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honeekyuu · 7 months ago

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love affair. [tsukishima kei x f!reader] chapter two.

>>The unsavory reputation that Tsukishima Kei has built for himself as the Sendai Frogs' rudest rookie puts his upcoming contract renewal at risk

Tsukki really needs a girlfriend, and you really need everyone to stop calling you his pathetic, pining best friend<<

series status: [complete]

previous. || masterlist. || next.

a/n: kyoutani/kiyoko was not the side pair i expected to fall in love with but here you go

[feel free to buy me a cup of coffee!]

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The two months that follow the start of the relationship between you and Tsukishima Kei can only be characterized as ‘ change ’.

You find your flow easily after that first week, the unspoken agreement made on the couch that night at the forefront of every interaction together. In order to make the relationship convincing, you both learn to play the part to the best of your abilities. You learn to lean into the expectations of the people watching you closely, playing into them and even surpassing them — because you can rely on your understanding of each other, the kind of familiarity that comes with 15 years of history.

You already know his regimented morning routine, because you were tortured into keeping the same hours as him in high school. You know that the muscle patches he prefers for his back are different than the ones he prefers for his shoulders, because it’s always been you who applies those patches to the places he can’t reach.

In the same way, Tsukki knows how you take your coffee — hot almond milk vanilla latte in the morning, always, followed by an iced oat milk mocha with two extra shots of espresso in the afternoon. He’d accidentally gotten you a hot mocha once and watched you wilt a little but drink it, anyway, and then he’d never done it again. He knows you prefer to study not in the library or at your department, but on the quad outside of some random administrative building, because you’d once called it the ‘perfect ratio of quiet, focus space and people-watching from afar’.

So, when people swoon and scream online about how someone had seen you tearing down the aisles of the nearest convenience store at 5am after Tsukki had pulled a muscle while out for a run — your hands picking out his patches without needing to think about it — you’re awarded the ‘ Great Girlfriend ’ points without really having earned them. And when Tsukki’s spotted ordering your complicated afternoon mocha without struggling — even asking them to remake it, because he’d tasted it and could tell it was regular milk — before wandering knowingly off to some random patch of grass by the Student Records Building, your Twitter DMs nearly break with the amount of people asking how you ‘ trained him so well ’.

What so few people realize, even though your long-time friendship is brought up so often in the media, is that you and Tsukki don’t do these things because you’re madly in love and have made the effort to learn the small, seemingly unimportant details about each other. You do them because they’re ingrained in your understanding of each other. You do them because there’s no alternative; Tsukki will only use Salonpas on his back, and you won’t drink anything with regular milk because it makes your stomach hurt. These are just the facts, but, for some reason, they seem to convince people that your relationship is real more than being seen on a date ever has.

In fact, the things you are learning about each other and teaching each other about are the larger, romantic details that people always assume come first. You learn that Tsukki’s default pet name for you is ‘ princess ’, but that, when he’s being intentionally antagonistic, he has a habit of bending down to your height and plastering a mocking smile on his face while calling you ‘ sweetheart ’. He learns that you show affection by feeding him, his arms always full of tupperware when he leaves your apartment and two – two, not one – lunches shoved haphazardly in his gym bag when you know he’s going to have a long training day.

And, of course, there is a lot to learn about each other physically. You have to learn how to walk with his hand in your back pocket or on your waist, because that’s how he likes to walk you to class. And he has to learn that, unless it’s a peck hello or goodbye, you tend to start with a kiss to his cheek — because you get too shy to flat-out kiss him without some kind of warm-up.

You learn that you like his hands very much, but that you like when he keeps eye contact with you more than anything. It’s in the way he beckons you to him after a game or in the way he watches you walk from the door of a cafe all the way to the seat he’s reserved for you. That, coupled with the contrast of him being rough with his blocks at practice but careful about moving your hair out of your face, guarantees that you need several long minutes to recover after a moment with him.

He learns that when you look up at him with those doe eyes he didn’t even know you had — he’s most familiar with your eyes when they’re mid-eye-roll — that it takes an absurd amount of self-control not to give you everything you want. And when you tie your hair up, especially on the hot afternoons sprinkled through the start of Fall, he has to tear his eyes away from the curve of your neck and physically sit on his hands to stop himself from touching the sliver of tummy that peeks out when your shirt lifts a little.

In private, of course, these things are never issues. In private, you are, for the most part, the same as you’ve always been: two friends who fight and laugh and keep an appropriate amount of distance between each other. Friends who get together on Friday nights to drink and watch bad TV. Friends who never need to think around each other, because that’s the best part about being friends.

It’s just that sometimes friends do need to keep things from each other – which is something you’re both still learning to deal with.

When you try on new outfits and ask for his opinion, his scan of your body is cursory because he knows not to let himself linger on how this dress sits on your hips or how that shirt makes your boobs look. He’s careful not to let you catch him staring at your thighs, on display when you wear those cursed little pajama shorts. And he’s quick to always take the corner of the couch instead of sitting beside you, even though he itches to snake an arm around your waist and pull your side flush to his.

When he sits at his dining table, telling you about practice while you cook dinner in his and Yamaguchi’s kitchen, your biggest challenge is keeping your eyes off of his bare chest and wet hair, his skin still dewy and warm after his shower. When you write papers while sitting on your tiny, Twin XL bed and he comes over from the couch to bother you, you’re tasked with keeping your breathing even and your eyes firmly on your laptop, because there’s never enough space between you and you worry what you might do if you look at him. And when he checks the time and mumbles that he can stay for one more episode of your show – even though it’s almost always past midnight when he does it – you know to hide your smile behind your hand, because it’s expected that you’ll sigh and say ‘ just one more ’ like a normal friend.

In private, friends don’t unknowingly seek out reasons to brush against each other, and they don’t subconsciously wear less clothes around each other, only to chalk it up to being comfortable around each other.

But you don’t need to know that. And he doesn’t need to know that. Because as long as you both know the rules for being in private – “hands to yourself” – then everything else can be kept hidden.

In public, however, things are quite a bit different.

In public, you find yourself in a no-holds-barred relationship where nothing – nothing – is off limits.

In public, the boy who used to bring his collection of dinosaur figurines over to your house on the weekends is the same boy who now picks you up from class with a kiss and the promise of free ‘ girlfriend-discount’ coffee. The boy who wouldn’t share his crayons with you unless you promised your snacks to him – that’s the boy who shamelessly buys you a small wardrobe’s worth of Frogs merch with his name on it, tying your hair back with a neon green TK scrunchie and unironically presenting a set of green pajama shorts to you, his face printed on the left ass cheek.

The boy who’d sling mud into the hair of mean little girls who would put their hands on you.

