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loki-cees-all · 6 months ago

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Keeping Score {TVA!Loki x Female Reader One-Shot}

Cee's Loki Fic Masterlist / AO3 Link

Pairing : TVA!Loki x Female Reader

Summary : You’re stressed, you’re exhausted, you’re sick and tired of absolutely everything right now. Loki decides that the best way to distract you from all of that is to make you count how many times he makes you come.

W/c : 2.2k words

Content / Warnings : Soft Dom!Loki, established relationship, smut, fingering.

Author's Note : Welp. Since I’ve been just a massive ball of stress and nerves lately, I thought I’d write something about Loki’s lap to help calm me down. (Spoilers: It just made me riled up in a very different way. Oops!) Enjoy! <3

18+ Only - Minors DNI

⊱ ─ ༓ ── ⋅•⋅⊰ ─ ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ∙ ⋅ ─ ⊱⋅•⋅ ── ༓ ─ ⊰

“How many times is that now, darling?”

Loki’s question sounded like it came from dozens of miles away even though he’d murmured it directly against the shell of your ear. His words sloshed in your head as it lolled back against his broad shoulder, and your shaky breath caught in your throat. Sweat coated your brow, your heart thundered in your chest. Your muscles clenched uncontrollably, and your toes felt like they’d been curled into a permanent and formally unnatural position. Your thighs, spread wide and dangling over each armrest of his tufted wingback chair, trembled and shook helplessly.

Behind you, Loki’s presence was even, firm, solid. You could feel the steady thrum of his heart against your back, his restrained breath ghosting against your neck in a constant rhythm. Despite the cool aura he normally projected, you knew he was just as excited as you were - from the way his thighs tensed underneath yours, to how his rock-hard cock throbbed against your bare ass from underneath his trousers. His voice was low and hoarse, but still measured, still somewhat under his control - but he was absolutely loving this little game.

“Well, pet? Are you going to answer me or not?”

A soft little moan was all you could manage to respond with. You desperately wanted to answer, but right now, you simply lacked the brainpower to give a coherent one. Divine and relentless pleasure still radiated up and down your spine with each featherlight stroke of his fingers against your soaked cunt; he hadn’t stopped touching you since the last one, and you felt like you were liquefying in his lap; maintaining a solid form in the presence of all this ecstasy was just too much effort.

And that was exactly what you had asked for tonight, wasn’t it?

Specifically, what you had said was that you didn’t want to be capable of thinking for a while. You wanted to be so very drunk and dumb, from both lust and pleasure, to be so thoroughly touched and explored that the stress of TVA case files and incident reports and the perpetual lies over your very own existence were nothing more than a distant memory.

Due dates, timelines, the anxieties of life itself, and the horrors of the massive problems the TVA currently faced - you wanted it all to mean nothing to you anymore. Just for a moment, you wanted a tiny flicker of peace inside this wretched little cosmos, and your lover was the only one who could give that to you.

Loki, of course, had then turned that request into a delightful little game: how many times could he make you come before you simply lost count of them all?

After your quick and enthusiastic agreement to this evening’s activity, you soon found yourself seated comfortably in the God of Mischief’s lap. His nimble fingers had removed your clothing in a flash, leaving you bare and exposed while he remained in his normal TVA uniform - just the way you liked it. You absolutely loved being naked while he remained clothed; for some strange reason, it reminded you that no matter the problem, that no matter how dire the circumstances seemed, Loki still had everything under control - and that made your lack of it so very comforting.

Once you were ready, he’d started off by cupping your breasts while he kissed your neck. Both thumbs brushed delicately against your quickly stiffening nipples, and you’d squirmed in his lap while your cunt clenched around nothing. Instinctively, you’d moved to squeeze your thighs together and give yourself some kind of pressure to roll against, but Loki had instantaneously put a stop to that. His large hand had gripped the inside of your thigh and separated it from the other, and you could feel his hungry eyes devouring the sight of your rapidly dripping sex from over your shoulder.

From there, his other hand snaked its way down, over your ribs and down past your belly to graze your clit. He’d moved slowly, taking his time to thoroughly tease and stimulate the area, caressing gently back and forth with just the barest hint of pressure. On the next pass through, he pressed a little bit harder, collecting your ever-growing arousal and spreading it around with his fingertips. He’d let out a groan of appreciation, so deep and so feral, that it had made you come for the first time tonight.

It wasn’t a big orgasm, but it was enough to stretch and loosen the muscles of your body, leaving you relaxed, comfortably warm and somewhat limp in his lap; a nice little warm-up climax, Loki had always called it. With a devilish grin, he’d calmed and soothed your mind until it passed, whispering sweet nothings and reassurances while you’d trembled. And once it was over, he’d repeat the process again, upping the ante with each cycle, pressing a little bit harder and moving a little bit faster, cranking the intensity of each subsequent climax higher and higher.

He’d alternate increasing the speed of his fingers, their angle, and then their depth. The filth he’d whisper as he drew each orgasm out would become even dirtier, and the praise he’d murmured afterwards would somehow be way more celestial and glorious than it had any right to be. The ambrosian tones in his voice rolled in waves, from rough to demulcent, shifting in sync with the euphoric fireworks all bursting simultaneously inside your spine, and then simmering patiently together before the next spark set them off again.

“Come on, love. Don’t tell me the game is over already…” As his lips grazed the cartilage of you ear, you let out a dazed whimper. The hand gripping your thigh slid up to your throat, and his fingers extended to tilt your chin towards him. He knew full well that the game wasn’t over yet, because your safe word was still tucked securely in its bed - and there was no way you were going to utter it now.

The blurred angles of your beautiful God danced within your heady vision. Your eyelids fluttered open and closed, trying to will his features to become fixed again so you could admire him fully. Eventually his lopsided brow slowly came into view, arched perfectly over his deep green and wandering eyes. A roguish glint had etched itself deep inside his irises, and his lips were curled in a esurient but disciplined manner. He was gorgeous and stoic, sensual and vivacious, and he could easily do this all night if you had wanted him to.

A heavy breath tumbled from your parted lips, and your answer was both murmured and dreamy. “No…no, it’s not over yet…”

“That’s good. That’s very good…” Loki hummed his approval, softly dragging his knuckles along your cheek. “But I’m still going to need a number, darling…how many times have you come undone on my fingers tonight?”

He punctuated his question with a slight increase of pressure against your clit, and you shuddered in response. The backs of your thighs pulled against the leathered armrests of his chair as you shifted in his lap, and your fingers clenched tighter around the straps of his sword holster. Your hips writhed uncontrollably with the circular motions of his fingers, and you moaned out something incoherent, hoping that would suffice for the time being.

“Such a silly little girl…” Loki teased with a chuckle. His fingers shifted tempo, adding speed along with the increased pressure. “We both know that was nonsense…”

“Jesus Christ, I - ” Your gasp was cut off by another moan, and your lower half arched itself off from his lap to roll harder against his touch. Another orgasm was building quickly, and you craved it like the sea needed the sky.

“Close, but that’s not quite my name, nor what I asked for…” Loki tsked. His words oozed elegance and charm, in direct contrast to the image of you spread wide in his chair, your slickened and swollen cunt still begging for even more stimulation somehow.

“Oh, fuck - Loki!” you moaned as he changed tactics and slipped two fingers inside you. This time your eyes shot open to watch as he buried them, and then slowly drew them out. Arousal coated the digits, sparkling in the dim candlelight of your private quarters, and then he was calmly pushing them back in again. You clenched hard around his fingers and felt yourself growing even more impossibly wet as they curled and effortlessly reached all the right places to make the next orgasm that much more powerful.

“Answer me, girl,” he groaned, becoming more breathless himself as you became more excited. He pressed his lips against your ear and buried his nose against your scalp. “Give me the number…”

“Six! Five! Seventeen!” you cried out, not caring if any of them were the right answer. Your heartbeat was out of control, your lungs were heaving for oxygen as gasoline filled your veins. Every bit of you was tightened, clenched, stiff and sticky. His fingers were relentless, pushing you to your absolute limits, and you wanted to exist in this blissful state for the rest of your life.

“Oh, you’re such a dirty, filthy girl. You love this, don’t you?” He slipped another finger inside you. Three of them now stroked you from the inside, over and over again, while his thumb continued massaging your clit on the outside. “You love coming, you love being a mess, you love being so lecherous, don’t you?”

Your eyes rolled back into your head as his other hand curled around your throat again. The words TVA no longer had any meaning to you. You forgot your own name, you forgot his name. There was nothing left inside your brain, and the pleasure was so intense that you couldn’t even remember why you’d wanted this in the first place. “Once! Twice! 87 times!”

Loki laughed, and suddenly withdrew his fingers to delicately caress your clit with them instead. “Come now, pet. We both know those aren’t the right answers…”

The lack of pressure was jarring, and your eyes widened in shock. You let out the most pathetic of whimpers, slamming your hand on top of his in a desperate plea for his previous pace to resume, but it was pointless. He wouldn’t acquiesce.

“What if I don’t let you come again until you answer correctly, hmm? Would you like that?”

You whimpered again, squirming and shifting to get the pressure back. You turned, nuzzling your face against his without caring about how pathetic you looked. “Please? Please let me come again?”

Loki groaned, and pulled you back down to sitting. Your full weight was back on his legs and hips, and his cock was somehow even harder than it had even been before. “Fine. I’ll give you a hint, love…Not once, not twice, not three times…”

His breath was heady and hot against your lips. He was dying to make you come again, just as much as you were ready to explode. That was what separated him from everyone else, and just one of the things that had made you forever devoted to this God of Chaos.

“Four…” you whispered correctly. “Four times…”

As soon as the last syllable was uttered, Loki was crushing his lips against yours. His fingers slipped back inside you, and he kissed and fucked you until your fifth orgasm reached its precipice. A bolt of lightning shot up your spine, burning and convulsing every muscle you had as you came again, harder than any other time before.

In your mind, the seas parted and the clouds disappeared. An aurora unleashed itself between the tendrils of your nerves, and your entire body thrashed in sheer and utter pleasure. Loki held you firm as you spasmed in his lap, wrapping one arm around your waist as his fingers pumped for a few more moments, then slowly withdrew to caress you so very gently in a soothing motion.

You shivered and melted, moaning and whimpering against his lips as they moved to your cheek and then down to your neck. His heart thundered against your back, and his breath was as shaky as yours while you tried to recover. Your thighs were still shaking uncontrollably when he gently guided them off the armrests and pushed them closed.

“I love you…” you murmured dizzily as he turned you to nestle back against his chest. He was so strong and comfortable and protective like this, and he smelled like stardust and the deepest, greenest forest.

Could you actually remember what forests smelled like, or were you just dreaming that you could? It didn’t matter; they were all the same thing, after all.

“I love you too…” Loki answered softly. His lips brushed against your temple, and his secure arms wrapped tightly around you.

Loki - that was his name. That was the only thing in your head now. Deadlines and existential dread were nothing more than faint nightmares, long since forgotten. A thing of the past, a thing you’d just made up one night when your imagination got away from you.

Loki was now the only thing that mattered, the only thing worth focusing on. And that was basically what you had asked for, wasn’t it?

⊱ ── ༓ ── ⋅•⋅⊰ ── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ∙ ⋅ ── ⊱⋅•⋅ ── ༓ ── ⊰

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gallusrostromegalus · 6 months ago

Note

How does each of the main aeiwam cast react to spiders?

Ichigo: "...Why's my leg itchyyYEAUGH! DAMMIT!" *scoops spider up in piece of paper, opens window and throws it out* "OUTSIDE! SHOO! I hate it when they sneak up and on me...

Orihime: Had an intense close personal friendship with a Joro Spider that had made it's web on her apartment balcony when she was six. It's death at the end of summer was her first real experience with mortal loss, and she mourned it for weeks. She still recalls "Joro-San" fondly.

Uryuu: Secretly dreams of Spiders large enough to spin actual ropes of silk- the stuff is a marvel of chemical engineering, and would be incredibly useful to him as a Doctor or Fashion Designer. He feels like the difficulty of harvesting Spidersilk is the main thing holding back a Golden age of Humanity, and is disturbed to find out he shares ANY opinion with Mayuri Kurotsuichi.

Tatsuki: Paralyticly Phobic of spiders. Understands and appreciates their importance in the ecosystem, knows they can't hurt her and that the phobia is an irrational reflex, and even thinks some of them 'look cool as hell'. The second there's a live one in her presence, she locks up and can't move until someone removes it. (Usually Ichigo, because Orihime will just stare at it, fascinated).

Chad: Has a Pet Kitchen Spider. thought about shooing flies in it's direction, then felt bad for the flies.

Kon: Is a cat, hunts them, and will have nuanced discussions about how different spiders taste with Yuzu, the one person who will tolerate that analysis.

Keigo: Screams theatrically and jumps away and into someone's arms if they're there, but that's just how he reacts to anything that startles him.

Mizuiro: Fascinated by them, will stare at them with Orihime and tell her fun facts about Joro-Gumo Yokai and other lore, which delights her to no end.

Yoruichi: Like Kon, enjoys toying with them before eating them.

Urahara: Curled into the farthest corner, screaming, crying, throwing up, and begging Yoruichi to STOP FUCKING AROUND AND GET RID OF IT!

Rukia: *entirely genuine, with a huge spider crawling on top of her hair* "...what Spider?"

(Seireitei Squad Under The Cut)

Yamamoto: Utterly fails to notice or care. There are so many things he's seen that are so much worse, and honestly? Even when he was a young man he didn't give a shit. He slept rough delivering messages, waking up in the dirt with half a dozen bugs on him was normal.

Sasakibe: Thinks they're delightful. So many elegant designs! Such perfect sense of when to strike! Such patience! He finds out about Diving Spiders and goes Ape Shit. THEY MAKE THEIR ON SCUBA TANKS!!

Soi Fon: Spiders are cool but not as cool as wasps and hornets :)

Omaeda: Also has a Pet Kitchen Spider, but does not feel bad about shooing flies into it's web at all.

Gin: Isn't actually sure what spiders are, or if they're even real. He's seeing sixteen dimensions at once, something that minuscule gets lost in the noise. Still thinks that someone Screaming "SPIDER!" and everyone flailing around in fear or suddenly attacking the walls and furniture is a social game like "The Floor Is Lava"

Rose: Thinks they're cool right up until they're in his personal space and then they are VERY SCARY.

Izuru: Was the designated spider-wrangler for the third from the first day he transferred in, because everyone else is a huge bitch about them. he plays it cool, but he's actually creeped out by the really big ones.

Unohana: Spiders are garden Friends :) often heard verbally encouraging them to destroy her garden pests with calls of "GET HIS ASS!" coming from the Hydrangeas.

Isane: Everyone is sort of surprised how chill Isane is about dealing with spiders- even Yamada's Actually Dangerous Specimens- and she shrugs and tells them that she deals with more dangerous things every day, especially over in Pharmacology. It keeps the focus off the Bug she's actually terrified of: Butterflies.

Hanataro: Do Not Ask The Head Of Toxicology And 11th Division Pocket Medic About Spiders Unless You Are Prepared For A Seven-Hour Lecture With A Pop Quiz At The End.

Aizen: HUGE fan of Spiders. What splendid creatures- look at how carefully the spider selects the anchor points of it's web, the skillfulness with which it weaves. Such incredible patience, waiting for the lines of tension it's woven to snare it's game- though I suppose such patience is easier when the fly's capture is inevitable >:)

Shinji and Hiyori: *Screaming and flailing, hitting things at random (mostly each other) in a blind panic, because they share a braincell and that cell is TERRIFIED of spiders* "It's so fast!" "It was huge! It had to be a tarantula!" "We should burn the division down, just to be sure."

Momo: Escorted the little garden spider outside in a cup like ten minutes ago, and forgot about it because that's such a routine chore, and she was having a more important phone call at the time.

