching Eleanor tightly to his chest with his good arm as he does so.

“that’s fine with me. peace and quiet.” i sigh, “maybe i’ll actually get to finally finish my book.”

“you mean your porn?” Jack teases, bending over to press a kiss to my forehead.

“it’s not porn! it’s romance!”

“porn with a plot!” his words are spoken with a dismissive wave of his hand in his post-surgery sling as he walks toward our bedroom.

“shut up!” Luke’s voice drifts out from his bedroom, and i can only imagine him with his pillow pressed against his ear. “i don’t wanna hear your freaky sex talk! some of us are trying to have a pregame nap!”

Jack throws his head back in laughter, the tips of my ears turning red at Luke’s assumption.

“go to sleep, before you upset my son.” i huff, waving Jack off.

“our son can’t get upset yet.” he reminds me, his brows furrowing in confusion.

“i know. i said my son.” i tell him. “Luke.”

“oh my god.” Jack groans, rolling his eyes before he turns and finally disappears down the hallway.

i hear our bedroom door click shut and let out a sigh of contentment.

Jack hasn’t given me any room to breathe for the past couple days. ever since we hit one week until the due-date, which is how early i had El, Jack has been hovering nonstop, just in case the baby decides he’s ready to make his grand entrance. but finally, it’s the last game of the regular season tonight, and with Jack, Luke, and El all taking naps, i get a couple hours to myself.

just me, my book, and the unborn child in my womb that is currently dancing on my bladder.

i heave out a sigh, bookmarking my page and shutting my book, letting it fall to the couch as i struggle to push myself up.

damnit, i should’ve had Jack help me up to pee before he went to sleep.

i finally, successfully, rise from the couch, waddling over to the bathroom and making it to the toilet just in time.

after washing my hands, i head into the kitchen and grab myself a water bottle and the tupperware of pre-cut fruit that Jack had prepared for me this morning, before making my way back to the couch.

**

my head is pounding, light pains in my stomach as i sit on the floor, waiting up for Jack and Luke to get home.

the Devils lost to the Islanders 4-1, and i know both the boys are gonna need cheering up. even though Jack sat in a suite the entire game and didn’t play, i know he feels the loss just as hard as the rest of his teammates.

El is wired from her two naps of the day, currently decked out in a princess dress with a lab coat over it as she plays doctor, checking my bump for any ‘boo-boo’s, but i don’t have the energy to fight her on going to bed.

El’s play stethoscope is pressed against my bump, her wild blonde curls falling over her eyes as she looks down.

“mama.” she whispers, standing up straight and cupping my face.

“yes, lovely?” i coo, tucking a curl behind her ear.

“baby heart!” she points to my stomach, bending back down to press her plastic stethoscope against the stretched out fabric of my shirt.

“yeah? are you listening to the babies heart?” she nods enthusiastically, the stethoscope bouncing from its connection in her ears.

she rips it out though when she hears the front door unlock, her head snapping up towards the living room entrance, waiting to see who it is.

as soon as Jack rounds the corner, her little legs take off; her feet slapping against the hardwood floor as she runs over to him.

“daddy!” Jack’s face brightens at the sight of her, a small smile playing on his lips as he bends down, allowing El to wrap her arms around his neck.

“hi, lovely.” Jack presses a kiss to her cheek as she pulls back. “what are you still doing up? how come mommy didn’t put you to bed?”

“mommy, doesn’t have a single ounce of energy left to fight her into bed.” i sigh, letting my head fall back onto the sofa.

“uncle Luke’s got it.” Luke swoops in, pulling El up into his arms. “c’mon munchkin, you wanna wear your Elsa jammie’s tonight?”

“dark vader!” El screams, making Luke wince as he starts toward the hallways to her room.

“what has uncle Quinn done to you?” he shakes his head as they retreat.

Jack sighs, looking down at me on the floor. he huffs out a chuckle and shakes his head at me as i stretch grabby hands out to him, walking over and helping me up off the floor.

“you okay?” i run a hand through his overgrown hair, staring into his ocean blue eyes.

“yeah,” he starts, pausing when he sees me flinch. “are you?”

“mhm.” i nod, gritting my teeth as a sharp pain shoots through my abdomen and back.

“are you sure?” he asks, flattening the back of his hand to my forehead as if checking my temperature. i swat it away. “Lovie, if we need to go to the hospital, just tell me. better safe than sorry.”

“we don’t-” i’m cut off by El storming into the living room in her Darth Vader onesie, Luke chasing behind her with her toothbrush in hand.

“we gotta brush your teeth Ellie-Bug!” Luke catches up to her with his long legs, but not before she can try and scramble up my body, her hands pushing against my stomach and causing me to cringe in pain.

“alright, that’s it, we’re going.” Jack announces, stepping back.

“no.” i stand my ground, crossing my arms across my chest. “i’m fine, Jack. it’s just a few pains. nothing i can’t handle.”

and my words would’ve been believable, if it weren’t for the gush of liquid that begins to trickle down my legs.

“fuck.” i curse, squeezing my eyes shut as Jack retreats to the linen closet to retrieve a towel.

“mommy! potty! go!” El screams, her little index finger pointing towards the bathroom.

“no, lovely, mommy doesn’t need to potty.” i lift a foot as Jack sets a towel down to soak up the liquid, oddly calm given the circumstances.

“hey, sunshine,” Jack’s voice is soft as he squats down in front of our toddler. “you know how mommy and daddy have been telling you baby brother is in mommy’s tummy?”

“baby!” El squeals, making to come and rub my bump like she usually does, but Jack holds her back.

“yeah, a baby!” Jack grins, “well now baby brother is ready to come and meet you, doesn’t that sound fun?”

my eyes water at the calm and gentle approach he has to explaining the situation to our sweet girl, and how excited she seems to get as she nods her head.

“okay, so mommy and daddy are gonna go to the doctor’s, and uncle Luke is gonna stay here with you. is that okay?”

“yuke!” she shouts, her head whipping around to find Luke, who’s currently attending to me as i waddle towards my bedroom to get changed.

“i’m right here, munchkin.” Luke switches places with my husband, probably the better choice, as i’ll need someone to help me peel these leggings off and put new ones on, and i think Luke and i would both rather he not be the one to do it.

Jack makes quick work of helping me sit on our bed, peeling my leggings and underwear off before he helps me into new ones.

“you ready, love?” i question, suspiciously eyeing him and his strangely serene demeanor.

“shouldn’t i be asking you that question?” he smiles, helping me off the bed.

“oh, i know i’m not. but are you?” he guides me back out to the living room, past El’s bedroom, where i can hear Luke reading her a bedtime story, and towards the front door.

“yeah.” he nods as he opens the door. “i’m ready.”

“oh good. then, can you push him out for me?” Jack laughs loudly, helping me into the car.

“unfortunately, i can’t do that.” he reminds me, my lips turning down in a frown. “but i’ll tell you what i can do.”

he pauses to round the car, sliding into the drivers seat. his hand slips into mine, lacing our fingers together as he looks into my eyes.

“i can hold your hand, and remind you that at the end of all that pushing, we’re gonna have our baby boy.” his forehead rests against mine, dipping down to kiss my lips before he pulls away and begins driving to the hospital.

“fuck you and your sweet words.” i sigh, gripping the car door and squeezing his hand as another contraction comes along. “shit!”

**

sweat drips down my forehead as i push. Jack stands beside me, his hand tightly clutched in mine as he whispers reassuring words in my ear.

“i want my mom!” i sob, tears streaming down my cheeks as i stop pushing, looking towards Jack, who’s eyes are welled up with tears.

“i’m sorry,-” he pushes my hair back from sticking to my forehead.

“i want Ellen!” i clarify, squeezing my eyes shut as another contraction hits and i’m forced to begin pushing again.

“oh lovie,” my husband coos, resting his forehead against the side of my head. “mom is on her way. i promise.”

we were lucky in the sense that Ellen and Jim had already flew into town yesterday to attend the boys game tonight and wait for baby boy to arrive. but my labor happened so fast, that he had just gotten ahold of Ellen before i was told it was time to push.

“okay, take a breath, y/n.” the doctor speaks, “i can see his head crowning so this next push should be it.”

i take three deep breaths before i feel another contraction, pushing one last time before the sound of infant cries fill the room.

Jack squeezes my hand as i fall back on the hospital bed, after labor chills making my body shake.

“good job, mom!” the doctor cheers, “you have a seemingly healthy baby boy!”

the nurse rests him against my chest, handing him over to me, and i let out another sob at the sight of him.

“oh-” i stare down at his sweet face, running a finger along his cheek. “Jacky, he has your nose.”

i glance up at my husband, who looks at our baby with so much love; as if he’s the greatest thing in the world. his tears have finally spilled over, his hand reaching out to hold the back of our son’s head.

“he’s perfect, lovie.” his voice breaks, catching in his throat mid-sentence.

“our perfect baby boy.”

**

“he’s an angel.” Ellen coos, staring down at the baby in her arms.

“isn’t he perfect?” i smile softly, still waking up from my nap.

its now eight in the morning, and after the four a.m. birth and then first feeding an hour later, i only got three hours of sleep before Jack woke me up and told me his mother was getting restless to see her grandson and he knew i wanted to witness the meeting.

Luke and El should be arriving any moment, so we’re letting Jim and Ellen meet him before they get here.

“absolutely perfect.” Ellen smiles, looking back at Jack and i. my husband lays beside me in the hospital bed, his head resting on my shoulder as he snores.

i can’t imagine how tired he must be. he stayed awake the entire time i napped, just admiring our baby boy and attempting to do some one armed skin-on-skin with the help of a nurse; who advised better of my husband than to use his other arm, which is still in a sling after his shoulder surgery just six days prior.

“he has Jack’s nose.” Jim chuckles as his wife hands the baby off to him.

“that’s what i said.” i grin, turning my head to look down at my sleeping soulmate. i crane my neck, pecking a kiss to his nose, which makes him scrunch it in his sleep.

the room door swings open, Luke stepping through with El clutched in his arms, and i carefully shake Jack awake.

“hmm?” he groans, his eyes fluttering open before he sits up.

“El is here.” i whisper, just before our daughter squeals.

“mommy! daddy!” Luke sets her on the hospital bed and she clambers up our legs, gingerly settling down on Jack’s lap and wrapping her arms around his neck.

“hi, lovely. did you have a good night with uncle Luke?” Jack asks, huffing out a laugh at the sight of her messily done ponytail. she nods, her curls bouncing on top of her head.

“her hair is wild, don’t blame me.” Luke huffs, taking the baby from his father’s arms.

“oh my god, he’s precious.” Luke smiles softly at the baby in his arms as he walks toward the bed.

“you see your baby brother, El?” i question, and her eyes widen as Luke hands my son back to me.

my daughter’s lips part, her hand reaching out to touch the babies foot.

“baby?” she whispers, looking up at Jack and he nods.

“yeah, lovely. that’s the baby that was in mommy’s tummy.” her eyes flicker between the baby and my stomach at his words, and i giggle.

“yeah, there’s nothing in there anymore, lovebug.” i tell her.

“baby.” she repeats, her touch raising to his tiny hands.

“hey, mom?” Jack calls out, Ellen looking over at him with raised brows. “you mind facetiming Quinny?”

“yeah, of course.” she nods, digging her phone out of her purse.

i feel a slight twinge of guilt as i hear the facetime ring, feeling a little bad to be waking Quinn up at five in the morning on a game day, but i know he’ll be excited to see the baby.

“mom? what’s up?” Quinn’s voice is groggy when the call connects, and instead of answering, Ellen just hands the phone to Jack.

“hey, Quinny.” my husband grins, letting El wave hello to her uncle.

“hey Jacky, hi El-Bell.” Quinn rubs his eyes, sitting up in his bed. “what’s going on? i have a game tonight, bro.”

“i know. but, i thought you might wanna meet someone.” Jack flips the phone around, pointing it to me and i hold the baby up better so that Quinn can see.

“oh my god.” Quinn’s seemingly more awake now, bringing the phone closer to his face. “you had him.”

tears well in my eyes, an overwhelming sense of longing for my big brother figure’s presence creeping up on me as i nod.

“i had him.” i confirm.

“he’s beautiful, guys.” Quinn smiles as Jack slots himself and El into the frame, showing off all four of us. “what’s his name?”

i share a glance with Jack and he nods, giving me permission.

“Elio Quintin Hughes.” i smile softly, my tears spilling over my waterline as Quinn gapes.

i hear Ellen let out a little sob, and i glance over to find Jim pulling her in for a hug.

“you named him after… me?” Quinn asks, and even through the phone screen, i can see tears glistening in his eyes.

Jack nods.

“it only seemed right.” i explain. “if it weren’t for you, Jack and i wouldn’t have met. you guys are the family that i desperately wished for growing up, and if it weren’t for you, i wouldn’t have it now either.”

tears stain Quinn’s cheeks, “i love you, y/n. and you too, i guess, Jack.”

Jack laughs, huffing out a “we love you too.”

we stay on the call for another hour, letting El talk to her uncle, and us telling him how the birth went, before he excuses himself, telling us he should probably get a bit more sleep before morning skate.

Jack hands the phone back to Ellen, who snaps a picture of the four of us squished together in the hospital bed.

my little family.

#el!hughes au #jack hughes #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes imagine #jack hughes fic #jack hughes blurb #nj devils #nhl fic #nhl imagine #faithlynn’s writings <3

[adamstnheights]

I just want you to like me - Jake “Hangman” Seresin x F!Reader

Summary: You’re a bartender at the Hard Deck while completing grad school, which is how you met Jake Seresin. You and Jake began a “friends with benefits” type deal, using Jake’s aviation obligations and your education as reasoning why things couldn’t get too serious. Over the months, you have started to harbor deeper feelings towards him, afraid to speak up about it and potentially ruin everything you have with him. But when Jake returns from a two-month mission, your feelings for him reach a turning point in a moment of self-consciousness.

A/N: I’ve been slowly working on this fic for months ever since I got into Top Gun and TGM! I kept adding things and trying to edit and I finally felt ready to post! <3

Content: Friends with Benefits to Lovers, Self-Esteem Issues, Past of Bad Relationships, Mutual Pining, Idiots in Love, Confessions, Jake doesn’t know how to deal with feelings, Consent, Smut, Cunnilingus, Fingering, Unprotected Sex, Riding, Flirting, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Fear of Dying, Fear of Rejection, Reassurance, Bestie Phoenix and Bestie Penny, Wearing Jake’s Helmet, Military Inaccuracies

18+ content, MINORS DNI!!!!

Word Count: 14.6k

“Oh, shit, you’ve got to be kidding me,” you cover your face with your hands and duck behind the bar. Penny looks down at you as you cower next to a stack of haphazard boxes, laughing. She looks out over the crowd of people, her eyes catching the group of aviators who just arrived at the Hard Deck.

“Oh, come on, get your ass back up here!” Penny laughs, yanking at your shirt sleeve. “Are you seriously hiding from Hangman?” She sings his call sign in a teasing, singsong-y tone which makes you blush.

“I’m not hiding, I’m just… strategically placing myself so that he doesn’t see me!” You whisper urgently.

“You’re ridiculous! I’m not paying you to hide down there and repress your deep feelings for a Navy pilot,” she says and you sigh, leaning against your thighs to stand back up. You try to act naturally, like you were just picking something up off of the ground.

“I don’t have deep feelings for him,” you mutter in denial as Penny shakes her head, smirking.

You met Hangman six months ago when he first arrived at the Top Gun base for training. He’d caught your eye the very first time he stepped foot into the bar with the rest of the pilots, but you had tried to keep your distance. When you began grad school two years ago, you’d graciously taken a job at the Hard Deck and Penny quickly took you under her wing. After all this time working at the bar, you knew that these pilots came and went and certain types—Hangman’s type—were probably not the kind of pilot you would want to get involved with. But of course, Hangman must have sensed your trying not to get involved and did everything in his power to get involved.

Every time the Top Gun pilots would pile into the Hard Deck for a night of drinking, Hangman was instantly leaning against the bar and calling for you. Normally, you get annoyed to no end at patrons calling at you, as if you were merely their servant to get them drinks. But the way he called your name was sweet, and sometimes he even added a darlin’ afterwards, only making you blush more. He never just called you over to demand drinks; he would wait until you walked over to him and he would lean forward—eyes twinkling, cocky smile—and say your name again so you could say back: Hangman. And from there, a night of across-the-bar looks and some cocky, not-so-subtle flirting would ensue.

It didn’t take long for Penny to notice your flirting and the rest of Hangman’s squadmates did the same. Over time, you became close friends with some of the other pilots, especially Phoenix. She instantly picked up on the way that you looked at Hangman, and soon, it felt as if everyone in the bar were urging the two of you to get together. Despite the cheering from Hangman’s friends when one night you finally allowed him to take you out after your shift ended, he made sure to take your hand when you were out of everyone else’s earshot: I don’t mean to force you to do this. Things with the crew kinda got out of hand and I’m sorry if you felt pressured by me asking you in front of everyone else— But you had cut him off by cupping his jaw, leaning up, and kissing him sweetly on the cheek. For once, you had made Hangman go silent in awe.

The two of you had fun. It was pretty much a friends with benefits deal; you knew before it even started that Hangman wasn’t the type to settle down or even commit, for that matter. But it was still more than any other fuck buddy situation you’ve ever been in. You’d spend hours in bed together, talking, laughing, and watching movies. Some nights your phone would ring and it would be Hangman telling you Let’s do something. And then the two of you would be driving down to the beach at sunset and walking along the shoreline and laughing and running back to your place and falling into bed.

You never could tell where exactly the two of you stood. Friends with benefits? More? The month before the two of you got together, you’d always see Hangman whisk some other woman away at the end of the night. His whole being was the definition of man-whore, and he couldn’t help but flirt around at the bar, especially when he was drunk and singing with the rest of his friends. Since you started spending a lot of time with him, you couldn’t recall any time he would go out of his way to flirt with anyone else or take anyone else home. But even so, you never really knew what to think.

And then he was called away. Well, not just him, of course. Some kind of a mission was in motion and Lieutenant Jake Seresin was called to be on the team. They would be gone for two months and you doubted that he would be able to stay in contact very much. Before he left, he didn’t bring up anything about what the “plan” was for the two of you and his silence about it only made you more scared to bring it up yourself. You’d gotten him all to yourself the night before he left and you didn’t want to ruin it by bringing up the worst question of all time: What are we?

He sent you the occasional text while he was away. You knew he was busy; obviously he had much more important things to focus on than you. But still, you couldn’t push down the pang in your heart when you laid in bed alone at night, wondering if there was any chance Jake was thinking about you. Two months felt like an eternity and you didn’t know if he would even want to talk to you when he returned.

So when Penny heard through the grapevine that the boys should be home in a few days, you completely shut down in self defense. You pushed down any rising hope you had that Hangman would walk through the doors and run towards you with his arms open wide. The plan would be to act as normal and casual as possible and not make it known that you were totally, utterly falling for Jake Seresin.

However, knowing that he’s right here in the room with you now, your hands begin to sweat and all of the confidence you had to not let Hangman distract you goes out the window immediately. You look at Penny and sigh as the booming voices of the newly returned pilots become louder. It was silly of you to have assumed the pilots would not be piling into the bar the second they got back to base. Rooster and Phoenix make a beeline to the piano and soon enough, the bar is filled with singing. You watch Hangman join in out of the corner of your eye, trying to busy yourself by rearranging the glasses behind the bar. Rooster plays a song and you watch as Hangman belts out the words, throwing his head back and slinging his arm around Coyote as everyone sings.

When the song is over, Hangman scans the room over but stops completely when he sees you. It feels as though the wind has been knocked out of him, seeing you after two months of being away. His heart swells as he makes his way over to you, clearing his throat and running his hand through his hair quickly.

You can tell Jake is moving towards you and you tense up, thoughts all jumbled, and now you have no idea what you’re supposed to say to him anymore. He leans against the bar, as always, and you look up at him slowly, casually, but the moment you meet his eyes you feel as though your heart is exploding. You curse Hangman and his stupid, stupid effect on you. Maybe you don’t notice, but Jake’s breath catches in his throat when he looks at you, but he pulls himself together quickly and leans even closer, his signature smirk spreading across his face. He says your name, like always.

“Hangman.” You reply, focusing way too hard on your voice not cracking.

Jake looks at you, his expression softening as the sight of you makes his heart soar. He suddenly feels a rare surge of insecurity; usually you’ll beam at him and play into his shameless flirting but instead you look shy, pulled back. Was something wrong? Before he met you, he could easily charm a woman into bed by the end of the night and if she happened to reject him, he was never bothered by it. He would shake it off and try again the next night. But with you, he could actually lose you. This terrifies him. He doesn’t want to fuck this up, and the slight change in your demeanor since the last time he saw you is beginning to freak him out. He tries to tread lightly.

“I missed seeing your pretty face, sweetheart,” he drops his voice low and looks deep into your eyes.

Your heart leaps but you try to play it cool. You raise your eyebrow and smirk, “Oh, did you now?” You can easily keep up with a night of flirting. It’s when the conversation lulls and you catch yourself staring and imagining your whole future with Jake that it becomes scary. The way Jake is leaned forward on the bar, he has to tip his head slightly upwards to look at you. He looks pretty gazing up at you through his eyelashes. He not-so-subtly lets his eyes dart down to your lips and you curse yourself as your cheeks grow red.

“Do you close tonight?” He asks.