That’s the boy who puts his hands on you now.

On the small of your back – a self-assured touch that guides you through a sea of flashing lights and reporters waiting at the entrance to the Frogs’ home gym. Slung around your waist – fingers hooked loosely into the belt loop on your hip while he stands with you at your favorite cafe’s self-order kiosk, his card already out. Tickling the inside of your thigh – the pad of his thumb drawing circles in your skin while he drives, his other hand reaching to cup your face so he can press his lips gently to yours at red lights.

Hidden under your shirt – fingertips kneading at all the plushest parts of your skin while he kisses you stupid at the front of an empty lecture hall, the door cracked open just slightly. Because – while it’s an obvious conclusion that any form of physical intimacy at home should be strictly off limits – the corner classroom on the top floor of your department that you know is unused at 2pm every day just so happens to walk a very fine line between public and private.

Public enough that you might be caught – as long as he’s not getting into fights , as Management is fond of reminding the two of you – and public enough that you sincerely see no issue with letting your best friend shove his tongue down your throat. Private enough, however, that you’re able to speak candidly to each other, even with your legs wrapped around Tsukki’s waist and his fingertips brushing across the underwire of your lacy bra.

That’s where you find yourself now, on a chilly Tuesday afternoon in the last week of October, after weeks of meeting up here. Your weight is supported by the table at the front of the lecture hall, skirt hiked up a little too high and hands curled into his hair. He’s bent over you, lips burning a path of bruises along the column of your throat while his hips, slotted between yours, keep your legs open and your skirt pushed up.

“You look good today,” He murmurs against your skin, your quiet panting the only other sound in the room. One of his hands is pressed firmly against your back, keeping you close to him, and the other is gripping your thigh, much higher than he really should be. But you can’t seem to mind, even when you feel the blunt edge of his nails scratch briefly along the line of your panties.

That’s the change you still haven’t gotten totally used to – the shiver of anticipation that’s started to run down your spine when he gets too close, the flip of excitement just under your navel when your body presses against his.

After years of not caring even a little bit about who he would take home from a party – about the rumors that would float around campus, whispered by girls who’ve gotten into bed with him – you’re facing the reality that is being attracted to Tsukishima Kei.

“Which part?” You mumble back absentmindedly, tightening your hold in his hair when he bites down on the crook of your neck, his tongue soothing the pain right away.

“Dunno,” He says, gripping your thighs and dragging your hips minimally closer to his. “I just really like this.” He thumbs at your skirt in explanation. Your body responds when he chuckles low, goosebumps breaking out all over your skin. “Giving me something to think about tonight.”

“You’re doing it again, Tsukki,” You joke, laughily breathily. He’d started doing that in the last couple weeks – making little comments like that. You’re not sure you’ll ever get used to it. “I didn’t know celibacy would hit you this hard.”

He sighs against your skin, shaking his head. “There you go again, not believing me.”

There’s an embarrassingly large part of you that wants to. But you know well enough that you’re not his type, so you’re not sure what could possibly going on with him if not an extreme case of blue-balls after two months without sex. Somehow, even after everything you’ve done together the last few weeks, it seems silly to think he might genuinely want you. Surely not.

“Well, you’re a flirt, so I can never tell with you,” You say, entirely honest but playing it off like a joke. He stops kissing your throat and leaves his lips against your pulse, breathing hard.

“Name one time I’ve lied to you.”

You scratch your nails against his scalp. “It’s not that serious, Tsukki. I can take the joke.”

“Y/n-”

You laugh nervously into his shoulder, feeling him shift in annoyance. “What’s going on with you lately, huh?” Your insecurities peek through, and you’re stupid enough to act on them. “Should I let you off the leash for one night? To get it out of your system?”

It’s the wrong thing to say – even you know that.

His mouth leaves your skin before you realize what’s going on, one of his hands coming up to grip your face. You gasp, seeing that he’s glaring at you with those sharp, golden eyes.

“You really don’t know when to shut the fuck up, do you?”

You blink up at him, your chest heaving. You want to look away, because, while you’ve seen that scowl before, it’s never been like this. And you know he won’t let you look away. His fingertips only tighten on your cheeks when you try, and he uses his grip to force you to shake your head.

“No, you don’t,” He whispers mockingly. “You don’t know. You just love to say shit that’ll piss me off.”

You have no idea what’s going on right now. You don’t know that you’ve ever seen this side of him. His condescending tone is nothing new – mocking jokes and rude comments are not new. But the way he’s treating you now is not that, and the way you’re reacting to it is not that. There’s something else, and you want so badly to blame it on anything that isn’t this newfound physical attraction to Tsukishima Kei.

Because there is absolutely no reason that the way he’s speaking to you should turn you on. No reason at all.

“Apologize,” He whispers, eyes steady on yours.

You blink stupidly, too distracted by the wave of heat that crashes over you. He lifts your chin toward him, eyes narrowing.

“Apologize, Y/n. For insulting me.”

“Did I insult you?” You bite weakly, your voice shaky and your heart pounding in your ears. You’re still his best friend. You’re still the girl who’s never backed down from a challenge. “Then you apologize too, for joking about being attracted to me.”

His eyebrow twitches with irritation. “What?” He hisses, clearly holding back.

“‘s not nice to mess with me like that, Tsukishima,” You say, your confidence shrinking by the second. You can’t handle much more of this – the way he’s grabbing you, the way he’s glaring at you.

His eyes flicker with something you can’t place when you say his name. You’ve noticed that, too. That he reacts when you use his full name. You don’t know why, or if it’s even conscious.

He scowl twists into a sneer. “You know, you’ve been really fucking annoying recently.” His eyes light up when you gasp, and he leans down, releasing your face in favor of planting both hands on the desk behind you, caging you in. “Making all these little jokes. Downplaying the shit I say to you.”

“Well, you’ve been particularly horny recently,” You say, some of your sense coming back now that he doesn’t have a literal hold on you. “Gotta keep reminding you that it’s me you’re dealing with.” You brush some of his hair out of his face, your touch gentle. “Before you do something you’ll regret.”

“I thought I told you to get over that,” is all he says, his voice nothing more than a whisper. There’s still heat behind it, but he mostly just looks frustrated.

“It’s not that easy,” You whisper back, your nose brushing his. “Especially not with the whole world reminding me that I’m nothing like the girls before me.”

So maybe you’re still a little sensitive about the 16-tweet thread someone had made last week, comparing photos of you and photos of all of Tsukki’s exes and one-night stands. He’d gotten the account banned before you’d even looked through all of the tweets, but there are still 13 side-by-sides haunting you when you close your eyes.