Byakuya: Rarely notices spiders, but sometimes one will scuttle across his desk and he'll stop to watch it for the seven minutes it takes to actually cross his desk with a neutral expression, before resuming whatever he was doing. It's a pleasant diversion for him, not unlike watching the koi fish swim around in the compound pond, and he resumes his duties feeling spiritually refreshed by that chance encounter with nature.

Renji: Not bothered by Spiders. VERY Bothered by his Boss's fucking peculiar-ass reaction to a spider wandering across his desk because to Renji, it looked like Byakuya had never actually seen a spider before and was staring at it with an expression that indicated his higher brain functions had ceased entirely. Is currently making plans to study "The Captain Kuchiki Spider Brain Glitch" by catching a bunch of spiders in a jar and releasing them into his office to see what happens.

Komamura: He's particularly fond of Jumping spiders, because they sing little songs while hunting that he can hear if it's really quiet. They're very cute. Gets very upset when people kill spiders or talk about killing them.

Iba: Not afraid of spiders but doesn't know what to do when they're in his way. Killed one in front of Komamura once when he was a little kid and Komamura was still his babysitter, Sajin gave him a huge and very upset lecture about respecting life in all it's forms... but did not actually teach Iba how to remove them. So every time he sees one he sorta stands there for a minute and hopes it will move, before yelling "BOSS!"

Shunsui: Does not want to admit how much Spiders freak him out. It's not fear, precisely- more of a disgust reaction. All bugs make his skin crawl and he understands how important they are, but can they do all that ecology stuff Far Away From Him, Please And Thank You?

Nanao: Like Unohana, reveres spiders as pest control. She takes it a step further, and actively collects Jumping Spider egg sacs as she finds them in the archives and tends to them over winter so when early spring comes, she can release several hundred thousand spiderlings into the archives to destroy the mites, bookworms, moth larvae and other archive pests before they can get a foothold. She usually does this while dumping out the entire terrarium and cackling manically.

Lisa: Immediately joins in on Nanao's Spider Propagation Project, much to Shunsui's horror.

Tousen: If there is a sudden shriek and burst of profanities and hexes in the ninth division, 90% chance it's because Kaname walked into a spider web again, his LEAST favorite texture in the Universe. Yes, including the curse nails. He'd keep them in his spine if it meant he'd never walk into another spiderweb.

Kensei: Often cracked open a beer while watching the evening news during his exile in the living world. Sometimes it was several beers, or something stronger if he'd had a rough day. One night, it was a bottle of Fireball as he watched the news, and felt too intoxicated to change the channel from the newshour, so he kept watching when PBS Nature came on, and damn near pissed himself laughing when he saw the Peacock Spider's Mating Dance. Full on Howling, tears streaming down his face, barely able to breathe, Pterodactyl-noises laughing. Nothing has been funnier before or since to him, so now whenever he sees a spider he starts guffawing and stop to explain WHY.

Shuuhei: Deeply confused by the fact spiders keep coming indoors. "Why are you all here?" he asks, doing a cobweb patrol with the broom before his boss gets back from the inter-division meeting. "What are you eating? Crumbs? Lint? Is it Lint you eat?"

Mashiro: Has a grasshopper-type Zanpakuto who is not a fan, so she attempts to destroy any spider she sees in solidarity. Usually misses and destroys something else.

Matsumoto: Spiders are cool, but not as cool as snakes :)

Hitsugaya: Grew up on a farm, and shares Momo's total non-reactivity to them. It's even deeper, because his constant ambient chill means spiders never climb on him if they can't help it.

Zaraki: Used to agitate Yumichika and Ikkaku by eating them. Now he agitates them by wandering off the trail during 11th Division Boot Camp or other deployments and coming back with extremely dangerous ones and handing them to Hanataro "fer yer collection". The 11th Division's Pocket Medic has explained toxicology at length to him, and now Zaraki thinks of various medicines as "Spider Pills" and "Scorpion Juice".

Yachiru: Still eats spiders. She's the sole exception to the Wrath of Komamura, because there is no malice or fear in her actions- it's perfectly natural and morally upstanding Carnivory. The rest of you are being irrational and jerks.

Ikkaku: Sometimes regrets his life choices when he sees the freak he's sworn loyalty to walk out of the trees with something venomous enough to kill half the gotei-13 with a single bite crawling over his face, then realizes that's FUCKING BADASS and is assured that he made the right choices.

Yumichika: *currently sneaking up behind Ikkaku with a fake spider on a string to affectionately terrorize him*

Mayuri: Unlike Uuryu, Mayuri isn't a Weenie, and he's making his dreams of Milkable Spiders the Size of Cattle a reality.

Nemu: Helping with that. This one is hers. She named it #47, after it's designation, Specimen Number 47.

Ukitake, *entirely genuine, with a huge spider crawling across his forehead* "...There's a spider in here?"

#Bleach #bleach fanfiction #AEIWAM #an elephant is warm and mushy #Spiders #some people are more chill than others #and some are straight up failing perception checks

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acourtofwhatthefuck · 1 year ago

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Practice On Me — Part Three — Azriel x Reader

Summary: It’s not an Illyrian party without at least one person starting a fight. Azriel is a jealous little shit. Y/N wants to put the smile right back on his face.

(I really don’t want to ruin this chapter for u but I finished writing it and all I could hear was Camilla Cabello in my head singing “I’llll be hooome for chwismois” — you’ll see why)

Word count: 6.2k

Warnings: Some fiiiilthy language. 18+, NSFW, smut, minors dni 🌶️

It’s not that you and the others are trying to take advantage of Rhysand’s mother’s absence. But having an empty property at your disposal definitely comes in handy.

Particularly on nights like these, two weeks later, when the cottage is packed full with more people than it can reasonably host. There’s drinking and conversation and faces you don’t even recognise, and someone has brought Elpys Vine, a herb grown by someone’s sketchy great uncle on the continent that’s supposed to make you hallucinate.

Judging by the empty chair that a male opposite you keeps winking at, you think it’s probably having the desired effect.

The spot next to you dips down as Azriel takes a seat at your side. He hands you a drink, and so naturally, his arm drapes around your shoulders. It’s comforting — and also a relief, to know that things are still normal after what happened on this very couch two weeks earlier. Not a slither of awkwardness.

But your eyes have most definitely been snagging on every unfamiliar female around you and wondering if one of them could be the target of Azriel’s affections. If Kaeda is here tonight, he hasn’t said so.

Part of you wants to ask, and part of you…doesn’t. For whatever reason.

“This is definitely already way out of hand.” Az comments, cocking an eyebrow as he takes in the volume of people packed into the small space. “I thought it was supposed to be a small gathering.”

“That’s what Cassian told me, too.” You say, and then curiosity gets the better of you. You try to make it seem casual as you study the various females dotted throughout the room. “Is Kaeda here?”

Azriel’s eyes find yours, and he gives a small shake of his head. “No.”

“You didn’t invite her?”

“I didn’t invite anyone. That was Cassian’s job.”

You heave a very dramatic sigh indeed. Sometimes, Azriel is his own worst enemy.

Not that you’ve minded helping him so far — not at all. But surely there must come a point where he directs all he’s learnt at the intended person.

“I will make my move.” He tells you. “I’m just…not quite there yet. Still working on it.”

Fair enough, you suppose. Before you can say anything else, Cassian is suddenly slumping haphazardly into the space at your other side. One of Azriel’s shadows snakes out and clasps your drink before it can slosh down your front.

“Time for a game.” Cassian calls to the room, and you want to groan. Games with Cassian usually ensure chaos. “Let’s play Knife Point.”

There are enough enthusiastic responses that you know your reluctance will be wildly outnumbered. Knife Point is a game that’s used as a ruse to kiss as many people as you like — something you delighted in at fifteen, when kissing was still new to you, but you don’t feel quite the same excitement five years later. It’s pretty simple: a knife is placed in the centre of the table, and the players gather round. One-by-one, everyone takes their turns spinning the knife, and whoever the point settles on when it stops is who the spinner must kiss.

Basic, really. But Cassian loves kissing people.

You and Azriel share a look — one that says he’s no more excited for this than you are. And then you both crack a grin and settle into your seats, because you’ll always go along with Cassian’s shenanigans, even if you complain about them first.

“It seems only fair that the future high lord starts us off,” Cassian says, and slams a dagger down on the coffee table with unguarded enthusiasm. He grins at Rhys, who’s sat in an adjacent armchair with a curvy redhead on his lap. “Rhysand, darling — would you do the honours?”

Rhys flutters thick, dark lashes and gently removes the female from his thigh. “It would be my pleasure.”

The room watches closely as he spins the knife in a sleek way that has a few gazes heating. It spins fast, and then slows, slows, before landing on a female to his right whose name you don’t know. He angles himself towards her, and the smile he gives her most definitely has her falling head-over-heels in love, and the heated kiss he lands on her mouth most definitely has her falling head-over-heels in lust. She looks genuinely heartbroken when it comes to an end.

But then it’s her turn, and she’s kissing Jonan, an ex-fling of yours, and then Jonan is kissing Cassian, and then Cass is spinning the dagger and it’s pointing at you.

Your friend bellows a comical shriek of delight and jumps up so enthusiastically that this time, Az’s shadows can’t stop your drink from spilling. Cass is utterly oblivious as he turns to you with a wicked grin, holding his arms out.

“Come here, sweetpea.” He uses the nickname he’s called you for as long as you can remember. “Come make all my heated dreams come true.”

You snort, handing Az what remains of your drink and pushing to your feet. You intend to deliver a quick peck to Cassian’s lips, but so typically, he clasps your face with enough force to lift you from the floor, and his mouth lands heavily on yours.

Immediately, a chorus of jeers and laughs ring out around the circle. Cassian’s huge hand cups your jaw, and he kisses you like you’ve seen him kiss countless males and females before. It doesn’t matter that you’re his friend, an old comfort blanket — he gives you the exact same energy he gives them. He doesn’t do things by halves.

And the kiss certainly isn’t bad, if not a little strange. You can think of far worse people to be doing this with right now.

It goes on a little longer than necessary, and when you feel it deepen, feel Cassian’s tongue probing yours, you break away. Make a dramatic show of grimacing and wiping your mouth with the back of your hand.

“Damn.” Jonan snorts. “You didn’t kiss me like that, Cass.”

Cass smirks. “You’re not half as pretty, nor half as arousing.”

They squabble, and the game continues, and you slump back down by Azriel’s side, already tuning out the noise. You turn to retrieve your drink, only to find Az draining the rest of it.

“Hey.” You knock your arm against his. “I was going to finish that.”

He stares forward, not even looking at you as he quietly replies, “I figured you were too busy.”

Your face creases into a frown as you take in the stiff, rigid set of his body. He’s damn near hunched in that corner of the couch, and it can’t be comfortable with how his wings are a little squished, but it seems almost as if…as if he’s trying to put some space between you.

You try not to think too much about it as you return your attention to the game once more. The knife continues spinning and people continue kissing, and only once does the blade point in Azriel’s direction, to which he tersely announces he was never playing to begin with.

It’s that which makes you realise the reason behind his mood going south. He’s only just started exploring the art of kissing with you, only just started becoming comfortable with it. The last thing he’ll want to do is make a whole song and dance about it and kiss a near stranger in front of a group of people.

Combine that with his natural aversion to huge gatherings, and it makes sense, now, why he’s clutching your empty cup so tightly, and the muscle in his jaw keeps moving.

When everyone else is distracted, you place a hand on his arm.

“Why don’t we go for a walk?” You suggest. “Get some fresh air.”

But he barely looks at you. Just keeps staring forward. He shoots a quick, hard look in Cassian’s direction and rips it away just as fast.

“I’m fine here.” He says. “You knock yourself out.”

✧: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

You know Azriel well enough to know when his social tolerance is at an all-time-low, and being at a party is the worst possible thing for him.

He goes more and more into himself, his brooding, and he seems to emanate an invisible signal that warns people to stay far, far away. Not even the drunken, giggling females approach him. The Shadowsinger is in a dangerous mood, and it won’t take much to set him off.

He doesn’t seem all that interested in talking to you, either, given that all your attempts have been met with quiet, one-worded responses. And so, figuring he’ll come to you when he feels like it, you wander off to get yourself another drink, and you sink into the throes of the party.

At some point, you feel a warm touch on your forearm, and you turn to find Jonan there. He’s a damn nice male — for an Illyrian. A little cocky, maybe, but kind. Not the sexist brute that so many of them turn out to be. You and he had been two eighteen-year-olds, excited about exploring each other’s bodies and sex in general. Realistically, it was never going to go anywhere, but you ended things in good spirits, and you’ve very casually fallen into each other’s beds on a few occasions since.

Judging by the way his dark eyes drink you in, you’re sure he’s hoping that tonight will end in the same manner.

“I haven’t seen you in a while.” You say as you pull back from the hug he gives you.

His eyes seem to glimmer with flirtation. “Perhaps you haven’t been looking hard enough.”

You snort. “Or perhaps you don’t train close enough for us to run into each other all that often.”

That’s definitely it. The Illyrian males are sorted into different training groups based on a whole host of different things. Unsurprisingly, Rhys, Cassian and Azriel are in the most skilled group. Jonan is in a different one.

And it’s Jonan’s group, you know, that has just got back from a harsh training exercise that takes them away for weeks at a time. Which is the most likely cause of you having not seen him in passing.

Azriel’s group will be the next to go on one last training exercise before everyone breaks for the winter solstice. They’ll be setting off any day now, as soon as they’re called forth by their general. A few weeks without your three closest friends is a thought you don’t want to linger on.

“How was the training exercise?” You ask, genuinely interested. There will always be a part of you that wishes that was you, out there, putting your skills to use.

But you’re female. And females stay behind.

“Fucking brutal.” Jonan answers. “The weather is bad this year, so we were out there a week longer than we were supposed to be. My sleep pattern is still fucked.”

“Sounds like you need to relax.”

“Oh, I do.” His eyes trail down your body. “Perhaps you can help me with that.”

You open your mouth, not entirely sure what you mean to reply. All you know is that you’re not jumping at the offer of easy, mindless sex like you have done in the past.

But before you can respond, Jonan is stumbling forward, into you. Thanks to a huge, muscled body knocking into him.

He whips around to face Azriel, spilled drink forgotten in his hand. You didn’t even see Az‘s approach.

“Watch it, Shadowsinger.” Jonan narrows his eyes at him. “You almost knocked Y/N over.”

Azriel stops and eyes Jonan with clear dismissal. A rare, antagonising expression sits on his flawless features. “Are you talking to me?”

“Do you see any other shadowy fucks around here?”

One side of Azriel’s lips twitch up in satisfaction. So rarely does he waste his time looking for a fight, but he’s looking for one now — and has found one.

“What I see,” he says, and steps closer to Jonan, towering over him considerably, “is an irritating little cunt who’s in my way. Move.”

But Jonan doesn’t move. Like a typical Illyrian, he salivates at the prospect of a punch-up. He looks a little pathetic as he tries to square up against Az.

“Now, now, Azriel,” he sneers. “That’s no way to talk about Y/N, is it?”

And the mention of your name in Jonan’s mouth is all it takes for Azriel to launch himself at him. There’s not nearly enough room for this, and as he grabs Jonan by the front of his tunic and slams him against the wall, all sorts of surrounding objects go flying.

At once, everyone is turning to watch the confrontation. And so fucking typically, of all the people in the room, neither Rhysand nor Cassian are anywhere to be found.

Which means you’re dealing with this alone. Because nobody else will care to break this up.

You curse quietly and jump in just as Jonan goes to land a hit on Azriel’s jaw. He falters as you throw yourself between them as best as you can at the angle. It’s not great, but you manage to wedge an arm between them.

“Hey. Enough.” You snap, and it feels like all the times you’ve reprimanded the camp younglings. “Cut this out right now.”

Jonan scowls. And actually says, “He started it.”

It makes you never want to have sex with him again. Never have you been drier between your thighs.