“I do.” You want to throw yourself into Jake’s arms but you need to hold him at a distance. For now, at least. You’re not used to having him back in your life again. For the past 6 weeks with only the occasional good morning or good night text, your heart slowly broke as you had to adapt to the absence of him. You know it isn’t his fault, but you can’t help but feel guarded from simply opening your arms right back up again.

“Can I… Could I see you? After you close?” He looks down for a brief second, licking his lips nervously. You bite your bottom lip. Jake has always been sweet and respectful about asking. He would make demands jokingly and flirtingly, but you knew that he would not want to make you do anything you didn’t want to do. You can see that Jake really wants to see you, but he’s still asking. If you say no, you know he will respect it.

“Y-Yeah. If you hang back after, I’ll finish up closing and we can…” you trail off, not sure what you want to say exactly. You want to kiss him again, to feel the rush of tingles that his touch sends through your body, but you’re scared. “...We can take a walk on the beach.”

Jake breaks into a relieved smile, reaching his hand out to rest on top of yours. His touch is warm and you know how easily you can get drunk from it. “I’d like that,” Jake says. There’s a sparkle in his eye that you aren’t immune to so before you can stop yourself, you’re slowly reaching forward and pushing back a strand of hair that fell over his face. You take your time and your fingers linger in his hair. Quickly though, you pull yourself away and begin to make Jake’s regular drink, giving yourself a chance to catch your breath.

When you hand Jake his drink, he thanks you and goes to say something else, probably something cocky to ease the tension. But to your relief, Payback and Coyote call for him to go over and take shots with them. Jake gets up and goes to leave, but not before flashing you a sickeningly charming smile. You laugh and shake your head as he runs to the other side of the bar, his drink sloshing around in his hand.

The rest of the night treks on as usual. You and Penny watch as the pilots gradually become louder and wilder, celebrating that they all returned safely. Penny knows that every time you look over at the group, your eyes are only on Jake. As midnight approaches, most of the other patrons have left and the wildness that had encompassed the bar a mere hour ago has settled down. Most of the pilots, including Hangman, are playing probably their third rotation of pool. You try to ignore the way you grow hot watching Jake lean forward against the table, pool stick in hand, a look of utmost focus on his face.

“So what exactly is your deal?” Penny leans her elbows on the bar in front of you, blocking your line of sight to Jake and jolting you out of a fantasy.

“I— what?” You laugh out of embarrassment even though you already know Penny knows exactly what is up with you. “With me?”

“Yeah. You and Hangman. You’ve been staring at him all night, why not go over and say something? Anything? You haven’t seen him in two months!”

“Well— I’m working right now! For you! And I’m closing tonight. But for your information, I told him I would see him after I’m done closing, so don’t worry your pretty little head,” you smile, genuinely touched that Penny is this invested in your and Hangman’s story.

“Look, I know I was wary about him at the very beginning, but I can tell… He really likes you. I just know it,” Penny tells you, “I don’t know if he knows what the fuck he’s doing, but I’ve never seen him act as head over heels as he does with you.”

“I’m just scared,” you admit, “I don’t want to assume anything and get hurt, you know? What we have now, it’s nice and I’m content. I just don’t know what exactly he’s thinking about me. I don’t want to bring it up and… have it ruin everything.”

“Okay, so he hasn’t come right out and said it yet, but I think you’d be a damn fool to not notice the way he looks at you,” she smiles.

Of course you notice the way he looks at you, the way he bounds over to you when he notices you’re in the room, the way he so naturally puts his arm around you and holds you close. Still, your brain can’t help but convince you that he’s only giving you all of his attention out of convenience. After past relationships of always giving more than what you received, you can’t bring yourself to be vulnerable first. You don’t want to be hurt again. You know it’s your own insecurities, but you can’t allow yourself to give someone your all just to be let down and rejected; it’s humiliating.

Anxiety continues to rise in your chest. “I dunno…” you manage to say, “I guess we’ll see what happens later tonight.”

Penny shoots you a daring smile, despite you not meaning it in a suggestive way. She pats you on the back, “That’s what I’m talking about!” She continues cleaning behind the bar, getting ready to leave for the night. You’d be left to manage the bar for the last hour and a half before closing. 

You live only a few blocks away from the bar in a cute, craftsman style house, so even at work, you’re never too far away from home. Everything in town is pretty close to each other. Most of the military-provided housing is only 5-10 more minutes away from you—a pleasant convenience you found out when you first started seeing Jake. If the two of you were spending time together late into the night at your place, he could easily gather up all of his stuff and get back to his place in a matter of minutes. 

Spending the night at the other’s place, however, was actually a very rare occurrence; you always chalked it up to having classes the next day and Jake always chalked it up to having to be on base early the next morning. It never really bothered you, it just seemed like an unspoken boundary that the two of you established for  whatever this is. There are only sometimes where you’re watching him get dressed in your room at midnight and you wish you had the guts to ask him Will you stay tonight?

Now, you’re wondering if you’re ready to have him come back to your place again. He’s in his usual tan uniform that flatters him to no end, but it’s when he’s all tangled up in your blankets with one of his crewneck sweaters that he keeps at your place on and his hair slightly messed up and falling over his eyes—that’s when you really feel yourself falling, hard.

Penny leaves and slowly the pilots begin to leave as well. Phoenix comes over and gives you a hug goodbye, promising that the two of you will catch up over lunch soon. She clicks her tongue and nods her head over to where Hangman is, talking with Rooster. You roll your eyes and she rolls her eyes back at you as if to say You’re so in love. You start to clean up, sweeping the floor behind the bar and gathering up the trash. You see Hangman and Rooster leave, making the bar empty except for yourself. You know Hangman will come back soon and your heart races thinking about him returning just for you. You wipe down all of the tables, restack all of the cups, and once everything inside is done, you lock up and go to take the trash bags out by the back.

The deck wraps around three-fourths of the bar and you exit to the side where the dumpsters are. The air is cool and comfortable. When you’re done with the trash, you linger a few moments leaning up against the deck railing, looking out along the beach. Your mind is going a mile a minute, excited about getting some alone time with Jake but also extremely nervous.

You feel like you can’t control yourself when you’re around him. Deep down, you know you’ll want to jump him the moment you see him, but after being away from him for so long your stomach twists at the thought of being that vulnerable again. Jake has never made you feel dirty or used, but memories of past partners and flings are stuck so deeply in your mind that you can’t help but feel insecure in sexual situations. The amount of times people have left you after getting you into bed, the fake caring about anything other than sex, the lack of respect under the guise of well we’re not even serious… it still haunts you. You don’t think this is the same, but how can you really know? There’s always a possibility of rejection, of them getting bored of you, not wanting to stay anymore. You’re not scared of getting naked and having sex with someone, you’re scared of the after—the room full of silence as you lay there and you’re cold and the kindness is gone and you feel used. 

Your phone vibrates in your pocket and you answer it. “Hey, you.” You can’t help but smile, spinning around and looking for Jake.

“Didn’t want to startle you,” he says on the other line. You can see through the windows of the bar that he’s on the other side of the deck area. When your eyes meet, you can see that he’s grinning ear to ear.

“Get over here, cowboy,” you smile, making a come here motion with your finger that makes Jake go crazy.

“Is that an order?” He asks, eyebrows raised.

“Yes, it is, Lieutenant.” You hang up and start to walk around the deck, a little skip in your step as you hear Jake running and then he rounds the corner and sees you and he calls your name. He runs, his arms reach out to you and you jump into them, wrapping your arms around his neck as he lifts you up. You squeal as your feet are lifted off of the ground and you bury your head into his shoulder until he puts you back down. He looks at you with his sparkly green eyes and a grin.

You hold your hand out to him. “Shall we?”

He takes your hand and you walk down the steps of the deck and onto the beach. Neither of you say much, but you feel as Jake gives your hand small squeezes as you walk, and you rub your thumb over the back of his. Jake keeps glancing over at you and you catch him glancing and you both turn your heads away, smiling.

“Why so shy, darlin’?” Jake asks, swinging your arms as you walk. “Am I too handsome to look at for more than a few seconds?”

“Oh please, I’m embarrassed for you that you’d even suggest that,” you nudge Jake with your shoulder.

“You’re head over heels for me, you just don’t want to give me the satisfaction,” Jake teases, but his face falls slightly when you don’t nudge or pinch him back. You just keep looking forward and walking. You are head over heels for him, but you just don’t know how to go about saying it. If you say it, then you’re putting yourself in the position to be left, and that’s too scary.

Meanwhile, unbeknownst to you, Jake is having the same inner conflict. While on the mission, Phoenix had made a handful of pointed comments to him about how he needs to get off his ass and do something about his feelings for you. Jake had been too stunned to even ask how she knew about his feelings for you. If he had asked, she would’ve laughed in his face—it was so obvious. She had told him, You have her, Hangman. Don’t mess this up. Of course he doesn’t want to fuck things up with you—that terrifies him. He gets overwhelmed every time he sees you or even thinks about you. He’s never felt this way about anyone before. What on earth are you supposed to do with all of these feelings?

Both of you take your shoes off and dig your feet into the damp sand, facing out towards the dark, crashing waves. Then, you’re sitting down next to each other, looking up at the sky of stars. Your one hand is resting on your knees while the other is flat on the sand behind you, propping yourself up. You can feel Jake’s hand resting right next to yours and your fingers twitch as you lift one and touch it to his. Lifting your hand slowly, you rest it fully on top of his and he smiles at you. Before you can second guess yourself, you’re leaning your whole body into him and he wraps his arm around you as you rest your head on his shoulder. You close your eyes and listen to the sound of the waves.

You’re snapped out of your dream because you swear you hear Jake sniffle. Not wanting to alarm him, you slowly reposition your head on his shoulder and ask softly, “Are you okay?”

“I…” Jake falters. People in Jake’s life hardly check in with him or ask him what’s wrong. He doesn’t know how to respond. He especially doesn’t know how to respond to you. When you’re in front of him, he feels as though his breath is swept away and he’s left with a loss for words. “I don’t know. Can’t really… explain it.” He squints and tries to focus on the waves so he doesn’t start crying. He’s normally so sure of what to say, but not when he’s still so shaken up from the mission and doesn’t know how to tell you how he really feels.

“That’s okay, you’re okay,” you say, wrapping your arm around his waist and leaning into him more, “I’m here for you. You can tell me anything, even if you think you’re not making sense.”

“I’ve been pretty overwhelmed. The mission was really rough. I definitely got… a couple of reality checks. I did some stupid things under pressure. It wasn’t what I had expected at all.” He turns to look at you and his eyes are wide and he’s never been this vulnerable with you before. He swallows hard.

“I’m so sorry,” you whisper, “That must have been really hard.”

Jake nods. “Yeah…” he turns to look at you, a slight smile on his face, “I bet you think I’d never admit this, but it was tough. And I honestly…” was afraid of dying, “...nevermind.” He pushes his fears that almost reached the surface back down.

You can sense the sincerity, the vulnerability, in his voice. You sit up and face him, your noses close to touching. You gingerly touch and hold his cheek and lean in, your noses brushing, and you kiss him. It’s soft and comforting and Jake wraps his arm around your back to support you as you lean further into him. He smiles into the kiss and cups your jaw and he leans back slowly into the damp sand as you fall on top of him. His lips break apart from yours and you’re staring down at him, a pink blush across his cheeks, and he smiles up at you with his perfect, toothy grin.

Maybe you can’t tell, but he’s out of breath from the effect you have on him. You’re gentle with him. No one’s ever gentle with Hangman. That’s why he acts so cocky; he’s used to constantly being challenged and having to defend himself with a sharp edge—at the expense of coming across as a brazen douchebag who’s too hard to get along with. But you care about him and you don’t see him how everyone else sees him. You’re sweet and gentle and kind and plant kisses all along his cheeks and neck when the two of you are laying in bed. Your kisses can be hard and rough when you want them to be but usually they’re soft and sweet and Jake likes that. You’re the only one who’s ever put up with him for this long or listens to his stories and sometimes he feels guilty because of it. He feels that you deserve better. He thinks that trying to use his words to tell you how he feels about you will only ruin everything, because he’s learned over time that more often than not, when he opens his mouth, that’s when things go downhill. One day, maybe you will realize that Jake is not enough for you. He doesn’t know how he would deal with that.

It’s hard to catch Hangman in a state of deep thought, but it’s easy to tell when it’s happening. You watch as Jake looks up at the stars, his eyes darting around the sky and his eyebrows slightly furrowed. You wonder what he’s thinking about. You have no idea what went down on that mission, but you can tell it took a toll on him. You’re not sure if this is a good idea or not, but you pry. You run your fingers through his hair, and he lets you of course, and you say, “Jake, you can talk to me. About what happened on the mission.”

He shakes his head too quickly, like he didn’t even give himself a chance to consider that he can actually open up and talk to someone if he just let himself. “Nah,” he tries to say nonchalantly, “I mean, it doesn’t really matter.”

You frown. Maybe everyone else could allow Jake to brush away his problems, but you can’t. You move off of Jake and kneel in the sand next to him. Slightly confused, Jake props himself up in the sand on his arms, and you cup both sides of Jake’s face, gently but with purpose.

“Jake. It does matter. You matter to me. I care about you and I can tell that something’s off and I want to be… someone you can talk to,” you say firmly.

Jake feels like his head is spinning. He thinks, Are you real? He wants to hold you and spin you around and kiss you and know for certain that he will never have to spend a day without you again. He’s never felt so safe before. He turns his head slightly away from you, not knowing if he’ll be able to look you in the eyes and say this. He takes a deep breath and it feels like he’s about to leap from a cliff.

“I’m afraid of dying,” Jake finally whispers. He expects you to laugh or make some snarky comment—everyone else does it. But you don’t say anything. He can feel your eyes on him, but he doesn’t feel scrutinized or judged, he just feels seen, for the first time in a while. So, slowly, warily, he continues. “I know I always act like nothing bothers me and that I fly too perfectly to ever get killed in action but… I really could die out there. And I almost did and it was terrifying,” his voice cracks and you reach your hand out to take his and when he looks at you, he almost breaks down. “I was scared that that would be it. That I wouldn’t make it back.”

“It’s okay to be scared,” you say, “You’re amazing, Jake, I honestly have no idea how you do what you do every day. You’re the bravest person I’ve ever met. But that doesn’t mean you can’t be scared. You have a whole team of pilots who care about you, and I’m here for you, and I… I’m so glad you’re here. I’m lucky to be able to spend time with you.”

Jake blinks back a tear, turning fully towards you. You pause in case he wants to say something more. You want him to be able to tell you anything. His eyes are glistening and he’s smiling at you, pure adoration spread across his face. Maybe another day he’ll find the words to describe all of his deepest fears and insecurities, but for now he just squeezes your hand in appreciation and admires how the moonlight illuminates you. He doesn’t need to say it—you know he’s telling you Thank you. Thank you for being here for me. 

“I missed you,” you say, giving him a little nudge.

“And I missed you, darlin’.”

Later, the two of you walk up to where the waves are crashing and get your feet wet. Of course, Jake tries to kick the cold water up into your face and you run away from him laughing. He chases after you, yelling your name. Running out of breath, you stop in your tracks and let him grab your hips and spin you around and kiss you. You stretch your arms up to drape them over his shoulders as he leans down into you. A moan escapes your lips and Jake grins into the kiss, holding onto you tighter.

“Mmm… moan for me more, sweetheart,” Jake purrs half-jokingly, letting you pull away from him because you’re giggling too hard.

“Nice try, Hangman. How about you walk me home?” You start walking in front of him and hold your hand out behind you. He skips to get back in step with you and takes your hand, his lips tingling still with the feeling of yours on them. He smiles, so utterly amused by you, and you walk hand-in-hand down the beach towards your house. He wishes he could figure you out easier; he notices how you avoid saying his real name, despite how his heart flutters when you say Jake, and he wonders if you’re doing it on purpose just to get his eyebrow to quirk.

After walking off of the beach, your house is only two blocks away. You’re starting to feel sleepy, but the way Jake’s thumb is rubbing the back of your hand as you walk is making you want him. When you reach your front door, though, a wave of anxiety washes over you. You turn to face Jake and he’s looking at you with a dazzling smile. You know this is the part where you either invite him inside or ask him to text you when he’s gotten home safe. His hand is still intertwined with yours but he’s standing a few steps back. He doesn’t want to overstep or pressure you—you know he won’t step forward without your permission. You want more than anything to pull him into your place and kiss him hard but you suddenly feel nervous, as if you’d never done this before. You close your eyes for a moment and swallow.

“Well… will I see you soon, Lieutenant?” You ask, mad at yourself for not just going for it. Jake’s expression wavers for only a second. He would spend every second of every day with you if he could, but he would be lying if he said he wasn’t also nervous. The more time he spends with you, the more likely he is to eventually fuck things up. He bows dramatically in front of you and places a kiss on the back of your palm.

“You can see me whenever you want to,” he says earnestly, a blush spreading across his cheeks.

You step forward and lean up, kissing him quickly and leaving him breathless. You let go of his hand and turn to open your door, looking over your shoulder, “Text me when you get home, Bagman!”

Jake laughs, shaking his head disapprovingly. You wiggle your fingers at him in a bye-bye motion. He walks backwards down your front pathway so he can keep looking at you. He waits for you to step into your place before turning around to start walking home himself. You close your front door and watch from the window as he turns the corner. 

You get ready for bed and as you’re exiting the bathroom, your phone dings on your bedside table. It’s Jake texting you I’m home safe along with a slightly blurry selfie of him in the mirror brushing his teeth. His hair is falling forward into his face and you feel like you’re going to collapse at how attractive he looks. You write back Looking good, cowboy! and you don’t see it but Jake’s face lights up when he sees the heart you added at the end. He will lay in bed thinking about every possible way he could tell you that he adores you, if only he had the guts to do so. And you lay in bed, scrolling through your camera roll, looking at all of the silly, caught-off-guard pictures you’ve taken of Jake where he’s grinning like an idiot and his dimples are showing and Oh, God, you’re really fucking wrecked for him.

———

The next day goes by like any normal Friday. You wake up, grab breakfast, and hop in the car to drive over to campus. Paying attention in class only slightly helps you stop thinking about Jake; he always finds a way to sneak back into your thoughts anyways. During your last class of the day, you have an exam, and you stupidly feel sad that Jake hadn’t texted you that morning to wish you good luck. You obviously hadn’t gotten a chance to update Jake on your academics last night, but before, he would always know what you were up to. If he knew you had an exam to study for or a paper to write, he would be your own personal cheerleader. He’d bring you coffee if you needed to pull an all-nighter, and he’d do a horrible job at trying to incentivize you: “For every sentence you write I’ll give you a kiss!” “Jake, that’s gonna distract me even more! I’ll never be able to finish writing if you keep kissing me!” You try to ignore the fact that you miss him like crazy and how you’ve never felt so scared to like someone so much before. You grip your pen tighter and try to focus on the exam.

Then, he calls that evening. Jake knows you always have off from bartending on Fridays. In fact, when he first found out, he started ditching the rest of the crew at the Hard Deck to spend time with you. He’d show up at your place, a huge grin spread across his face as he eagerly waited for the door to swing open. And there you’d be, just as happy to see him. Neither of you called these Friday night dates “dates” even though that’s what they were.

When you answer the call, you’re just getting back into the house after hitting traffic on the way home. You balance your phone between your shoulder and your cheek as you fumble for your keys, “Seresin?” Something inside of you can’t allow yourself to say Jake. It’s almost too domestic, especially considering most of the people in his life call him by his callsign. Ninety percent of the time it’s Hangman; people rarely call him Seresin, let alone Jake. When you think of his name, your chest tightens at all of the sickly romantic feelings you feel for him, and how you’re too afraid to find out whether he feels the same way about you.

“Seresin?” He emphasizes, half-serious shock in his voice, “Aw, come on, darlin’, what’s going on with you? What happened to Jake? Or, if I’m not mistaken, it’s more like Jaaaake—” he heightens the pitch of his voice, softly mocking the way you tend to moan out his name in bed.

“Oh, shut up, Hangman,” you snort, “To what do I owe this pleasurable phone call? Are you okay?”

“I’m okay. Do have a bit of a problem, though. I, uh, ordered way too much takeout and I can’t possibly eat it all by myself,” he says in a tone that tells you he absolutely bought too much takeout on purpose so he could have an excuse to call you, and you can’t help but break into a huge smile. “So… I thought maybe you could come around and we could—”

“Okay. Yes.” You say it before you could even try to stop yourself. Jake is too powerful for your own good. Live in the moment, or whatever, right? What could be so bad about doing what you and Jake have always done? You know he must care about you, enjoy spending time with you. It’s just the little voice in the back of your head that makes you scared, but you try to ignore it. You want to be with him. “I just got home from class. Give me a few minutes and I’ll be there.”

Jake’s house is only a few blocks away, and the sun is beginning to set as you skip down your porch steps onto the sidewalk. As you get closer, you feel your hands get sweaty and you force your brain to decide whether you should let your heart lead tonight. Yes, you want to protect yourself, but you want Jake more than anything. As you turn the corner and walk up to Jake’s door, anxiety begins to rise in your chest and you try desperately to calm it down as you knock.

The door swings open mere seconds after, and an energized-looking Jake is standing there beaming at you. He’s wearing a slightly worn coffee-colored t-shirt and black sweatpants. You try not to choke at the sight of his strong arms, the veins in his hands, the way his fluffy hair is begging to be pulled at. You clear your throat and smile shyly back at him, almost embarrassed. Why are you so damn nervous?

“Well, are you just gonna stand there?” Jake’s right eyebrow quirks upward. “Cat got your tongue? You undressin’ me with your eyes?” You open your mouth to retort but just look mock-angrily at him, disapproval all over your face.