“Of course you’re not like them,” He says, rolling his eyes. “I don’t remember half of their names.”

You give him a deadpan stare. “Charming.”

“What do you want me to say, Y/n? That I don’t have a type?” He still hovers over you, close enough that you see the honesty sitting in his eyes. “Yeah, I have a type. All those other girls look the same to me.”

And then he grabs at your thighs, fingers familiar on your skin. You squirm, but he holds tight. “But that doesn’t mean I’m forcing myself to put my hands on you.” He squeezes you, tugs at your skirt and threads his fingers through your hair. “Doesn’t mean I’m putting myself through hell to do this to you.” He tightens his grip and tilts your head to the side, and you realize he’s talking about the fresh hickies on your neck.

He lets you go, standing tall and towering over you. You crane your neck back to look up at him, and his eyes flick down to the hollow of your throat. Your heart jumps when he lifts a hand and rests it there, fingers flexing loosely around the front of your neck.

That’s new.

“You think I would drag you in here and lay you back on this desk every week if I thought you were ugly?” He whispers, eyes a little clouded as he looks you over. You, with your legs still spread and wrapped around his waist. With your chest heaving and your eyes blown wide, surprise written all over your face. With your throat in his hand and no indication that you wouldn’t want it there.

“God,” He laughs to himself, shaking his head in disbelief. “You’re so stupid, Y/n. Two months and you still think like this.” When you only sigh shakily, unsure what to do with this conversation, he tightens his hold on your throat. His eyes are lit up like sunlight, warm but quick to burn if you make the wrong move. “Looks like I’ll just have to prove you wrong.”

What?

“Tsukki-” “Y/n.”

You both jump, turning to the door. Nariko is rushing into the room, but, when she sees the precarious position the two of you are in, she respectfully averts her eyes.

“Nariko,” You gasp, sitting up. Tsukki’s quick to pull your skirt down over your thighs and help you down.

“Time for our daily dose of Sendai Sports ,” He sighs, clearly annoyed.

“Sorry-I-” Nariko’s got her hand over her eyes, her camera hanging uselessly at her side. She very well could have snapped a photo of you two in that moment, but she’d chosen not to.

You’re infinitely glad it’s her that had walked in.

“The other reporters figured out that you didn’t stay at the cafe after your class. They’re on their way back here now.”

You’d walked across the street after class to get your iced coffee and study at a corner table, but you’d snuck out the back when Tsukki had texted you to meet him here. Your coffee sits, untouched and lukewarm, on a nearby desk.

Nariko’s the only one who’d seen you re-enter the building, and that’s because she’d snuck out the back of the cafe with you, the woman a frequent companion over the months. She hadn’t asked any of the questions she’s probably paid to ask when you’d gone in the side door of your department, and she’d conveniently stopped to tie her shoes you’d said you needed to take care of something on the top floor and gotten on the elevator.

You collect your bag from the floor quickly, tossing the coffee away as you fix your appearance.

“Damn it.” You look to Tsukki, who seems less annoyed with Nariko now that she’s made it clear she’s here to help. “We have to go out the back.” And then you look at Nariko, having accepted long ago that this woman feels like an older sister. “Is my makeup okay?”

She looks you over, starting to nod, but then she spots the bruises on your neck. “Uhm…”

You roll your eyes. “Yeah, I know. I’m not happy about it, either.”

“ You were at the time ,” Tsukki mutters under his breath. You elbow him hard, and Nariko sniffs in order to cover her laugh. She still knows better than to get comfortable with him.

“You’re fine,” She says, glancing out the door. “But you should go now. They were coming in through the front just as I was getting to the elevator, and it’ll be obvious what you were doing if they find you. It’s better to be caught running and have the reason be implied – photos of your smeared makeup and wrinkled shirt will always look bad.”

“You said I looked fine!” You laugh, grabbing Tsukki’s hand and dragging him out the door. You’re both halfway down the hall to the far door, jogging hand in hand, when you hear the shutter of her camera. You turn back, finding her smiling playfully.

“I still have a job to do, you know!”

Your laughter echoes through the hall, and even Tsukki’s smothering a grin as you take the stairs to the fire exit. You rush with him across the quad, a few people spotting you and taking blurry pictures. You make it to his car in record time, your shared laughter growing when he drives by a group of reporters looking around the quad in confusion.

He drives you back to your apartment, the tension between you eased significantly. But it’s still there, lingering in your mind.

What had he meant when he said he would prove you wrong?

“Tsukki,” You say when he’s stopped at the red light near your apartment. “Earlier, when you said you would prove me wrong… What did you…” You trail off, wondering if you’re really ready to hear his answer.

He doesn’t answer for a long moment, and you think that maybe he’s not going to speak at all.

“There’s a party on Saturday night – after the game,” He says abruptly, and you have no clue what this has to do with anything.

“Okay?”

“Wanna go?”

“Oh.” You blink. “Isn’t Saturday Halloween?”

“Conveniently enough.”

“Sure. Should-” You clear your throat, suddenly feeling a bit out of place. You’re not sure if things are the same with him after what had happened in the lecture hall, and you’re definitely not sure why he won’t answer your question. “Should we dress up?”

He breathes out a laugh. “Am I allowed to go as a player for the Sendai Frogs?”

“Oh, God,” You groan, rolling your eyes. “Way to be cliche.”

“Fine. You pick the costumes, and I’ll buy them.” He pulls into your lot, right up to the permanent group of reporters that just sit outside your apartment all day. The flashing lights start almost immediately, and he leans over the middle console, stopping you from getting out of the car.

He tucks your hair behind your ear, and you already know that the photos being taken are capturing the line of hickies on your throat. He smirks when you give him a knowing look, only leaning in and pushing his lips against yours.

When he leans away, his gaze falls to your throat. He takes in the skin there, his thumb brushing over the already-purple marks. And then he meets your eyes, that dominant look from earlier peeking through again. Your breath catches when you see it, but he only narrows his eyes when he sees you searching his face. His thumb taps twice against your throat.

“Don’t cover these up.”

You swallow, brows furrowed. “Why?”

He leans in, planting another quick kiss on your mouth. “How about you go look in a mirror? Might help.”

You suppose that’s as close to an answer as you’re going to get tonight.

–

You start to realize that maybe Tsukki hadn’t been fucking with you.

When you stare into your bathroom mirror every morning for the rest of the week, fixing your hair and clothes and makeup but leaving the skin on your throat untouched, you start to enjoy seeing the bruises there. These little reminders that it had been him that had put them there, that he had done this to you of his own free will. It makes you wonder if maybe he feels the same way when he sees them on you.