“I don’t give a shit. It stops now.” You stare between them seriously, and then you’re firmly grasping Azriel’s arm. “Az, we’re leaving. Now.”

There’s a moment’s hesitation, like Azriel really, really does not want to give up the fight. But then he’s letting go of Jonan’s shirt, more or less dropping him to the floor.

“Fine by me.” Az fucking smirks at the male. “Enjoy the rest of your night.”

You don’t spare Jonan a single further look as Azriel grabs your hand and pulls you through the thralls of people, all disappointed at a fight not coming to fruition. But their attention is quickly stolen by something else, and you don’t look back as you and Az step out into the cold.

Az begins to walk as though the past minute never even happened. You’re quick to catch up to him and grab hold of his forearm.

“Hey.” Your breath clouds in front of your face in the cold night air. “What was that?”

Azriel shrugs. “It was nothing. He is nothing.”

“You—”

“It’s fucking freezing, Y/N. Can we just go?”

You stare back at him. The urge to pry more, demand an explanation, is a strong one. But it is freezing, and in this frame of mind, you’re not certain he’ll tell you anything, anyway. He’s in a strange mood — probably in anticipation of the upcoming training exercise. Perhaps unwisely, you decide to drop it.

“Go where?” You concede. The biting cold makes the decision to do so much easier.

“Dormitories. You can stay with me tonight.”

Dormitories is a very generous term for the limited accommodation that is offered to each training legion. Most of it sits unused, due to the majority of Illyrians preferring the harsh, toughening dwellings of tents and crumbling old houses in all extreme weathers. But a certain amount of small, draughty rooms are available, and Az tends to make use of his when the cottage begins to feel too crowded, and he needs a break from living on top of Rhys and Cass.

There’s no hammering droves of snow tonight, and you’ve patched up your boots enough to hopefully last you a little longer. A broad expanse of stars glimmers above you, making it a rather pleasant night for a stroll — or it would be, if not for the unavoidable presence of Azriel’s bad mood.

Your attempts at conversation are met with non-committal responses, and by the time you’re kicking through the peeling wooden door to the accommodation, you’re fucking exasperated.

Azriel can be very, very insufferable when he thinks himself into a foul mood.

You could go home, back to your father’s house — you certainly consider it as you follow Az into his cramped dwellings, but…you don’t know. You wouldn’t like to leave him like this. To walk away without seeing him crack a little smile. In nine years of friendship, you’ve never done so before. So you shut and lock the door behind you, and resign yourself to a very silent, very tense night.

You press your back against the door, watching as Azriel perches on the edge of the bed and removes his shoes. Through the walls, you hear the distinct sound of skin slapping against skin, and the building moans of a female close to climax. This miserable building is more often used as a place for a quick fuck than it is to actually sleep in.

But Az doesn’t seem to notice as he shrugs out of his clothing, quickly slipping on a pair of low-slung cotton sleeping trousers, and sprawls out across the mattress, wings fanning around him.

You’re not sure why you don’t move, at first. Or maybe you are.

Your gaze snags on the toned muscles of Azriel’s torso, and the smattering of dark hair that maps a line from beneath his bellybutton to what sits under his trousers. You’ve seen it countless times before, and yet you can’t stop staring.

Particularly when he stretches his arms above his head, and then drags a hand down his stomach. To him, it’s a subconscious act, but to you—

You can’t stop yourself zeroing in on his hand. The very hand that touched you and bathed you in a pleasure so stunning, so splintering, that you hadn’t dared to try and replicate it yourself since. Such inexperienced fingers had coaxed such expert sensations—

“Are you coming to bed?” Azriel’s voice drags you from your thoughts.

“…Right.” You clear your throat. “Yeah.”

“There’s a shirt for you in the armoire.”

You shuck off your clothes, digging out the tunic you often borrow from Az to sleep in. He barely spares you a glance, his eyes glued to the ceiling. You can’t help heaving a sigh as you pad over and slip beneath the blanket. The faelights wink out, and for a while, you both lie there in silence. It’s you who eventually breaks it.

“Are you going to tell me what that fight with Jonan was about?”

Az slings an arm above his head. “You were there. I’d hardly call it a fight.”

“No, I’d call it an overreaction.”

“Jonan’s an arrogant bastard and everyone knows it.”

He brooks no room for argument. And he’s not exactly wrong, either. You know Jonan gets himself into more brawls than the average person. But Az wasn’t exactly justified tonight.

But before you can think of a response, he says, quietly, “Sorry — if I ruined your night.”

You pause. And then roll onto your side, staring at his outline through the darkness. “You didn’t. I didn’t want to go to the party, anyway.”

There’s a tiny, soft snort. “Me neither.” He agrees. “But going along with Cassian’s ideas is the story of our lives.”

“That it is.”

Az says no more, does no more. And you…you hate it. Because it’s not simply that he’s sleepy and dozing off beside you. He’s just as awake as you are. And his mood is still heavy and tense.

You can’t stand it.

It’s perhaps against your better judgement that you inch closer to him, your mind already made up about how you might lift his spirits. It’s dangerous, because your arrangement has simply been about helping him, and he’s always been the instigator, knowing what he needs and when he needs it. Which he most certainly isn’t doing now.

But you would be helping him…in a way. And you can’t lie and say that it hasn’t bothered you, over the past two weeks, that you didn’t get to return the pleasure he gave you.

It would still be a learning experience. That’s what you tell yourself as you press against his side and drape your arm over his stomach.

Az pauses, but this isn’t unusual for the pair of you. You’ve cuddled like this plenty of times over the years — with your other friends, too. And so there’s no hesitation as he slides an arm beneath you and tugs you closer, his wing tucking you in.

You rest your head on his chest, and you murmur, “I don’t want you to go on the training exercise.”

You really, really don’t.

You always miss your friends when they’re sent away, but it seems…heavier, somehow, this time. Like there’s more between you to miss.

That…that is not a good thought to have.

You banish it from your mind rather than dwelling on it.

Az’s hand presses against your back. “I’ll be home in time for Solstice.”

You hear the unspoken promise in that statement; the one Azriel knows you need to hear. Because this isn’t just about simply missing his company.

Solstice is…hard for you, to say the least. Being holed up with your father, him drinking from the crack of dawn until he collapses in a chair by the fire. His unpredictable, volatile moods and tendency to pick at you over every tiny thing. It’s the time of year you rely on your friends the most, and you spend the entire day waiting for your father to pass out so you can sneak away and forget him for a while.

Azriel’s bare skin is so pleasantly warm, lulling you back to the present. You shelve your worries for the time being, press your cheek against his pectoral, and breathe in his frost-and-cedar scent. His wing drapes over you, cocooning the two of you in your own little world.

And there’s no better place than inside that world to ease some of Azriel’s tension. Bring the smile back to his lips.

“…Az?” You whisper, slowly gliding a hand over his stomach.

His body tenses beneath you. There’s a pause before he answers, “Yes?”

“What are you thinking about?”

“Nothing…” He clears his throat. “Nothing much. What are you thinking about?”

The question is an opening for you to stop this right here. You could return a similar, half-assed response, remove your hand from his stomach and go to sleep. Like any sensible, reasonable friend would do.

Or you could be honest.

You could tell Azriel that your close proximity has you thinking all about the magic of his fingers, the sensations he wrought from you. You could admit that it wouldn’t be the first time you’ve thought about it since it happened — not at all. You could tell him that you’re still a little stunned, because besides yourself, nobody has ever made you come that hard.

You could tell him how badly you want — need — to return the favour.

And never one to back down from a situation, however daunting, you do exactly that.

“I’m thinking…” you murmur, and your finger begins to just slightly trace lines over his stomach. Your touch is so light, and yet you feel his body react beneath you. “I’m thinking that there’s more I’d like to teach you about touching.”

A little breath escapes him. “Oh?”

“Mhm.” That finger of yours gets a little bolder, making bigger sweeps over his skin and dancing close to his waistband. “But this time, I want to touch you. You made me feel so good, Azriel. I want to make you feel good as well.”

“You…you don’t have to do that.”

Gods, you know you don’t. You know this situation has never been about him expecting anything from you. Just a friend helping a friend out. No big deal.

But who says you can’t both get something out of it?

“I know I don’t have to.” You answer him. Your hand stops its movements, and you stare up at him, your eyes accustomed enough to the dark to make out certain features. “And I won’t, if you don’t want me to. Do you want me to?”

A tiny, tiny little pause.

And then Azriel rasps, “Yes.”

It’s a guttural, gasping sound, and it’s so delicious that you want to swallow it.

You don’t hesitate in moving your hand up to his face. You angle it towards you. Slant your lips over his.

And you smile. There’s a mulled wine that Azriel far prefers drinking over the piss-poor ale that most males around here favour, and it’s not the first time you’ve tasted it on him. It’s pleasing to explore — the spices and berries and damp heat of his mouth a combination that coaxes you to slide your tongue between his lips.

Az seems pretty well comfortable with his kissing technique, now. He leans into it, not at all tentative, his tongue meeting the strokes of yours. And then he suddenly breaks away.

“I like—this.” He pants heavily, breath fanning your face. “I like doing this.”

The words make something glow inside you, because that is precisely what you want. This isn’t just about teaching him the technicalities of physical touch. It’s about liberating him from the barriers he’s built in his mind, and showing him how much he can enjoy it.

And your friend deserves that.

You plan to really show him.

You slide your hand over his hip and haul him closer, eliminating the tiny little gap that existed between your bodies. An act that makes him suck in a breath.

“If I do anything at all that you don’t like, you need to tell me, Az.” You stare at him. “Okay?”

He nods.

“I need your words. Swear it.”

“Gods, Y/N, I swear it.”

He kisses you this time.

He really does like doing that.

The kiss is hot and hungry, loitering on the precipice of being frenzied. Azriel’s hand slides to the back of your neck, his fingers kneading the skin there. A dim faelight blinks back to life, bathing the two of you in enough warm light to see each other. His tongue pushes past the seam of your lips.

But you don’t give him the chance to stroke at your mouth. There are a million other places you can think of kissing; a million other places you’re just as desperate to get your mouth on.

Your lips glide along Azriel’s jaw with the lightness of a breeze. He goes still, appearing to wait with bated breath to see what you’ll do next, and how it will feel. He’s never been kissed here before.

Nor at his neck. You kiss the skin gently, at first, and smile to yourself at the little breath that hitches in Az’s throat. Something told you he’d be amenable to neck kisses.

Indeed, he is, as you attach your lips to the column of his throat and suck.

It’s a soft ungh, this time, that escapes him. A noise of both surprise and delight. Perhaps he never before considered the sensitivity of the neck, how enjoyable it might be to be kissed there. It’s one of many things you want to be the one to teach him.

You suck and lave at the area until his stomach is caving beneath your hand, and then you’re moving on, dragging your mouth over his collarbone. Down to his pectoral.

His skin is hot but its taste is cold — cold, like his scent. Frost and snow, icy starlight, the whipping winds and thrill of flying. Gods, it’s all delicious, and you close your mouth over his nipple, desperate to taste more.

Azriel starts, his back arching just a little. Your eyes flit up to his as your tongue teases the peaked flesh.

“This okay?” You check, allowing your teeth to graze just a little.

“Yes.” Az breathes. “I never considered that that might feel good for—for a male, too.”

You smile, repeating the action, fastening your lips totally around the nipple and giving a gentle suck. It earns you another quiet sound in response.

But you don’t want quiet. You want to make your friend feel so good that he can’t keep a lid on those sounds. The muscles of his stomach are quivering under your palm, and you decide it’s unfair to make him wait any longer.

So as your tongue circles his nipple, you slip your fingers beneath the waistband of his trousers.

You’re careful, even though you know the sharp intake of breath is a positive one. Nobody’s hands but his own have ever ventured here. You want him to be aware of every touch, every feeling.

Your fingers skate over the dusting of fine, coarse hair. And lower. And then your hand is on his cock.

The mere weight of your touch drags a breathless little noise from Azriel’s throat. And you pause.

Azriel is big, even by Illyrian standards.

From touch alone, you can feel its length, its thickness. You’re not entirely sure you can fit him in your hand, let alone anywhere else.

But gods are you willing to try.

You take your time exploring every detail, starting at the smooth, swollen head — already leaking a droplet of moisture —and circling its rim with your finger. Azriel’s hips jerk, and you smile, removing your mouth from his nipple to kiss further down,

“Still doing okay?” You ask, coasting your lips over his ribs. The pads of your fingers stroke over the head of his cock slowly, casually.

But there is absolutely nothing casual about Az’s voice as he grounds out, “I’m doing great.”

“Want me to keep going—”

“Please.” The word escapes his mouth before you can even finish the sentence. “Please.”

You smile, and you scoot lower down his body, giving yourself the perfect angle to explore the muscles of his abdomen with your mouth, your tongue.

It allows you to feel the exact moment you glide your palm down the length of Azriel’s cock, following the long, jagged vein.

Gods, it feels like it goes on forever.

The skin is velvety, smoothing over every vein, every bump and ridge. You explore it all, as much for your enjoyment as for his. You can’t imagine what it must be like to feel it sliding in and out of you, hitting a spot so deep inside you that you’d have to bite the mattress—

A thought you should not be having. It isn’t going that far.

And there’s a twinge of disappointment at that fact. But now isn’t the time for disappointment.

You trace the length of Azriel’s cock all the way down to his balls, and he’s trembling beneath you. You tug at his trousers, whisper, “Can I pull these down?”

It might be silly to ask, given that your hand is already well beneath the fabric. But you want him to have a choice in everything.

So when he gives a firm nod and lifts his hips for you, you tug the cotton trousers down, peeling them easily from his hips.

Azriel’s cock springs up. And it…it might just be the most perfect cock you’ve ever seen.

You damn near moan at the sight of it.

But before the sound can escape you, you smother it by pressing your lips to Azriel’s stomach. You kiss the skin, lap at it, graze your teeth over it. And your hand returns to his hardened length.

Finally — fucking finally — you wrap your hand around him.

Azriel makes a gasping sound at your touch, his hips canting up into your hand. He’s so responsive to your touch that you have to clench your thighs together to ignore your own arousal. This is about him. Entirely about him.

It’s about him as you slowly begin to pump his shaft, peppering kisses down and down until you’re at his hip. It’s about him as you squeeze gently and hear the hitching of his breath.

“So responsive,” you murmur, pressing a kiss to his hip.

“Is that—gods—” He hisses between his teeth as you pump a little faster, “—is that a good thing?”

“Very good, Az. I want to know that you’re enjoying it.”

“I am. Fuck, Y/N, I am.”

“Good.” Another kiss lands on his skin. “You’re doing so good for me.”

The praise drags another noise from the depths of his throat — the loudest he’s made so far. You don’t know whether he’s simply gaining in confidence, or whether he’s losing control. Maybe both. Hopefully both.

And you think you might lose control, too. Watch with rapt fascination as the head of his cock leaks, and it’s swelling, thickening in your hand, and you know he’s not going to last much longer.

You really want to taste him before he falls off the edge.

“Holy gods,” Azriel pants, his teeth biting into his lower lip. “Y/N, I don’t think I’m gonna last.”

“Don’t fight it.” You lick your lips. “Can I put my mouth on you?”

The question makes him fucking groan, and he chokes out an affirmative response, his cock rutting into your hand. You know he’s close, and you want him to finish. Preferably on your tongue.

And when you slide your mouth onto his cock, you know that’s going to happen.

You hollow your cheeks, sucking him into your mouth as much as you can.

Azriel shouts, his head falling back, eyes screwed shut. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

You suck on him, tongue tracing the length of the vein that’s beginning to throb. He doesn’t seem to be aware of the way he slides his hands into your hair, his hips rolling.

“Y/N,” he pants, your name languid and slurred on his tongue, “m’sofuckingclose.”

You pull your mouth off of him long enough to say, “Look at me. Watch me while you come.”

And then you’re sucking him again, your hand wrapped around the base of his length. You pump and lick him and bob your head in time to Az’s hips canting against you, and you think the sounds he’s making may just be the most beautiful ones you’ve ever heard.