“Sorry, sorry, I’m just fuckin’ with you,” he smiles sweetly, holding back a laugh at how you can shoot him such a cold hard stare at a moments notice, “Well, kind of. But if you don’t get your pretty self in here now, I will shut this door.”

“Oh, you—” You giggle and grab his arm to push him back inside when he bends down and picks you up, completely sweeping you off your feet. His arms are wrapped around your thighs and you squeal as your balance gets yanked from under you for a split second, but you know you’re safe and steady in his arms. He’s laughing as he slams the door with his foot and runs inside with you basically flung over his shoulder. “Seresin, I swear!” You cry out between laughs.

He runs around the living room couch with you on his shoulder, kind of like the victory laps he’ll do when he wins a football or volleyball game down on the beach. Rounding the corner of the couch once more, he slips just slightly and holds you tighter as he leans forward so you fall onto the couch cushions, only slightly painfully. He’s tangled up in you, one arm still by your thigh and the other hand is right next to your head, steadying his fall. He looks down at you and you look up at him, breathless. His eyes look to your lips and he takes his time to look back into your eyes. He raises his eyebrows just slightly, and you know he’s asking for permission. You don’t think you have it in you to say anything, so you cup your hand tenderly along his jaw and he’s leaning forward until your noses are touching and you feel his hot breath as he wavers there for a moment. You close your eyes and close the gap, pressing your lips to his.

You had kissed him last night on your porch, but you hadn’t given him much time to react. This time, Jake’s hand slowly drags up your thigh and to your hip where he holds you. His mouth doesn’t leave yours as he re-balances himself in between your legs so he can take his other hand and hold your jaw right behind your ear. His fingertips are gently massaging your scalp as he deepens the kiss. You let out a soft moan and he smiles against you. He breaks away, but his face stays close to yours. You hold your breath, eyes darting around his face.

“I…” Jake begins, letting out a sigh, “...am so hungry. For you, of course, but also for the food I got.” He watches as your expression goes from confused to exasperated, and you playfully hit the side of his arm.

“You’re evil!” You laugh as Jake peppers your neck with kisses and goes to stand up.

“Hmm, I like keeping you on your toes,” he winks at you and clicks his tongue, walking to the other side of the room where the kitchen area is. You smirk, shaking your head disapprovingly and following him. As he described over the phone, he definitely did get way too much takeout, also conveniently from the place you and him always go to and find yourselves craving. Your heart flutters for a moment as you grab two of the containers and take it over to the square kitchen table.

Another nice thing is that you and Jake can have moments of silence that aren’t awkward. When the two of you are at the Hard Deck or on the beach around the rest of the Top Gun pilots, you definitely play up your snarky, flirty comments at each other. The rest of his crew’s attention only eggs Hangman and his ego on, so he’ll follow you around and do whatever it takes to get a reaction out of you. But when it’s just you and Jake, there are more small moments.

You’ll catch him looking at you and his eyes will only light up more, his adorable dimples becoming more visible as he smiles. When you take walks along the beach, your arms will brush against each other and both of you will lean closer and closer until your fingers slowly intertwine and you feel a burst of warmth spread from your fingertips to the rest of your body. Jake will stop by your house in his truck on a whim and you’ll go on drives where you playfully argue over what music gets played, but Jake secretly likes when you play your music because he likes hearing you sing along. He likes his hair being played with, but only when the two of you are alone because Jake Seresin would not be caught dead with his hair getting messed up in front of his colleagues. His fluffy, roughed up hair is only for you.

You sit cross-legged in one of the wooden chairs across the table from Jake and start eating. You look at Jake as he’s in the middle of chewing and he gives you a goofy, closed-mouth smile.

“Thank you,” you say, motioning to the food in front of you with your fork, “I’m happy that you didn’t forget our…” you stop for a moment, and Jake raises his eyebrows in a half silly, half intrigued way, “...our Friday date nights.” Your voice trails off at the end but Jake heard you quite clearly and he lights up inside.

“Of course I wouldn’t forget,” he says simply, “Fridays wouldn’t be the same without you.” You blush and smile, finding it hard to maintain eye contact with him.

You and Jake catch up. You fill him in about your studies and he admires you for your drive and accomplishments, saying that he’d never be able to do what you do. Laughing and shaking your head, you say that you could tell him the exact same thing, asking him about the mission. He can’t go into too much detail, but says that he’s glad everyone returned safely. You maintain eye contact and nod as he explains to you all the ins and outs that you don’t really understand, and yet you find yourself smiling as he bursts into his passionate way of describing things.

Later, you’re helping Jake clean up in the kitchen when he walks up behind you and snakes his arms around your waist. The ticklish feeling makes you giggle and place your hands over his arms that are hugging you. You expect him to say something, but he remains silent. He slowly nuzzles his nose into your shoulder and breathes in deeply. He squeezes you just a little bit tighter.

“...Jake?” You ask. He practically shudders at your use of his real name. “Are you okay?”

“Just missed you,” he mumbles into your shoulder, “...A lot.” He turns his head and presses slow kisses on your neck, making you shiver. Your legs almost buckle from the shock that his lips send to your core. You can’t help but let out a low moan which only makes him grip you tighter. He gives you a small bite on your neck and drags his teeth down to your collarbone, pulling the collar of your sweater to the side.

“Ohh…” you sigh, reaching behind you to grab onto Jake’s arm. He promptly grabs you and spins you around to face him, pushing you gently up against the counter. His hands rest low on your hips and his eyes search yours. It’s your move now. Jake doesn’t want to be overbearing, he doesn’t want to make a wrong move and mess things up, he doesn’t want to do anything to make you hate him. He sucks in a breath and waits for what you will do.

You will push your deep feelings for Jake away and insist that you will be just fine when you pull him by the collar and kiss him back. You drag him over to his bed and lay down and grab at his hair as he kneels down between your legs and makes you feel good. You lean back as his tongue laps at you and his arm extends out to grab your hand and intertwine your fingers together. He pushes his tongue against you harder and squeezes your hand harder, and you squeeze back, shutting your eyes tight. When he looks up at you from between your legs, he has a fire in his eyes, dripping with desire. He licks his lips which are covered in you. His strong hands grip both of your thighs and press them farther apart as he latches his mouth onto your clit. You cry out and dig your nails into his scalp, earning a deep moan from him. His mouth leaves you once more and he glances at you.

“I— Is this okay? Are you okay?” He whispers, out of breath, his thumb lazily circling over your clit as he waits for a response. You moan because it feels so good and his eyebrow quirks upward, amused from watching you squirm under him. “Darlin’?”

You groan and grind your hips up against his thumb. “Can you… can you use your fingers?” You choke out, “Please?”

Jake smirks and you want to smack him for acting so cocky but before you can even try, he’s leaning up over you and holding his middle and ring fingers out towards you. You instinctively open your mouth, just slightly, and he slips his fingers in. You suck on them, not breaking eye contact as he looks down at you intensely. He pulls his fingers out of your mouth slowly and rubs a few wet circles over your clit, which you barely have time to react to before he slides his fingers down into your cunt and you arch your back and cry out, “Oh—fuck!”

“Hmm? You like my fingers?” Jake smiles as he pumps in and out of you, curling his fingers with every thrust.

“Mmhm,” you whimper, biting down on your lip. With all you can muster, you shoot him an angry look and pant out, “Oh Jake, fuck, please please use your mouth at the same time…”

“Yes, ma’am,” Jake takes no time settling back in between your legs, lapping and sucking at your clit while his two fingers are curling inside of you. You’re moaning and grabbing at his free hand, he’s moaning into your cunt and the vibrations feel so good. Damn Hangman for knowing what he’s doing and doing it so perfectly.

“Fuck, fuck, keep going, oh my God,” you moan, managing to prop yourself up to watch Jake eat you out.

“Wouldn’t dream of stoppin’,” he mumbles into your skin.

He laps at you hungrily and you throw your head back. He doesn’t let up for a single moment, knowing your body so well. He keeps going and keeps going and he feels you starting to clench around his fingers and he keeps going. You can almost feel his cocky grin as he grinds his mouth into you. You can’t see it but his cock is hard and as badly as he wants to slip a hand beneath the waistband of his sweatpants and jerk himself off, he won’t because he’d rather be holding your hand as he makes you come undone on his mouth.

“Jake…” you strain, “I’m close.” Your hands are in his hair, pulling at it fiercely and digging your nails in, making him groan.

“Oh, fuck, please come on my mouth,” he moans. He holds you as you buck your hips into him and your legs writhe.

And suddenly, you’re coming and it sends sparks through your body and your hand shoots out to grasp onto Jake’s arm tightly and you choke out, “Jake—!” You whimper as he works you through it, fingers still pumping into you, slower now, and his mouth is soaked and he has the biggest, most content smile on his face. He places wet kisses on your inner thighs as you continue to shake.

As you catch your breath, Jake crawls up the bed to press kisses to your neck and you tug at the bottom of his t-shirt. He smiles and pulls the shirt over his head quickly, his lips back on your neck in an instant. You wrap your arms around him and he lifts his head up, looking at you.

“Do you want me?” He whispers. His hair is out of place, disheveled, some strands stuck with sweat on his forehead. He’s so criminally hot. You’re used to coming up with something snarky to compete with his own lines, but the way he’s looking at you so intently, you can only say, “Yes.”

That’s all he needs to hear and his lips are on yours, passionate. He holds your jaw and his other hand slides up your sweater and the two of you giggle softly as you lean up so he can pull it over your head. Your hands grab at the waistband of Jake’s sweatpants and he grins in between kisses as you palm him through his boxers. He groans and tries to remain his composure over you but his eyes flutter between being open and shut as he grinds his hips into your hand.

“Fuck, that feels so good, sweetheart,” he praises.

You dip your hand into his boxers and he shudders as you grip his cock. He rushes to pull down both his sweatpants and boxers, kicking them off quickly. You’re smiling at his eagerness and he catches your eye and laughs softly, leaning forward to kiss you again. You wrap your legs around him and shiver at the feeling of his hard cock resting against you. Your legs squeeze tighter around him. He spits into his hand and rubs his palm over the head of his cock, then slides it over your clit and down against your entrance.

Jake looks at you. He hesitates for a moment, which you only see as him teasing you like he frequently does, but he’s nervous. Something different about this time. Not that every other time didn’t make him go equally as crazy, fall equally as hard for you. He had been away from you for two months and now that he finally has you again he’s scared that maybe you don’t want him anymore, that you won’t always want to wait around for him. He freezes up and now you notice the way his eyes are wide.

“Jake…” You place a hand on his cheek.

“Sorry, sorry,” he shakes his head, “I—” he lets out a small laugh, “I’m kind of nervous, to be honest.”

“Nervous?” You smile, “You just made me come on your fingers. Hard. What… are you nervous about?”

Jake’s expression softens at your praise. “Whenever I’m around you I’m nervous,” he admits quietly, “You make me short circuit.” You’re surprised at the way he says it, no hint of humor or playfulness at all. You brush your thumb over his cheek comfortingly.

“You have no need to feel nervous,” you whisper. Then you swallow hard, adding, “You always have me.”

His eyes light up and he pushes you back onto the bed and his lips collide with yours. He pulls away and grips his cock, looking down as he pushes slowly into you. You gasp out at the feeling of the head inside and Jake wavers, watching your expression. It hurts a little bit, but you look up at him and nod fervently, urging him to keep going. He pushes in slowly and lets out a low moan. You shudder as you engulf him. He fits in you perfectly.

“You feel so fuckin’ good,” he murmurs, rocking his body into you.

You hold him close as he fucks into you. With every moan and whimper that escapes your mouth, Jake’s cock twitches inside of you. He positions himself exactly where he knows he can hit the spot that makes you cry out in pleasure. Jake is panting, his breath hitching every time his cock disappears inside of you. You’re clawing at his back, pulling him close so you can kiss him again, and it’s erratic and hungry. You reach your hand up next to your head to grip onto the blanket but Jake grasps your hand with his instead.

“F-Fuck,” Jake groans.

“Jake—” you gasp as you can feel another orgasm slowly growing. “You—fuck—you feel so good, Jake.”

Jake’s body jerks forward at the sound of you moaning his name. His eyes flutter closed for a moment as he’s overtaken with the pleasure you’re giving him, groaning out a string of fucks and dropping his head into your shoulder. He keeps fucking you, just a bit slower. He feels like he could come at any moment. His thrusts stop and he kisses you. When he pulls away, your noses touch and you look up at him.

“Are you okay?” You ask softly.

“Y-Yeah,” Jake nods, swallowing hard and catching his breath, “Do you… fuck, can we switch positions, maybe?”

You smile, a twinkle in your eye that makes his heart swoon.

“Let me ride you,” you say.

“You can do whatever you want to me, darlin’,” Jake’s eyes are wide in adoration as he pulls out and watches as you get up and lightly push him backwards onto the bed.

You straddle him and he whimpers when you reach behind you to grab his cock. His hands are instantly glued to your hips and he greedily tries to buck his hips up into you.

“Fuck me,” he rasps. “Please.”

Any thoughts of teasing him go out the window and you sink down onto him, leaning your hands on his chest to steady yourself. You bounce on his cock, leaning forward so your foreheads are almost touching. His hands are wrapped around you and your hands are around his shoulders. You’re both sweaty and breathless, kissing each other feverishly in between moans. He holds onto you tighter and fucks up into you at a relentless pace, and you choke out his name in between moans.

“Don’t stop—oh my God,” you plead, bringing your hand down to rub fast circles over your clit.

Jake grunts in response, his whole body glistening in sweat, his brain becoming complete mush as he watches you move on top of him. Everything about you makes his heart flutter and his cock twitch. He can feel himself getting close so he stops bucking into you to let you grind your hips into him while you touch yourself. He watches you intently, lust practically dripping from his expression as you throw your head back, grinding into him at a desperate pace, your hands pressed against his chest. Jake could fall in love with you. Maybe he already is.

“I’m close,” you whine, “OhmygodI’mclose…” You bounce on him again and he bucks his hips to slam up into you at just the right timing.

“M’close too,” Jake murmurs, “Come on my cock, sweetheart, I’ll come with you.” You feel his hand on yours and he’s helping you rub your clit and oh fuck you’re going to come. You tense up your legs and whimper, your body jerking forward and your head buries into Jake’s shoulder as you come hard. 

“Jake—!” Your legs are shaking and you’re whimpering fuckfuckfuck as Jake wraps his hands around your back and he ruts into you recklessly, coming inside of you as you’re spasming around him. He moans out your name and throws his head back and keeps thrusting up into you as he comes.

Slowly, your body relaxes and you lean forward and upward off of him, shuddering at the feeling of his cock leaving you. Jake is breathing heavily, his eyes half closed and his hands resting on your waist. You place your hand on the headboard behind Jake to gain balance and you shift over to lay down next to him. He grabs your hips and tries to pull you to fall on top of him, but you slide away next to him on the bed. Now you can feel yourself begin to panic.

You’re acutely aware of how you’re completely naked in Jake’s bed and you feel exposed and you’re not sure how to deal with all the feelings you have for him. As much as you want to believe Jake’s actions towards you are genuine, you can’t help but worry that he only sees you as someone he likes to fuck. You feel your whole body shivering in the bed and you feel uncomfortable and cold. Jake is breathing hard lying on his back, his arm still splayed out towards you, trying to get you to come back and cuddle. You’re antsy to get back home, to be alone and catch your breath. And you definitely don’t want to overstay your welcome, so you quickly roll over in bed and sit up, your back towards him, bending down to pick up your sweater.

“Wait, hey, what’s wrong?” Jake asks, propping himself up on his forearm. You make the mistake of turning around to face him, and you see a look in his eyes that you’ve only caught a handful of times before. It’s genuine, soft. Your heart aches just a little more for him.

“Nothing’s wrong,” you shrug and pull your sweater over your head. He reaches for your hand as you tug your shirt into place.

“Well… if nothing’s wrong, will you stay?” He’s staring at you with his wide, eager eyes. You’re stunned at his question, remaining frozen in place.

“Stay?” You try to ask him sternly, to challenge him, but instead it comes out as a self-conscious whisper. Jake tugs again at your hand, beginning to rub circles on the back with his thumb.

“Yes, stay.” He folds open the covers for you to climb back underneath with him. His eyes don’t leave you and he looks nervous that you might actually just get up and leave. His eyes dart around your face, trying to get a read on what you’re thinking.

“Do you… really want me to stay?” You ask, unable to meet his eyes. “You don’t just want to keep me here to go another round or something?” You curse at yourself for self-sabotaging and accusing him of something you know he would never do to you, but it just slipped out.

Jake lets out a laugh, moreso out of shock than humor. “What—? No, I really want you to stay here with me. I dunno, I was thinking we could maybe watch a movie later and…” His composure falters and he furrows his brows, hurt, “...Do you really think that I just want to use you? After all this time we’ve spent together?”

You frown, “No. I– I don’t know. I just… I’m scared that you just see me as a fuck buddy and one day you’re going to find someone prettier to take home because you could find so much better and then you’ll completely forget about me.” You swallow hard, not expecting to lay everything out on the line. Hot tears sting your eyes as Jake sits up and pulls you closer to him. You’re both sitting cross-legged, facing each other. You keep babbling in an attempt to stop yourself from crying, “I mean, we never really talked about what we were before you left and so I wasn’t sure if you would just want to be done and when you were gone I missed you so much and I realized how much you mean to me but I got scared that you wouldn’t… I– I just want you to like me.”

Jake lets out the breath he was holding in, trying to hold back the elated feeling he has knowing that your feelings are the same as his. “Do you not see how I look at you every time you’re around?” He asks quietly, brushing his thumb across your cheek and looking into your eyes. This time, you don’t look away and you let yourself get lost in his gaze. You see the softness in his smile. “You- I swear to you, you’re the only woman that’s been on my mind ever since we met. I know how I can be, I know the stories the other guys probably told you when we first met, but I promise I just want you.” You don’t say anything so he squeezes your hand with emphasis, “I like you. So much.”

Now the tears actually fall, but only because you’re so overcome with emotion. Jake had never said anything so vulnerable to you before and you hold his arm as he cups your face and kisses you, slow and gentle. When he pulls away, he brushes the tears from your cheeks.

“I’m sorry,” Jake says, “I’m sorry that I didn’t say anything to you before I left. I… I’m not very good at expressing my feelings. I got scared that I’ll say something wrong if I try, and that I’ll just fuck everything up. I’m not used to this, to feeling so happy with someone. I’ve never cared about anyone as much as you. I guess I was just too scared to tell you, that maybe you would want someone better. But I never meant to make you feel like I didn’t want you.”

“Oh,” you say, looking down at your lap for a moment. When you look back at Jake, his eyes are shiny with tears, as are yours, but you’re both smiling. Jake’s dimples make your heart soar. “I guess we were both being kind of silly. I would never—” your voice cracks a bit, “I would never want someone else. I want you. I was just nervous that I… couldn’t call you mine.”

“I’m yours, I’ve been yours since the first night we met,” Jake smiles. He looks up at the ceiling, pondering for a second, “Well… maybe the second night.” A devilish smile spreads across his face.

“Wait, what?” You exclaim in mock hurt, grabbing his arm, “What do you mean? What did I do the first night?” You’re giggling as he pulls you into his arms.

“No, no, I—” he’s laughing, at how silly what he’s about to say is, and because he’s in total euphoria knowing that everything is good with you, “I… okay, look, I know I was really pestering you that night. I was drunk—”

“You were very drunk, Seresin,” you scold him playfully, resting your chin on his chest.

“Yeah, yeah, it was pretty bad,” he admits, “and you know me, I uh, probably came on pretty strongly…”

“That’s why I was trying my best to ignore you,” you giggle, pressing kisses on his chest. “Jake. You were so horny.”

He turns red, shaking his head and laughing, running his hands up and down your back. “I was so drunk and I think I took your rejection—which, by the way, I completely understand—really personally. Like when Coyote dragged me home I think I was crying because I was so upset. And he was like ‘Dude, you have got to stop acting like a slut in front of a woman you’re trying to impress.’ I was sure I’d have no chance with you again, so I almost just tried to give it all up.”

“Well, I’m glad you didn’t give it up.”

“The next night, the moment I saw you again, everything else just went out the door. You wouldn’t leave my mind. And when you smiled and laughed at my jokes, and actually enjoyed my dumb flirting, I was head over heels. It’s always been you, my dear.”

You lean up to kiss him. “You’ve always had me. Since the very first night.”

Jake beams.

———

“Hey, darlin’.”

You’re curled up on the couch in Jake’s living room under a huge fuzzy blanket; all of the lights are off except for the light coming from the television, turned down to volume 4. You look up and see Jake smiling at you, standing in the doorway to the bedroom. He walks over to the couch and gets under the blanket, sitting next to where you’re laying. You scoot down and snuggle against him.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you up,” you whisper. It’s currently 5 am. “I know you had to get up in an hour or so to get on base so I was praying I wouldn’t wake you up before—”

You’re cut off by Jake shifting his body to face you, and he takes your hands in his. “No need to apologize,” he says, “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah,” you smile, “I woke up in a drunken sweat and I chugged a bunch of water and then I was too awake to fall back asleep so I just stayed in here.” Jake laughs softly and squeezes your hands.

It’s been a week since you told Jake about your feelings for him and he told you his. You both laughed at how silly you both had assumed the worst about how the other felt and promptly decided to become exclusive—what both of you have wanted since before Jake even left for the mission. Jake was elated, knowing that he could now walk around and call you his girlfriend, his partner.