You get the feeling he does. His eyes flick to the purple bruises when he picks you up on Wednesday and every day after – the corner of his lips tug up, like he’s smug that the evidence is still there. Like he’s glad to show you off, those marks on your skin more of a claim on you than most forms of PDA.

The photos of you go a little viral for a few hours that first day, with the accompanying mix of supportive and hateful comments.

[2:33 PM] tsukkiyn4life : LOOK AT HER!!! I WANT WHAT THEY HAVE !!!!!!

[3:04 PM] keisolostan : god shes such an attention whore lmao, concealer exists girlie

[3:25 PM] sendaiynfan : no bc him marking his girl up like that is so tsukki-coded. bbygirls so lucky

[4:17 PM] tsukkisgirl : the way i would just pretend she doesnt exist if i saw that fine ass man in the wild

[4:29 PM] frogsfan101 : she cant even make hickies look good, jesus. so trashy

You’ve learned that you’re not strong enough yet to ignore how those tweets make you feel, so you keep your notifications off for the week. Unfortunately, Tsukki handles haters a little differently – he’s using his new media presence to retweet hateful comments with even worse responses, things along the lines of ‘ you seem like one of those girls who jumpscares guys when she takes her makeup off’ and ‘ is one of your parents absent, by chance? just wondering’ .

Management’s not in love with him using his platform like this – because he’s been doing it from the very beginning – but it turns out that Tsukishima Kei fans are eating this particular incident up, his popularity skyrocketing with every new instance of brutally defending his girlfriend online. Fan accounts create Twitter threads of every heinous thing he’s ever said, and you even see that one of his responses is trending by Thursday afternoon–

‘ maybe put down the thirst account dedicated to my hands and go touch grass – my hands are a little busy with yn anyway :))’

He’d attached a photo that he’d taken on Tuesday morning in his car. Your bare legs are in the frame, the hem of your skirt barely visible. His hand is wrapped around your thigh, fingers kneading at your skin. Your manicured hand – seen in other photos this week – rests on his wrist, making it clear that it is indeed you.

Tsukki had made it his wallpaper, the time stamped across your knee in that photo he’d attached to the tweet.

You sit at the edge of your bed your face in your hands. You can’t tell if you want to kiss him or kill him. Your phone buzzes with an incoming call, and you lift it to your ear without looking.

“If you’re not Shimizu Kiyoko, please hang up.”

“ You cheating on me? ”

Your eyes fly open. “You stupid fucker.”

Tsukki laughs on the other end. “ So, you’ve seen my tweet, then .”

“Are you kidding me? Why did you make that your wallpaper? Why did you post it?” You groan, throwing yourself back on your bed. “That’s so embarrassing.”

“ Which part? Because I’m personally a fan. ”

“Yeah, of course you are. It’s not your thighs all over the internet right now.”

“ Well… ”

You roll your eyes. You’d forgotten about all the thirst accounts – his hands, his thighs, his shoulders, his eyes. There’s even an account solely dedicated to every time his shirt rises a little bit during a game.

“Yeah, okay. Fine. You win. What do you want?”

His laugh sends a little shiver down your spine. “ Have you decided what we’re wearing on Saturday? ”

“Shit,” You breathe. “I forgot.”

“ Let’s decide now, then. I’ll order overnight shipping .”

You roll over, the embarrassment of Tsukki’s tweet still heating your cheeks but otherwise pushed aside. You pull up different costume websites, searching through their options and describing them to him.

“We could be ketchup and mustard bottles.”

“ Was that a serious suggestion? ”

“How about Beauty and the Beast ?”

“ I want you to turn on Facetime and say that again with a straight face. ”

It goes on for the better half of an hour, Tsukki shooting down every choice. In his defense, though, you are suggesting absurd couples’ costumes.

“ For fuck’s sake, Y/n, pick something normal! ” He finally snaps, amusement lacing in his voice.

You laugh loudly into your pillow. “I can’t find anything! The only normal couples’ costumes are all super sexy.”

“ Okay, good! Finally, fuck. That’s normal! ” He sighs loudly through the receiver. “ What do they have? ”

You scroll carefully through the images of sexy pairings, trying to find the least humiliating thing.

“Wow, this is terrible.”

“ Use your words, sweetheart, ” He taunts, and you’re glad he can’t see how your face warms.

“Sexy nurse and doctor,” You start, hearing him hum in contemplation. “Cat and dog-”

“ Christ ,” He mutters. “ That one’s bad. ”

“Butler and maid,” You continue. “Teacher and schoolgirl– Ew -”

“ Wait, wait, go back ,” He interrupts. “ Butler and maid’s not bad .”

“Tsukki,” You laugh. “This skirt is so short that I can see the model’s ass cheeks.”

“ Send it to me. It can’t be that bad. ”

You text him the link, scrolling through other options while he opens the website.

“ Whoops, ” He says after a few minutes. Your heart stops, because you know that tone.

“What did you do?” You ask, groaning when he just laughs.

“ I accidentally bought it- ”

“Accident, my ass!”

“ Yes, definitely, ” He agrees. “ Definitely your ass – that much is true. ”

“Tsukki!” You complain. “You don’t even know my size!”

“ Yes, I do. ” He sounds mildly affronted. “ I pay attention. ” When you just bury your face in your pillow and sigh, he mutters a comment to himself. “ And I will certainly be paying attention to you in this outfit. ”

“I’m going to kill you.”

–

“I’m going to kill him.” You stare at yourself in the mirror on Friday night, wondering how much of a chance you have of getting out of this party.

The maid costume is as short as you’d predicted. To his credit, Tsukki had, in fact, known your size. But the skirt is so short that you can feel the cold air against your ass, even in the tiny shorts that had come with the outfit. It’s also snug around your tummy, the corset tight and pushing your breasts up until they start to spill out of the top a little bit.

You snatch your phone off the couch, Facetiming Tsukki with annoyance rising in your chest.

He’s at the Frogs’ gym when he answers, the screech of tennis shoes on the gym floor loud and the sound of Kyoutani and Koganegawa bickering even louder.

“ Hey-Woah- ” Tsukki’s eyes go wide when he sees the little maid’s bonnet on your head. “ Outfits came in, huh? ”

“I’m gonna kick your ass,” You say resolutely. You haven’t shown him the full dress, keeping the camera on your face. But you see his eyes drop to the lacy choker that peeks into the frame, interest lighting up his eyes.

“ Am I gonna need to be alone to see this? ” He asks, his gaze still on your throat.

“No fucking point in that, Tsukishima,” You snap, catching the flick of his eyes to yours before he drops them again. “The whole school’s gonna see my tits and ass tomorrow night, anyway.”

“ I’m sure you’re exaggerating, ” He says, but you can see him moving off to the side anyway, his back against the wall so no one can see what he’s looking at. “ Lemme see, princess .”