And he watches you so closely, his brow furrowed, his lips parted, his chest heaving. Your gaze collides with his, and you’re hollowing your cheeks and giving a particularly harsh suck.

“Oh, gods, Y/N, fuck!”

Azriel spills into your mouth, shot after shot coating your tongue. You take it all, swallowing greedily, savouring the saltiness and the hint of something else that is just Azriel. It seems endless, and so do his groans, his constant string of curses, the jerking of his hips and the trembles wracking through his entire body.

You damn well suck him dry. Not a drop is spared.

As you finally pull him out of your mouth, wipe your lips with the back of your hand and glimpse his shaking, sated form, you know you’re committing the sight to memory. For when this is all over.

He’s…he’s a vision. Head still tipped back. Stomach and chest still heavily rising and falling. Pleasure still pinching his face. His hands are fisted tightly in the bedsheets.

You leave him to come down from his high. He’s still panting a little when his head lolls forward, and his eyes meet yours.

“That was—” His voice cracks a little. “God’s, Y/N, I don’t have words.”

“It’s okay.” You press a gentle kiss to his stomach, tucking his sensitive length back into his trousers. “Words aren’t necessary. You did so well.”

His arms are suddenly around you, tugging you up and against him, your body slanted slightly over his. All the earlier tension from the night is gone, and it’s just you and him, your love and friendship, your unbreakable bond.

Az holds you tightly, burying into your hair. And you think that this was maybe more than just…you returning a favour. You think this might have been a soul-shifting moment for him. Something that released him from the invisible bindings that have held him back for so long.

And it saddens you a little to think that that might be the end of it. That you’ve done all you can do.

But still, you’re honoured to have helped him this far. To have guided him through it.

“Thank you.” He whispers, dropping a kiss onto the top of your head. He’s still trembling, and he tucks himself in tight as if he’s worried he might break. “Just…thank you.”

You don’t quite know what to say. It feels a little…final, and you don’t like that.

So you simply nestle into his side, and you repeat your earlier truth, your voice a whisper. “I don’t want you to go on the training exercise.”

Because you know you’ll miss him more than you ever have before. It’s going to be far harder this time.

What, exactly, that means…you can’t bear to think of it right now.

And there’s no need to as Az holds you tightly, kisses your head again.

“I’ll be there with you on Solstice.” He says. “I promise.”

azriel tags: @hanasakr @positivewitch @ruler-of-hades @brekkershadowsinger @nightscourtt @imperfect0angel @luna-1-3-5 @hyacinthoideshispanica @lucyysthings @lahoete @littlemoonash @blacksstarrynight @azriels-mate123 @ghostly-poetic @frieddesigninspiringquotesslime @a-frog-with-a-laptop @illyriansimp @morrie-rose @passingthroughfireandshadow @illyrian-dreamer @azrielsbabyg @96jnie @mich0731 @mulansaucey @truthtellerfanclub @acourtofbooksandmagic @insightsonmylife @basicbittywitty @curbside-cyanide @acourtofchaosandmess @123345566 @starrynights-frostbites @eos-princess @thesillyyogourt @ona-raising-07-l @acediahamartia @dontfollowmepleaseitsannoying @polli05927 @asdfjklbooks @azriel-luvr @amysangel @humanpersonlasttimeichecked @wildflowernightmere @audie-writes @aaronwarnerswifereal @starxqt @lulufairbank @laurzwrites @livelaughlovenestaarcheron @girlwith-thecinder-blockgarden

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oceansblvds · 11 months ago

Text

petals ; coriolanus snow

pairing ; coriolanus snow x reader

words ; 1.7k

about ; "The harshness and brazen demeanor that enveloped him when you were around seemed to melt away with time, this certain activity that the two of you engaged in became more of a delightful reprieve than something to do to release tension."

warning(s) ; smut, fingering, p in v sex, not edited, just a short blurb kinda?

authors note ; hello! this is me putting myself out there as a snow writer bc im obsessed with tom blyth. so anyways. please feel free to request fics or headcanons or blurbs! i hope u enjoy :)

Life in the Capital was nothing but lavish for you.

With your family’s status, extravagant balls were somewhat a staple in your life, along with all the beautiful shoes that you wore as you walked your way into the academy, or the five star meals you were allowed to eat every night. You didn’t know how to be poor, it simply wasn’t in your blood to have anything less than what your life offered you. And that was incredibly obvious for the way that you held yourself in the presence of others. Having been groomed by your mother and father to be the perfect heir to their fortune, they didn’t expect anything less than you. You were beautiful, you were intelligent, and you knew how to control a situation and a conversation as if it was the back of your hand.

And that simply aggravated him.

He wasn’t sure when it had really started, this loathing for you. Perhaps it was when you purposely had him suspected of cheating on a test when you two were in your first year of the Academy, or perhaps it was the fact that you knew that he hadn’t cheated, you were simply intimidated by his intelligence. Wherever you stood academically, Coriolanus was always on your heels, just behind you clawing at your back to get ahead of you in anything. And sometimes he did manage to do better than you, and that was when he felt the most happy around you. When you were an absolute mess, a stupid look on your face as you tried to come up with an excuse as to why you didn’t do as well as him. Oh, that was where he was happiest. But he hated you, he loathed you. At least that’s what he told himself in the midst of his obsessive fixations about you, how he would sit alone in his bed at night in his run down home and think about the fact that you were probably eating your second meal of the night and you were going to sleep in silk sheets that got changed every single week.

And that simply aggravated you.

How he always assumed that the only reason why you were as intelligent as you were was because of your family. You didn’t know that he was actually secretly poor, but regardless of it, the Snow's wealth had never reached the high peak that yours did in the past. That much was obvious, you could see it in the way that he dressed himself that he was lesser in status. And you took every opportunity to remind him of it, every single breath that was spent around him was an insult, a jab, trying your best to get into his head. And he did much of the same. You two hated each other, it had always been that way and it would always stay that way.

That was, until the two of you had been paired up for a project together. Something about how to better raise attention for the Hunger Games, how to make them more enjoyable. You two had been at your house when you prepared for it together, the slight arrogance in your heart not even noticing the way that he had completely dodged all your questions about working at his place. It had gotten late, and despite the normal amount of bickering between the two of you, the bickering turned into a crude form of flirting. He said that your mouth could be used for such better things rather than to insult him the way that you did, and you were desperate to prove to him wrong. You wouldn’t fall for the flirtations of Coriolanus Snow, you were so sure of it. But soon enough, his lips were on yours and your clothes were on the expensive carpet of your room and you two had your limbs tangled in the silk sheets. A month passed, and like clockwork, the two of you would end up with each other with your clothes off. It didn’t matter the reason or the place, it always happened.

He pushed you into the cold, almost sterile lab table, muttering something under his breath about how he only had a few minutes before he needed to go to lunch. You laughed, the sound getting cut off by his lips placing themselves on your own, like they always did. His kisses were bruising, like he was trying to prove something, and maybe he was. The harshness and brazen demeanor that enveloped him when you were around seemed to melt away with time, this certain activity that the two of you engaged in became more of a delightful reprieve than something to do to release tension. You paid no mind to it.

“Then you better make those few minutes worth it,” You whispered, taking note of the footsteps that you could hear from outside the door. This wasn’t the first time that you had snuck around in the University, but every time it did fill you with a sense of urgency to get things started lest the two of you be caught.

Coriolanus let out a chuckle. “I always do.” His lips pressed to the skin of your throat, teeth grazing against your pulse point before sucking on it loosely, enough to make a mark for only a moment.

Cheeky. You thought to yourself, your hands finding refuge in his blonde hair, certain tufts of it retaining the curliness that you had known them to have during your time at the Academy. You pulled him closer, ever so closer, like you didn’t want to let him go. His hands helped to lift you up onto the lab table, your legs opening and his body slotting in between them, a perfect practiced dance. The University uniform was much more relaxed than the Academy’s was, a low cut black skirt making for easy access during these moments in between classes and lunch. His hips grinded against yours for only a moment, a gasp escaping your lips that was captured by another searing hot kiss, enough to know that he was telling you to be quiet. He continued to kiss you as his hand came down under your skirt, fingertips ghosting against your inner thighs before reaching where you wanted him most.

He was met with a wet, sticky mess, an after effect of the fact that the two of you hadn’t fucked in over a week. Despite all of his brain power wanting to tease you for it, he found himself keeping this as a silent victory, the pad of his thumb coming in contact with your clit, slipping one finger in and curling it. You arched your back forward only slightly, already conveying the message that you wanted him inside you already. “Patience,” He whispered.

You whined. He was the one who wanted to go to lunch anyways, and now he was stringing you along? You had half a mind to fight back, but the words died in your throat as he added a second finger, slipping in almost effortlessly. He continued to pump them in and out at a languid pace, his left hand holding your waist so that you couldn’t move. He was keeping the rhythm, not you. All the while his thumb kept rubbing against your clit, making you a squirming mess in his hands like putty.

“Coriolanus,” You breathed. “Come on, please.”

He hummed in response, acting as if he didn’t hear you. But he did, because soon enough he was withdrawing his fingers, hands working to free himself from his neatly pressed pants, his cock springing free in a matter of seconds. You wrapped your hands around his neck, his face coming into the crook of your own as he guided himself towards your entrance, the tip of his cock grazing as if to tease, before sheathing itself in. Once he bottomed out, he already started a fast rhythm, giving you little to no time to adjust. but you were so needy you didn’t care, not one bit because he was making you feel so good that you wished for this moment to last forever. and you were already so wet and willing, Coriolanus couldn’t wait a second longer.

If he was tired from staying up all night to finish homework and studies, he didn’t even show it. Coriolanus fucked into you with such a frenzy that it was almost animalistic, which made you wonder how much energy this man possibly had. What you didn’t know was it was your moans what were spurring him on, your moans that kept him going. And you loved it so much that you couldn’t think straight. all you could do was try and keep yourself still, words stringing together into barely put together sentences of oh fuck yes and that feels so good. It was a moment of such pure bliss that you didn’t even feel yourself start to clench around him, noticing it finally when you felt every inch of him scrape against your willing walls, bringing you closer to that cliff into a sea of pleasure that only he could give you. What finally made you break was the groans that he was making, which were hot and heavy and like heaven to your ears that you knew you would be playing on repeat before you went to sleep tonight.

His hand slipped between your legs, pressing up against your swollen clit and that was it. You were sent into a state of pure, fucked out bliss as you came around him, your moans being muffled by the shirt he was wearing, your mouth pressed against it to try and stifle all your noises in the moment. With a few more demanding thrusts, Coriolanus was spilling himself inside of you, a groan of contentment falling from his lips as his head dropped to your shoulder. Your legs were still wrapped around him, shaking from the change of pace, relishing in the moment that the two of you were sharing together. You barely had any time to refocus yourself before he was pulling out, a few remnants of his cum dripping out of you that you saved by pushing your underwear back into place.

“Lunch better still be in the cafeteria,” He spoke, zipping up his pants and latching his belt. “If it’s not, you’re buying dinner tonight.”

You cocked your head to the side. “Dinner?” Usually you two would never go out together. But before he answered, Coriolanus had already left the room.

#coriolanus snow #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus x you #tom blyth #tbosas #coriolanus snow smut #the hunger games #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow x you #president snow

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aluciahaz · 8 months ago

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Omfggg ur writing is SO unbelievably good i love it sm 😭🙏🙏

I got kind of a prompt for a sub!vox x gn (maybe afab) reader ✨ Okay so what if, since we all know vox is OBVIOUSLY a bratty bottom, the reader fucks the brattiness out of him? And he goes from trying to be a dom, to resistant bottom, to bratty bottom, to just begging to come with all his life, maybe even crying cuz the reader won’t let him

TYSM!!!! im glad you think my writing’s good ❤️ALSO FINALLY A VOX REQ AGHH

i have like 50094949 drafts for like all of the other stuff in my inbox but i just have to write this vox fic first ok im self indulgent i apologize 😭

—vox x gn!reader

—includes : sub!vox, dom!reader, light bondage, edging

vox is so obvious.

he clearly has a thing for control. a need, a desire. it was practically his core personality trait. yet, he’s most certainly not made to wield it.

sure, he can try and sweet talk you, saying sultry things and bragging about his power in order to get you to feel below his level. but you know how frail that persona is. a single slip up, and it would all come crashing down into deafening static.

which, was almost impressively easy to do.

his claw-like fingers runs up your neck, one of them stopping at your cheek as he smirked. if he wasn’t careful, he could fuck up and draw blood. he was tip-toeing the small line here.

a small line that if he crossed, you’d switch up this silly little game immediately, taking the control of the show and making him the contestant.

live only for you.

but, you entertain his farce of dominance, a smile playing on your lips as you see what he has in store…if he had anything, that is.

“you’ve been waiting for me all day, haven’t you?” he asks, clearly rhetorical as he caresses your cheek gently, his voice steady as he speaks. he leads you down to the bed with teeth raking your neck as he crawls over you. there’s something fun about watching him try and fluster you, to get you to say the things he wants. but you were no people pleaser.

“perhaps. unfortunately i can’t say the same for you,” you respond, your smile forming into more of a smirk at the ends of your lips as your hands snake around his delicate waist, tightening around it like a corset.

you can already see the hesitation in his eyes, the brief moment of surprise at your sudden grasp. it was too easy to surprise this man. it’s a wonder he hasn’t exploded yet.

“what do you mean by that?” he asks, his eyebrows furrowing in both nervousness and curiosity, almost like he didn’t want to know. the fingers on your cheek seem to barely just get too rough as he looked at you.

“don’t act like i didn’t hear you in the office this morning, moaning my name like some prayer,” you mock, your knee slotting between his legs with ease. vox keels over at the sudden feeling, a sharp gasp getting punched out of his system with little effort.

“impatient.”

“what’s the big deal? am i not allowed to jerk off anymore?” he complains, bringing himself back up to his hand and knees over you as he glares with indignation.

“i told you to wait.”

“and i don’t remember needing to!” vox snarled, the grasp on your face tightening until you saw him pull it away, a droplet of blood adorning his finger.

simply unacceptable.

instantly, with a loud yelp of complaint and confusion, he hits the mattress with a thud, cursing in annoyance as he looks up at you. his face, once filled with irritation, shifted into one of almost astonished fear as he gazed upon your expression, cold and unforgiving.

“i’ll make you remember.”

his screen flickers before going back to normal, his face scrunched up in anger as he spat out his unwise words.

“i’d like to see you try.”

so, try you did.

his hands were cuffed with plush handcuffs to the bed-frame—you know he wouldn’t be able to handle real ones—and of course since he was never good with self-control, he had a cock ring on as a ‘treat’.

you’re delighted by how much of a fight he puts up though. considering how fragile his ego is, you were sure that he’d melt into your hands the moment you bound him to the bed.

“this is your plan?” vox rolled his eyes, watching you pour lubricant on your fingers with an unimpressed look. “not very impressive. you’ll need more—ngh! shit! give a guy some warning—!”

“beggars can’t be choosers.”

“i don’t fucking beg—!”

“you will.”

there was no mercy from that point forth. one finger after the other, shocks of electricity would course through his veins, mouth agape as your quick hand inside kept making him feel sparks of pleasure through his entire body.

“let me—cum! ass—zz—hole!” he shouted, tugging at the handcuffs to no avail. he wanted to touch himself so bad, yet you were adamant.

“if you ask nicely, maybe,” you tell him, circling your fingers before pressing deep onto that electric spot again, making him cry out in frustration and enjoyment.

all he could do was shoot you a disgusted look before yelling once more, kicking the blanket underneath him in exasperation. his anguish crackled through his veins like a current, trying to fight the urge to just submit.

but it was all too much. he was weak, even if he convinces all of hell that he’s not, he wouldn’t be able to fool you. the bucks of your fingers were replaced with the movement of your hips, making him wail for more.

an hour had passed, and his indignant claims of “i don’t feel anything!” or “you’ll never get me to beg!” shifted into more pleasant glitching screams of “don’t stop!” and “please, more!”

finally, he was using his manners.

