#btw i hope you know my all lowercase reblogs are my more favorite ones i have to be more serious to convey how much i love it

[mollyrolls]

spoiler below

sir, iwayn from maneater just kissed

THE MANEATER CHAPTER ELEVEN: claws

masterlist

divider credits to roseraris

She’s going to be late for work.

Her hair is half-done, and she’s got nothing on but Iwaizumi’s shirt and her Naked Wolfe boots as she frantically rushes through her living room, wondering where the fuck her phone could have gone. She figures that it should be buzzing loud enough for her to find it. It’s the time of day when Iwaizumi usually starts bothering her about where she is.

She’s ripping up the couch cushions trying to find it when the sound of a throat clearing makes her stand upright, spine straight and gaze snapped in the direction of the noise.

It’s Kiyoko, standing there with a purse over her shoulder, dressed in all black for her shift. “You’re going to be late,” she speaks plainly, a frown slightly tugging at the corner of her lips.

“You just don’t want me to do anything with my life because you just want me to stay stuck here at your level!”

She swallows. There’s a humidity in the apartment that makes the leather of her boots stick uncomfortably to her skin. “Can’t find my phone.”

‘What the fuck is that supposed to mean? You think I’m beneath you? That I’m not worthy enough for you?”

Baby hairs escape from Kiyoko’s ponytail. “You left it in the bathroom. It’s been vibrating on the sink nonstop.”

“Just because you’re satisfied working at some crappy club for the rest of your life doesn’t mean I am, and you’re being a shitty friend for expecting that of me.”

“Oh,” she says, and nods. “Checks out.”

“Fine! Then fucking quit! Do whatever you want. If your apartment and your job and your friends are so fucking shitty then go get new ones!”

Kiyoko narrows her eyes at her, taking a slight step forward. “Who’s shirt is that?”

Her hands find the hem of it, and she tugs it down to get a better look at it. “Oh, um, one of Omi’s old ones, I think.”

It’s a lie. They both know it’s a lie. But Kiyoko just nods, and turns on her heel. “Alright. Well, see you at work.”

“Yeah. See you.”

They have a nightly routine, at this point. Iwaizumi wanders into the back alley, and rolls his eyes at the sight of her, like he wasn’t hoping she would already be there. She groans at the sight of him, already smoking, and says something fresh and in a tone of faux annoyance. Tonight it’s, “Oh my god, can’t I just get fifteen minutes of peace without you ruining it?”

“Payback for having to listen to your set all night.” Iwaizumi pulls up the milk crate and sits next to her. Every night, he pulls it up a little closer than the one before. Tonight, his shoulder brushes up against hers. “Can I bum a cig?” he asks, slightly nudging her arm with his elbow.  

She brings the end of the cigarette to her lips and curls them around it. Iwaizumi watches and does not try to censor his thoughts. “You’re such a fucking leach,” she says, words laced with smoke. She takes the one from between her lips and hands it over to him.

He feels smug when he takes it, and her lip gloss stain feels sticky when he inhales. “Thanks, brat.”

Now she turns her head, resting her chin on her hand as she watches him smoke. Iwaizumi can feel her stare on the side of his face. It feels close. She feels close, body warmth radiating off of her and seeping through his clothes. He doesn’t dare turn his head. “The fuck are you looking at?” he questions, gently, with no edge to his tone.

“You,” she answers earnestly, and offers no further explanation.

His heart leaps into his throat, and he turns to look at her. Her face is just as close as he thought, and he can see the slight smudge in black ink off the corner of her eye. She blinks, and he can swear he can feel a small gust of air from the eyelashes glued to her lids. “Why are you looking at me?”

She smirks slightly. “What? I can’t look at you now?”

Iwaizumi inhales and tilts his head slightly to avoid blowing smoke in her face. As he looks back down at her, he lifts the cigarette to her lips, and she opens her mouth without being told to. He places it between her lips and waits for her to inhale; he pulls it away again once she does. “Nah,” he says, voice low, “look at whatever you want.”  

The side of her thigh presses against his. “So, are you gonna do it? Or do I have to do fucking everyth-“

Iwaizumi cuts her off, hand pressed against the line of her jaw, and lips crashing against hers. He kisses her hard, nothing held back, and she returns it by knotting her fingers in the roots of his hair. Iwaizumi’s hands trail from her jaw, down her side, until they eventually find her hips. He’s not sure if he pulls her or if she leaps or if it’s both, but she finds herself straddling his lap, pressing as much of herself against him as she can.

His fingers press into the skin of her hips, and her skirt rides up her thighs. Iwaizumi feels lightheaded. She pulls away, and is slightly breathless as she looks down at him. “Wanna go back to my place?”

extras!

massive thank you to @mollyrolls for helping me out and brainstorming and coming up with solutions to problems i had written myself into lol. their help was a big influence in this chapter <3

i did not proofread this bc im BUSY

iwa got the 'yes sir' text and it was over for him

like he was done after that completely cooked

yn absolutely knew what she was doing

kiyoko knows that's not omi's shirt because she's never seen it before and omi owns like six shirts and also she absolutely texted him about it after she left

things are weird for them! very weird!

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