“Don’t you dare sweet-talk me, Kei. I’m upset with you.”

“ Yeah, I know. It’s kind of hot .”

“Tsukki!” You stomp your foot, knowing he’s heard it when he laughs.

“ Show me, damn it! I only have two more minutes of break! ”

You sigh in irritation, swallowing the nerves that have been building up and flipping the camera to show the mirror.

“See? It’s too short, Tsukki.” You turn side to side slowly for a minute, wondering why he’s not responding. He just stares, eyes wide and flitting all around the screen. “Please say something,” You whisper, frowning at the mirror.

“ Don’t- ” He finally says, swallowing. “- pout at me like that .”

You frown harder. “Can we get something else?”

“ No, absolutely not, ” He laughs weakly. “ And I will pay you any amount of money to wear that on a regular basis. ”

“God, I want to kill you so much right now,” You sigh, turning to look at yourself in the mirror. “Look!” You point at where the skirt ends in the back, the little shorts peeking out. “Look at that! My whole ass is out!”

“ Oh, I’m looking ,” He says, nodding. “ Face forward again for me, princess. There’s something I wanna see there, too .”

You roll your eyes, knowing he’s talking about how your breasts sit in the dress. “Celibacy is not a good look on you, Tsukki-”

“ Don’t make me come over there, Y/n ,” He says, his voice distracted but clearly annoyed. You just laugh, hoping he can’t see the flush in your cheeks.

“What’re you gonna do, Tsukki? Come over and just look ?”

“ Why? Will you let me? ”

Your stomach flips, and you accidentally let out a high-pitched laugh, laced with nerves. “You’re stupid.”

He’s already smirking, seeing right through you. “ I wouldn’t mind taking a few pictures… ”

You shake your head furiously. “No way. Uh-uh. I don’t need this ending up on Twitter, too.”

“ You’re funny, thinking I’d ever let anyone see you like this. ”

“Hello?” You wave your arm in the mirror. “Party tomorrow? Whole school? Remember?”

“ It’ll be dark, and everyone will be drunk ,” He says, still staring at your chest. “ And you’ll be with me. No problem. ”

“I hate you.”

“ Yo, Tsukki- ” Kyoutani’s voice appears way too close to the phone, and you gasp, turning the camera away from the mirror. “ We gotta get back. ”

“ What? ” Tsukki presses the phone quickly to his chest, the screen only showing his white t-shirt. “ Okay. ”

There’s a silence, followed by Kyoutani’s suspicion. “... What’re you looking at? ”

“ Nothing. ”

“ Is that Y/n? ”

“No. Yes. Go away.”

“Holy shit, were those her nudes?”

You curl up on the couch, waiting for death to take you away.

“ No, you fucking idiot-”

“Tsukki’s looking at nudes! ” Kyoutani calls, his voice echoing throughout the gym. You groan, hearing their teammates start to clap and cheer, varied versions of ‘ let’s go, Tsukki! ’ audible through the phone.

“I’m gonna burn this dress,” You mutter, Tsukki’s face finally coming back into view.

“ Don’t even think about it. I’ll be there in an hour. ” He’s moving across the room, and the last thing you see before he hangs up is his hand coming down on the back of Kyoutani’s head.

–

By the time he gets to your apartment, you’ve already changed back into normal clothes, the dress laid out on your bed. He eyes it when you let him in, clearly interested.

“No chance of seeing it again tonight?”

“Not even a little one,” You say, unpacking the Chinese food he’d picked up. “And you better put that thought away, because I invited Kiyoko and Yamaguchi over.”

He groans dramatically, despite knowing fully well that this is always the plan on Friday nights. “How am I supposed to seduce you with them here?”

You shove a few cans of beer into his hands, waving him back to the living room. “You don’t. That’s why I invited them.”

Just on time, there’s a knock at your door. Tsukki lets them in with a loud sigh.

“You guys are interrupting my maid time.”

Kiyoko stands in the doorway, eyes on yours and disgust curling her lip. “Should we come back later?”

You laugh, beckoning them to the couch. “He’s mad about my costume for tomorrow.”

“God damn , Y/n!” Yamaguchi exclaims, seeing the outfit on your bed. “That might as well be lingerie.”

“Hey,” Tsukki says, snapping his fingers. “Only I get to look at the lingerie, you sick fuck.” He stands, shoving the dress away in your closet. Yamaguchi meets your eye with a grin as he takes the armchair.

“You two are nice and flirty tonight.”

Kiyoko takes the end of the couch, leaving you in the middle. “He’s in rare form,” She agrees, smirking knowingly. You just roll your eyes.

“I think he’s in heat or something. He needs to see a doctor.”

Tsukki throws himself down beside you, sighing. “Let’s talk about something else before I throw you two out so I can see it on her.”

Yamaguchi’s quick to choose a movie, and you spend the first ten minutes elbowing Kiyoko because she won’t stop snickering under her breath.

The night passes normally, the movie bad and the food good. The normal amount of laughter is shared, and the normal amount of drinking happens. There are no deviations from every other Friday night.

No deviations, that is, except for the hand that Tsukki slides between your blanket-hidden thighs sometime after his second beer. Your breath catches, and you have to feign a cough when Kiyoko glances at you in confusion.

You look up at Tsukki in alarm – his eyes are lidded and he’s staring at the TV like nothing’s out of place. But you know he knows exactly what he’s doing, because his fingers knead at the plush skin of your inner thigh, and his thumb traces delicate circles into your leg.

You wait until there’s a loud explosion on the screen to whisper up to him. “ What are you doing? ”

“ Nothing ,” He breathes. “ Just watch the movie. ”

You are unable to do anything of the sort, alcohol thrumming in your veins and your attention wholly captured by the drag of his fingertips against your skin. You shiver when his nails scratch gently at the underside of your thigh, and you hear him breathe out a quiet laugh. Your hand curls around his wrist when you feel his fingertips accidentally brush a little too high, a little too close to the hem of your shorts.

“ I think you need to drink water ,” You mutter to him. He doesn’t respond, only finding the hem again. Your stomach fills with butterflies, because there’s no way to call that an accident, especially when he shifts his hand up and slips his fingers past the edge of your shorts. Your skin bursts out in goosebumps, and your other hand flies to his knee, his sweatpants curled up in your fist.

“ Tsukki, ” You hiss, spotting the smirk that pulls at the edge of his lips.

He squeezes your thigh one last time before drawing his hand away, and then he stands from the couch, mumbling to the group. “Gonna get water.”

Your heart races in your chest the entire time he’s gone, but you just scoot close to Kiyoko and lean your head on her shoulder. She glances down at you briefly, attention still on the terrible acting on the screen.

