#THANK YOU FOR THE FLOORPLAN EGGY!! I LOVE FLOORPLAN SM OMG

[causenessus]

I HAD TWO MORE TAGS THAT DIDN'T FIT I'M SORRY BUT I LOVE MANEATER SO MUCH I WILL FOREVER BE CONSTANTLY HITTING TAGLIMITS FOR THIS FIC!!! THIS FIC IS MY LIFE!!!

THE MANEATER CHAPTER SEVEN: ecstasy

masterlist

divider credits to roseraris

The smell of alcohol is soaked into her. Her skin is left sticky, and the cold chill in the late summer air raises bumps over her skin. She presses her palms into her eye sockets, and cries. The exhaustion and humiliation make her cry harder, and the crying makes her more exhausted and humiliated.

She’s not surprised when she hears the sound of a milk crate being dragged along the pavement. She lifts her head to watch Iwaizumi pull it up next to hers, plopping right down by her side. He looks as tired as she feels. For a second, he doesn’t say anything, just looks at her, and she looks back at him with wet, watering eyes.

“Actually,” he starts, leaning back against the brick wall behind him and crossing his arms over his chest, “that makeup smudged all over your face makes you look more goth than before.”

“Oh my fucking god,” she whines, dropping her head forward back into her palms.

Iwaizumi still stares at her. She can feel it. “That guy’s a fucking dick,” he says to her. “You don’t deserve to be treated like that.”

This prompts her to shoot right back up, making her head a little dizzy as she does so. “Yeah, I fucking know. He was the worst. And, for the record, he cheated on me, like, all over the place and then went around telling everyone that I was controlling. Like, sorry dickhead, but if not wanting you to cheat on me with every fucking person you meet makes me controlling, then sure, guess I’m controlling.”

“Then why’d you date ‘im?” Iwaizumi asks, not looking away from her.

She scoffs. “Don’t victim blame, asshole. People will put up with a lot when they wanna be cared about.”

It feels too vulnerable as soon as she says it. Iwaizumi turns his head away. “Yeah.”

There’s a beat of silence. She straightens out. “And he ruined my fucking leather,” she says, tugging at the tight and wildly uncomfortable corset. It digs into her skin and it’s gotten a million times worse now that it’s soaked in gin. “This was the first time I got to wear this too and I looked really fucking good in it and now it’s ruined because he’s a piece of shit.”

Iwaizumi makes a noise with his throat that she can’t decipher. “Want me to kick his ass until he gives you the money to replace it?”

“He can’t afford it,” she grumbles, and then looks over at Iwaizumi. “Got a cig?”

He reaches around into his back pocket and pulls out a slightly flattened carton. She watches in anticipation as he pulls one out and hands it to her. She places it between her lips, ready to fish for her lighter, but before she can make a move for it, Iwaizumi’s got his in front of her face. It casts shadows over half of his face. She looks down at his hands and notices his knuckles are red and raw. He holds the lighter to the tip of her cigarette until it’s cherried.

She inhales, and he retracts the light. “Thanks,” she says on the exhale.

Her muscles feel worn. She leans back up against the brick wall, slumped and eyes closed. She doesn’t want to cry again but she feels like she might if she’s out there for much longer. The cigarette helps. Not much, but it’s better than nothing.

“Hey,” Iwaizumi says, and it gets het attention. She rolls her head to the side to face him, finding that he’s already looking right at her. “Let me take you home.”

There’s a lump in her throat. She swallows. His eyes are always greener than she remembers them being. “You know, you kind of remind me of someone.”

Iwaizumi smiles. “Yeah?”

She nods. “Hannibal Lecter. Your vibes are uncanny.”

He rolls his eyes and stands, but his grin doesn’t drop. “Let’s go, brat.”

“”Let me take you home,’ sounds like you’re gonna skin me alive,” she grumbles.

She’s adjusting to stand when Iwaizumi lightly grips firmly, not tightly, around her bicep and pulls her to her feet. She stumbles for a moment before steadying. “I was gonna let you ride on the back of my board, but now you’re walking.”

“Oh man, you mean I missed my chance to get on that stallion? Life ruined.”

“You piss me off,” Iwaizumi says, turning his head away from her. She still sees him smile.

She figures he can probably see hers as well. “Feeling’s mutual, protein powder.”

Iwaizumi’s not nervous. That would be ridiculous. That would imply that there’s something to be nervous over. That there’s a chance for a good outcome and a bad outcome, and he has no personal stake in the matter. He’s just doing a favor for a friend. He doesn’t care.

He knocks on the door, and takes a steadying breath. He’s not nervous.

For a while, no one answers, and he starts to consider the possibility that he might have to walk away, coffee and croissant still in hand. It’s actually just when he’s about to step away that he hears the fiddling of a lock, and the door swings open.

Her roommates on the other side. Akaashi, he recollects. The one Oikawa rants about. Akaashi takes in the sight of him with a slight, subtle flinch. “Hello?”

Iwaizumi shifts on his feet. “She home?” he questions, vaguely aware of how rude he’s coming across. Not that it’s nerves, or anything.

“She’s here, just knocked out on the couch,” Akaashi says, and steps back, opening the door wider.

He peers into their apartment, and sees her there, splayed out on their couch with her head on Shimizu’s lap and her arms wrapped around her thigh like she’s holding onto a teddy bear. The both of them are deep in sleep, and the light snores that he has to lean into hear definitely come from her.

Iwaizumi maybe looks a little bit too long, but he’s never seen her like that before. Face free of powders and glitters, eyes washed free of black smudging and her hair pulled messily out of her face. For a second, he smiles, and then catches himself. He steps back, and hands the offerings to Akaashi. “Well, these are for her. From Oikawa.”

Akaashi raises an eyebrow. “Oikawa?”

He nods. “Yeah, just doin’ him a favor, dropping them off.”

“Sure,” Akaashi says, taking the coffee and the little brown pastry bag. “Totally makes sense, man.”

Iwaizumi nods, “Yeah, well, later then, man.”

For whatever reason, when Iwaizumi leaves, he feels really, really fucking stupid.

extras!

konoha won the scummy ex boyfriend poll by one vote

he and yn dated for a year on and off and it was a nightmare toxic relationship and everyone was so relieved when they finally broke up

oikawa saw akaashi's subtweets about him and they have a little beef over yn going (which one of you said they were having a twink off WHO SAID THAT it was so funny i wanna give you an award)

iwaizumi may or may not have thrown a punch after he kicked konoha out (he definitely did)

akaashi ate that fucking croissant the second he closed the door and iwaizumi left

omi was in the shower 'washing off everyone's gross sweat'

have a yn-kiyoko-omi-akaashi apartment floor plan!

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