Usually at the Hard Deck, you and Jake would purposefully play up the flirting, partially to get reactions out of the other aviators. You had always been too shy to do anything too tender, too gentle, in front of everyone else because you weren’t sure if that’s what the two of you were. But last night, when Jake and the rest of the Dagger Squad arrived at the Hard Deck during your shift, he didn’t hold back. When you walked over to his table to hand everyone their drinks, Jake had snaked his arm around your waist and kissed you sweetly, catching you off guard. When you both pulled away, everyone’s eyes were on you. Rooster had looked over at Coyote, whose eyebrows had shot up. Phoenix sat there with her mouth wide open, and Payback nudged at Bob and Fanboy to stop playing pool.

“Am I… missing something? A new development of sorts… perhaps?” Phoenix drawled teasingly. Bob was giggling, covering his mouth with his hand, and everyone else was staring, blinking, waiting to see what you or Hangman would say.

“What?” Jake had quipped, acting exasperated. “Can’t I kiss my girlfriend in public?”

Everyone’s expression then turned to excitement and they all started exclaiming at the same time, but you were smiling too widely at Jake to even hear any of them. He saw your happiness and winked, kissing you again. His girlfriend. You were on cloud nine.

Since putting a label on things, the two of you also finally started spending the night together. You’d switch up whose place it was at, but there was no longer an awkward feeling of having to gather up your things to “head back home.” Whether you were at your place or Jake’s, you were at home. It only mattered that you were in his company.

Last night, after stumbling back to Jake’s place (he wasn’t as drunk as you, although you remember him stumbling just as badly as you were up the steps to the house), you’d fallen asleep on top of Jake in a tangled, drunken mess. You woke up mere hours later, sweating all of the alcohol off and having a pounding headache. You’d drank some water and ate some leftovers from the fridge and suddenly felt full of energy, thus why you chose to stay on the couch in the main room instead of returning to bed.

“But you’re feeling alright now?” Jake asks you.

You nod and lean on his shoulder, laying your hand on his chest. “Yeah, I feel good now. I just feel really awake. I don’t think I’ll be able to get back to bed at this rate.”

Jake hums as his arm is wrapped around you and his thumb rubs over your shoulder comfortingly. The room is silent for a few moments and you’re focused on how Jake smells like amber and firewood. Then, you feel Jake shift his body to look at you, and you lift your head off of his shoulder to meet his eyes.

“What if we did something?” Jake asked.

“What do you mean?” 

“Right now, let’s do somethin’!” He flings the blanket off of him and stands up, grabbing his keychain and watching amusedly as you cock your eyebrow at him. “I have an idea,” he says, holding his hand out to you. “Trust me?”

Of course you do. You take his hand.

You’re in the passenger seat of Jake’s truck and have no idea where you’re going. You roll the window down and let the cool, early morning air hit your face. You catch Jake glance over at you multiple times, every time you hit a stop sign without fail. You look back at him, each time, fighting the urge to lean forward and pull him in for a kiss like a giddy teenager.

Jake keeps driving and then he makes a turn that makes you realize he’s driving onto the base. You turn to look at him, quirking your eyebrow upwards and smiling as if to say What are you planning, Seresin? He pulls into a spot near the hangar and shoots you a devilish grin as you both get out of the truck. You run around the side of the truck to stay by his side, never having been here before, obviously. He’s grinning like an idiot; he was just sleeping a mere thirty minutes ago but now he looks like he has twice the energy as you. He holds out his hand to you and you take it and he’s running, dragging you along, and you do feel like a giddy teenager, sneaking off somewhere you aren’t supposed to be.

He leads you in through the side door and down a hallway to where a large locker room is. You doubt anyone is on base yet—maybe the Admiral or someone else higher up, which does make you nervous, but the hallways are dark and silent. Jake leads you to his locker, H_NGM_N written at the top. He swings the locker door open and you almost fall over when you notice a photo of you, placed sideways so it could stick in the door and not fall out. It’s a picture of you on the beach, from one of many nights you and Jake walked along the sand, and he had pulled out his phone and pointed it at you as the sunset sky was turning pink and orange and he told you to smile! but you got flustered and covered half of your face instead, using your other hand to reach out towards the camera but it was too late, he already snapped the picture. And there it is, in his locker for him to smile at every time he opens the door.

“What…?” you start to ask him what you’re doing here but trail off when he gives you a mischievous look that says Just wait.

You decide to keep your mouth shut and you look at the green flight suit hanging up in the locker, as well as some more casual gym clothes for workout days. He reaches up to the top shelf and picks up his helmet—the one that makes your heart leap when you see Jake wearing it in pictures he sends you. He closes the locker and turns to you, grinning ear to ear and his eyes slightly scrunched up in happiness. He takes a step forward, your bodies pressing against each other, and he tilts your chin upward and kisses you. You almost fall into him, sighing into the kiss and wrapping your arms around his waist as his hands cup your face gently.

“I’m gonna sneak you into the hangar, onto my F-18,” Jake grins in between kisses.

You look at him, stunned, and your heart rate picks up just thinking about it. You weren’t an aviator—you’d never even stepped foot near the base before. Your whole body warms at the thought of Jake wanting to include you in what was pretty much the most important thing in his life. Your stunned expression turns into a huge smile, matching his. He takes your hand and leads you to the hangar. You knew it had to be a huge space in order to fit all the aircrafts, but you don’t realize how expansive the thing was until you step into it. It opens up onto the runway, where the sun is just beginning to rise over the horizon. Many different aircrafts are lined up in the middle, supplies and tools lined up on the sides. Jake watches as your head turns every which way, taking in the whole place, and he smiles at the fascinated expression on your face.

Jake leads you over to the F-18 that has “Lt. Jake Seresin” written on the side (“Hangman” is right underneath). The top is already lifted up, the cockpit ready to be sat in. It’s a single-seater and you see Jake’s smile almost certainly straining his facial muscles as he holds his hands out towards the seat, the same level of excitement as if he were presenting you a birthday gift he’d been planning for months, beyond excited to watch you open it.

“Are you sure about this?” You ask as Jake climbs up onto the side of the plane, holding his hand out to help you step up, over, and into the seat.

“You know how important flying is to me,” says Jake, “And I want you to know how important you are to me, too. So I thought… why not bring both you and flying together?” He sees your eyebrow raise quizzically, almost scared, and he adds, “The F-18 is not leaving the runway with just you in it, obviously. And… no offense, of course.” You both laugh. “Maybe one day I can get you on a two-seater,” Jake ponders, “But until then…”

You get situated in the seat, eyeing all of the buttons and switches in front of you. Jake leans over the side, watching you intently as you take in everything. You always knew you could never do what Jake does, but now you absolutely can confirm it. You try to put together some of the pieces from what Jake’s told you in the past about how flying works; your eyebrows knit together as you lean in, observing what all of the buttons say on the switchboard and Jake smiles at how cute you look, trying to understand.

Jake rests his chin on the top of the opening of the F-18, stretching his arm out to point out different things to you. “Here you have the left instrument panel, left vertical panel, left console.” He points. “Then over here,”he reaches further over you to point, “is the right instrument panel, right vertical panel, right console.” You try to take it all in, enjoying listening to Jake’s voice as he explains. “Okay, on the left: left side warning lights, as such—” he makes funny, dramatic gestures at what he’s describing and you giggle, “—left digital display center, aaaand the integrated fuel engine indicator. Up top here are two handles… because takeoff can be rough and throw you ‘round a bit. And— Wait, I know what you’re missing.” He jumps down from the side of the F-18 for a moment, and when he comes back up, he’s holding his helmet out towards you and grinning like an idiot.

“You want me to—?” You’re almost at a loss for words. It’s almost equivalent to him handing you an expensive family heirloom that had been passed down for generations. You knew damn well that Jake did not let anyone touch his hair (except for you) and you doubted anyone else would be able to put their hands on his helmet lest he become physical. Your heart swells from his warmth and doting on you. Jake nods, smiling, urging you to put it on.

It’s heavier than you would have expected and when you place it on top of your head, the top falls partly over your eyes and you have to push the helmet back in order to see. When you do, you see Jake smiling at you, a pink blush over his cheeks. He puts his hands on either side of the helmet by your ears and steadies it as perfectly as he can on your head, gently tilting the visor over your eyes, “H_NGM_N” displayed over your forehead.

You glance up at him through the clear goggles, “Do I look good?”

“You look good. You look very good.”

“So, Lieutenant, what do I have to do to get this thing to fly?” You lightly tap on a bunch of switches, pretending to know what you’re doing and earning a lopsided grin from Jake.

“Well,” Jake says, “if you put your hand on the control stick here, then you can steer this thing wherever you wanna go.”

You grasp the control stick, unsure of how exactly to have your hand, and turn to look at Jake for his approval. He nods and leans forward a bit, extending his arm and resting his hand over yours. You shiver at the warmth of his hand and the way it engulfs your own hand. His grip is firm but gentle around you, and he guides your hand as you move the stick right and left, pretending to steer the aircraft. Your whole body is tingling at the feeling of Jake helping you “fly” his plane—you feel secure with his hand over yours. He’s making funny noises trying to simulate being in the air and he’s calling out things like Break right! Enemy aircraft at 6 o’clock! and you’re giggling and leaning into his touch as he hangs over the side of the plane.

You break out of the silly pretend and turn to look at him and it takes him a moment to realize. He stops talking mid sentence and catches your gaze and his eyes go all soft because wow, he is just so mesmerized by you. Jake grins, his dimples showing, and reaches out to tilt the visor up into the helmet. Your eyes sparkle. He wants to kiss you and you notice. Slowly, you trace your hand up to the collar of his shirt and dip your fingers around the chain of his dog tags, gently pulling him closer. Not wanting to bump his forehead against the helmet, he tilts his head and slowly, tantalizingly leans in until his soft lips touch yours. You feel everything else around you disappear.

“Hey, Bagman!”

You jump away as Jake whips his head around to see Phoenix and the rest of the Dagger Squad walk onto the hangar. Phoenix is leaning up on her toes, waving at you and Jake. Rooster is nudging Bob and they’re giggling.

“Didn’t know we had a new trainee,” Coyote smiles.

You don’t know it, but Jake had also confided in Coyote about you while they bunked together on the mission. Okay, maybe Jake didn’t confide in him so much as he could tell that whenever Jake would zone out it was because he was thinking about you. So Coyote had asked what was going on with the two of you and Jake bit down on his tongue as he thought about how he could even begin to explain what he felt about you. Coyote scolded him for not not being upfront with his feelings, and Jake had laid awake that night, staring at the ceiling, scaring himself by thinking about what his life would be like without you.

Now, Coyote sends a quick wink to his friend, as if to say Proud of you. Jake grins and nods back to him.

“What’re you guys doing here so early?” Jake asks, “Thought for sure the place would be empty for at least another hour.”

“Well, Bagman, if you’d read the group chat earlier, we decided to come onto base early so we could still play football down on the beach before it rains later,” Phoenix smiles, “But I guess you were a bit preoccupied to check your phone.” She catches your eye and gives you a devilish grin.

“I– I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to get in the way here,” you say quickly, lifting yourself from the seat to signal that you would get on your way.

“No, no, wait!” Phoenix runs forward and tilts her phone up at you, snapping a picture of you wearing Jake’s helmet in the seat. She inspects the photo she took. “Adorable.”

Jake turns to face you and he’s glowing. He holds his hand out for you to take and he helps you step out from the F-18. Normally, you wouldn’t know exactly how to conduct yourself with Jake when you were around the other pilots. But standing in front of the rest of them, seeing their excited and happy expressions as Jake puts his arm around your waist, you’re relieved and content to know you can simply lean into him and not feel scared of your feelings anymore. Jake is enthused to show you off to everyone else.

When you hop down onto the ground, you stand next to Jake as the group approaches.

“Captain,” Jake nods towards Maverick, who is standing towards the back of the group. “I promise I will make up for today’s workout. But I will have to catch y’all… later.” Jake reaches behind him to grab your hand in his.  Jake squeezes your side and holds his helmet under his other arm, twirling his keys on his finger.

After you pass the group, Jake intertwines his fingers with yours and pulls you into a run, leading you back into the locker room. As soon as the door closes behind you, he’s wrapping his arms around your thighs and lifting you up, spinning you around. He’s looking up at you, absolutely enthralled by your glowing expression.

“I’m sorry,” he’s saying, breathless.

“What are you sorry for?” You ask as he puts you back onto the ground.

“For not telling you how I feel sooner, for not doing all of this sooner,” he motioned his hands around the room, “Taking you here, showing you around, being able to be us around other people…”

You smile widely, cupping his jaw and tugging him closer to you. “You don’t have to be sorry,” you whisper, “I’m just so happy that we’re okay now—better than okay. I’m so…”

“...Grateful to be in a relationship with the best aviator in the Navy?”

You snort and pinch his cheek. “Yes, Jake, that’s exactly what I was trying to say,” you giggle.

Jake laughs, leaning down to kiss your cheeks over and over again. You’re weak in his arms, succumbing to his kisses. You’re more than happy—you feel as though everything in the world has fallen into place perfectly. You wrap your arms around him, not wanting to ever let go.

#jake seresin #jake hangman seresin #hangman #hangman x reader #jake seresin x reader #top gun maverick fic #jake seresin fic #hangman x y/n #top gun maverick #tgm #my stuff

[jadedxhearts]

𝐁𝐢𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐢

You wear a new bikini with the intention of teasing Law with it. Only, your plan backfires on you.

Warnings: nsft, afab reader (no pronouns but Law does say “my girl”)

Originally posted on April 21st, 2023

repost from my main @jadedrrose as a part of my most popular fics event.

You’d practically doomed yourself from the very start of your evening out. 

The crew was having a night out at some island, and truthfully you’d completely forgotten the reason why. It wasn’t anyone’s birthday, and there weren’t any holidays that you could think of. But, nevertheless you were excited for the excuse to dress up. 

It was very hot and humid on the island you’d be spending your evening at; and even with the sun fading away, the heat just never left the air. You also knew it was a beach town, meaning just about everything was on the front of the island, bars and such all incredibly close to the water, some even built on the water. So, with this knowledge combined you decided on an outfit that would work best. 

The base of it was a bikini. It was vibrant, your favorite color in a bright shade with a hibiscus floral pattern in white, littered across both the top and bottoms. It was also rather flimsy and small. The top was a basic triangle cup bikini shape that was held together by two string ties; one behind your neck and the other in your mid back area. The bottoms were similar, only the strings were more high-waisted and tied in little bows at your hips. The set was skimpy and daring, hardly hiding anything from wandering eyes. But it was an easy fix. You grabbed a pair of denim shorts and pulled them over the bikini, only leaving out the strings as the bows would get in the way. So while your ass was covered now, one could only imagine how the outfit looked underneath…

You slipped on a thin floral print open front shirt to cover up a bit more, then grabbed your favorite pair of sandals and sunglasses to complete the look. You reviewed the look over in your mirror, before deciding everything was set in place and you were ready to go.

When you emerged from the stairs of the submarine, it became evident that you were the last one to be ready. Some of the crew had stayed back to wait on you, but most had already departed for the island. 

Law stood at the front of the group, wearing white shorts and similarly to you, an open front shirt with a pattern on it. He looked at you suspiciously, raising an eyebrow and scanning the outfit you wore. He only let out a light huff and didn’t say a word, though. Once you reached his side, he seemed flustered as he slipped your hand into his and muttered, “took ya long enough…”

You looked up to gaze at his face, playfully smiling. There was a hint of blush dusted across his cheeks. But, you decided not to embarrass him over it. “I wanted to look cute… for you,” you replied to him, leaning up to place a little kiss on his flushed cheek. 

—

In the time that you’d spent pretty much partying in the beach town, you’d abandoned the shirt due to the heat. And now, since you were on the beach, you figured it would be fine to remove your shorts. Everyone else was in their swimwear, after all. It’s not like you’d stand out too much.

So you stood up from your seat in Law’s lap, stretching out your limbs before unbuttoning the shorts and moving your hands to slip them down your frame. 

You’d only gotten them slipped just under your bottom when you were suddenly stopped. 

“What do you think you’re doing?” 

Letting your hands and shorts freeze in the position they were in before you’d been stopped, you turned your head back to look at Law.

“Taking off my shorts so I can get in the water?” 

It was only then you noticed you’d barely stepped a foot away from Law, so you were pretty much directly on display for him. 

“Y/n… don’t you know what your bikini looks like?” 

“Yeah, why?” You asked, trying to play along with him; pretending to be oblivious.

“I can see all of your ass, you’re practically wearing a thong.” He remarked, arms crossed as he frowned.

“Do you like it?” You teasingly asked, smirking down at him. 

“Wh-? Yeah… but, I don’t want some creep looking at my girl’s ass.” He pouted, the same blush from earlier dusting across his face.

You giggled, deciding to let the shorts fall to the sand beneath your feet. “Fine then. You can come with me and cover my ass.”

“I can’t get in ocean water, y/n.”

Rolling your eyes, you decided to just return to his lap, only this time facing him. “Fine, fine. Honestly I just wore it to tease you… I didn’t really plan on letting anyone else see it anyway.”

“Then why did you-“

“To tease you,” you repeated, wrapping your arms around his neck and shimmying further into his lap. 

Law sighed, placing one of his tattooed hands on your lower back. “And did you plan on paying for it, too?”

“Huh?” 

“Don’t think you can just tease me and get away with no punishment,” he muttered into your ear, placing a small kiss on the skin of your neck. 

Feeling more daring, you decided to just dig your own grave now. With a sultry grin, you moved to kiss Law, removing one arm from his neck and placing your hand against his face, holding him as your lips connected.

Law seemed to tense up, probably because of the rather intimate display of affection you two were showing in public, but he moved his free hand to grab your bare thigh, squeezing the soft skin in his grasp. 

He briefly pulled away, but only far away enough to get some air. His breath came out hot as he panted against your wet lips, your mixed saliva still connecting you both together. 

Just before Law could kiss you again, you subtly began to rock your hips, grinding your lower region against him. A breathy grunt escaped Law’s lips, his body tensing up even more as he hardened his grip on your back and thigh. 

“Shit… you’re just asking for it now, hm?” 

You decided then to reconnect your lips, giving hot, wet opened mouth kisses against his own lips. You pushed your hips down harder, whining at the friction of your just barely covered cunt against his hardening length. 

Though your reply was late, you did so anyway, “mhm… please take me back home… punish me for being a whore, Law.”

Not wasting anymore time, Law practically shoved you off of him and slid your shorts back up, tossing your sandals and shirt at you before grabbing the towel you’d been laying on and taking your hand to lead you back to the sub.

—

As soon as you were back in your bedroom with the door locked behind you, Law jumped at you, grabbing your body and biting at the tender skin of your neck, sucking it between his teeth to mark you.

You let out a high-pitched cry, tilting your head back to give him more access. His lips were still wet, and as he dragged them across your skin, your neck became slick with his spit. The sensations felt so intoxicating; the slight pain of his bite before the feeling of his lips sucking you in, the hair of his goatee pleasantly scratching your skin.

“Law,” you quietly whined, legs shaking with need as you tried squeezing your thighs together, desperate to be touched. But his lips didn’t leave your throat.

“Law, please,” you pleaded, fisting his shirt into your palms. “I need you so bad…”

Finally, his attack on your neck ended and you watched with hazy eyes as Law looked down at your needy body with lust evident in his eyes, along with a mischievous look that meant you were really in for it this time.

Just before you could open your mouth to beg for him again, Law pushed you down onto the bed, grabbing at the fabric of the bikini top between your breasts, ripping the entire thing off of you. 

He quickly tossed the garment away, wasting no time to put his tattooed hands on your chest, groping and massaging the plushy mounds. Another whine left your lips as his palms brushed against your nipples, and you leaned your back up into his touch.

“God, you’re so needy,” Law shook his head, removing his hands and watching with amusement as you cried from the loss of his touch. 

Then he was grabbing your waist, fingers digging into your skin as he harshly flipped you over to lay on your tummy, one hand landing on your ass to hold you in place as the other delivered a teasing smack to your skin that poked out from underneath your ridden up shorts, which were removed from your body only a moment later.

Law didn’t even try to be gentle as he forced the denim off of you, throwing it away to free his hands. His palms were on your skin again, squeezing the fat of your bottom as he looked over what was left of your bikini.

The bottoms didn’t cover your ass at all, so when he spanked you again, the contact was directly on your skin this time with a loud slap. 

“You bought this thing knowing it’d piss me off, didn’t you?”

You tried shrugging but that was difficult with your current position. “I knew you’d like it on me… but not in public.”

“Exactly,” he hissed, smacking you again. “You’re such a brat, y/n.”

Letting go of your bottom, Law hastily untied the bows from your hips and pulled the rest of your bikini off. Once that too was tossed away, he freed himself from the restraint of his shorts. You continued to whine, voice louder now as he rubbed his cock against your skin, spitting down at it to get it wet. 

“Law, please!” You begged, “I need to feel you in me… I don’t care what else you do, just stuff me!”

“Don’t care what else?” He echoed your words, lining the tip of his member up with your soaked cunt. “This is a punishment, don’t forget. How about you don’t get to cum until I say so?”

You whined, clearly not liking that idea; but you had no say in whether or not Law would do it. 

You felt one of Law’s hands slip into your hair, grabbing fistfuls of it before pulling on it and finally sliding into your throbbing pussy at the same time. Already it was hard to not cum from that alone, and all you could do was moan and scream in frustration as you tried to hold your orgasm back. 