“let me cum—ple—zz—se! i c-can’t—!” vox cried out as you quicken the pace, thrashing underneath you with his legs now wrapped around your waist, holding for dear life as you drive into him.

“i—hic—mm! ‘m s—zz—sorry! ‘msorry-AH! sorry!” his back curves off the bed as he squirms, crying in earnest now. tears fell his face with broken pixels blinking in and out underneath, his screen cutting at random points to an error warning from the overstimulation.

“pathetic,” you spit out, your hands digging into his hips as you practically manhandled the man, making him move once he lost all the energy to match your movements. “you listen to me. you do what i say, and you don’t talk back.”

you hear him shriek desperately as you grab his cock, red and weeping as you overwhelm him with pleasure, but never letting him over the edge.

“do you understand? you’re mine.”

you run your finger underneath his tip, and you see him glitch out into an expression you truly loved.

his screen was tear stained and his were graphics broken, yet it was clear enough to see the hypnotizing hearts that pulsated in his eyes as he yelled in defeat, small whimpers leaving his ruined throat as he babbled on and on.

“yours! your—yours! ngh—! please! pl—let me cum! plea—zz—oh, FUCK!”

his whole body trembles from need like electricity burned his skin. his legs fall from your waist, too weak to hold them around you anymore, yet you catch them, pushing the underside of his thighs until he was folded in half.

“cum for me then.”

instantly, vox does as you say as you slip the cock ring off of him, his wails loud enough to shake the room as he finds his release. his screen completely blanks out for a second as a shock flitters around his wrists, frying the cuffs and making them break into two before slumping back down to the bed.

you can’t even scold him for letting his powers go rampant before he pulls you over him, wrapping his arms around you as he sniffles into your ear.

“thank you—hic—thank…thank…”

this big baby. you sigh, rubbing your hands on his sides gently as you kiss his cheek. “yeah, yeah. just remember this the next time you think about acting out, okay?” you said quietly, feeling him nod into your shoulder as he starts to slowly relax.

but as per usual, he apparently forgets what you taught him in the next week.

fortunately, you’re a patient teacher. and you’ll remind him again and again about the lessons he foolishly dismisses.

sorry that this is shit 💀 i tried my best but the writing juices arent flowing this week😭 hopefully this weekend i wont have writer’s block and will blast through all yall’s reqs!! trust me, im working on them <3

tags: @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @drlucichen @mvskedxrtist

#hazbin hotel #dom reader #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel dom reader #sub hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel vox #hazbin vox #bottom vox #sub vox

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abbysdruidess · 1 year ago

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you ever see those tiktoks of ppl making to-go meals for their wives working at hospitals? i wanna do that for abby so badly 🥺 (i've seen some hcs of her being an orthopaedic surgeon and I think thats real af)

thank you for this anon<3 I was kind of in a writers block so this helped s a lot-send me more asks about my babygirl, my delightful wife.

l̳u̳n̳c̳h̳ ̳o̳f̳ ̳c̳h̳a̳m̳p̳i̳o̳n̳s̳ | modern au smut

wc: 1.3k (my longest!!)

tags: fluff, smut, domesticity, reader gets head for cooking for her wife(not that she wasn't getting it anyway), Abby eats it the whole damn thing on the kitchen counter

a/n: this is in the form of headcanons with a smut drabble in the end-lmk what you guys think<33

❦ I feel like in a modern au Abs would definitely choose a field that requires a lot of hard work(cause in the game also she overworked herself), so she's either a doctor or a construction worker(;)). I feel like she wouldn't want to choose to be a neurosurgeon like her father, bc as much as she admires his work, she doesn't want to be compared to him and she grew up with it, she wants something different. So her going into orthopaedics seems pretty reasonable.

❦ As for the lunch thing, I could totally see you making her lil lunches<3 She is careful about what she eats cause she wants maintain her muscled appearance, so she doesn't really go for the cafeteria food. Therefore, you make a habit of cooking food for the wife™️ every day. I imagine you getting one of these cute bento boxes and cook her some chicken, rice and salad the night before and set it up all cute<3

❦She'd always love it when you cook her food from your culture/country of origin also🥺because baby loved everything about you and wants to feel closer to you any chance she gets. In my country there's a lot of emphasis on fresh, unprocessed food so I imagine you growing a little garden outside your kitchen with fruits and vegetables, the works.

❦ Don't forget about dessert also-cooking a big tray of something like brownies or a batch of cookies on Sunday nights and put in on her lunch box with a note that goes like "finish your vegetables before you devour dessert!" or "eat lunch first, dear<3" . Bonus points if you kiss the note and get lipstick all over it.

❦ Maybe a coworker of hers notices one day(probably Manny cause he's the only one able to confront her about it) and goes up to her with a shit eating grin while she's eating it like "Damn doc, maybe that wife of yours can cook me up a lunch or too like yours sometime. She forgot to draw a heart on your brownies though." And normally if it was someone else she'd be pretty pissed off, because HOW DARE THEY mock the lunch her amazing, breathtaking wife worked so hard to make. But it's Manny so she knows he's just fucking around. SO Abby's like "Oh shut up Manny. You're just wish you had a girl who wants to make you lunch every day."

❦And truthfully she's extremely grateful for it, it's one of those things that reminds her why she married you, you care for her so much and cooking for her shows you look after her in one of the most vital, intimate ways possible. In the end of the week, once she comes home from work and sees you cleaning dishes in the sink, she walks up to you, leaving her little lunch box on the counter and wraps her big, beefy arms around you, while she whispers in your ear.

"I didn't thank you for lunch this week. I loved the cookies a lot.", and you can feel her breath slightly tickling your ear, the pads of her fingers toying with the hem of your shirt.

"It's alright Abs, I like making you food. You need to stay fit, big girl.", you respond, while you turn around and run your hands down her biceps.

"Hmm, thank you so much for caring about my health babe, or maybe you just like that your wife is packing such heavy guns under her shirt, huh?" she teases. You can't deny though, you love her figure. You can feel her hands on your hips as she tenderly lifts you on the counter, and you sigh happily.

"Yes Abby" you roll your eyes. "I'm soo thankful I have such a strong wife. It is quite beneficial at times.". Your hands ride up her shirt, cupping her firm, silken breasts. She exhales all wobbly, you know how sensitive her breasts are. But you know your little game won't last long.

She doesn't respond, just leans her face into yours so your noses bump and smiles. She quickly makes light work of your shirt, tossing it on the floor and goes for the button in your jeans next, as you help her by raising your hips off the counter. In one flawless motion, she has removed both your jeans and underwear, tossing them off with your shirt. Once the bare skin of your ass makes contact with the marble of the counter you shiver, and Abby brings her girthy palms to rest under your buttocks, warming up the skin there and slightly groping it.

"Lemme thank you for lunch. You are always so good to me. My pretty, little wife". She raises one of her hands and gently runs her pointer finger where your folds part, making you gasp. Your hands reach to her behind and cup her firm ass. "Alright." you whisper into her ear, as your eyes roll in the back of your head.

She then kisses a line from your jaw to your belly button, leaving sloppy, open mouth kisses where the drool from her mouth remains visible on your skin. You could only wish it would imprint on it, immortalising Abby's passionate mouth loving on your body. You shudder as you feel her delicately kissing your pussy, rubbing her tongue on your feminine lips as if she was making out with them. Her tongue teases the sensitive flesh, as the nerves in the most sensitive part of your body are abused by this wonderful, wonderful woman. You let out small, staccato moans, and your hands reach the flesh of your breasts, cupping them and toying with them deliciously. Abby continues the barrage on your cunt, licking up your clit as the room is filled with the sloppy sounds of sopping flesh.

You sit there, helpless but to take it, as you feel the coil inside you tightening up from the lovely tongue of your wife. You suddenly feels as though a band has snapped, and you are overcome with heavenly, internal bliss as your orgasm washes over you like a wave. Abby guides you through it, leaving soft kissing on your cunt and whispering "That's it baby, come like a good girl". Once it stops, you can feel her rising up to kiss you, her tongue rubbing yours in small circles as she lets you taste your salty tang.

"Mmm" you let out a soft giggle. "I'm so grateful I have such a caring attentive wife.", and she makes you gasp as she her fingers come up to your sensitive folds, dipping her hands into your hole and spreading your juices all over your inner thighs. You let out soft moans at the overstimulation but allow her to continue the assault on your cunt nonetheless, as she thumbs you clit gently, watching it twitch in between your legs.

"Damn right you are, baby. Wanna take this to the bedroom?" She leans into you and leaves a kiss on your ear lobe. "I'm not through with you yet." you don't reply just yet, because you know she still wants to have a go at you, and she will no matter what. You grumble a small yes at her as she picks you up bridal style and moves you to the bedroom, kicking your discarded clothes out of her way.

What could she say? Abby lives to please you, and you live to please her. And both of you are thankful for having each other to help whenever, whether that is with lunch and everything the other person needs.

whoaah, who wrote that🤔anyways, lmk what you guys think of it and ofc send me more asks abt Abby<33

#abby anderson x reader #abby anderson x y/n #abby anderson x you #abby the last of us #abby x fem!reader #abby anderson x female reader #abby tlou #abby anderson smut #abby anderson fluff #abby x reader #abby anderson tlou2 #abby anderson headcanons

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rippedlovelines · 4 months ago

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the merits of the twinyards learning to show their love for each other in slow stilted actions r a lot. for me. to me. little things. aaron buying andrew his favorite sweets because he remembers his picky eating tendencies; andrew throwing a blanket over aaron passed out in the living room after pulling an all-nighter. opening up more during their sessions w bee, angry accusations n cold statements melting into talking abt hurts n what shaped them growing up which becomes even conversation n learning abt each other more ( to bee’s not so small delight.)

the glares n perpetual scowls aaron once wore in andrew presence turn into smth more knowing n relaxed. he thinks one day he’ll be able to forgive andrew for tilda’s death; knowing the reasons behind it now, how andrew did it for his sake. (when he tells andrew that he thought he was going to die, during the days he was locked in that bathroom, his voice is raw. andrew’s face shutters. then, he says in what is possibly the closest thing to regret aaron has ever heard from andrew, “If I could make what you experienced during that time less painful, I would.” n really what’s done is done n there’s no going back, but aaron needed some sort of closure, smth, anything ! so he turns away n tries not to shake from all the emotions of what he’s feeling. andrew sits there n waits for him to return to normal.) andrew begins to make eye contact w aaron, he stops looking thru him—choosing to acknowledge his existence, instead. he sees how aaron is making an effort, clumsily attempting to prove that he isn’t letting andrew go, in spite of everything. (“ I’m not going anywhere. I hate you, but I’m still not going anywhere.” aaron says defiantly during one session where andrew said smth abt aaron going on his merry way after graduation. it shocks andrew. he stills suddenly n it’s v hard for him to look away from aaron’s blazing eyes. “Do what you like.” andrew replies stiffly. it’s acceptance n permission wrapped up in one.)

they learn how to mend the fragments of their broken past so they can both move forward. aaron releasing his resentment of andrew slowly but surely. andrew allowing himself to think of aaron as more than someone who will disappear one day, someone permanent in his life. they talk to each other !!! they meet up to do things—in complete silence sometimes, with small comments here n there in other times. after graduation, andrew goes to play on the east coast while aaron does med school elsewhere. it’s a big change. it’s difficult, often times. aaron will look next to himself with words on the tip of his tongue, then realize andrew is not around. andrew will look behind him as he traverses the streets of nyc, hand outstretched as tho to hold onto smth, a shirt perhaps, forgetting that aaron is not there.

But!!!

the two of them call each other once a year,month, week— the occurrences gradually becoming more n more frequent. 3 years pass by. andrew is in town for a game. afterwards, he meets up w aaron for a drink. it’s quiet. not uncomfortable. they take each other in n note how separation n time away has made the other different. aaron is in a good mood , hair shaved close down, face full, n nothing like the raggedy n hollowed boy andrew met years ago. aaron in turn observes how andrew’s eyes r half-lidded w smth one would call happiness if it were anyone else, but it’s js content for andrew; his arms tattooed beneath his armbands, n a looseness to his shoulders that aaron could not have ever believed andrew to posses once upon a time. after some small talk n a small congratulations from aaron for andrew’s team win, andrew slips a piece of paper out of his jacket pocket n shoves it at aaron, face blank. it’s a new team contract. it’s in the same city as aaron’s med school :) aaron decidedly does not smile, but sources say his lips quirked up a bit. they order cheesecake. everything is fine. they r brothers. they walk out together.

#is it obvious how mentally ill they make me ……..#the twinyards reconciling properly is smth so special n dear to me #i love them ur honor 🫶#andrew will deny taking the offer bcs it happened to be close to aaron but neil knows better lol.#katelyn cheering on aaron from the side n she’ll eventually have her own confrontation w andrew abt aaron n stuff n they make it work n #andrew gets used to her !!!!#he doesn’t apologize bcs that isn’t smth he would do but they move forward !#on aaron’s part neil becomes less annoying haha #twinyards #andrew minyard #aaron minyard #aftg #they keep contact w nicky too 🫶#musing

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wemalyri · 3 months ago

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what are enhypen members like in a relationship? heeseung ver.

pairing: idols!enhypen × fem!reader

w/c: 1,8k

warnings: relationship development, petnames, kisses, physical touch, smut under cut

a/n: I feel like this one is a bit messy. I just wanted to speak out. it's just my opinion and made for entertainment! you can agree or disagree, that's fine. if you liked it, likes and reports are welcomed. also let me know if I should do this with other members too.

heeseung jay jake sunghoon sunoo jungwon niki

the first meeting

So, first of all, let's be honest. Have you seen how awkward and embarrassed Heeseung looks around girls? Even Jay in the interview said that Heeseung is actually really shy around females, but he treats everyone nicely. So when you first meet, don't expect him to talk a lot. He would act politely, nodding sometimes as you talk, but not more. He might like you, though. The way you speak, the way you look, the way you laugh. He would be quietly impressed, but wouldn’t think a lot about that, because he meets so many beautiful fans and not only every day. He would be just fascinated and that’s it.

However, as you start to bump into each other more often, he would start thinking “Oh, her outfit today was so nice” or “Her hair looked really cute today”. Maybe he would start to open a little bit more, like when you meet in the elevator he would greet you with a smile and make small talk about weather or something casual. Heeseung would ask, "Which floor are you going to?" just to press the elevator button instead of you.

friendship

When he realizes that you are close friends with Jake, it doesn’t go unnoticed. Sometimes he starts seeing you in the studio, in the practice room, in their dorm after all... Moreover, you get along with other members, which predisposes Heeseung’s trust to you. He’s starting to feel more relaxed around you, getting used to it. And that’s when you become friends with Heeseung too.

He finds out you two have a lot in common, it fascinates him. The way you’re both hardworking, charismatic, kind, gentle and funny. You show your emotions a bit more than him, but it only delights him. You two would play video games together and even though you love it, you kinda suck at games sometimes. He wouldn’t laugh at you, but praise after each game “You did well, though”. During the game, when you make a good move with your character, Heeseung would exclaim “Wow that was good”. And even though you lose a lot, you are never upset with that and always praise Heeseung with a gentle smile. And there is something in your actions that made Heeseung want to give in so you could win just to see your smile and the way you try to make it up for him, so he wouldn’t be upset.

But it’s not just about games. Everything about you just feels right like you were made for each other. Your playful comments, your interests, your reactions. The way you look, the way you talk, the way you rub your eyes, feeling sleepy during a movie. And this is when he realizes that maybe he likes you a bit a lot.