“You good?”

“Yeah,” You breathe, swallowing hard. “All good.”

Your phone buzzes on the couch, and you glance at it subtly.

[10:52 PM]

Tsukki: come here.

Those butterflies in your navel explode, and your legs shake when you stand from the couch. “ Water ,” You mumble pathetically, all but stumbling around the corner.

He’s leaning against the counter, a cup of water in his hand and another sitting beside him on the granite. He says nothing while you reach for it, only keeping his eyes on yours. You swallow, the eye contact clouding your thoughts a little.

“Tsukki,” You whisper, pleading silently for him to explain what’s just happened. He just puts the cup down and turns, leaning in and trapping you against the corner of the counter. You stare up at him with wide eyes, clutching the cup to your chest.

“What, Y/n?” He sighs, refusing to look away. “What are you confused about?”

“Why you touched me-”

“No, sweetheart,” He laughs quietly. You can smell the alcohol on his breath. “I haven’t touched you yet. Not at all.”

Your face flushes, in full view for him to see, and you watch a smile form on his lips. You swallow hard, fighting to keep your wits about you. “You’ve had too much to drink.”

He levels you with a look of disbelief. “Two beers is hardly too much.”

“I-” Your eyes flick between his, trying to find something – anything – that will tell you what’s going on.

But Tsukki just lets his gaze drop to your lips. You genuinely consider letting him kiss you.

Yamaguchi’s voice rings out from around the corner, full of amusement.

“ You two better not be fucking in there! ”

You jump, sloshing water on your shirt. Tsukki just takes a step back, watching you as you fumble to dry it, your face an unflattering crimson red. You leave the room when you’re done, not strong enough to meet his eyes.

You stumble back to the couch, nearly landing in Kiyoko’s lap when you throw yourself down. You can feel her looking at you, but you just hug her arm to your chest and hide your face in her shoulder, your water left unattended on the table. She says nothing, and Tsukki returns a moment later.

He sits a safe distance away for the rest of the night.

–

You sit in bed for hours the next morning, staring at the ceiling until it’s getting a little too close to the time that Yamaguchi said he’d pick you and Kiyoko up.

What are you supposed to do about Tsukki? Is he going to do that again? Is all the work you’ve put in to hide your attraction to him just going to crumble away? What’s going to happen if he figures out that he affects you the way he does? Is he going to laugh in your face, or will he reject you nicely?

A quiet ding rings out next to your head. You jump, worried that it’s Yamaguchi saying he’s here already, and reach for your phone.

[11:09 AM]

Tsukki : stop thinking so hard about this

Your heart clenches, and you’re overwhelmed with a need to hear his voice. To figure this out now, before you go insane.

You press call before you can think about it. He answers on the second ring.

“ Y/n? ”

“I don’t know how to stop thinking so hard,” You say, swinging your legs over the edge of the bed and sitting there. “I’m not good at that.”

“ I know. You never have been. ”

“I just…” You chew on your bottom lip. “We had rules that I could follow. And now I don’t know what the rules are.”

“ No rules, Y/n. We don’t need rules. ”

“We do!” You cry, pulling your knees up to your chest. “We do, or else I’m going to get confused.”

“ What’s so confusing? ” He sounds frustrated. “ That I think you’re hot and want to put my hands on you? Or that you like when I do? Which part is confusing? ”

Your breath hitches. He…

There’s no way he means what you think he means.

“Tsukki-”

“ Don’t fucking brush off what I just said ,” He snaps. “ Don’t do it. ”

You swallow. “I just… It’s just hard to believe.”

“ Look. ” He sighs roughly. “ You trust me, right? ”

“Yes. Obviously,” You rub at your brow, your head starting to hurt a little. “But I’m not your-”

“ Fuck who my type is, Y/n! It doesn’t matter! ”

“It does matter!” You say, growing overwhelmed. “It matters , Tsukki! What if I…” You sigh, giving up.

“ What if you what? Say it.” When you don’t, he finishes your sentence for you. “ What if you what , Y/n? What if you fall for me? ”

“Yes.” You curl your fingers into your sheets, nerves flooding your system. “What if I fall for you, Tsukki? That’s a real possibility, and it’s stressing me out, because I don’t want to lose you.”

He’s silent for a moment, a moment where your whole world crashes down on you. You’ve said too much, then. You’ve said too much, and he’s trying to figure out how to let you down.

You whisper into the phone, trying to find some way to fix this. “Tsukki-”

“ Don’t, ” He snaps. “ Give me a second. I’m trying very hard not to pick a fight with you right now. ”

Your jaw drops. “What?”

“ Y/n, you’re so fucking- ” He sighs angrily. “ What is with you and thinking that it is just completely impossible that this could be reciprocated? ”

You stare down at nothing, speechless. His voice is sharp when he speaks.

“ I know you have body image issues, and that there are assholes everywhere making it worse. But you fucking suck at listening to me. I’m sitting here telling you I’m attracted to you, and you can’t be fucking bothered to hear me. ” He lets out a breath, and you wonder why it sounds kind of nervous. “ It is a real fucking possibility that I fall for you, too. I’m telling you to just trust me , Y/n. We will deal with whatever happens – whenever it happens – but I can’t keep doing this with you. You ignore the shit I say and act like I’m doing you a fucking service every time I breathe in your direction. Cut it the fuck out. ”

Your lip trembles, your eyes prickling with tears. “You’re kind of mean, you know that?”

“ Yes, I know that. And you’re kind of annoying. ”

“I know.”

He sighs on the other end. “ We don’t need rules, Y/n. If we keep going back and forth like this, we’re not gonna convince anyone we’re together. Stop fucking thinking so hard and just do what you want. ”

He’s right. You know he’s right. But it’s terrifying.

You don’t respond, just wiping your eyes pitifully.

“ Listen, ” He pauses, letting out a breath. There’s less heat in his voice now. “ I have to go. ”

“Oh,” You say, sitting up and peering into the kitchen for the time. “Shit, I didn’t mean to keep you.”

“ It’s fine. It was important. ” There’s a creak of a door on the other end, and then noise fills the receiver as he enters the next room, likely filled with his teammates. “ But… You’ll still be here, right? ”

“Of course,” You say weakly, standing. “But I gotta get ready in the next two minutes, or Yamaguchi will leave my ass behind.”

His laugh is quiet, and it eases your heart more than it should. “ Alright. Just… think about it.”

You stare down at your phone for a moment after he hangs up, still processing what’s just been done. What he’s just admitted to you.