Law’s pace was ruthless and hard, not giving you any time to adjust to the stretch from his cock as he repeatedly slammed himself into you, getting lost in the feeling of your warm walls fluttering around him as you tried fitting him in. 

Already, your cunt was flooding with juices and that only created more opportunity for Law to fuck you faster, hitting into you more forceful than before; lewd squelching noises accompanied by the slapping of skin echoing throughout the bedroom. 

You moaned and grasped desperately at the sheets underneath you, letting your entire body rock back and forth from the motion of Law’s hard thrusts. “ah-ahh. Law!

“Law! I can’t hold it in anymore,” you cried and begged, letting his name fall from your lips a few more times. “L-Law! Please, I need to cum, Law! I can’t take it!”

You listened for his approval but all you got were grunts and loud pants from behind you, Law not giving you any mercy as he kept up with the abuse on your cunt. 

“Law! I- I can’t- Law,” you screamed, clenching hard onto his cock in an attempt to stop yourself from cumming.

“I don’t give a damn anymore,” he groaned. “Just cum, baby… cum on my cock.”

With his approval, you finally let yourself go and moaned loudly into the mattress as you came; creaming on Law, leaving a white ring of your cum around his cock. 

And Law wasn’t far behind, he continued to fuck you, slam his cock into your spasming pussy for just another moment before tightening his grip on your hips, thrusts becoming sloppy as he let himself start cumming. 

He let out a flustered moan as his hot seed began spilling into you, but he quickly pulled away and let the rest of his cum spill onto your back, leaving a warm sticky mess on your skin.

You both panted heavily, catching your breath and calming down from the intense punishment you’d just endured. After a moment, you felt his mess being wiped off of you, Law gently cleaning you off before turning you on your back so he could look at your face. 

His soft hand cupped your cheek and a kiss was placed on your lips. “You okay, y/n-ya?”

You nodded, blinking away the tears from your eyes. Another kiss against your lips, and you wrapped your arms around Law once again. 

Lifting you up into his hold, Law decided you deserved a relaxing warm bath after what he’d put you through. He carried you to the bathroom, kissing your shoulder and whispering quiet “I love you”s to you the whole way.

#trafalgar law x reader #trafalgar d water law x you #trafalgar d water law x reader #trafalgar law x you #trafalgar law #trafalgar law x y/n #trafalgar d law x reader #law x you #law x reader #law x y/n #one piece x reader

[msfantasy-comics]

The Teen Three - Social Rescue

Platonic!Jon Kent x WonderGirl!Reader x Platonic!Damian Wagne

Summary: Jon’s high school years were rough. Subject to nasty teasing, Damian and Y/n have devised plans to make Jon a little more popular.

A/n: this story is lame! Sorry! Maybe I should focus on some other bat boys for a while.

It only took a ‘promposal’ gone wrong to plummet Jon’s social credit.

At one point of time, Jon was the quite kid no one paid attention to. His presence masked by his rambunctious cohort. Now Jon is front and centre of his High Schools attention.

Jon is now known as the kid who was humiliatingly rejected by the prettiest and most popular girl in school.

“Pfft, you’ve got to be kidding… is this a joke?” Beverly’s cruel tone filling the air with heavy dread, her humourless laugh as she side eyes her friends who seem to also be snickering at Jon’s expense. The bouquet of flowers now limp in Jon’s outstretched hands. He wants to sprint away and hide under a rock, but he’s too humiliated to move a muscle. His cheeks burning red in embarrassment. God why did he ask out Beverly, so publicly? Everyone walking into the main entrance is now witnessing his promposal rejection. Beverly lips curl into a thin line, she sees his eyes becoming quickly glossy as he stares at the floor. “Um… so like… I’m not going to prom with you… honestly I don’t even know why you’d even ask. Like… we barely know each-other.” She looks towards her friends awkwardly, as if silently discussing how weird it is that Jon asked her to prom. Not knowing what else to say, Beverly just shuffles off with her group.

The circle of students that had slowly formed around, began to disperse at Beverlys departure, some feeling sorry, and some being amused at his expense.

————

Its prom night and it’s been long since Jon flopped onto his bed where he continued to limply exist.

His mind continues reeling at the humiliating rejection. His heart clenched painfully seeing his ‘promposal fail’ posted online. Many comments left under the video talking about what a looser he is for even asking the hottest girl in school out.

It’s been days since the incident and the teasing and passive remarks are not letting up.

Jon was feeling pathetic and embarrassed, there was no way on earth he would dare step foot into his high school gym.

But just like always, the door to Jon’s bedroom slams open.

“Get up looser, we’re going to prom.” Y/n’s voice rings out. Jon rolls away from the wall only to see his best friends Y/n and Damian standing in the doorway. Y/n stands statuesque in her WonderGirl uniform, whilst Damian leans against the frame with a laundered Armani suit slung over his shoulders.

“Are you mentally challenged? We are here to make him feel better, not to insult him. He already feels bad enough.” Damian reprimands Y/n, which she only shrugs off, snatching the suit from Damian’s hands and throws it on top of Jon.

“Either you can get yourself dress and get into Damian’s car or… Damian and I will dress you.” Jon only grunts rolling onto his back.

“Why? I don’t have a date. Everyone will just stare and gossip. I’m already embarrassed enough.” Y/n slowly sinks onto Jon’s bed and pokes him in the ribs.

“I will go to prom with you as WonderGirl. When everyone sees that your brought a super hero as your date, no one will even remember about your promposal fail!” She announces, buzzing in excitement which only makes Jon stare at her blankly.

“We are not meant to abuse our alter egos like this.” Jon drawls with only makes Damian roll his eyes. “I’m not going and that’s final. I’d rather just hang with you two.”

“Aw Jonny, love you too!” Y/n says, pulling Jon into a bone crushing hug that only a kryptonian could survive. “Okay so since you refuse, Damian and I will take matters into our own hands.”

Damian and Y/n share a look before nodding. “Wait - wait- not again! I’ll dress myself! I’ll dress myself!” Jon pleads, rearing from his bed and ripping open the suit protector.

————

Jon’s prom entrance was just filled with oh’s and ah’s.

Not only did Jon walk the carpet with a fresh Armani suit, he had the illustrious WonderGirl hanging off his arm. The teen beauty that was on every teens wall. She was every boys dream girl, and every girl wanted to be her. In the public’s eye, she was Americas sweetheart. The girl next door that had a dazzling smile and eyes that were enchanting.

WonderGirl behaved like the perfect date. Always smiling and giggling with Jon. But the hoard of students and teachers were all too keen for photos and autographs. Jon had to break away from the crowd to catch a breath.

“Hey Kent! How’d you score WonderGirl?! You have to tell me your secret man!” A boy that Jon had never spoken to before, claps Jon’s back as if they were familiar pals. Jon locks eyes onto Beverly, whom angrily has her arms crossed over her chest, she decidedly took strides forward

“Jon, can I speak to you for a moment?” Beverly asks pointedly. Beverly begins to stare down the random boy standing next to Jon, silently demanding he leaves the two alone. The boy only awkwardly steps back, leaving the two.

“I didn’t mean for my rejection to come across so cold. I saw the video online and I felt so bad about what others were saying. Just so you know, I’m not sorry I rejected you, because every woman has the right to say no without feeling bad, I’m just sorry you were publicly embarrassed and that people were mean about it.” Jon’s face scrutinised at Beverly’s apology. She’s sorry, but not really? “I didn’t want to go to prom with you because I don’t even know anything about you. I thought you were just asking me out for clout and it just made me angry to be used like that.”

“Okay… I wasn’t asking you out for ‘clout’, I had the biggest crush on you, so I decided to ask you out.” Jon vents, to which Beverly only continues to stare down at him.

“Yeah well…. Why do you like me?”

“What?” Jon sputters.

“What is it about me that you like?”

“Um, well you’re nice…”

“No I’m not, I’m blunt, there’s nothing nice about it. What else do you like about me that isn’t surface level?” He really couldn’t think of a single thing. He liked Beverly because she had a sweet smile, was always laughing, and just having a good time, never being concerned with how others felt.

“Um…” It was in this moment, Jon understood. Beverly wasn’t a cruel girl by any means, she was angry that someone was admitting their feelings, which Beverly believe was disingenuous. She’s right, Jon didn’t know her at all, he just liked the idea of her.

“You can’t think of a single thing can you? It’s because you don’t even know me. So why would I go to prom with you? You see what I’m saying?” Jon only nods solemnly, he was too caught up in his own devastation, he had already decided Beverly was a cruel and mean girl, but the reality was that Beverly was just getting asked on a date by a stranger. “Good I’m glad we got that clear…. So can you introduce me to WonderGirl? I’m literally obsessed with her- please?”

Jon only sighs and nods in agreement which causes Beverly to excitedly clap and jump on the spot.

It’s so unfair.

How does Y/n always win? She wasn’t even part of the drama to begin with.

————

#dc imagine #dc x reader #batboys #batboys imagine #batboys x reader #damian imagine #damian wayne x reader #Jon Kent imagine #Jon Kent x reader #Platonic! #platonic!supersons x reader #platonic!jon kent x reader #platonic!Damian Wayne x WonderGirl!Reader x Platonic!jon Kent #platonic!jon Kent x WonderGirl!Reader x Platonic! Damian Wayne #WonderGirl!Reader

[fictionalsownme]

"Touch" | season 6 ! keigo takami x reader | WIP BLURB

Hiya! So I've noticed recently that I almost never post my writing on here, even though I write all the time. I'm just so easily distracted I almost never finish things, but I thought I'd start sharing what I do have so some of these little bits can see the light of day hehe :) here's a bit a wrote about how hawks' and the reader's dynamic might shift after his burn and after his personality changes a bit!

disclaimer: this blurb is unedited and unfinished. just wanted to share some WIPs! Enjoy!

Recently, Hawks— Keigo— had been touching you even more than normal.

You would say he’s finding excuses for physical contact, but there’s not even reasons most of the time.

It’d been about a week since you started riding around with him, Jeanist, and Endeavor. All Might, Deku, and some other pros were part of the efforts, too.

Being a civilian, you knew you brought them more risk than aide, but you weren’t totally useless. And now Hawks— now Keigo— insisted on you being by his side.

It’s not as if you and him had never touched before. In the year you’d known him and worked for him, the two of you had actually gotten really close. And when his name was revealed to the public, he asked you to start calling him that all the time.

No one else, just you. It was taking some getting used to.

It wasn’t long after that the touching started. The near constant physical contact.

A steady hand at your back seemed to be his favorite. But there were other motions too. Touching your arm, playing absently with the edge of your jacket, nudging his shoe with yours. Even just keeping you within arms length seemed to be a must.

Not that you didn’t like it. You definitely did. Each touch was so warm and protective, it made you lightheaded. And in these times… any comfort was a blessing.

You figured that’s why he’d been doing it. Just basic coping, nothing more. You understood. Before all this mess, before he’d been burned, you had always been the first to offer hugs and reassurances. You’d even held hands once or twice. Platonically, of course. But nothing like this.

It wasn’t just the physical nature of your relationship changing, either.

He had this air about him when you were near. It simmered when he talked to you, when he touched you or looked in your eyes. An almost… protectiveness. Possessive.

It was the same with his name. He hadn’t asked a single other person to call him Keigo, and no one did. Except you. And he was adamant about it.

You were flattered, and happy to do this for him. But you were a bit embarrassed to admit that you’d been struggling to adjust. You kept using his hero name by mistake. At first he’d just corrected you with an unreadable expression, then started to tease you about it, but now he’d resorted to waiting until you got it right to respond at all. Even though he’d hadn’t been as outwardly playful since he’d been burned, you knew he wasn’t actually mad at you or anything. Another change you understood. He was being more authentic to who he was. More reserved and quiet and thinking. Again, an adjustment to be sure, but you were happy.

You didn’t mind this slightly new dynamic. In fact, you were hopelessly in danger of falling even more in love with him than you already were, the poor man.

You swore that if he slid his palm over the expanse of your back one more time, tenderly whispered your name like that, gave you instructions with a warm, grounding touch… you were going to lose it and confess on the spot.

You stumbled when one of the incapacitated villains stuck their foot out to trip you as you walked past. You glared at him. Tied, gagged, beat up, and still trying to cause shit.

You kicked at his foot.

“Come stand over here,” called Hawks’— fuck, Keigo’s— still slightly raspy voice.

You gave the villain one more stink eye, and came to stand next to where Keigo was leaning against the car. His hand went to your back immediately. Warm even through his glove and your sweater.

It truly concerned you how normal that was starting to feel. How disarming.

He gently rubbed your back with his thumb, his palm flat against your spine, waiting silently for Jeanist and Endeavor to come back with instructions for the goons.

The feeling of his hand… strong and grounding like an anchor… your eyes slid closed after only a few moments.

Like you said, lately comfort was desperately needed and hard to come by. You kept your back straight, clutching your bag to your chest, savoring the feeling of your best friend. There to keep you safe.

When your eyes opened, they slid over to him on instinct. He was watching you.

You cheeks flared but you kept his gaze. He wasn’t… anything really. Not happy or upset or surprised. He just looked back at you, his hand still against you.

God you swore… sometimes you were so ridiculously close to just grabbing him by the stupid jacket and kissing him senseless. Just to feel it, to feel him, to see what he would do. To see if it would really ruin your life like you told yourself it would.

This somewhat new side of him was intriguing to say the least. Not afraid of silence, of a blank expression, of showing he was thinking. Before his burn and the collapse of society, his training kept his expression in a claustrophobic range of cock-sure grin to open laughter. The only exception was when he was squaring off against villains, or simply too tired to mask himself properly. The later was still rare, however. He only ever willingly stopped presenting when the two of you were alone, and you were proud to say you’d gotten very good at seeing beneath it all.

But things were different now. He didn’t bother to hide. As his friend, it was a breath of fresh air, and it was nice to see no one else seemed to mind either. He still laughed and smiled and made stupid quips. But he didn’t bother to be someone he wasn't.

But he’d been changing too, inside. Everyone had. Less hero and more man. Maybe that’s why he’d asked you to start using his name.

#kenna writes #wip #blurb #mha #bnha #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #bnha hawks #mha hawks #hawks #keigo takami #mha keigo #bnha keigo #hawks x reader #keigo x reader #keigo takami x reader #hawks x you #hawks x y/n #keigo x you #keigo x y/n

[adventuringblind]

Sharing is Caring

Lando Norris x Reader X Oscar Piastri

Genre: Smut

Request: no, this is purely practice and experimental writing

Summary: Lando has always lived by the rule that sharing is caring, this includes his girlfriend… and maybe also himself

Warnings: filthy smut, Lando and Reader are menaces, PinV, dom/sub dynamics, fingers, anal,

Notes: alright listen here, I am a whore for these men and I’m not to proud to admit that. This is experimental because I want to write a scene for my series where the group is three bisexual males a female, but have never attempted majority of what that would entail (more then one partner, actual gay sex and not whatever the hell that thing I wrote with Daniel was). Y’all are not allowed to judge me! My information is coming from Ao3 and I blame that on whatever this spirals into.

Masterlist

The following media is not intended for anyone under the age of 18. Minors please do not interact with this post!

You and Lando had been together since he started at McLaren. He was clueless and you were meant to be an assistant or intern or something along those lines. Both of you barely over the cusp of being adults.

You describe is as clueless and horny.

He says it was sexy and necessary.

You’d become fast friends, but then friends turned into benefits after a party one night.

Your were both buzzed but definitely coherent. You knew every part of your mind hand wanted him as he licked stripes up your neck. You knew at as he took off your clothes. And you definitely knew it while you came undone on his tongue.

Your situationship turned into a relationship soon after that. You couldn’t keep your stupid feelings for him tucked away in secret. You slipped when he was cleaning you up after you both went hard one night.

It was messy and you stumbled through your relationship clumsily, but soon you found your footing.

Lando had grown up on a common rule in his house: sharing is caring. Though he hated it then, now it seemed to be his motto.

You’d learned this after he had you tied to the bed posts and sent his saliva down your throat. He’d smirked at you and uttered the phrase.

Lando found it endearing how easily you submitted to him. Your entire job was being told what to do and when to do it so he thought you’d be less into it. He was sorely mistake.

He’d had you drunk on his presence alone. His voice the only thing filling your pretty little head. He got off on the power you gave him over you.

Lando had noticed one thing over his first year in formula 1: everyone treated him like an innocent child.

First it was Carlos. His teammate joked about him being a virgin still and Lando was fuming. He knew he should’ve watched his tongue but he could help himself.

“You could always come see for yourself that I’m not.”

That was the first time you’d invited someone in with you. Carlos lost a bit of his pride that night as his younger teammate and girlfriend practically had their way with him. And when Carlos asked him why he would share their bed with him, he’d only responded with “sharing is caring.”

Lando’s next teammate was older and even more frustrating. Daniel picked on the two of them relentlessly. Lando, being older now, held his tongue. But when he started saying things about you, vile derogatory things, he snapped.

“Say it again and I’ll make you regret it.”

Daniel showed up at their room that night expecting a mediocre threesome at best. What he got was the best damn blowjob of his life from you and Lando making him regret every word he’d said from behind.

Daniel also lost a bit of his pride that day and Lando couldn’t help but smirk every time Daniel shifted uncomfortably during the press conference.

You both teased Daniel that day with the “sharing is caring” line.

Now Lando has a teammate younger then him, and he’s a rookie no less.

Oscar is quieter then his other teammates and a stark contrast to Lando in personality.

It didn’t take long for Lando to catch on to his staring at you. The lovely blush that spread across his cheeks every time you touched his shoulder in a friendly way.

“I like him.” Announced Lando one morning.

“Who are we talking about exactly.”

“Oscar, I genuinely like him.”

You’d brought up the idea of adding a permanent third to your relationship. Both of you very open to the idea, just not with someone who likes to tease you two because your young.

Your not to prideful to admit that you’d both brought up Max as an option at one point.

“He’s very sweet and I think you go well together.” You admitted. “To bad he wouldn’t be into it.”

“What makes you say that.”

“Doesn’t peg me as the type.”

Lando choked on his breakfast. “I could make a dirty joke but I’m not going to.” He thinks for a moment. “I actually know he is because he got drunk one night after a hard race and admitted that he’d fuck us both.”

“Does he remember that?”

“Unfortunately no and I’d rather be the one fucking him anyways.”

“How about a game.” You propose. Lando can see the mischief in your eyes. “First to get him to crack wins.”

“Wins what exactly.”

“You already have me so bragging rights I suppose.”

~

It started small. Lando with his hand on Oscar’s knee during briefings, you making sexual comments underneath your breath causing him to choke on his air.

Then it escalated. You were wary that you might be making him uncomfortable, but as lando slips his hand on Oscars thigh, you can see the satisfaction on both their faces.

Ultimately Lando won in the end. The same stupid line he used in everyone coaxing Oscar into your hotel room.

“So we use the traffic light system for safe words just because it’s easy to use and remember.” Lando led Oscar into the room and sat him down on the bed.

He’d already had you in your undergarments and kneeling because since he won this was his prize. Not that you could protest anyways, you’d just make it harder on yourself later if you did.

Oscar was confused for a moment, his eyes raking over your half naked and waiting body while Lando went over some ground rules. “I didn’t realize you guys were into this stuff. Like- where you would need safe words, I guess.”

“Are you okay with that.”

Oscar hesitates for a moment. Unsure of how he should respond. “Can I be honest first?”

“Honesty is better now then us doing something to hurt you later.”

“It’s just that- I’ve done this before, but never with people I actually liked.”

“You like us?” You pipe. Genuine shock shooting across your face.

“It’s not something most people expect of me. Wanting to date more then one person feels weird to talk about I suppose.”

“But it’s not weird because we like you to.” You smile. Grateful that Lando isn’t shoving a gag in your mouth for speaking without permission.

“That being said,” Lando smirks, “how about we show just how much we like you, if you’ll let us?”

“Hopefully I can do the same for you.”

Oscar has suddenly found his confidence and pulls Lando down to his lips. It’s a hungry kiss. Their hands explore each other while your left on the ground. Although waiting obediently, you can’t help but squirm.

Lando pulls away and lands his gaze on you. “Why don’t we show Oscar what the pretty mouth of yours can do.”

You nod your head at him and crawl your way in between Oscar’s legs. Your fingers tugging at his waistband and eyeing him for permission. “I would be sad if you didn’t.” He chuckles. His fingers already finding your hair as you pull off his sweats and boxers in one go.

He’s already very hard and admittedly very pretty. Lando sets himself behind to Aussie and chuckles darkly. “Go ahead love.”

You take the permission and start with just your tongue. Attempting to wet his length before you take him down your throat.

The guttural moan that leaves Oscars lips only encourages you to keep going. You practically shake at you watch Lando strip both himself and the other male of their shirts.

“You can be rough with her, she likes it that way.”

The Aussie takes that as his cue. One hand forms a makeshift ponytail and the other lines himself up with your mouth. You barely get a chance to breathe before Oscar is shoving himself down your throat. You hollow your cheeks as he bucks his hips up with an unrelenting speed.

You hadn’t even noticed you left yourself in a waiting position. Oscar slows for just a moment as he sees the tears roll down your cheeks and the absent placement of your hand on his leg. He pulls your arm up and sets your hand on his thighs. “One tap to keep going, two to stop.”

You tap once and he’s back at slamming himself into your mouth.

Lando’s fingers are running up and down Oscars body, his mouth giving you the praise you so desire. “Good girl, just like that, isn’t she good Oscar?”

“Fuck- yes, so fucking good, your mouth is amazing.”