He would understand that immediately, Heeseung knows himself. But he wouldn’t bring it up to you, scared of what to do. Normally, he would put himself together and confess to you no matter what, but right now he’s an idol… And it makes everything 100x more difficult. What if you like him back? Should you two date? But what if someone finds out? Wait, what if you don’t even like him…

With these thoughts Heeseung came up to Jake, your best friend. Actually, he wasn’t the one who brought it up first. It was Jake, who noticed Heeseung's behavior around you.

“Do you like Y/n by the way?” Jake would ask just to make sure, but Heeseung’s red ears, nervous giggle and head in love would tell everything without words.

his confession

He doesn’t care anymore what’s gonna happen. He just feels that it would be honest to confess to you, to let you know his feelings.

He would ask you for a walk and make surprise just for you. Imagine, it’s dark outside and Heeseung leads you to the Han river (sounds scary lol). He closes your eyes with his hands as you come near the place that he prepared. Heeseung slowly guides you, being careful so you wouldn’t stumble. When his steps stop, his hands move away from your face and you see a picnic place that Heeseung organized for you.

So this is where he confesses to you. He’s hella nervous, his voice is quiet.

“I don’t want my words to ruin anything, but I feel like you deserve to know my true feelings. I want to be honest with you. Y/n, I like you. Maybe even more than that. I tried to get rid of this, but that was too difficult. You don’t have to answer back, I just wanted you to know.”

When you say to him that you like him too, his smile is the brightest you’ve ever seen. You two hug each other, when he whispers “Can I be your boyfriend?

And your answer again makes him the happiest person ever.

relationship

I feel like he’s the type to be really awkward and shy at first. Like the first time you would go out somewhere to get used to each other’s presence. Even though you already were friends, now your relationship felt different and you would need time to adjust yourself. Heeseung would definitely be the sweetest guy ever, trying to show himself from the best side as your boyfriend. He would buy you flowers, win plushies in the arcade, text you even when he was at work. He would listen to you attentively, admiring you with a soft smile on his face. Also at the first time, I feel like he would be kinda awkward in the physical way around you. Like you two would hug each other when you met but nothing more. His ears would turn red and his leg would start shaking every time your hands met for a second or when your faces just closer to each other.

But it’s only for the first time. You can tell that when Heeseung gets comfortable, he gets too comfortable. He would start teasing you more, flirting more, touching you more. When he gets confident it’s really rare to see his ears red. He would flirt non-stop, getting really close to you physically. He would act like he was born to make you flustered. You can see how satisfied he looks when fans are blushing around him but if you’re his gf IT’S EVEN WORSE. And Heeseung is definitely the type of guy who would love to be affectionate around members/his friends. Flirting with you just to hear fake throw ups behind him? Oh yeah he loves that.

first kiss

I feel like Heeseung has had his first kiss already, but it doesn't make him less nervous. It's still important for him, he wants you to be comfortable enough, he wants to make it memorable.

One time you are watching a movie together, his hand wrapped around your shoulder, you cuddling. When a movie ends, no one speaks. You just look at each other, your eyes stuck on his lips. Heeseung notices this and looks at your lips too, trying to put himself together to lean closer and gaze into your eyes, “Can I?..”, his voice is a soft whisper. As soon as you nod and give your permission, he slowly leans closer, pressing his lips to yours. He doesn't move first until you really kiss him. He smiles into a kiss, answering back.

18+ UNDER CUT

first time

This bro is inexperienced, but he always tries to do his best. And always succeeds. Heeseung would be really scared to mess up in front of you. Like he's gonna read a lot about sex, watch different videos, even though he is probably not going to find out something new. He just wants to make sure there's nothing he doesn't know about.

When the right time comes, Heeseung is the most gentle and caring person in the world. He's passionate, but slow. He asks you if you are sure a lot of times before doing something. He looks at you with those gentle fascinated eyes, giving you compliments as you take your clothes off.

“You're so beautiful…” he whispers, leaning closer to you to kiss your naked chest, caressing your sides with his hands.

I feel like for the first time he would be kinda shy to talk a lot, but he would remind himself to do it. When he sees your reaction to his words, Heeseung gets more confident. With each moan that follows his movement, he would become braver and bolder.

“That's it, baby…” he murmurs, feeling you clenching around his fingers as he pulls them in and out, warming you up, “You feel so good around me”

He would let you cum before the main part as much as you want. On his fingers, on his tongue. Even though he's really hard and it's difficult to control himself, Heeseung would give you the best he can, making sure you receive enough stimulation.

“Let it go, baby. Let me taste you well” he mumbles before pulling to your pussy again, sliding his tongue inside you, his nose massaging your clit.

He would give himself off for 200%, being in the moment fully. When it comes to the main part, you have already come twice and he still hasn't even once. When you suggested a blowjob, he almost choked on the air, imagining your mouth around his cock, but didn't let you do anything.

“Not today, baby…” he said as his ears turned red. “Or you want to stop? That's okay” Heeseung asked to make sure that you didn't suggest a blowjob just as an excuse. “No, no, no. I don't want to stop” you answered, pulling him closer by the nape of his neck, “Don't stop…” you whispered and Heeseung couldn't help but smirked. “I got you, princess. I won't stop.”

I can say that when he finally slides inside you it's going to be the best feeling he's ever experienced. And it would become his favorite moment from now.

Also, I feel like he's not into aftercare when it comes to himself, but he cares about you. Like he doesn't care if he's sweaty and covered all over your cum. Heeseung is going to ask you about your feelings first, to help you clean yourself.

+ bonus

I feel like when he's used to sex with you, he's going to become wild. He just loves to make you feel good, loves to know that he can make you feel that way. He's going to find out a lot of things about himself through sex with you.

It doesn't mean that he would be rude for no reason, only if you ask him to. He's always gentle with you, but also ready to do whatever you want to make you feel good. And trust me, if you want something from him, he's gonna be the best at it. ;)

#enhypen #heeseung #heeseung×reader #lee heeseung #enhypen hard thoughts #heeseung smut #heeseung scenarios #heeseung imagines

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liillyliilly · 4 months ago

Text

Her Laughter

tsukishima kei x reader words; 9093 synopsis; They had been friends for too long. She knew too much. He knew too little.

Tsukishima was used to the attention he got from girls. It came with having an aura that practically screamed unattainable. It lured in confident women that thought they could break down his façade of seriousness. So, if he was feeling up to it, he would mess with them. Toy with their feelings before dropping them and picking up a new little game to play.

This annoyed the living hell out of y/n. Which pushed Tsukishima to continue what he did. It seemed like he got a nice rise out of seeing how pissed he could make y/n. Seeing as they were seatmates, it felt as if she was constantly trapped and suffocated by every new girl that tried to win his affections.

The pair even had to spend a large portion of their time with each other outside of school. Having her mom being extremely close friends with Mrs. Tsukishima sure messed up a large portion of the girl’s life. Yet, there was one Tsukishima family member that actually seemed to be a normal person. Akiteru. Akiteru was probably the longest crush that y/n had ever had. From the beginning of her first year at Karasuno High School, which was Akiteru’s third year, to currently as a third year practically infatuated with a university second year. But for some reason, her crush felt hollow. But she didn’t mind it so long as she still was happy when Akiteru was nice to her.

Tsukishima wasn’t oblivious to the way y/n acted around his brother, not by any means. If anything, Tsukishima was always aware of how y/n acted and felt. Whether she was happy, sad, or yes, even trying to flirt with his own brother.

“Wow! That’s so cool! But that sounds like an awful lot of work.” Y/n currently was resting her head in her hands as she pressed her elbows against the kitchen counter top, watching Akiteru making some stovetop ramen for dinner.

“No rest for the wicked huh?” Akiteru stirred the pot of noodles. His joking words causing y/n to laugh. Tsukishima was in a mood, sitting on the couch scrolling through the movie catalog. His ears finely tuned to the conversation happening nearly seven feet away from him. He was chewing on the inside of his cheek, biting down any words that threatened to bubble up from his throat.

He was the one that wanted to make y/n laugh like that, like she was lovesick and drunk on her own delight. He had managed to do that three times.

The first time was a long time ago, when they were both around eight years old.

“Kei, Kei, Kei, Ke-” Y/n was poking Tsukishima in the leg with a stick that she had found on the hike their families currently were walking on. The parents and Akiteru were walking far behind the two young kids, talking about, ‘grown up stuff’.

“What!?” He pulled off his headphones, and made a big show of turning off the music on his hand-me-down iPod from Akiteru. He actually didn’t have any music playing, and was using his headphones as a way to listen to y/n ramble about the pets she wanted to own when she got older.

“I was just wondering if you were planning on adopting a dinosaur when you get older.” Y/n kicked a rock and it fell down the cliff, bumping into a few trees, causing y/n to shudder as she imagined what would happen if she fell down from this height.

“Yes. Yes, I am.” Tsukishima folded his arms, and turned his chin up.

“But aren’t all the dinosaurs’ dead?” Y/n dropped her stick, and opted for poking him in the chest with her pointer finger.

“When I become an archeologist, I’ll have Akiteru build me a machine to revive its bones. Then I’ll adopt it. Simple as that, stupid.”

“Stupid is a bad word Kei.”

“I don’t care.” Tsukishima had lightly pushed y/n on her shoulder. When she let out a scream, he knew that he messed shit up. He was sure that if he had known the word shit as an eight-year-old, he would have used it in this situation.

In one fluid motion, Tsukishima quickly grasped onto y/n’s hand and pulled her away from the edge and into his chest. When Y/n had started laughing, that same laugh that Tsukishima swore followed him in his dreams, Tsukishima raised an eyebrow in confusion.

“Why are you laughing? You could have died y/n!” Tsukishima was still holding y/n close to him. He knew that she could probably hear his beating heart that was threatening to break his ribcage open.

“I’m laughing because you care about me Kei.” Y/n rubbed his head, effectively messing up his hair and messing up his composure. Tsukishima’s ears were red, and he was embarrassed but he was still refusing to let go of y/n, afraid that if he stopped hugging her, she would actually fall off of the cliff. And that he would lose her. As an eight-year-old, he silently promised himself that he would never, ever, lose her.

Akiteru set down the three bowls of ramen on the coffee table. He settled in on the left side of the couch. Tsukishima moved over from the right side so that he was in the middle, forcing y/n to sit on the right side, closer to him and away from Akiteru. Tsukishima prayed that his shuffling of the seating arrangement wasn’t scrutinized. When y/n opened her mouth, Tsukishima explained.

“You got the middle seat last week. It’s the best seat to watch movies. It's my turn.” Tsukishima laid back against the couch. Chewing on a bite of the noodles. Even though he was trying to outdo his brother for y/n’s attention, Tsukishima admitted that his brother made some killer ramen.

Y/n rolled her eyes and sipped on the noodle broth. When Tsukishima did the same his glasses fogged up from the heat that radiated from the soup. Akiteru's phone beeped, and when he opened and read the text he grimaced and let out a grumble.

“Sorry, I’ll have to reschedule movie night. Something came up at work. Manager needs me to cover for a flaky employee.” When Y/n shrugged, and stood up, Akiteru’s words rushed out. “No! I mean, no, L/n you should just stay. I mean, I know you were waiting all week to watch this movie, I would just hate to prolong your waiting.”

“No, it’s fine I can wait.” Y/n smiles as she reaches for her bag.

“I insist. Please, I need someone to watch Kei. I’m asking you, l/n, to please help me out here and just watch the movie.” Akiteru took her bag away and ran into the kitchen, setting the bag above the cabinets. Far from y/n’s reach. Only Tsukishima or Akiteru could reach up there. Y/n gasped and hit Akiteru in his arm.

“Akiteru!”

“Sorry, I don’t make the rules. Gotta go! Bye Kei! Have a goodnight!” Akiteru rushed out of the door and shut it with a light slam.

“Honestly, L/n, Akiteru paid for the movie. Just swallow your pride and watch it with me.” Tsukishima explained from his spot.

“Fine. I just have to use the bathroom real quick, and then we can watch it.” Y/n’s feet lightly pattered against the floor. Tsukishima let out a breath, putting a hand to his chest, sliding down the couch to slump in exhaustion. His phone buzzed, and as he read the message, he truly didn’t know if he wanted to punch or hug his brother.

Have fun, relax, and be polite to L/n. I think it's weird how Karasuno’s biggest playboy is a complete idiot when it comes to real feelings :0

The second time Tsukishima made Y/n laugh was when they were fourteen.

Y/n was sitting at the white clothed table, wearing the pink lacy dress her parents had picked out for her to wear at the wedding. They picked out pink lace because it matched with the bowtie Tsukishima’s parents had bought him. The wedding was for Y/n’s parents' cousin-in-law’s step-sibling's aunt. Playing with the fabric of his tie, Tsukishima continuously tried peaking glances at y/n. Her hair was done in a way that made him feel like he was on cloud nine. Her features looked unamused and bored, she seemed to be passing the time by seeing how slowly she could drink her glass of cranberry juice.

After the ceremony, and after the first dance, was when the boredom hit Tsukishima as well. Tsukishima had given up on trying to be discreet and decided to keep staring at y/n. Tsukishima followed her eyeline, to realize she was staring at the glass of champagne the newly wed wife was holding.

At this point in his life, Tsukishima had very poor impulse control. And his hormones were raging, or at least that’s what his mom said to him when he told her that he felt all fuzzy whenever Y/n hung out with him. Thinking, that if he managed to steal a bottle and share it with Y/n, then she would finally admit to having a crush on him, or something.

“Psst. Hey, Y/n.” Tsukishima kicked her chair lightly.

“What do you need Tsukki?” When Y/n turned around in her chair and faced him, he swallowed roughly and grabbed her hand pulling her up and into the chapel.

“Tsukki? What are you doing?” Tsukishima sat down in one of the pews, Y/n sitting down right next to him.

“Waiting for you to thank me profusely.” Tsukishima gave a smirk and wiggled his head in a teasing manner.

“Why would I be than-” Tsukishima pulled out the bottle of red wine he managed to snag from the kitchens. Y/n jaw dropped as she held the cold bottle in her hands.

“How did you...” She trailed off.

“I have my ways.” He shrugged as he snagged the bottle away and twisted the cap off. Taking a swig from the bottle, he puckered his lips together at the tart taste. His throat felt dry and scratchy. The drink made his mouth feel grainy.

“It can't be that bad, you big baby.” Y/n took it from him and took an equally large drink. When she coughed and hit her chest a few times, Tsukishima laughed, holding his stomach from how it was constricting due to his laughing.

They threw away the bottle by dumping the rest of the alcohol down the sink of the church bathroom. As they sat with their backs to the door, the dizziness of being drunk for the first time hit them both with a heavy wave.

“Y/n. I reaaalllyyy like you. I like you soooo much. It’s like my heart can’t even handle it.” He hiccupped. He rested his head in her lap, y/n twirled his blonde locks.

“Is that so?”

“Yuppers.”

Y/n laughed, slowly and quietly at first. Growing into a loud rumble that caused Tsukishima to feel like he could die right then and feel totally complete.

“Kei, we are so getting grounded.” Y/n rubbed her eyes, before her hand retreated back into his hair.

“Y/n?”

“Yeah?”

“You haven’t called me Kei since we were twelve and it's really hurting my feelings.” Tsukishima admitted.

“Oh, sorry. I’ll try calling you Kei more then.”

She didn’t even try to call him Kei. From age fourteen to now, it was only Tsukishima or in rare cases of friendly compassion a short and sweet Tsukki. When Tsukishima admitted that it hurt his feelings, he was being honest, and it still rang true.

Tsukishima was staring at the TV much harder than needed. He tried not to pay attention to all the little things Y/n was doing. The way she was breathing, and how it would hitch when the movie got intense, or how it would come out in a longing sigh during the romantic parts. The way she shifted her feet under her and how the couch would dip and move from her toes moving around in her socks. When the credits started to roll, y/n was snoring quietly, resting her head on the armchair hugging herself loosely.

Tsukishima wanted to kiss her.