And then Yamaguchi does text, and you forget all about these complicated feelings in your rush to get dressed. But, once you’re safely in the back seat and idly listening to Yamaguchi and Kiyoko ramble about nothing in particular, you get lost in your thoughts, coming to terms with everything he’d said.

You text him. Because he deserves an answer.

[11:42 AM]

You : meet me outside in ten?

He doesn’t respond, but he is standing outside when you and your friends arrive. He’s past the barricade, still being photographed but out of earshot and safe from the reporters’ questions. You rush up to him, seeing that Kiyoko is tugging Yamaguchi in the other direction, the freckled boy clearly confused about why he can’t say hi to his roommate. He seems to understand after a moment, his quiet ‘ Oh! ’ fading in the distance as Kiyoko pulls him inside.

You shake your head, turning back to Tsukki. He’s already looking at you expectantly, so you sigh and plant your hand on his chest, ignoring the camera flashes behind you.

“I thought about it,” You say, your voice quiet. He visibly perks up, shifting his weight and watching you carefully. “And… it’s going to take a lot of convincing, Tsukki.” When he furrows a brow, you swallow. “I just- There’s a lot that I won’t be able to believe right away. I’ve got my own shit, and all the negative attention doesn’t help. But I’m going to try, because I do trust you.”

He seems to realize where this is going – his eyes search your face, but you cut him off as he’s opening his mouth to speak.

“I’m going to try,” You repeat. “I’m going to try this without rules.” You watch as his face changes, not quite a smile but definitely pleased.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Because I know you’re right. And it’s not okay for me to keep doing this to you.” Your fingers curl into his shirt, and you sigh. “But, Tsukki, for fuck’s sake, if I fall for you and you don’t let me down nicely, I will fucking kill you.”

“God, I can’t wait to prove you wrong,” He laughs. “You’re fucking insane.”

You roll your eyes, using your grip to pull him down to you. His gaze drops to your lips, and you lean forward, closing the distance.

“ Good luck today ,” You whisper against his mouth. Both his hands cup your face, and you’re forced up onto your tiptoes as he rises to full height. The air is filled with the sound of camera shutters, but you just cling to the front of his uniform. He breaks the kiss for only a moment, and you whisper one last comment.

“And you better not be expecting me to put out tonight just because my costume’s skimpy.”

He lets out a surprised laugh, shaking his head as he kisses you again.

“Damn. Now I’m too distracted to play.”

–

“Does this look okay?” You ask, stepping out of the bathroom. Kiyoko’s touching up her hair in the mirror by the door, her nurse’s outfit and your maid’s outfit equally short. She eyes you in the reflection, and then her pigtails swing as she spins in place to face you.

“Wow. You look so slutty.”

You give her an exasperated look. “Do I? Are my tits out?”

“Incredibly out,” She says, staring at how they spill out of the corset. She gestures for you to turn in place, whistling low when she spots how short the skirt is. “Oh, yeah. Tsukki’s gonna love you in this.”

Your face heats. “ Yeah, I know, ” You mumble to yourself, but you know she’s heard it when you meet her eyes.

“Pardon?”

“I, uh-” You scratch at your nose. “-showed it to him already.” When she only lifts her brows in disbelief, you look away. “Yesterday. I tried it on and called him.”

“Jesus, Y/n,” She says, laughing. “You might as well just fuck him already.”

“No!” You cry, hiding your face in your hands. “Things are still the same! They’re just-” You smile lamely. “-a little blurry now.”

“Holy shit,” She says, stepping up to you. Her face is lit up with surprise. “You actually want to fuck him.”

“Hey! You can’t just put it like that!”

“Does he want to fuck you?”

“Kiyoko!”

“Oh, my God, he does!”

There’s a knock at the door, and you have to cover Kiyoko’s mouth with your hand so that Tsukki and Yamaguchi don’t hear her yell ‘ You guys are totally gonna fuck tonight! ’.

When you yank the door open, Yamaguchi’s jaw drops.

“Holy-” He glances over your shoulder, seeing Kiyoko, too. “ Holy- ” He sputters. “You two look so fucking good!” He gestures down at himself, his zombie outfit not slutty in the least. “I look so bland now!”

Kiyoko reaches for the side table in the living room, withdrawing a pair of scissors. She snaps them twice, staring down at Tadashi’s ripped, fake-blood-covered pants. “We can change that, if you want.”

The freckled boy eyes her with suspicion, but it grows quickly into excitement. “Is it bad that I wanna say yes?”

You laugh, pulling him into your apartment. “Go, Yamaguchi. Release your inner slut.”

He giggles, following Kiyoko to the bathroom, and you’re left with Tsukki. The door clicks shut behind you, the sound sending a shock of electricity down your spine. You turn in the foyer, finding him hovering over you. The tux for the butler’s outfit fits him perfectly, down to the tie and white silk gloves. His blond hair is gelled in a side-part, a single piece of hair falling between his eyes.

“Hi. You look nice,” You croak, still recovering from the conversation this morning.

All throughout the game, you’d been struck, in waves, by the reality of what he’d said to you. That he’s attracted to you, that it’s okay for you to be attracted to him, too. You’d watched him move on the court – his brow furrowed, his eyes sharp, his blocks strong – and you’d been overwhelmed by just how attractive he is. Like there’d been some kind of wall there before, keeping you from experiencing the full extent of him, because you weren’t allowed to want him.

There, at the game, and even now, your body had been overrun by butterflies, their wings all beating in time and lingering deep in your skin. And there was an electric hum in your veins when he’d found your eyes at the game – the same hum that makes your skin feel alive right now, with him standing so close to you.

“Hi,” He says, stepping toward you and letting his eyes trail freely down the length of your body. From your little bonnet all the way down to the black, open-toe pumps on your feet, his gaze eats you up, those golden eyes hot on your skin.

“Do I look okay?” You whisper, hearing Yamaguchi and Kiyoko’s laughter in the bathroom as she yells at him to stay still. The sound echoes in your apartment, but the air between you and Tsukki is so quiet.

He meets your eyes, his brows tenting in amusement. “What?”

“Do you…” Your eyes flick between his, open and vulnerable. “...think I look okay?”

He takes another step, forcing you back. Another, and then another, until your back’s pressed against the wall in your foyer. And then he leans down, flattening his hand against the wall by your head. You watch, barely breathing, as his eyes drop to your choker.

“I think,” He says, barely above a whisper. “You should ask me again at the party.”

You swallow, frowning slightly. “Why?”

When his eyes meet yours, that humming grows in your veins.

“Because,” He says, his smile teasing. “Our friends are in the next room.” His other hand reaches out, brushing your hair off of your bare shoulder. “And I don’t think they’d like what I have to say about you in this dress.”