There isn’t much warning from him verbally, but the twitching in your mouth and sloppy movements tells you everything you need to know. He’s finishing in your mouth seconds later and you take every drop. Not that you had much choice to begin with anyways. Lando drops down to your level. You hold your mouth open for him, as it routine, and let him inspect. “So fucking good. Such a perfect slut for me.”

Oscars catching his breath. His body still twitching. “I think that’s the best blowjob someone had ever given me.” He pants

You smile proudly at your handiwork.

“It’s not the first time someone has said that.” Laughs Lando. He stands up again leaving you planted on the floor.

“They’d be stupid not to.”

You eye Lando expectantly, assuming he’ll want to make use of your mouth next. “Not tonight love, I have other plans.” He helps you up off the floor and lets you stretch your legs before tossing you on the bed. “I think you’ve done so well that you deserve to be rewarded.”

Oscar doesn’t hesitate to let his fingers dance across your body. He’s watching your face and looking for your most sensitive spots.

You haven't let out a single noise, and you're proud of yourself for it. For as much as Lando loved to tease, he had to admit you are really good at doing what you're told.

Lando is quick to remove the rest of your clothes while Oscar makes it his personal mission to make you moan. Something you intend on not doing. At least until your given permission.

With you now being exposed to the hungry eyes of the two males, you can't help but feel a tad overwhelmed.

Though it doesn't last long, though, as two mouths are hungrily sucking and nipping at the most sensitive parts of your breasts. Leaving marks as they go. You bite down so hard on your lip that it bleeds.

Lando can read you like a book. He knows you're focused on behaving and not enjoying the moment. "Moan for us love, tell us how good you're feeling." And with that, you're a whining mess.

Lando detaches himself from you. "You can return the favor if you want Oscar." He's smirking. Lando has always known exactly how to play this game. How to get then exactly where he wants them.

"Mmm think I'd rather take you."

You almost choke at the look the flashes across the Brits face. He's never been in this position before. Sure, he's had the other guys suck him off, but that was on his instruction. This is new territory.

Oscar is crawling over the top of you and sliding himself down Lando. The Brit is still too shocked for words.

He tests the limits, taking a few kitten licks over Lando. Then, makes direct eye contact and slips his mouth over the entirty of Landos dick.

It's weird to watch them. Normally you have a job. Without one you just go back to waiting.

Oscar pulls his mouth off for a moment and looks at you. "You know his body better than me. Why don't you show me where he likes being touched."

Oh this was definitely new territory. You didn't know what to do in this situation. You look at Lando for some sort of idea.

"Guess you get to listen to two people tonight." Then, without hesitation, you let your hands roam freely.

It's funny, you think, that Oscar had moved your hand earlier but now his hands were placed on wither side of the Brit.

To mimic the action he did earlier, you put his hand on Lando's thigh. He looks at you with appreciation and then continues taking apart the Brit underneath him.

You attach your lips and your teeth to places you know he's sensitive. Dragging your tongue from his pec all the way to his ear lobe.

And as his lips landed on yours, Lando was shaking underneath you. Oscar managed to suck him through his entire high, leaving him in an exhausted heap on the bed.

"Hey Lando, I think our girl has been waiting patiently, yeah?"

The was he says our has you trembling. They are both eyeing you now, and you have no idea what to do.

Lando reaches for your frame and pulls you into his lap. His fingers lazily dance over the one place you ache to be touched.

You sigh as he slips a singular finger into you, moving in and out so slow you think you might cry.

Oscar leaves kisses all over your thighs, working his way up to your needy heat. Lightly flicking your clit with his tongue when he reaches the top.

The two boys are steadily picking up the pace. Lando is gradually adding more fingers. The coil is getting closer to snapping.

Your writhing and panting in their hold. Oscar has his arms hooked under your knees to keep you from moving away. Lando's free arm is pressed firmly under your chest. His teeth sucking marks into your neck and collarbone.

"Please." You beg.

"Please what?"

"Please- fuck, can I come?"

"Go ahead, you've been doing so well, your such a good girl."

The coil snaps, and the ecstasy floods every inch of your body. Your body spasms, flailing your limbs in every direction.

The boys hold you firmly in place, determind to ride every second of your high out of you.

You're left panting as you come down. Sweat now glossing over all three of you.

"Wanna keep going?"

You and Lando look at Oscar. His face was completely unfazed. Who know the Aussie could be so insatiable.

"You know, we don't normally do this, but if y/n wants to, I'm okay if you fuck her."

Your mouth drops in shock for the umpteenth time that night. Lando had never let anyone else fuck you and you were okay with it.

Again, new territory.

Oscar looks over at you. His eyes questioning. "Or I'm very willing to take you both at the same time."

Good grief. The stupidly shy bashful Australian boy has the sex drive of an animal in heat.

Normally, it's Lando in charge, but there seems to be a change. He actually likes Oscar. This isn't some attempt at teaching someone a lesson or proving a point. This is a genuine attempt at inviting him in.

You were glad that you got to keep the spot on the bed. More on the edge of the bed now, but still the bed nonetheless.

Oscar is still lapping at your skin like it's a drug. You can feel the marks covering your skin from where he's been sucking at you with his teeth.

Normally, the two of you didn't use lube unless it was an occasion like this. Even then, it wasn't much. Lando thought is would be amazing to use the entire bottle over the three of you. Because apparently, the sweat isn't enough.

Oscar's moans are steadily increasing as Lando continues to work his ass. The Austrian is using you as a human gag to hopefully keep his volume at a reasonable pitch.

Lando likes a stripe onto the back of the Male in front of him. "Do you think you're ready?" He's looking at both of you for confirmation.

It all happens far too quickly for your liking. The fact that all your bodies fit together like puzzle pieces. The way the pace was a speed you'd yet to experience (how these boys could snap their hips so fast was beyond you).

Oscar has practically fallen on top of you at this point. Lando is doing his best to keep the Australians full weight off of you. He's not even moving anymore. Lando is moving in and out of him and you by proxy.

It's a weird feeling having the weight of two body's between your hips. Your close and desperately chasing your second high of the night.

Unlucky is the only word that comes to mind as Oscar and Lando reach theirs in sync. The feelings of watching them together are damn near indescribable, and it makes you wish you joined them.

You are also someone who likes to please. This means that faking it seems like the best option.

As you'll soon come to find out, this is far from the a good plan.

Both Oscar and Lando are panting and trying to get resitiated. Both of them eyes you cautiously. Then they look at eachother, then at you, then eachother, until finally they say something.

"Pretty sure I know a fake orgasm when I see one." Comments Oscar.

Lando was unfortunately not able to see you very well, so not only is he glad Oscar was able to read you, but now he's received to know he can see when you're obviously trying to please.

You feel yourself flush and curl your knees over your chest. Guilt? Shame? Lust? All at once? There are too many feelings for your foggy brain right now.

"You should know better, love. Did you think we weren't going to be happy with you?"

You feel yourself slipping into the lovely fuzzy head space and the sound of Lando's almost condescending tone.

"I don't know, Oscar. I think now we need to make sure she can be honest with her body." Lando smirks at the Australian whos still out of breath and supporting himself of the Brit.

Their eyes find yours, and you're met with that hungry look once again. At this point, you've resigned that this night is never going to end, and if you're being perfectly honest, you don't want it too.

"Color?"

"Green."

Then they're pouncing on top of you like they've caught themselves dinner. Hands are everywhere and nowhere all at once.

It's hours later when you're spent. They drew at least five more out of you. All in various different ways.

Now came the most intresting part.

You're a mess lying on the bed. Limbs a twitching pile of mush. Your hair stuck to your skin. Eyes glossed over and head heavy with a thick fog. So deep in your damn head space.

Their mixed words of shame and praise somehow set every one of your nerves alight. You'd been calling both of them a title usually reserved for just Lando, but he hadn't corrected you.

You whine as the pull away. Your body already missing their touch.

"Gotta get you cleaned up, beautiful. Don't want to you to get sick."

A slurred 'yes sir' makes its way out of your mouth. Other words are far too difficult right now.

"Mmm need to know you're here with me."

"I'm here, I think."

Lando is mildly impressed that the two boys managed to put you so deep into the blissful state of mind. His hands stroke your stick thighs as he hums words of praise. Slipping in the occasional gentle kiss to your hand.

Oscar comes back cleaned up first. Still without a shirt, but his sweats are back on. "So aftercare, is there a routine you guys normally have or does it very? Do you want me to go?"

Oscar doesn't miss the frown of your face when he suggests he leaves. "Stay. Please." Again, it's mumbled and slurred, but both boys can tell what you're trying to say.

"No worries, I'm right here." Oscare slides into the bed next to you.

"Wanna stay with her, and I'll clean up? I'll get some rags and things as well. Normally, our third has left without helping me take care of her. Had to take her to the doctor once after Daniel bruised her throat with his hands, and she couldn't talk for a week. So I won't lie, this is new."

"Well I like you both and if you'll have me I'd like to stay around awhile."

There was a knowing look shared between all three of you that even your your state you recognized. Oscar wanted to stay, and you and Lando wanted him to. For more than just the sex.

Lando tossed Oscar a wet rag. To cool damp feeling of the towel felt nice on your skin, making you shower with the sensation.

Lando came back a few minutes later, freshend up, and a hair brush in hand. He slides in behind you and gently threads the comb through your locks.

Eventually, you're able to make it to the bathroom on your own, albeit with shaky legs. Lando gave you one of his shirts to change into with the promise of Oscar bringing some of his clothes for you the next time around.

You're still a little shocked that he wanted a next time.

Carlos had admittedly come back for a few more rounds, but there were never any strings attached. Daniel came back, but that always felt competitive. There was consent and communication involved with both parties but it never felt this... intimate.

The two boys made sure you had water and food, so you didn't feel sick after all the energy you'd exerted. Then you slid into bed between them. Sleep hitting all of you in minutes.

The three of you got away with a hidden relationship for about four months until Lando slipped up in an interview. Your first paddock appearance with the two after that was mildly controversial, but they were quick to shut down invasive reporters and toxic fans.

It was a press conference that Lando finally got to use his signature line.

"Lando, you've recently announced your relationship with your teammate and longtime girlfriend. What sparked this into effect?"

"Well you know what they say, sharing is caring."

You and Oscar can only laugh at the Brit and his stupid catchphrase.

#x reader #fanficion #f1 fic #formula one #formula 1 #racing #angst #max verstappen #f1 fanfic #charles leclerc x reader #lando norris f1 #lando norris x you #lando norris x y/n #lando norris x reader #lando norris #oscar piastri x y/n #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri #oscar piastri f1 #mclaren f1 #mclaren racing #mclaren formula 1 #mclaren #McLaren auto #oscar piastri x Lando Norris #op81 #ln4 #oscar piastri imagine #lando norris imagine

[darlingchronicles]

JJ AND THE GOLDEN GIRL HEADCANONS

pairing: jj x fem!goodgirl!reader

word count: 3.2K

based on this and this post that i made. enjoy !!!

✔︎JJ's habits

always watching her. not in a creepy way, but in a curious and somewhat protective way. she's either reading, studying, watching a comfort show or doing something she likes. jj finds her just fascinating not matter what she does. he admires her so much and the fact that he finds her absolutely beautiful is a plus. her mind is always working as well. always thinking. the way she picks her bottom lip or twirls her hair with her finger whenever she's concentrating just drives him wild and sometimes he wish he could read her mind just to find out what's got her attention. however, she also has a tendency to read while she walks or gets distracted by something she's concentrating on and it has lead to his hyper-vigilance. he's caught her after she trips on her own foot almost thirty times since they began dating and pulled her from walking across a busy street more than five times already. he's also had a hand in shielding her from people who seemed suspicious or invasive at keggers. not that he's complaining, he enjoys being her knight in shining armor at times since he usually believes he's the villain.

always willing to lend a hand. no like literally. lend her his hand. she has a tendency to fidget when she's nervous or bored or just in general is always moving in some manner. she was also a chronic nail biter when she was younger and has been trying to kick the habit since. therefore, she's always chewing gum or has a jolly rancher on hand or twirls her rings and bracelets around (if she wears them). one day, she forgot all of the above when she went to hang out at the chateau with jj, john b and pope and was not feeling her best. jj noticed and put his hand in hers and she immediately began to play with his fingers, his rings and bracelet and it calmed her down. now whether she has gum or her accessories, jj always lends his hands whenever he notices her cracking her neck more than twice or shaking her leg. he could be mid-conversation with someone and he'd just hand his hand over and continue talking. she always leaves a thank you by kissing the palm or back of his hand.

always willing to dress up. as they continue dating, she ends up having a preference with how he dresses. she loves his sleeveless shirts, when his hair is messy, his rings, his long gray crewneck sweaters, his red hat and the bandana he wears. she loves all his outfits, really, but these items are just the cherry on top. he notices it (she tends to cling to him more when he wears his sleeveless shirts or stare at him a little longer when he has messy hair) and ends up trying to wear these whenever he has the chance. he likes the little twinkle in her eye whenever she sees him in one of these outfits (or has the accessory). eventually he began to tease her about it and she never admits it but he knows. he just knows.

always ready to hug. growing up, he's never really had physical affection and he's never been in a long-term relationship before so affection is kind of hard for him in the beginning. however once he realizes that she loves to hug him, not just in a romantic way but in a platonic way; it's like she's telling him that's she's there for him and she feels safe around him, he's ready to give her a hug. if she even indicates for a second she wants one, he's already got his arms around her. heck, sometimes she just reaches behind him to grab something and his arms wrap around her waist and pull her in. she appreciates it ever single time. and it also heals a part of jj as he begins to believe that he's not unlovable.

always willing to learn. okay so jj and the golden girls aren't totally similar. in fact, they're pretty much opposites. pope has more in common with her (at least in the beginning). she studies when she has to and as she becomes friends with the group, she does it at the chateau. eventually, one day she asked jj to help her and although he'd rather get day drunk and pay for it the next day, he sucks it up and helps her. he ends up learning a little bit about the history of the King Henry the Eight and his six wives and the way to write an AP Lit. essay and although he can hardly understand any of it, he does it ever single time she asks. eventually he is able to pick up on certain things she's saying and can comment on it. he learns that a way to her heart is through paying attention to her and what she says and he does it without even thinking anymore. he also learns that she's different from the girls he's fooled around with or even somewhat liked, so he learns more about her and her likes, dislikes, hobbies, beliefs, work ethic, love language and more. he wants to learn and for once, he agrees with the saying "learning is fun". in return, she makes an effort to learn more about him.

always willing to teach. golden girl is inexperienced to say the least. it doesn't make her inferior, it just wasn't time and she wasn't comfortable having her firsts with someone who she wasn't in a relationship with. jj notices, in the beginning, that she's hesitant to make the first move when it comes to kissing. she later confesses (through massive coaxing on jj's part) that he was her first kiss and she doesn't know if she was doing it correctly or if she was doing something wrong or if he didn't want her to kiss him as much as she wanted to so she got nervous. jj just chuckled and offered to teach her. it started off slow and then...intense. turns out she's a fast learner and jj's somewhat suspicious on how she caught on so fast, but then again, he is the one to pull her away from where they are in order to have some alone time, so yeah. (although they haven't taken that step yet it's only a matter of time). this ended in multiple makeout sessions in different locations - his room at the chateau, in the living room when no one was there, in the corner of the beach during a kegger, in her room when her parents weren't home, the twinkie (john b doesn't know about this one and they don't want him to know). turns out, he's a pretty good teacher when he wants to be.

✔︎ JJ's quirks

lays on top of her. jj has a tendency to collapse on whatever surface or bed there is when he's tired. he doesn't even look at the bed. just falls and he's out. she's napping in jj's room at the chateau when he comes in, exhausted, from hauling around groceries for heyward. he made money, but he's beat. he took a shower, didn't even bother to put on a shirt and fell onto the bed. right onto her. he doesn't really notice the body underneath him and just wraps his arms around her and knocks out. however, she notices, waking up from the weight off jj on her chest. she tries to push him away and eventually maneuvers her body so she's on top of him and he's beneath her. this doesn't end well as jj always sleeps on his stomach. and this isn't the last time it happens. she swears that he does it on purpose. (maybe sometimes he does).

calls her the most absurb nicknames. her name is reserved for certain and rare moments and everything else has certain timing. he calls her troublemaker as a contrast to her actual behavior, and also when she's coming along on his little adventures. he calls her goody-two-shoes because well...she is. he calls her baby or babe whenever he wants her attention. he calls her princess in those very rare and private moments, but also he also uses it when he's teasing her. he calls her little lady whenever he's trying to be a gentlemen. and then...there's the other ones. he calls her wormy because she's a bookworm and he thought it was funny. he calls her grumpelstiltskin whenever she's extra grumpy or annoyed. he also thought it was funny to call her flounder when he found out she was scared of sharks. it's not all one sided though because she has a book full of nicknames and some are just as ridiculous. they try to one up each other constantly.

loyal to the end. jj finds loyalty to be the thing he wants most in friendships and eventually, his relationship. that's because jj is loyal beyond belief. it could be counted as his fatal flaw. his friends are his family and family is meant to be protected and something to defend no matter what. she becomes a part of that. he can and will fight if he needs to or even if he wants to. she doesn't find some thing willing or worthy of fighting, but she doesn't see it how jj does. he sees it as disrespect on his family, on his girlfriend, if someone made a comment or even looked at her weird. heck even if john b would to get pissed off and start a fight and jj would be cheering for him even if john b was wrong. and with her? someone who chose him? someone who wants to be with him no matter what? his loyalty is undying. she could be wrong, she could be right, she could be wining or losing, whatever it was, he was by her side, supporting.

ఌ Golden Girl's habits

always looking five steps ahead. jj is not in need of babying. she knows this. he's sixteen and knows there are consequences to his actions even if he's not in favor of those consequences. however, she gets to know that he is reckless because he thinks he knows everything will turn out like he plans it out. but, sometimes it doesn't. and when he's cornered, she already had a way out. sometimes she laughs with smile because she loves his adventures and how he plans with a childlike imagination. but even then, she likes to plan in her head in case anything goes wrong. she doesn't want jj to end up in jail or in major trouble (or any of the pogues) but even she admits that running from the cops is kind of fun and although she may have had a minor anxiety attack the first time, she was glad she already planned and knew the local back roads instead of the main highway. she tends to always have a food or a first aid kit in her bag in case of anything and if she's not there when the boys get stupid, her phone is always turned on. she knows she can depend on him when she's in trouble and jj knows he can depend on her.

always reassuring. she grew up a pogue so she understood bad and horrible home lives. she didn't have it all that bad, but it wasn't always pretty. jj on the other hand. she's heard and eventually seen the results of him and his father fighting. this resulted in jj having a deep rooted belief that he was unlovable. he believed he had to earn love. she quickly picked on it and tried to show him that he wasn't. she did things for him, never asked questions if he didn't want to answer, gave him space, gave him words and affection with reassurance wrap in it. he once asked if she ever got tired of him and she merely answered with "i could never be tired and i never will be". she said it with such confidence that a part of him began to believe it. little by little they were both healing parts of themselves, but her habit of reassurance always helps him stay ground. and in return, she has his undying devotion and admiration that includes reassurance of his own.

always willing to try something new. she's not that fond of getting into trouble and jj's middle name is trouble (and he calls her troublemaker ironically) but when jj suggests they go and do something kind of illegal like spend the night in one of the "in-progress" kook houses, she sucks up her fear and goes along. she's worried, but is willing to be apart of jj's recklessness because it's a part of him. she can't fight it so she'd join him. little by little, she gets more comfortable as she begins to understand that jj would never endanger her and if he had to, he'd take the blame for everything if it meant she'd stay out of trouble. and little by little, she enjoys getting into trouble with him and him only. after their little adventures are done and they're resting for the night, she only smiles and wonders what the next one is.

always leans towards him. the golden girl is use to the dangerousness of the southside as she lives there, but sometimes, even she gets scared or worried. it's just the world we live in. whenever they go out, she began a habit of leaning towards jj or moving near him. she knows that he would always protect her and would die trying to do so. of course she has a mean can of pepper spray and a punch that could send a grown man to the floor, but having jj next to her has her more relaxed. even if she wasn't afraid or in danger, she tend to grab his hand or lean her head on his shoulder without even thinking. having the physical contact with him makes her so happy because he's allowing her into his space and she's touch starved so much that it just makes her so giddy. and jj always puts his arm around her, holds her hand, kisses her cheek or pushes her hair out of her face. he leans towards her as well.

always smiles at him. her smile is something jj sees constantly. and she doesn't fake it at all. she happy to see him, hear his voice, watch him try some stupid thing with pope and john b. and jj is also funny guy and although he says the most absurd things, she can't' help, but smile. it's just an impulse. the joke could be the worst thing or could be a repeated one from the week before, but she always smiles. she learned that jj tells jokes to those he deems worthy of hearing them and they could be in the worst situation and he'd try to lighten the mood. he hated things being tense and worrisome, so he told jokes. she always smiles to show she appreciates them and she never wanted him to stop. jj has begun to recognize all her smiles - the coy ones, the teasing ones, the genuine one, the sarcastic one.