Wanted to feel the way her soft looking lips would feel against his probably slightly chapped ones. He wanted her to put both of her hands on his head curling her fingers through his hair. Wanted to wrap his arms around her waist and never let go like when he was eight and had fallen in love. Wanted to giggle and be stupid with her like when they were fourteen and he admitted his feelings for her but she didn’t even notice because she was so far gone from the wine. Wanted to be close to her. Wanted to stop entertaining all the girls that filtered through his life like her current favorite song that changed every day.

Tsukishima wanted to stop being so dry witted and mean to her in class. He wanted to stop her from looking at him with her sad eyes when she tried comforting the last girl he had been talking to and then ghosted. He wanted to curl up in his bed and cry. He was tired, so tired of having to make her annoyed at him, but that was the only way to get her attention. He wanted her attention like he needed to breathe. Like she needed to be kind to others. Like Akiteru needed to be supportive and an example. Like everyone on his volleyball team needed to always try their best during games.

The third time that Tsukishima made Y/n laugh was when they were fifteen.

Class was slow. The windows were clouded and the corners fogged up every time someone exhaled. Outside, heavy rain was falling. Most kids had decided to skip school for the day in favor of staying comfortable in their pajamas' watching cartoons or doing homework for other missed classes. Yamaguchi was at home, he had texted Tsukishima saying that he should just come hang out with him, but Tsukishima had already received a text from his mom that he needed to walk home with Y/n because her family hadn’t bought any umbrellas and she would need to walk home with him.

Class was over and Y/n was frowning. The day was dreary because she couldn’t just sit outside and feel alive with the rain falling down her face. She loved the rain, and being stuck inside on such a perfect day for her was getting on her nerves. But also, the fact that she had to walk home with Tsukishima, who had been a real pain in the ass all week with his current girl. Tsukishima leaned against the lockers by the entrance as Y/n switched out of her school shoes into her normal flats.

“We’re gonna be late if you keep taking forever.”

“Late for what?”

“Late for me to care about you getting home dry any longer.” Tsukishima opened the umbrella and started making his way outside.

“Tsukishima!” Y/n groaned as she rushed to close her locker and match pace with the giant.

“Geez. You could have at the very least waited a minute longer.” She tugged her hood over her head.

Tsukishima stayed silent for most of the walk. When Y/n finally broke.

“If you aren't going to even try and make conversation, then just go ahead. I like the rain anyway.” Y/n folded her arms and huffed. She stopped walking and stood still. Tsukishima walked a bit further, just enough for Y/n to not be under the umbrella. When he noticed that she wasn’t next to his side, he stopped and went back for her, holding the umbrella over both of them as he faced her.

“I don’t have time for a Y/n tantrum. Let’s go.” He flatlined.

“And I don’t have time for a brooding Tsukishima.” Tsukishima felt his heartstrings pulling him closer to her. But he kept his distance.

“What’s up?”

“What?” Y/n shook her head, and tilted it at an angle that made Tsukishima want to put his hand on her cheek and run his thumb across her cheek.

“I'm not brooding right now. I’m talking to you right now. So, let's try again. What’s up?”

“Nothing much. Just wondering why, a close family friend of mine is acting like an asshole to all the girl’s in our grade.” Y/n stuffed her hands in her pockets. Bouncing back and forth on the heels of her feet.

Tsukishima held back a smirk. She was playing a game with him. “Maybe they're just acting like that because it’s a nice way to pass the time?”

“I don’t think it's that.” She took a step forward.

“Oh, its most likely that.” He took a step forward. He could see the white mist of her exhaled breath. He could see the slight repressed intrigue and curiosity swirl in her eyes. He wondered if she could hear his heartbeat. He wanted to grab her hand and press it against his chest and yell at her, telling her that she was the one making his head spin and making his knees feel like they would give out any second because they felt like jelly.

“Wanna know another way to pass the time?” She reached out for his hand. He froze, closing his eyes. Her next words were whispered close to his ear. “Having you chase me in the rain.”

She ripped the umbrella from his hand and ran. It took him a second to catch on. But when he did, he bolted forward. When she looked back, she screamed because he was closer than expected. And then she started laughing. The same laugh he had been longing to hear for over a year since the wine incident.

Suddenly, everything they were angry with each other disappeared. Y/n stopped thinking about how much of a dick he was to people. Tsukishima stopped thinking about how much of a scaredy-cat he was for not just being kind to Y/n. They were just two teenagers running in the rain. Hair getting soaked and sticking to their faces. Feet slipping slightly against the wet concrete. The rain hitting the ground.

They were just two kids in love with life.

They never talked about that day. They just knew it existed in their memories of each other, being stored in the filing cabinets of their life.

As Y/n was snuggled up against the couch, Tsukishima wanted to just hold her. The TV screen had gone black. The only light was the dim hanging light in the middle of the kitchen. And for the first time in a while, Tsukishima was okay with the amount of attention he got from Y/n. He didn’t want any more or any less. He was just glad that he had her in his life.

Maybe, just maybe, one day, he would finally be able to tell her that he no longer liked her. But he loved her.

Movie night still seemed to be the only thing on Tsukishima’s mind. Various scenarios of different endings to the scene played in his mind. His favorite being the one where y/n took the first move and admitted that her crush on Akiteru was just a front so that Tsukishima didn’t realize that she liked him back. Sadly, her crush was still very much real, and very much an annoyance to Tsukishima. Which resulted in him being extra responsive to the countless girls who approached him to admit their affections.

He liked to mess around with the idea that they were y/n. He would try to find a similar trait, a similar physical feature, a similar anything to y/n. So that even for just a minute, he could have her attention. Whenever Yamaguchi was absent to class, Tsukishima would just sit in his own seat and wear his headphones. One hand would be toying with the wires connected to either speaker, while his other hand would rest on the very edge of his desk.

It was a smart move on his part. Because then, he could listen to the conversations y/n had with her classmates and yet seem like he was completely ignorant to anything happening on her side of the connected desks. He felt guilty about eavesdropping as often as he did, but he tried to reason his actions with empty excuses.

“L/n, you always talk about how annoying Tsukishima is, so why don’t you just ask our teacher to just move your seat?” Some girl who had previously confessed to Tsukishima in private complained to y/n. Tsukishima could tell that y/n was uncomfortable, when the girl had come up to her and started ranting y/n only let out forced laughs and dry responses.

“Well, I guess you could say that even though everything he does makes him seem like a huge jerk, he is still my friend.” Y/n spoke. Now, in any other case Tsukishima would have felt like he was being stabbed in his heart when y/n called him her friend. But in this situation, he felt relieved. She was defending him, even if it seemed like a half-assed response to the girl’s thinly veiled insult.

That was what played in his mind during volleyball practice.

“Tsukki! Hey! Tsukki!” Yamaguchi made his way to Tsukishima, a small blue towel on the back of his neck to catch the sweat from all the physical activity. Yamaguchi pulled his hair out of the small ponytail, and ran his hand through it.

“Yes?” Tsukishima started to unwrap the bandages from his fingers, dropping the fabric into his duffel bag that laid below.

“You’re close with that L/n girl, right?” Tsukishima felt his heart start to pound in his chest.

“Our parents are close, so by association, I guess we’re fairly close.”

Tsukishima wanted to go on a rant about how long he had been invested in his friendship with her. How she always managed to make his day even when they were fighting. How she would spend countless hours wasting her time watching TV on his family’s couch while he sat in his bedroom listening to her scream at the television shows for having incompetent characters. How she had tried to braid his hair once before a match but realized his hair was too short and then settled for putting it into a ponytail that ended up looking like an antenna on top of his head, when she pointed it out, she howled like a hyena. He wanted to say all of those things and more, but didn’t.

“Okay cool, because, well Yachi was wondering if she could go along with us to next month’s training camp. Yachi doesn’t want to be the only girl on the bus, and would like L/n to come along because she thinks she could handle the manager responsibilities well. And she wouldn’t admit it, but I'm sure Yachi would like to be L/n’s friend but is too scared to ask her.” Yamaguchi took a deep breath from his long explanation.

“I can ask.”

“Amazing. Cool, thanks so much Tsukki!” Yamaguchi waved goodbye as Tsukishima pulled his duffel bag onto his shoulder and made his way from practice back home.

At home, Tsukishima was greeted with two very different sights.

Y/n sitting in the kitchen, spinning around on the chair next to the counter. She was chewing on her pen, looking at a packet opened up to the middle. She had changed out of her school uniform in favor of some pajamas. It was one of Tsukishima’s old t-shirts that he had gifted to her as a gag gift for some Christmas that had gone as fast as it had come. She was wearing a pair of Akiteru’s old volleyball practice shorts, the ones that had holes on the thighs from all the times Akiteru had practiced receiving but ended up sliding across the gym floor. This was a pleasant sight, causing his dopamine levels to rise exponentially.

The second sight was Akiteru with a girl sitting in his lap. She was talking into his ear and playing with the hair on his nape. Akiteru looked, for some reason, really happy that this girl was there with him. Then Tsukishima thought about it for a moment, and realized that he would probably feel and look just as happy as Akiteru if it was Y/n sitting in his lap basking in his presence. This was an enviable sight, he wanted to be Akiteru and he wanted Y/n to be the girl. He had several questions as to why Y/n was at the Tsukishima household, and why Akiteru was with some strange girl.

“Oh hey, Tsukishima.” Y/n whispered. Waving him over. This was odd only in the way that it felt like Tsukishima was out of place. Like a spoon with a bunch of forks. Like a glass of apple juice amongst water. Like a boy with no idea what was happening in his own house.

“Wanna make a guess about whose parents decided it would be a good idea to take a two month-long trip? I’ll give you a big clue. The parents of the two blonde boys and the one h/c haired girl.”

“What...” Tsukishima, was for once, at a loss for a sarcastic comeback.

“Yup. My parents packed all my stuff up and left it in your guest room, they freaking took my house key and locked me out of my own house. Something about, ‘Letting you stay home alone when there are two perfectly great boys to make sure you stay out of trouble right there.’ It’s bullshit. But hey, I guess we both have to deal with our crazy parents.” Y/n’s mouth kept moving, but Tsukishima blocked her words out. He had to be going insane. He had to be going insane. This was not something that happened in real life.

Tsukishima dropped his duffel bag on the floor and went upstairs. Shutting his door with a slight slam. He sat on his bed and looked up at the ceiling. The glow in the dark dinosaurs that y/n had bought him for his eleventh birthday still stuck on. He wanted to take them off but just couldn’t do that because it would mean losing a part of y/n that lived in his room. When his phone buzzed, it was like breaking out of a trance.

Look Kei, I dont want to be in this situation either, but pls just be around me bc I dont think I can handle the weird smacking sounds coming from Akiteru and his girlfriend.

Did she mean to type Kei instead of Tsukishima? Was it a fluke? Before he had time to respond, his door opened and shut quickly.

“Geez, I thought I was going to be suffocated by the smell of their cologne and perfume. And why is your brother such a loud kisser? Does he have a vendetta against romance?” She moved around in his room like she had it memorized. Sitting down in his desk chair and resting her elbows on her knees. Her legs dangled slightly seeing as his chair was set to the tallest setting.

When Tsukishima finally made eye contact, he noticed the tears that had begun to create a sheen over her eyes. He looked away quickly and spoke.

“I assume he does have a vendetta against romance.” Y/n forced out a curt laugh. The tension in Tsukishima’s room was somewhat thick.

There were three times that Y/n had been in his room. The first time was when they were barely six years old.

“Why is your room the way it is?” Y/n tilted her head around, looking at everything with her big doe eyes. Akiteru was sitting on Tsukishima’s bed listening to music on his iPod, seeing as Tsukishima’s parents wanted him to hang out with Y/n and Tsukishima.

“Because it is.”

“That’s not much of an answer though Kei-Kei.” Y/n poked at a few of his dinosaur figurines.

“Stop calling me that.” Tsukishima stood up and fixed the arrangement of his toys before dragging Y/n down to the floor so that she wouldn’t keep messing with his stuff.

“Kei-Kei?” Y/n offered. Laying on her back, she extended out all of her limbs to mimic a starfish.

“Stop.”

“Kei-Kei.” Y/n sat back up and leaned forward, facing him.

“I said to stop!” He put his hands on her shoulders and put his face up close to her own.

“Kei-Kei.” Y/n mocked, moving her head from one side to the other for each syllable of the nickname. Tsukishima took his hands off her shoulders and pouted. At the same time, Akiteru got off the bed and tried walking out of Tsukishima’s room. But he tripped and accidentally bumped into Tsukishima.

Akiteru gasped.

Tsukishima and Y/n’s lips were touching. Akiteru ran out of the room with his eyes blown out wide. Tsukishima stayed still; y/n’s lips were sticky from her Chapstick and the feeling of resting his lips against hers was nice. Y/n immediately retreated her head away from Tsukishima’s. She looked wildly distraught. And in one instant she had begun to bawl. Tsukishima panicked.

“What's wrong?!”

“I didn’t want you to be my first kiss!” She said with tears streaming down her face, she kept trying to wipe them off but it began to irritate her skin and make her cheeks and eyes turn red.

“Hold on, I can fix it!” Tsukishima stood up and began searching his desk drawers. Pulling out the drawers rapidly, he stuck his hands in each of them feeling around. When he finally found what he was looking for he went back to Y/n and crouched down next to her.

“You should rub the eraser against your lips, and then it'll be like it never happened!” Y/n did as was suggested, once she felt satisfied with the erasing, she sighed.

“Good save there Kei-Kei.” She was still sniffling but had long since stopped crying. When she offered the eraser to him, he put it back into his drawer. “Aren’t you going to get rid of the kiss?” She questioned, again rubbing her eyes to get rid of the remaining wet spots on her cheeks.

“I don’t think I want to.”

The tension in the room snapped. Like when two people were tugging on two opposite ends of a rope, and the middle begins to slowly fray, and then as they kept tugging it to be more on their side, the rope rips in the middle and both people fall down due to the gravity of having the only thing keeping them upright breaking. Y/n put her head in her hands and her shoulders begin to shake. Slowly at first, like the fraying of the rope. Then faster, and her breath was reduced to sharp inhales, the ripping in the middle. And then finally heavy exhales combined with tears falling, the snap.

Just like when they were six years old, Tsukishima jumped up and tried to fix it. Wrapping his arms around her shoulders, her head on his chest. The flames in his chest rise, the palpitating pain starting in his chest spreads out until every inch of his body is absorbed in excruciating pain. It didn’t hurt, it just ached. He wanted so badly to block out everything that was hurting her at the moment. But he knew that anything he would try to say would just come out sounding cruel in the moment.

She cried herself to sleep. Tsukishima was still holding her against his chest when he could hear the sniffles subside and become replaced with slow and balanced breathing. He stayed like that for a minute longer than needed. When he picked her up, carefully cradling her head and went to the guest room. Her stuff was indeed in the room, she had unpacked some of her school stuff as it was strewn across the desk. He laid her on the bed. Her body naturally cuddles up to one of the pillows. Tsukishima pulled the blanket hanging on the reading chair in the corner of the room and set it on y/n’s sleeping figure.

He stayed in the room for longer than would have been deemed appropriate. But his excuse was that he wanted to make sure she was still breathing. Her inhales and exhales are even and stable, not like the sharpness of when she was crying and choking on not having enough air get to her lungs. When Tsukishima walked out of her room, he shut the door as softly as possible.

He had two things to do.

Make sure y/n was okay.

Which was completed successfully.

The other thing was to beat Akiteru up.

“Bye! See you tomorrow then? Saturday at two! Love you!” Akiteru let out a love-struck sigh, resting his back against the front door.

“What is wrong with you?” Tsukishima said and though his words were aggressive, they came out calmly. But yet, each word seems to prick and scratch at Akiteru.

“Excuse me?” Akiteru’s mood dropped, and it was obvious.

“You really messed things up. Why the hell did you have to bring a girl over, when you knew that Y/n would be here. You do know that she is practically in love with you right?”