ఌ Golden Girl's quirks

watches and speaks to jj as he sleeps. it began with a romance book she read while having a sleepover at the chateau. the characters reminded her of the two of them. the boy was wild but sweet and the girl was independent but ambitious. it was a wonderful love story and she felt so grateful that she ended up with someone like jj. she ended up sleeping with jj in his room and she just watched him breath. he slept on his stomach with his arm splayed across her waist. his lips were slightly parted. his hair sticking out everywhere because he moves. he looked so peaceful and calm. it's one of her favorite moments with jj when she can admire him without him noticing. just a small moment where she can speak beautiful things out into the night. how she was grateful for him. how she thought he looked like an angel sleeping. how she couldn't believe he chose her and tries everyday. she tells him how she notices everything about him. she'll whisper to him until she falls asleep, hoping that her words will melt into his dreams. and sometimes it does but he doesn't know it's because she's talking to him as he sleeps. he wakes up with a smile and turns over to look at her sleeping, deciding to just admire her for a little before he wakes her up.

connects him with songs and stories. any love story you can think of, she's thought of jj and her in it. any love song whether it be taylor swift or frank sinatra, she danced in room thinking of her and jj. it's so cute and she hopes that jj never finds out because he would totally tease her. it's without provocation at this point. the other day, she heard "paper rings" on the radio and nodded in agreement as she thought of it with her and jj. she went for ice cream after work and jj was working with john b and she thought of allie and noah for a moment, agreeing with the notion that she'd have a long summer romance with him if she was a touron, but they'd make it in the end, and continued on with her day. some called her lovesick or just a teenager, but she doesn't care. it's her first love and she's also his, so she allowed herself those thoughts and moments. a part of her knew that it would end well. she just knew.

gets him little gifts. she works, but she also likes the little home made gifts. she got really into origami when she was younger and likes to take the gum wrappers after she popped the gum in her mouth and make hearts with them. the first time she did it around jj, she handed it to him and went on studying. jj still has it in his wallet next to polaroid of the two of them sleeping together on the hammock during a sunset (taken by sarah). she's made him a bracelet. she saw a hat she thought he'd like and put it in his room to find. she noticed his shoelaces wearing out so she got new ones and replaced the old ones. she's made him a mixtape of all his favorite songs on a CD so he could listen to it in the Twinkie. she's written him a love letter before, but she refuses to give it to him. yet. she made a little plate during her pottery class in high school and put it in his room so he had a place to put all his rings and bracelets so he didn't loose it. she even made him a few origami cranes, swans and other animals because he kept asking. (he wants to ask her to teach him one of these days). he notices and feels touched, but he doesn't know how to express it because she clearly doesn't want a thank you. she just wants to do it. so he repays her in certain ways. once she grabbed a random rock from beach and ended up drawing on it with sharpie. she left it in his room for him to find with a little note saying she named it "rocky" and he would live with him. (jj ended up making "rockette" and she lives with golden girl in her room. they make jokes about sharing custody all the time).

thedarlinglore: this concept of jj with the golden girl (or good girl) just has my damn heart. like it makes me wanna giggle and write for hours. soooooo a FIC IS COMING SOON! i'm drafting rn and i am not busy this week so hopefully it only takes like 3 days bc i like to write longgggggg fics (my last was 18.8k). you might enjoy that one while i write this one. hope you enjoyed!

➣ my last "jj" work | "oh schroeder"

#darlingchronicles #jj maybank #jj maybank concept #jj maybank blurb #darlingconcepts #outerbanks #obx #outer banks #jj maybank fluff #jj mayback x reader #jj maybank headcanons #jj maybank headcanon #jj maybank x fem!reader #jj obx #jj maybank imagine #outer banks headcanons

[shycoconutt]

A Future With You (Gojo x Reader)

Summary: It's been a long time since Satoru and you talked, and there are some feelings that are threatening to come to light. Can you both move on from your tragic past?

Content Warning: MDNI (18+) smut, penetration (unprotected sex, finishing inside, oral fem receiving), fem reader, some angst, porn with some plot, praise, past betrayl. Takes place post night parade, pre season one.

WC: 5.8k

Notes: I did it! First semi-long fic for JJK! Requests are open, fyi :)

“Why do you do that?”

Saturo Gojo's voice pierced through the room, interrupting your focus on your paperwork. Ignoring him, you continued ticking off points on your mission checklist, frustrated by the tedious task mandated by the higher-ups.

Ugh, it’s so annoying that they make us fill these out every time. It’s pointless, they never even read them. 

 “Hellllllloooooooooooooooo,” Satoru sings in your direction. 

Glancing up, you find Satoru leaning forward in his chair, his white hair gleaming under the fluorescent lights of his office in one of the main buildings of Jujutsu High. His eyes are covered in thin, black material. To his right, Nanami is sprawled out on the sofa with his head resting on the armrest, one leg hanging off the side and his foot on the ground. He’s passed out, finished paperwork resting on his slowly rising and falling chest, oblivious to the world.

"My bad, I thought you were talking to Ken," you apologize, turning your attention to Satoru.

“Oh yeah, suuuuuuuure,” he pouts, “You always ignore me.”

“Not always, but most of the time,” you smile teasingly.

You were so used to Satoru’s presence, that ignoring him was one of the only ways to keep you sane. 80% of what he babbles on about is nonsense, and he knows it. He lives to tease you. The truth is, you’ve grown up together, faced death, lived and loved together. You don’t technically ignore him, you couldn’t if you tried, you just tune him down a little, like the radio.

After a brief pause, you relented, "Why do I always do what?"

Satoru smiles and leans back into his chair, pressing his fingers together. 

“That thing with your feet,” he smiles, pointing towards them. 

You draw your attention to your feet crossed on the coffee table in front of you. You only had your socks on, for comfort. Your brows furrowed in confusion, not exactly sure what he was getting at. 

Satoru scoffs, reading your face. “That thing!”

“What thing?!” you ask, bemused.

Satoru sighs and tilts his head back in frustration. Bringing his hands together again, he begins to rub them into each other in a haphazard manner. 

“This whole thing you do,” he continues to demonstrate, “It’s like your feet are making out!”

You begin to giggle as he becomes more aggressive with his hands. Your joy comes in waves throughout your body, thoroughly amused. Satoru knows how much you love his physical comedy, so he really hams it up for you.

Suddenly, he springs up from his chair and explodes like a firework, “You’re doing it again!”

“Argh, why are you yelling?” Kento grumbles from the couch, papers crumpling under his grasp as he sat up from his sprawled-out position. 

“Oh, sorry Kenny,” Satoru puts a hand up to his mouth and grins. Giggles are still escaping from you as Kento grunts in frustration, gathering his papers and brushing himself off from his slumber.

“I was just over here trying so hard to complete my important work,” Gojo continues, "but we have a little cricket in the room," he quipped, looking over at you with a playful glint in his eye. It’s a look you are all too familiar with. It’s a look that gets you out of bed in the morning.

God, he’s so pretty.

Satoru is the type of pretty that transcends human – part of you swears he is extraterrestrial. His skin was born without imperfection. His white hair, although sometimes wild, is shiny and smooth. His teeth look like they are made of pearls. His body is sturdy, yet aerodynamic. Then, of course, there are his eyes. 

His eyes are like mirrors facing a partly cloudy sky. Often you wondered if they would suck you in, spit you out, and watch you freefall.

Terrified of hitting the ground, you never fully give yourself over to him. You never released all of what was inside of you. If he was the sky, you were a single raindrop resting in a storm cloud, waiting to fall if the pressure of it all became too heavy.

But with him, at least on the surface, it rarely got heavy these days, so you were always able to float around in the bliss of ignorance. Maybe one day, the cloud would pass by, or evaporate altogether. Part of you hoped it would, part of you didn’t want to experience the pain that it could cause. A life without him seemed empty – a desert void of life.

But what came next threatened a downpour.

“Well, I’m out of here,” Kento huffs, “I don’t know why either of you let me fall asleep. You both know I hate staying here past five.”

“Sorry,” you start, “you just look so peaceful when you sleep. It’s a nice change of pace.” You smile, throwing him his jacket that rests next to you. 

Kento let out a small hum in thanks, putting on his jacket in one quick move, swiftly exiting the room without a goodbye. 

“Bye, my love! I’ll miss you every second you’re not in my arms!” Satoru cries out, running to the doorframe to wave Kento off. You scoff at his antics, turning back to your work, you finish off the rest of your checklist with disregard. Feeling the couch dip, you feel a familiar warmth on your side as Satoru makes himself comfortable. 

“You know what’s funny?” he starts, “I’ve always noticed they way you mush your feet together. You do it constantly, you know that?” Taking his blindfold off, he loops it around his pointer finger, pulling the fabric back with his other hand. With pinpoint accuracy, he slingshots the band around your crossed feet. “They release a tiny amount of cursed energy when you do, it’s almost like you have a pilot light.” Obviously pleased with himself, his lips spread in a tight smirk, making your face feel warm.

God, you loath Satoru Gojo. The way his single observation makes your stomach do flips. Knowing that he perceives you. That he recognizes your patterns.

Suddenly, your hair is being pushed behind your ear by Satoru’s long fingers, his arm stretched across the length of the back of the couch. 

“So soft,” you hear him mumble, barely audible. His fingers linger on the back of your ear, slowly gliding down to lightly pinch your earlobe. You watch him intently out of the corner of your eye, at a loss for words. Although his touches were light, they feel like they burn. 

“Satoru…” the noise that leaves your mouth is barely a whisper.

“Hm?” he muses, fingers leaving your ear to grip your shoulder. His grip is firm, almost uncomfortable as he turns you to look him in the eyes fully.

This is one of those moments – he is sucking you in and you don’t know where you are going to fall.

-

That is how you two always seem to navigate, pushing the limits of what defines your relationship with moments like this. You were friends, colleagues even. You work tremendously well together, which both you and the higher-ups discovered after the death of Haibara, then the following departures of both Geto and Nanami. With just you, him and Shoko left of your former teams, and Shoko staying behind on campus to further advance her reversed curse technique, both of you were usually sent out together on missions.

At first, your missions were always done in silence, both of you trying to heal your traumas internally. In both of your defenses, navigating without verbal communication went on without a hitch. You danced around each other, synchronizing your attacks and defending the other’s back. You didn’t mind him taking the lead in most cases, because you were always exactly where you needed to be when the moment struck. You hate to admit that his looks of approval are what kept you going during that dark period of your life.

It wasn’t until you were at death’s door when feelings bubbled up to the surface. What seemed like a routine mission turned for the worse when a gaggle of special grade curses were congregated in your area. You were cornered, and with no way out, Satoru was forced to use his domain expansion. You knew it well, understanding the rules of the infinite domain. As long as you were touching, you were safe. 

But Satoru cracked. In the fight leading up to the point of his release of the technique, he became high off of the feeling of exorcizing strong curses. He hates to admit it now, but his vision tunneled, and he forgot about you. 

At that moment, you were not observed. You were not perceived. You were not recognized. You were an afterthought – a casualty.

As quickly as the domain exploded around you, it released. Satoru realized his mistake in a quarter of a second, but at the time, he thought that was all it took. Barely escaping the area, he raced back to Tokyo with you in his arms, your body breathing but lifeless. You couldn't respond to his cries, his profuse apologies, his pleads to the gods to let you live. Satoru Gojo thought he killed you, and he swore to you that he couldn’t, and wouldn't, move on without you.

Turns out that over the course of your time together, your roots were intertwining – hope for a new life manifesting in each other's strength to continue forward, despite everything.

You were out of it for weeks in a bed tended by Shoko. She cared for you, studied you. She took note that you were conscious, but unresponsive. It wasn’t until after where you told her that you were, in fact, conscious – all your senses worked, but you couldn't get your body to move. It was like you were frozen, much like how it was inside Satoru’s domain.

Satoru was banned from seeing you, although he often broke that rule. Every night you could sense his presence at your bedside, his delicate fingers tracing softly over your exposed skin. Those fingers always happened to make their way to your earlobe, pinching you softly there – a small plea for you to come to life. For you to sit up and slap him across the face for being so damn stupid.

And he would let you. He wanted you to leave him bloody and bruised. He wanted to experience pain by your hand. It was what he thought he deserved. That over you not talking to him ever again. Undoubtedly, that would kill him.

He received punishment from the higher-ups for being careless, to which he bore with no complaint. To this day he states that he is unsure what he would've done if you hadn't made a full recovery. Maybe it would have all been too much. 

But you recovered, and you forgave. 

You understood completely, knowing it was an accident. Yes, it hurt a little bit to know that he forgot about you, even for less than a second. Truth is, you forever want to hold a permanent residence in Satoru Gojo’s mind. Quite selfish of you frankly.

After your recovery, time went on and your plates began to fill. Satoru gained students. Nanami came back. New roles were filled. Expectations changed. Your relationship with Satoru continued strong, but it plateaued.

You were stuck in romantic purgatory.

Or so you thought.

 -

“What are you doing?” you finally ask. You struggle to find the emotion hidden in his eyes. They seem excited, playful, yet serious. His brows are furrowed together, hair now fallen in front of them due to the absence of his headband. 

Satoru’s lips pursed for a moment before speaking, “I-” he pauses, seemingly going over the words in his head, “I’ve been meaning to talk to you for a while.”

His hand has yet to leave your shoulder, his thumb slowly rubbing circles in the small divot located in the muscle there. It feels heavenly. Something about his energy seems so calming to you in this moment, and you acknowledge how respectful it is that he waited for a natural minute where you two would be alone. It was very rare these days. Whatever he wants to talk about, you know it’s important to him.

“Satoru, whatever it is, you know you can talk to me about anything,” you say with sincerity, placing your hand over his own.

Satoru gives you a soft smile, “I know,” his eyes travel and find their way to your hand on his, “but rarely does anything we talk about revolve around us.”

Us?

You can’t help the fluttering feeling that gathers in your lower stomach. Satoru was right, you barely had any moments to talk about anything other than work. Nanami and you were always away on missions, and he was always preoccupied with his students and Megumi. You had a moment together after the trials of the night parade and the aftermath of Suguru Geto’s death. You consoled him, took care of him for a short while. But, again, he was quiet. He was in mourning.

After that, when things turned back to normal, you asked Nanami if you could do your mission paperwork together in Satoru’s office from then on out. Any chance you had to check in on him was one you wanted to take. Nanami, being the angel that he is, agreed to this, knowing your intentions without even having to ask.

You have feelings for Satoru Gojo. You care about his well being more than you care for your own. The man labeled famously as God’s Favorite is simply just a man to you. No matter what he or anyone else thinks, you know Satoru is not invincible. He deserves to be protected too.

After a few beats, your stomach settles, and you continue on with more confidence than even he expected.

“Yes,” you begin, “we should talk about us.”

Satoru’s eyes widen by a millimeter, just enough for you to catch.

“Okay,” clearing his throat for a moment, Satoru continues, “I’ve been meaning to talk to you because I’m tired of just letting precious time pass by. You know I care about you deeply, right?”

You nod in reassurance. 

Satoru's eyes darken slightly. Taking his hand off you, he slumps forward in his spot, placing his hands under his chin, propping his head up. You watch as he looks forward out the school’s window, watching the pink skies as the sun begins to set.

He continues.

“You say so, but I don’t think you truly understand. When I thought that I took your life that day, like a dumb fucking idiot, I was prepared to rid this world of my presence completely. I know I’ve screwed up in the past, but I couldn’t screw up this.” Satoru gestures his hand back and forth between your space on the couch. “If I did, and I almost, I wouldn’t forgive myself. Things would have turned dangerous quickly.” The frown he bares hurts your soul completely.

“But we’re okay, Satoru,” trying your best to reassure him, now it was your turn to place your hand on him. Without much thought, your hand found its way to his thigh, gently rubbing the area with your palm. You felt his quad flex slightly at the touch.

Your hand is soon taken away to be held by both of his own, bringing them to his chin as well. His lower lip grazes the skin of your knuckles, sending a rosy flush to your cheeks. He pauses again, obviously finding it difficult to communicate his thoughts.

“Satoru, please,” your tone is soft, encouraging, “tell me what’s on your mind.”

What happens next feels like a whirlwind. One moment, you're sitting across the couch from Satoru, hand against his chin. Next, you are pinned underneath him with your head on the armrest, both his hands planted on either side of your face to hold himself up. Your legs are spread, the cold air touching the warmth of your panties under your skirt. His knee is in between them, pressing against the flesh of your inner thighs. Looking up, obvious shock sketched on your face, you meet his eyes.

Even in the shadow underneath his white hair, they shine with intensity. In the pools of blue, you can see that he is yearning.

You don’t try to move, you don’t protest his advancements. The closer he is to you, the more content you feel. Slowly, he brings his head down to yours, his forehead resting against your own. His breath is warm, smelling of sweet mint. With a lick of his lips, he continues again.

“I thought that you being alive was enough for me. That I could watch you go on, and just merely being in your presence, able to help when you needed me, would satiate my feelings for you.” You can feel the intensity vibrating off of his form. Satoru looks like a man who has starved for days finding his first meal. Is it terrifying? Yes. Do you love it? Yes. You can’t help the playful smirk that dances on your lips.

You don't know if you are going to regret the angle you are about to take.

“Then what happened, baby,” you purr, eyes challenging his own with a flash of pure lust. His eyes widen in what you can imagine is excitement.

“What happened?” Satoru chuckles, darkly, “What happened is I realized that I cannot go on if you are not mine.” 

Satoru’s lips crash into yours with ferocity. Although somewhat aggressive in his movements, his actual contact with you is soft and sensual. His kisses are unleashing his secrets, one’s that seem hard to keep. Parting your mouth slightly, you push your tongue forward to invite him in. Your tongues begin to dance slowly, mixing each other's spit to create a lustful potion. 

One of his hands comes down from the couch to under your shirt, tightly gripping your ribcage. Your hands come up to wrap around the back of his neck, your fingers playing with the short, velvety hair of his undercut. Satoru allows himself to come down slightly, resting his hips over your own. The corners of your lips turn up slightly at the feeling of the hard bulge in his pants against your core. A small moan escapes his lips at the contact. His body was reacting this way because of you.

How fun. 

You take it upon yourself to start undressing Satoru. You start by unpinning his uniform jacket, opening it and pushing it off his shoulders. Bringing your hands down under his white cotton shirt, you take a moment to press your fingers into his hip bones, then you slowly lift up the fabric. Satoru, in compliance, sits up and lets you lift his shirt over his head and up his arms. Shirtless in front of you, you can’t help but admire his long torso. He is lean, but strong. You notice one long scar that starts where his shoulder meets his neck and ends around his belly button.

Around his neck, there is a thin silver chain with a small pendant at the end. Instinctively, you take it between your fingers and notice that it is a small raw amethyst crystal. Hm, the crystal for the sign of Aquarius, I wonder- 

Oh. 

Your eyes move up to meet Satoru’s, and you give him a knowing look. The small smile he gives to you hurts your heart, as you can sense the obvious pain behind his eyes. He removes your hand from his necklace and lays it on his chest where his heart is. You know that this is his way of telling you that he is okay. 

Your breathing hitches in your throat as his hands come down to the top of your blue work vest. He quickly unbuttons the three buttons holding it together, opening it up, then grabs the bottom hem of your shirt and lifts it over your head, exposing your bra to him. 

Satoru comes down to gently nip at the squishy flesh of your upper breast spilling over. You hear him deeply inhale your scent, a small hum in satisfaction leaving his mouth. He quickly grabs the lace of your bra, tugging it down so your nipple is exposed to him. Trailing his warm tongue down the side of your breast, he latches on to your bud, giving it a small suck. 

The first gasp of the night leaves you, your legs tightening around his midsection in response to the stimulation. Satoru grabs both of your breasts in his hands, kneading them together while continuing his ministrations. You let your hand trail down his abs, passing under his waistband to find what you’re so desperately looking for. 

You make contact with the hard tip of Satoru’s cock, a bit of pre smearing across your fingers. You let your hand trail down further, wrapping your hand around the base of his length, giving it a small squeeze. Satoru lets go of your nipple with a pop, letting out a strained hiss at your touch. His hips instinctively buckle forward, causing your hand to stroke towards him. 

“Fuuuuck, baby,” he swears, tightening his grip around your chest. Not without protest, he shifts off of you, your grip coming back out of his pants. You give him a small pout, one he finds adorably sexy.

“I know, sweetheart, I know, but not yet,” he coos, cradling one hand in your hair, “I want to taste you first.”

Without hesitation, he quickly finds the zipper of your skirt, hidden in a fold on the side. In one quick swoop, your skirt and panties are off your body, down your legs and discarded to the floor. You are completely exposed to Satoru, now wearing nothing but your bra pulled off your breasts and your stockings. Kneeling on the couch in between your legs, you watch as he stares at your dripping cunt, a blush quickly forming on his cheeks. Now, you know Satoru is not the type to be bashful.

“What is it, Satoru?” you ask, shaky concern in your voice. Was something wrong?

“That’s the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen,” he stares at your pussy in awe, his tongue slowly coming out to lick his lips.

You look down at yourself and your eyes go wide. Oh my god, I forgot.

Your hands come up to cover your face, your cheeks now burning hot. Of course this would be the case, of fucking course.

“I forgot,” you confess, barely a whisper, “my wax girl was always encouraging me to try something new. So when I went last week, I decided to go for it,” you gulp, “she told me all the different designs she could do for a landing strip, and I thought the heart one was the cutest.” You slowly begin closing your legs in sheer embarrassment, but Satoru quickly stops you, grabbing you by your knees and spreading you apart like a book.

If it was possible to Olympic-dive into a pussy, that was what Satoru just did. 

Satoru Gojo is sloppy. He is messy. Going straight for your hole, he snakes his tongue in as far as it can go, lapping out your juices and spreading them all over yourself. Wrapping his arm underneath your thigh, he brings it around to the top of your pussy to grab your mound, lightly pulling it back so that your clit is jetting out of your folds. Once satisfied with your wetness, he wraps his lips around your bundle of nerves, sucking rhythmically and flicking it smoothly with his tongue. Satoru’s other hand makes its way underneath him, coming out from under his chin to insert two digits into your heat. Once he finds the rough patch at the top, he makes a ‘come hither’ motion with his fingers. Your loud moans escape from you relentlessly. If this was a video game, Satoru Gojo knows all the lethal combos. 