Akiteru’s mouth moved like a fish. It was moving but no words were coming out. Tsukishima’s next words were sarcastic and dripping with a jealous venom. “Perfect Akiteru, older brother extraordinaire, the best role model.”

“Kei.” Akiteru rubbed his temple, and walked towards Tsukishima.

“Don't call me that.” Tsukishima took a step back. Away from his brother, no scratch that, away from the man who made the love of his life hurt.

“But it's your name?” Akiteru reasoned. He didn’t try to take a step forward.

“I don’t want you tainting the way I've heard it said. You don’t get to say my name anymore. Not after you made y/n cry. She cried so hard I thought she was going to accidently hurt herself from how she was breathing.” Tsukishima’s glasses were fogging up, his fists clenched. But his voice stayed the same, calm and powerful. He was making sure his voice didn’t crack in front of Akiteru.

“She told me she had a crush on...” Akiteru was cut off when Tsukishima heard his words.

“So why did you have to go and be such an asshole?” Tsukishima’s voice cracked, but he kept his stance.

“I wasn’t being an asshole Kei.” Akiteru explained.

“Don't call me that.”

“Fine. But you do realize that I can't stop my life just for y/n, right? It isn’t going to always be about what she wants?” Akiteru tried to reason.

“It is for me! It's always going to be about her. It always has been.” That’s when the tears started to fall. They blinded him.

“Then why don’t you let her know that? Because it honestly doesn’t seem like you care about her when you toy around with a new girl every week.” Akiteru was done giving his words a soft touch, these words were hard hitting and so true that it made Tsukishima want to puke.

“Because that’s the only way to get her to pay attention to me! Don’t you see?” Tsukishima stood back up. “The only way to get her attention is for me to show her that I'm wanted by other girls.”

“That’s not how it is and you know it.” Akiteru pushed past Tsukishima and walked upstairs to his room. Leaving Tsukishima to stand alone in the hallway.

As the sun peeked over the rim of the world, people awoke and rose from their death-like slumber. Tsukishima had fallen asleep as soon as he put his head on his pillow. When he woke up, he looked at his phone and realized that Yamaguchi had called him over ten times and his messages were all about Y/n.

(TSUKKI) (Did you ask her yet?) (Ask her pls) (Ask her!!!!) (Yachi is on my tail rn pls ask and get an answer) (Oh r u in one of your moods about her rn?) (Did you try and be all romantic and shit and it didn’t turn out the way u wanted) (Lol jk) (I know u wouldn’t do that) (But yeah, just ask her’)(thankzzzzz)

When Tsukishima put on his glasses, he was about to type in a reply, when there were seven knocks on his door. Y/n. His answer came out before he could realize he wasn’t wearing a shirt.

“Come on in!” When Y/n opened the door, she had two plates of food balanced on her hands and her hair was slightly damp.

“Oh.....hey, I brought food. But if you want, I can just leave it here....” Y/n trailed off.

“No! I mean, no, you can stay. I’ll put on a shirt.”

Tsukishima stood up and went over to his closet and slipped on a shirt, then he went back and sat on his bed. Y/n was sitting crossed legged in his beanbag and chewing on some of the strawberries on her plate. Tsukishima did the same, crossing his legs and eating the fruit.

“I'm sorry for yesterday. I didn’t mean to have a breakdown. I shouldn't be getting emotional over nothing.” Y/n toyed with a piece of her hair, looking down at her plate. When she saw Akiteru kissing the girl, she wasn’t jealous. She imagined that it was her and Tsukishima. She tried blinking repeatedly to get the image out of her head. But it stuck. And she realized. She should have realized sooner.

“Yamaguchi was wondering if you would come along for the volleyball training camp next month?” Tsukishima said. When he realized what he did, he honestly wanted to slap himself in the face. He completely ignored what Y/n was trying to say, and he felt embarrassed.

Y/n raised her eyebrows in shock, but then gave a shy smile. “Sure, it’s not like I’ll be doing anything else.” Tsukishima swallowed thickly, and nodded.

The second time Y/n was in his room was when they were ten years old.

Tsukishima hated when his parents held dinner parties, and he still does. But because of his slowly growing crush on Y/n he seemed more willing to help out with the party. When the Tsukishimas’ lined up by the front door, wearing their best dress, welcoming the guests with a curt bow, Tsukishima thought he would drown from all the people invading his space. Seeing Y/n hop inside his house was a refreshing breath of air.

How was he supposed to focus on what his mom was trying to say about the steak when Y/n was sitting right there. Right next to him, and being so perfect that he thought he would just burst from pure happiness. Y/n had been on a vacation for most of summer, so he hadn’t seen her for a long time.

She had gotten taller, but so had he. She had gotten prettier, and he still felt like he had a baby face. She had gotten more polite and was able to find the ample time to give her opinion during the conversation between the grownups, while he still struggled to refrain from making snarky comments about the lives of his parents' friends.

So, he thought he was dreaming when Y/n made eye contact and moved her eyes to look over at the stairs when the adults brought out the alcohol. Swiftly, they made their escape to his room. Tsukishima was glad that his parents had forced him to clean his room before the party.

“Kei, I thought I was going to just die from all the talking about taxes.”

“But, Y/n, you seemed to be so good at finding exactly what to say. Like, all the time.”

Tsukishima stood in the middle of his room, shuffling his feet awkwardly as Y/n held her hands behind her back and pursed her lips together as she looked around his room.

“I guess. But it's pretty stupid that adults don’t talk about cool things anymore.” Y/n heard her name being called from downstairs. “Kei, promise that even when we are old and wrinkly and gross, that we won’t have nothing to talk about?” Y/n held out her hand, and Tsukishima gripped it tight as they shook seven times.

“Okay, now that you promised Kei, you can't ever break it okay?”

“I know.” Tsukishima smiled as he waved goodbye to Y/n as she exited his room.

His promise echoed in his brain as a month passed with Y/n living in his house. Conversations were kept to a minimum, as they each worked on homework separately. Tsukishima, though, often got flustered when he saw her bras hanging up on the drying rack in the laundry room. Other than seeing bras, or an occasional pair of underwear, he was sure that he could make it the month without being forced into any awkward situations. Weekly movie night was practically the same, except for the addition of Akiteru’s girlfriend. But, halfway through each of the movies the couple would start kissing and it would disturb Tsukishima and Y/n, who then retreated to their own rooms.

When Tsukishima woke up to his alarm at around five thirty in the morning, he laid in his bed for a while just staring at the glow in the dark dinosaurs. He could hear Y/n shuffling downstairs with her suitcase, and he looked over to his own suitcase. For a while he pretended that this was normal. To have the girl that he had been in love with since he was six-year-old living in his house. When he went downstairs, Y/n was yawning and looking through her backpack to make sure that she had everything for the week long training camp. His last training camp as a high schooler. He was a third year now. So was Y/n. But it hadn’t quite hit him until he was at the school with everyone waiting to get onto the bus.

“Since you are all Karasuno Volleyball members, I thought it would be a fun idea to pair you up for the bus ride, and for any activities that we have planned while we are down in Tokyo. While this is still training camp, we want this to be memorable. Especially for our intermittent manager, L/n.” Coach Ukai stated dully, as if he was reading off cue cards written by Takada which he was indeed doing.

“-And finally, we have Tsukishima and L/n as our last pair. Okay get your asses on the bus, I’m too tired for this right now.”

Getting onto the bus last, Tsukishima took both his and Y/n’s suitcases and put them on the overhead carrier. Y/n seemed stunned by the action then just shook her head and slipped into the row, sitting in the window seat. Tsukishima hardly got any sleep during the night and was on the verge of falling asleep. Nodding his head before flinching and lifting his head back up. There was a seat in-between Tsukishima and Y/n, where they set their backpacks down. Tsukishima leaned his head back onto the seat, but after about ten minutes his neck started to hurt. So, he just let out a low groan of agitation.

Whilst Tsukishima was going through his mini freak out trying to be comfortable enough to sleep, he didn’t notice as Y/n grabbed the bags and set them down by her feet. Clearing her throat, Tsukishima looked over to her with furrowed eyebrows and a sour face.

“Kei,” Tsukishima felt his heart jump into his throat. “C’mere.” Y/n reached over and pulled his head down, after he was resisting for a few seconds, Y/n clarified.

“Rest your head in my lap, you clearly didn’t get any sleep last night. I’ll play with your hair like when we were younger.” Tsukishima wanted to refuse; he really did. But she was saying everything in the same gentle tone that she reserved for first years or the animals she came across. Once her hand went to his fringe, he was putty.

“Only because I'm tired.” He explained as he rested his head on her lap.

“Whatever you say, Kei.”

In almost no time, Tsukishima fell asleep. But instead of a dream, it was a memory. The memory of the third time Y/n went into his room.

They were sixteen and stupid. He had another layer though, he was sixteen, stupid, and mean. Second year had been a bitch so far. Tsukishima hadn’t even got seated in the same row as Y/n. Instead, she got seated next to some flirt on the basketball team. Now, there weren’t people taller than Tsukishima typically, but over the summer Ito Yuuta grew five inches and was two inches taller than Tsukishima.

Tsukishima didn’t want to accept the fact that Y/n was just being nice to Ito Yuuta, because Ito was, in the simplest terms, an ass to Tsukishima. So anytime he saw them talking, it triggered something in Tsukishima. So, his own mean ways came back with a passion. He led on more than three girls at a time the week that he caught Ito leaning in far too close to Y/n and made her laugh.

Tsukishima knew it was wrong. He knew he was playing with fire when Ito’s first year little sister tried to get Tsukishima’s attention. He knew it was bad news to break her heart. He knew it was worse news that he had done it right in front of Ito himself.

“I’m not looking for anything serious right now. Bye.” Tsukishima left Ito’s sister standing by the school entrance with her jaw slack and her hand covering her mouth. Ito was fuming. He marched into class and ripped Tsukishima’s headphones right off.

“What the hell. You can’t just do that to a first year!” Tsukishima stood up and ripped his headphones from Ito’s hands.

“I just did.”

“Screw you Tsukishima. You're just a sad bastard because Y/n wouldn’t give you the time of day if you begged.” Ito huffed and pointed directly to where Y/n’s desk was.

“What?” He spat out.

“That's right, half of the school knows about your constant boner for the only girl who doesn’t give a flying shit about you.” Ito pushed Tsukishima in the chest before scoffing and walking out of the class. Tsukishima just stood there. Silent. Yamaguchi tried to talk to him but Tsukishima just snapped at him too.

Tsukishima walked out of class and to Y/n’s clubroom. When he saw her sitting down at a table silently gluing pieces of magazines onto a cardstock poster, he wanted to stop what he was going to do. But he was furious.

“You told him?” Tsukishima yelled. He was glad that it was just Y/n in the clubroom. Y/n flinched at the sudden screaming. He felt guilty immediately.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about Tsukishima?” Y/n tried to get closer to him, but he pulled away from her.

“Oh, I'm sure you don’t know. Hell, Y/n.” Tsukishima stormed out of the clubroom and went straight home. He didn’t care if the school was going to call his parents, he was fuming and the only thing running through his veins was hatred.

He spent the entire day blasting music through his headphones, his eyes shut tight. The music was so loud that he didn’t even notice Y/n opening his bedroom door.

When she taps him on the shoulder he flinches at the sudden contact. He takes off his headphones and growls his words, “What do you want?”

“I want you to explain what happened in the clubroom.” She sat down on the edge of his bed and looked straight into his eyes.

This was the first time in what felt like forever that Y/n had talked to him. But he only had himself to blame for that, he was the one who pushed her away, he was the one who chose to stay away from her once he saw how she treated Akiteru. He was the one who was giving her the silent treatment.

And for once, Tsukishima wished he was anyone else at this moment.

“Do you really not see it?”

“How can I see when you’re covering my eyes?” Y/n refuted. Her analogy was confusing and didn’t clarify anything to Tsukishima.

“You never promised back that you would talk to me. Do you remember? We were ten years old, and you made me promise.” Tsukishima was tired of not having her attention. He was tired of it. He wanted her to talk to him. He wanted her to actively search out for him and ask about his day. He just wanted to have her be there for him. But how could he expect that from her when he was never there for her?

“I don’t remember that Tsukishima.” Each of her words was like an arrow was shooting through his heart.

He got up from his bed and gently, with as little force as possible shoved her out of his room. Sixteen-year-old Tsukishima wanted to grab her hands and yell in her face that he loved her. He wanted to say, I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. Because saying that would make the conversation interesting, it would entertain Y/n. Because they would be talking about his love instead of taxes.

That was the worst night of his life. Tsukishima's memories loved to play harsh tricks on him by creeping up when his mentality and esteem were going from low to lower.

The bus droned on, and despite everyone’s attempt to sleep Kageyama and Hinata were still talking loudly to the first years about how cool their seniors had been.

She was slightly twisting his hair, her pointer finger grabbing small tufts and looping it around her finger before sliding her hand out, leaving miniature curls. Tsukishima, even on a bus ride, had always been a sleep talker.

He awoke when he felt her poking him in his cheek. When he turned his head to look up at her, she was grinning.

“I love you too Kei.” She whispered as her hand ran through his hair. “Your sleep talking habit has gotten worse over the years.” She mused, giving him a few pats on his head.

And suddenly every single one of Kei’s favorite memories came rushing back to him. The memory of his first kiss with Y/n. The memory of her faking falling off a cliff when they were eight years old. The dinner party where she made him promise to always have something to say. The drunk confession when he was fourteen-year old. The chasing and running in the rain at fifteen. His five favorite memories, bursting into vivid color.

Y/n didn’t know what possessed her to utter the words. She knew it was wrong to say that to him. She knew that her love for him would only seem to rebound from his brother. She was a jerk to do that to him. And she was completely aware of it. But she did love him.

She loved him when she realized she didn’t love Akiteru. She wanted to believe that she loved Akiteru because she didn’t want to say that she loved Kei. Kei played around too much, so she knew it would only hurt her to like him. She needed someone secure. And at the time that person was Akiteru. But once she saw him kissing another girl, she realized she wasn’t jealous.

She felt happy for Akiteru. When she pictured it as Kei however, only then was she jealous.

Kei sat up fast, his hands running to cup her face. His words were practically buffering in his brain as he tried to come up with a sarcastic comment. But that didn’t fit right for a moment like this.

“I finally, finally, have your attention, right?”

Some years later, and after a lot of growing up, life finally clicked.

"I guess you did end up with a pet dinosaur Kei." Y/N traced the outline of the label in front of the ancient bones. She was wearing his Sendai Frogs jersey.

"He's not a pet, he's a testament to nature." Tsukishima slipped his arm around her waist, slipping cold fingers under her shirt to rub her hip. Goosebumps appeared for a moment, then dissipated.

In three weeks they would get married. In four, their apartment would be ready to move into. In one hundred fifty-six weeks, Y/N agreed that she would consider, maybe, having a kid.

"Did you like the game?"

"I loved the game, you were so cool! Which is almost never the case." His face hurts from how hard he's been smiling lately.

"You don't have to work, you know." He commented when he saw her scrolling through her phone calendar, purple events of her job at the weather forecasting station. She liked being a meteorologist, she was always the first to know when it was going to rain now.

"You're so annoying." Tsukishima kissed her, getting a laugh and a smile in response. He continued the tour around the museum, giving her more details than any other tour he had given. His favorite relics, his least favorite place to clean, the place he most wanted to make out with her. When they took a pause, she was playing with his hair at the nape of his neck as they were sitting in front of a painting.

Tsukishima Kei was used to the attention he got from L/N Y/N. It came from having an aura where he radiated love for her.

#a classic of mine #i love a good childhood friends to lovers #haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #hq #hq x reader #tsukishima kei #tsukishima #tsukishima kei x reader #tsukishima x reader #angst #angst with a happy ending #fluff #childhood nostalgia #childhood friends to lovers #childhood friends #friends to lovers #slow burn #lilly's red string of fate

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