You can feel the coil in your stomach tighten. Oh my god, you had no idea someone could make you cum this fast. Of course, Satoru Gojo is good at eating pussy, of course he is.

Hands coming down to grip his soft, white locks, you tilt your head back in pleasure. Satoru in between your legs feels natural – it feels right.

“Satoru! Oh-” you cry.

“Yes, baby, yes,” he says into your folds, not stopping the work he's doing to make you snap, “you going to cum, princess?”

“Yes! Satoru-” words escape you as you reach your limit. Cunt pulsing around his fingers, you fully give yourself to your release, crying out in pleasure as your juices spill over. Satoru grinds his hips into the cushions as your cum drips out of you, moaning himself, he makes sure to savor every last drop, scooping some out with his fingers and sucking them clean. His cock is throbbing in the confines of his slacks, begging to be inserted into your pretty folds.

You watch with half-lidded eyes as Satoru comes up from in between you, mouth and chin glistening with your juices. His face is flushed, hair in disarray from your grasp, chest heaving as he breathes in air after suffocating himself inside you. You feel yourself pulse again at the sight of him. He looks like an animal, and it sets off something primal inside you.

Sitting up from your position, not knowing exactly what is coming over you, you grab Satoru by his neck and guide him to a sitting position on the couch. Once he’s seated, eyes wide in shock, you swing your leg over his lap and straddle him, hand still remaining around his throat. His hands come up instinctively to wrap around your waist. His mouth is slightly agape, looking up at you with lust and, maybe, a little bit of fear.

At this moment, you don't give a damn if you look crazy. You need him.

“Satoru Gojo,” you begin, your voice laced with arousal, “I am going to fuck you so well, you’re going to go blind.”

All he can do in response is nod. Dipping your head, you bring your mouth to the crook of his neck, sucking and nibbling at his skin there. He moans, tilting his head away to let you explore further. Taking your hand off his neck, you work to open and unzip his slacks. Tugging at the waistbands of his slacks and boxer briefs, he lifts up his hips so you can pull them down to his thighs. You look down to watch as his cock slides downwards, caught in the band until you bring them down far enough for it to snap upward and smack his abdomen, Satoru letting out a pained hiss as it does. His member is long and thick with a pretty-pink tip. It’s quite beautiful, really.

You look up again to meet Satoru’s eyes with a devilish grin. You can’t fucking wait to feel his member inside you. With a couple of long, drawn-out pumps down his length, he tilts his head back over the couch to let out a long moan. It’s music to your ears. Bringing your hand to your cunt, you gather some of your juices and coat your fingers. Wrapping your hand around him again, you pump harder and faster this time, gliding with ease when adding your slick. Satoru can only grip harder into your sides.

“Oh, you’re going to kill me, baby,” he gasps, “please, sit down on my cock. I don’t know how much more I can take.” He brings his head forward again to rest on your chest, and you take the opportunity to kiss the back of his neck.

“Okay, okay, baby,” you comply, taking the fat tip of his cock and positioning your entrance on top of it. Satoru quickly looks up again, wanting to watch your expression as you take him in. Slowly, you lower yourself onto him, letting his tip enter the first ring of muscle. You can't help but let out a moan, bring your hands to Satoru’s shoulders for support.

“That’s it, that’s it,” Satoru coos, “take as much time as you need baby,” rubbing his hands in circles across your hips, he brings his mouth up to yours and slips his tongue in, to which you suck sensually. You can taste yourself on him, and it turns you on.

You lower yourself a bit further now that you have adjusted, and it feels euphoric. Although you know it’s probably best to wait a bit more, you can’t help but push yourself to the limit to fully feel all of him. You need him. Gradually, in one continuous movement, you take him to the hilt. Not breaking away from his kiss, you wrap your arms around his head and completely relax yourself. Satoru’s tip was resting on your cervix, and you decided to start off with a couple pulses for good measure.

Once he realized what was happening, he broke free from your lips and gasped, “Oh, you naughty girl. You could just do that and you would milk me for all that I have.”

“Another time,” you smirk and lift yourself about halfway up his shaft to then quickly slam yourself back down again. Satoru cries out, thighs flexing in response. “I want all of you.”

“Yes,” he cries out, “you have me, baby. You have me now. Forever.” Bringing his hand down to your heat, his fingers swirl around your clit. You let out a gasp as he takes your juices and brings it to your nipple, covering it with your slick. Satoru then leans down and sucks on it ferociously.

“Oooo, yes, baby, yes, I love that,” you moan out, allowing yourself to start riding him fully. “You have all of me too, baby. Forever.” You quickly find a good pace, the sounds of your bodies slapping together sends you into overdrive. You can hear your pussy squelching over his cock, making you more aroused at the lewd noise. Satoru’s hands have found their way to the plush underside of your ass, helping support your weight as you move up and down on him.

With his member pounding your cervix, his mouth working wonders on your breast, and his hands spreading you apart, you can't help but feel yourself starting to tense up, coil threatening to snap. Satoru recognizes this, feeling the familiar sensation of your pussy clenching much like it did around his fingers. He can feel himself starting to let go, but forces himself to hold it together long enough for you to explode. 

And that's exactly what you do. Holding him closely and shutting your eyes, your movements turn sloppy as you ride him to your release. 

“Satoru, Satoru, Satoru, yes, Satoru…” Crying out his name, you let go completely, giving yourself over to him.

Satoru moans out as well, and you swear you feel him twitch inside you, but nothing spills over. Opening your eyes and looking down towards him, you can see that he’s fighting to keep it together.

“Satoru-” you begin to question, but let out a yelp as he lifts you off of him effortlessly. The world spins, and you find yourself thrown over the armrest of the couch, head dipping towards the floor with your ass up in the air. Not more than two seconds pass before he’s grabbed you by the waist and is slamming into you from behind. 

“Ah!” you scream, tone somewhere between shock and pleasure, “Satoru!”

“Sorry baby,” he apologizes, but you can tell he's grinning from ear to ear, “but it’s my turn to fuck you.”

Satoru begins to pound into you without restraint. You can tell that he has one goal: to cum hard and fast. You’re obsessed with the way he lets his inhibitions go, knowing he can only be this vulnerable with you.

“Fuck, I-” he chokes out, “I- I love your smile. I love your eyes. I love your body. I love the way that you feel around me. I love your voice when you cry out my name. I love how-” his voice breaks again. You can tell that he’s reached his peak.

“I love you, god, I love you,” Satoru grabs you by your shoulders, lifting you up to him so your back is now to his chest. His arms wrap around you, engulfing you in a tight embrace and burying his face into your neck. His thrusts were not letting up, but they were getting sloppier. 

“I love you too, Satoru,” your heart swells, “You know I’ve loved you for a long time, baby.” You can feel tears brimming in your eyes and you quickly grab onto his forearms, craving more of his touch. You feel him nod into your neck. He knew, he always knew.

“You wanna cum baby? You wanna cum inside my pussy?” you coo at him. “Give it all to me, I want to feel you fill me up so good.” 

You felt Satoru tense for one last time. Slowing down slightly, he pauses every time he hits your wall. Bringing one of his hands down to your lower stomach, he presses into you to feel the sensation of him inside you. With one last thrust, he’s spilling over, and you can feel thick ropes of his seed coat your insides. If you felt full before, you were even fuller now.

Satoru came, but he didn't want to leave just yet. Very carefully, with him still inside you, he picks you up to bring you to spoon him on the couch. 

You laid there for a while, just enjoying the feeling of each other while you drifted in and out of sleep. While watching you intently and grazing the outside of your arm with his fingertips, Satoru decided then and there that he would formally ask you to be his girlfriend tomorrow, although he already wanted to call you his wife. He never thought he would allow himself to see a future with you, never thought he could forgive himself for putting you in danger. But now that he has made that step, there’s so many possibilities. All he knows is that he never wants to do anything without your support and love, and he will do anything to protect you. No one was going to take him away from you. He loves you, in every sense of the way. 

“Satoru?” you call out to him, still in a sleepy state.

“Yes, my love?” 

“You wanna sleep over at my place tonight?” You ask, a little shyly.

Satoru chuckles softly, “Of course, baby.” You feel him smile, hand coming up to pinch your earlobe.

The sensation sent you back in time. A time where you witnessed Satoru Gojo pleading for your future everyday at your bedside. You know now that he was pleading for something more – a  future with you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/n: Aye! Let me know what you think! <3

#gojo satoru #satoru gojo #satoru x you #satoru x reader #satoru x y/n #gojo x you #gojo x reader #gojo x y/n #jjk x you #satoru gojo x reader #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen #satoru smut

[cvpidsb0ws]

❛LITTLE MISS NURSE.❜ | shuntaro chishiya x fem!reader

genre: FLUFF WEEWOOWEEWOOWEEWOO (enemies kind of shit)

warnings: gore and yes😆😆😆

sypnosis: after hours of waiting for shuntaro chishiya to return from a deadly game, he finally came back. with a lot of blood too. who else would patch him up if not you?

author's note: STOP I ACCIDENTALLY POSTED THIS WHEN I WAS STILL WORKING ON IT ITS SO 👎👎👎👎👎👎👎👎 anyways men in pain r one of the hottest things ever. 😁😁😁😁 (big big big bonus if its shuntaro chishiya!!!!!!)

dedication: @emiemith <333

the pitter-patter of your shoe was heard throughout the whole room, bouncing off the walls, for your foot has been unconsciously tapping the floor the past few hours due to nervousness. minutes turned into hours, and shuntaro chishiya still hasn't been seen. messy hair, sweaty forehead, glassy eyes, chest heaving up and down, fidgeting hands. you had it all.

what if he died?

it was a small chance, knowing he was a one of a kind. but it was still a chance that could happen at any time. no one was invincible in borderland.

but still, you held onto that rope of hope that he was still alive. he had to be.

no, you and chishiya were lovers. you were not even close at all. you were enemies, always at each other's neck, always fighting over the simplest things, and such. but there were times when you both shared your love and care for each other. in your own ways.

and as if your prayers have been answered, chishiya came through the door. but as soon as he stepped in, he immediately collapsed to the floor, coughing out blood. and you didn't waste time to rush by his side to help him.

it took a long time, but with his arm slung around your shoulders, you carried his passed out body all the way to your own room.

you let him lie down on your bed, and you scrambled to get all of the materials you needed to make him feel better.

looking down at chishiya, you tried your best to put your fears aside, and finally look at him. he was truly hurt. he had small cuts adorning his face, and you tried to take his jacket and his shirt off due to the pool of blood on his clothing. but doing so made him jolt awake.

"(name)?"

the sound of his raspy voice made you look back up at him, and you smiled as a way to comfort him. to let him know everything was going to be okay.

"chishiya, you're awake!" you expressed, teary-eyed. you were literally on the verge of breaking down. him being hurt made you hurt. maybe even more.

"(name), you look like you're about to cry. you care about me that much, huh?" he teased you with a smirk, barely keeping his eyes open. "a few scratches won't hurt me. you don't have to patch me up, darling, just because you have a crush on me."

you forced an irritated laugh, ignoring the 'darling'. it meant nothing at all since he always called you that, knowing you got annoyed every single time. to prove a point, you slightly pressed the obvious wound beneath his shirt, and watched as he winced, throwing his head back with a groan.

you chuckled as you pulled away, turning away to grab a wet cloth to clean his wound with. with a smile, you looked at him. "now be a good boy and remove your shirt unless you want me to do it for you, shuntaro."

rolling his eyes, he carefully removed his jacket, and his shirt soon followed. you couldn't help but gawk at the sight. not because of the gash on his stomach, but because of how his body was perfectly sculpted.

you were stuck to your place, and chishiya looked up at you with a teasing smirk. "well, little miss nurse?"

you were quick to cough as a way to clear your throat, licking your lips. and you then sat down on the bed, leaning closer to clean the blood surrounding his wound.

as you were treating the gash, you could hear him trying his best to keep his whimpers and groans quiet. you stopped yourself from smiling uncontrollably after hearing such things, mentally scolding yourself.

"i didn't know you were that good with this, (last name)."

scoffing, you rolled your eyes at him, as you tightened the bandage you were currently wrapping around his stomach.

"and i didn't know you were stupid enough to get stabbed during a game. i mean, it's a shame really . . . seeing such a handsome face with cuts."

"oh, so you do find me handsome?" chishiya remarked with a devilish grin, knowing you were becoming irritated. but it's a good thing you already finished.

ignoring the question, you stood up with a victorious 'done'. he watched you, tilting his head to the side before saying

"if i knew you would be the one to patch me up after getting hurt, i would hurt myself every day."

#alice in borderland #alice in borderland x reader #shuntaro chishiya #chishiya #shuntaro chishiya x reader #chishiya x reader

[cranberrymoons]

may your days be merry

prompt: angst with a happy ending (@steddieholidaydrabbles) word count: 942 rated: t tags: post-s2, steve has head trauma, eddie sells drugs

welcome to Day 14 of the fic advent calendar – bite-sized fics posting every day during the month of december. enjoy!

The headaches start shortly after the second time he gets his ass kicked. 

The ass-kicking happens around Halloween, and the headaches start around Thanksgiving, and he buys weed from Eddie Munson for the first time around Christmas. 

He can mark it out like that: holiday after holiday, little milestones in the deterioration of his brain. He wonders if it’s going to do something to him long-term: the weed or the ass-kicking or the headaches themselves or maybe even all of it. 

Probably. 

A guy doesn’t usually get his brain punched through the back of his skull without some sort of lasting consequence.

The first time he buys, it’s out of desperation more than any real desire to get high; it’s been days since he properly slept, migraines acting up again and making it so that his scalp feels like it’s going to dissolve into atoms and vibrate off his head if he actually lays down all the way, so he’s been sleeping sitting up. 

Sort of, propped on a stack of pillows culled from the rest of the house, but it’s not exactly the most comfortable arrangement. One of the guys on the swim team had mentioned that weed can help chill you out, turn off your brain, make it so your thoughts don’t go spinning out in a thousand different directions like Steve’s do if he’s not careful about keeping a tight hold on his head.

Literally, figuratively.

His head’s all sorts of out to get him lately, ever since last year. 

The first headache, the worst one – not worst in the sense of worst pain, but worst in the sense of like… he just wasn’t expecting it, and so it really fucked up his whole week – that headache came two days before Thanksgiving, when he was on a plane halfway between Indianapolis and New York to visit his grandparents. His parents were sitting two rows ahead of him and unable to help as the changing pressure in the cabin turned his brain to splinters.

By the time they’d landed, the headache had gone away, and so he didn’t mention it, but then it came again and again and again, and so now he’s here. 

Here in the doorway of Eddie Munson’s trailer, feeling like he hasn’t slept in days, because he hasn’t. Feeling like there’s nothing holding him up except sheer force of will. Feeling so, so impossibly alone. 

When Eddie answers the door, there’s an old movie playing on the TV in the background, something festive and cheerful with a bunch of songs in it. Steve’s eyes catch on the screen as he watches Bing Crosby tap dance in technicolor.

“What do you want?” Eddie repeats, ducking his head to force Steve to meet his eye. He even snaps his fingers a few times to get his attention. “Weed? Coke? Party drugs?”

Steve blinks, long and slow. He sways a little on the spot, clears his throat. 

“Not partying,” he says quietly. He looks down at his feet in his sneakers and Eddie’s feet in his socks, the two of them only a foot apart. “I just need to sleep.”

A line appears between Eddie’s eyebrows. He tilts his head toward Steve. “Are you like… okay?”

And that’s – Steve lets out a little laugh that sounds something like a sob, and that’s – 

“No.” He runs a hand back through his hair. “No, man. I’m not okay.”

No one’s asked him that in at least a year. He feels like crying. He thinks he actually might.

Eddie nods slowly, taking him in. “Right on,” he says. Then he opens the door a little wider. “You want to come in? Christmas movie marathon.”

Steve raises his eyebrows, looks between Eddie and the room behind him. “You want to hang out with me?”

“If you’ll deign to grace me with your royal presence,” Eddie says. He widens his eyes, and it’s a little teasing. A little funny, and Steve feels the corners of his mouth twitch with the first smile he’s had in days as Eddie swings the door even wider, letting him inside with a weird little bow and a flourish. “My liege.”

“What’re you watching?” Steve asks as he shrugs out of his coat. 

He hangs it neatly on the hook near the door and looks around the room as Eddie clatters to the fridge to pull out two beers, cracking both open and passing one to him. Steve accepts it, leaning his hip against the counter as Eddie stares at him from where he’s relaxed back against the sink.

“White Christmas,” he says. “But it sucks.”

Steve laughs a little – an actual laugh, bubbling up out of his chest before he can stop it. He takes a swig of his own beer and glances back toward the screen. 

“Got any other options?”

Eddie grins. “Gremlins.”

Steve frowns, shaking his head. “That’s not a Christmas movie.”

“What?” Eddie scoffs. “Please, it totally is.”

“In what way is Gremlins a Christmas movie?”

Eddie’s eyes flash as he pushes himself off the counter, giving Steve a look as he passes by on his way to the living room. He collapses on the couch, feet up on the coffee table. 

“Guess I’ll just have to prove it to you,” he says, tilting his head to the side.

And Steve – exhausted and relieved because his headache is all but forgotten – crosses the room to join him, curling his legs under himself as he sinks down to sit. Eddie’s eyes skate over him as he reaches for the remote, face unreadable, and Steve just smiles back.

[also on ao3]

#steddie #steddie fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #steddieholidaydrabbles #my fic

[chilschuck]

omg… thinking abt chil reconnecting w his ex wife and becoming platonic besties. imagine they talk about it finding love again (chil’s ex has a new gf)… chil realises he’s caught feelings for reader… his ex teasing him about it…

`✦ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹ OMG ANON THIS HAD ME GIGGLING AND KICKING MY FEET, WAHHHH. SUCH A CUTE IDEA!!!! it’s currently 2 am but i had to get this out for you since you’ve been waiting a while!!! it was so much fun!! <33

— ALL BECAUSE OF YOU.

꒰ info: ꒱ chilchuck x gn!reader

꒰ warnings: ꒱ none, sfw!! some cussing ofc lol

꒰ wc: ꒱ 586

✦ tumblr deleted this before i could post it twice so let’s pray it posts this time, LOL. short but sweet, i hope you enjoy!!! <333

“So… Who are they?”

That simple question was enough to make him choke on his drink. Was he that easy to read? Catching his breath, the half-foot immediately sputtered.

“What are you talking about?” Yet, the knowing look on her face said it all. Even if they had been separated for this long, she could still figure out just what he was hiding. So much for trying to keep some things personal…

“You have this expression, this content smile I haven’t seen in years, Chilchuck. Someone’s making you happy.” Her tone was not condescending in the slightest, rather content with this new revelation. Her words caused his cheeks to flush, more than the ale in his cup could.

And she was right. He was coming to terms with his feelings; and even the thought of you was enough to make him whole again. The fact it was so obvious was rather embarrassing, and he could feel the tips of his ears burn.

“Yeah, yeah… I guess you figured it out before I got a chance to tell you.”

They were nothing like they used to be, having settled on staying close through friendship. Although this maybe would’ve been hard to do in the past, Chilchuck felt more peaceful than he thinks he has in years. There was something about you that lit fire to his senses in ways he had long forgotten, and he found himself seeking you out more than he’d like to admit.

“I’ve told you plenty about my new girlfriend, now it’s your turn to spill. What are they like? It’s a sight to see you this happy.”

It was something only someone who really knew him could see; the change in his demeanor, the light in his eyes, the smile that threatened to spill from the corners of his lips. And it was all because of you.

“You’re going to laugh when I tell you how I met them,” he began, licking the ale from his lips in thought. “Laios’ party. I really ended up eating my own words about inner party romance, huh?” The last sentence came out in a grumble, one that caused her to laugh.

“Wow, they made you go against your own rules? Must be a keeper.”

And you were. Warm, but not enough to burn. Bright, but not blindingly so. Sweet, but not sickening. Chilchuck found himself feeling like a teenager again when it came to you. He bit his tongue.

“So you’re going to confess to them, right?” She teased, prodding his shoulder. “Look at you, blushing like a schoolboy. Must be serious.”

He opened his mouth to retort, before closing it again. The words died before he could speak, the full gravity of his feelings for you hitting him like a freight train. Burying his head in his arms, he groaned. “Shit…”

Chilchuck was doomed. Yet even as his head spiraled from a mixture of the alcohol and his new found love, it always went back to you. You, and your smiles, and your laugh, and your touch. There weren’t enough curse words he could possibly growl out in this moment to make himself feel better.

His ex wife laughed again, patting him on the back and stirring him from his thoughts. “Jeez, you really are a schoolboy. Maybe you should give them a love letter while you’re at it. Might be smart, actually.”

That’s how the rest of their time together went; two close friends musing about the ability to find love again. All because of you.

— dividers by @/cafekitsune! <3

#⟡ lilia writes! 🌿 #୨ chilchuck my beloved ୧ #this was SUCH A GREAT IDEA!!!! #LOVE LOVE LOVE!!!! #so much fun to write hehe #sorry it’s so short!!! #i must get to bed soon…. #chilchuck x reader #chilchuck tims x reader #dunmeshi x reader #delicious in dungeon x reader #dungeon meshi x reader