Your breath is shallow and your eyes flutter shut, the heat of his body melting away your resolve. You nod, keeping your eyes closed for your own good.

The bathroom door opens, and you draw in a breath of relief, prying your eyes open. Tsukki’s leaning against the opposite wall calmly, tilting his head to watch Yamaguchi come out of the bathroom behind you.

“Look!” Tadashi giggles, strutting out to the living room. You turn, meeting Tsukki’s eyes shakily for a moment before redirecting your attention to the boy posing behind your couch. Kiyoko’s cut his pants into extremely short shorts, and his shirt’s been turned into a crop-top, some of the makeup from his pants smeared on his newly exposed skin.

You whistle appreciatively, applauding a proud Kiyoko. “Appropriately slutty. Ten out of ten.”

“Careful,” Tsukki mumbles while your friends collect their things to leave. “I’m feeling a little left out over here.”

You turn, taking his face in one of your hands and smiling mischievously. “You’re not allowed to join the Slut Party – I don’t want to have to rip anyone’s hair out tonight.”

He just smirks down at you, following the three of you out.

The frat house where the party’s happening is only a few blocks from your apartment, so you decide to walk. The guys at the door claim to let you all in for free because of Tsukki, but you can feel their eyes on your ass as you pass by. When Tsukki looks decently annoyed by it, you just shrug up at him.

“No one told you to buy this for me-”

“ Tsukki! ”

You turn to the sound, finding Kyoutani and Koganegawa leaving the pop-up bar in the corner of the main room. Kyoutani’s dressed as a doctor, and Koganegawa – predictably – is wearing his Frogs uniform. You shoot Tsukki a meaningful look, grinning when he mutters ‘ Yeah, alright. It’s cliche’ in your ear.

The four of you meet Tsukki’s teammates at the edge of the dance floor, Tsukki disappearing to get you both drinks. Kyoutani looks you over with appreciation.

“Damn, Y/n!” He yells over the music. “You really know what you’re doing with all that!” He gestures vaguely to your body, shrugging when Yamaguchi blatantly glares at him. “It’s a compliment!”

You laugh, always a bit fond of Kyoutani’s blunt personality. “It’s good to see you, too, Ken,” You say, pointing at Kiyoko. “And you two match!”

It seems this is the first time he’s seeing the girl standing at your shoulder. You watch his eyes go wide as they trail down her body.

“Oh-” He says, coughing slightly. “Hi. Wow.”

Kiyoko gives him a side-glance, always one for a little Cat-and-Mouse. “Hi.”

He recovers quickly, sidling up to her. “I’m Kentarou,” He says, smiling handsomely. But Kiyoko just lifts an unimpressed eyebrow.

“I know. We’ve met, like, eight times.”

He blinks, looking her over. And then his jaw drops. “Holy shit – Kiyoko?! ” He sputters, flushing when Yamaguchi laughs at him. “It’s just- You’re always- Holy shit.”

Kiyoko rolls her eyes and turns her back to him with a flick of her ponytail. But you can see the blush starting to dust over her cheeks, and her disinterested half-smile is starting to look a little too satisfied. You meet her eyes knowingly, and she nudges you.

“ Shut up ,” She mumbles. “ You’re the one that wants to sleep with your best friend .”

You bark out a laugh of disbelief, nudging her back. Yamaguchi throws his arms around both of you.

“Can one of you please dance with me?” He yells over the music, already bouncing in place. “I want to be trashed and making out with a stranger by the end of the night!”

Kiyoko takes his hand and leads him to the middle of the dance floor, leaving you with a dumbstruck Kyoutani, and Koganegawa, who’s suspiciously quiet.

Probably because he’s staring right at your chest, his lips parted in awe.

“Kanji,” You say, a little reprimanding.

He swallows, meeting your eyes. “Hi. Sorry. Uh-” His eyes drop to the tops of your breasts again, watching how they swell over the top of your corset. “You-Hi.” He lifts his eyes to yours, realizing he’d been caught again. “Sorry-” And then he looks over your shoulder, his eyes going wide. “Uh-”

An arm slips around your waist, pulling you back against a chest. You look down, seeing the gloved hand that holds a red Solo cup full of liquid.

“Oh-” You look up at Tsukki, finding him staring at Koganegawa with thinly veiled irritation. “You got us drinks!”

He doesn’t respond, only handing you the drink in his other hand. His eyes narrow on his teammate’s, and Koganegawa blinks rapidly.

“I-Oh-Are you two…” He lowers his voice. “I thought you weren’t-”

You put two fingers on his mouth, shutting him up. “Kanji!” You say, frowning at him.

He blushes, looking around to see who’s around. “Sorry… I’ll just-” He gestures vaguely behind him and wanders off. Kyoutani stares down at the arm Tsukki has around you and then flicks his gaze up over your head. His lips stretch in a knowing smirk.

“Interesting…” He says, looking between the two of you. And then he shoots you a downward smile, shrugging as he turns away. “Very interesting.”

You turn, Tsukki’s arm still tight around your waist. “You scared your friend off!”

He shrugs. “He was looking a little too hard.”

You pull him out to where your friends are, trying not to let him see you blush. But the butterflies in your stomach are already fluttering nervously, because you have no way to know how this night’s going to go.

–

“You should probably know,” You hiccup, giggling into Tsukki’s shoulder. “That it definitely looks like you’re keeping me in this corner whispering horny shit in my ear.”

Tsukki laughs, low and against your skin, his hand only pulling you closer to him.

You stand in a dark hallway on the edge of the main room, your hands curled into the front of his tux and his hands anchored on your waist. You can see the dance floor, but the lights are off and you’re more than a little bit drunk, so the room is a haze of bodies and loud, thumping bass. You can see some people glancing with interest at the two of you, but it’s easy to ignore.

Your attention is more drawn to Yamaguchi whispering suggestively in the ear of Lev Haiba , of all people. You spy on your friend, ignoring the gentle brush of Tsukki’s lips against your throat.

“Well, I could start saying horny shit, if you’d like,” He mumbles, but you just pat him on the shoulder and point over to Yamaguchi.

“Is Tadashi about to bag a model? Look, look-”

Tsukki glances over his shoulder, quickly returning to the task of nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck. “Is it possible to check in about that in the morning, maybe? I’m a little distrac-”

You gasp loudly, smacking Tsukki’s shoulder hard. “ Look , Tsukki!”

He turns with a sigh, following your finger to where Kiyoko is being pressed up against the far wall by Kyoutani, his tongue halfway down her throat.

“Oh-” Tsukki mumbles, blinking to clear his drunken vision. “Damn, that’s kind of crazy.”

You giggle to yourself. “Oh, that bitch is gonna be hearing from me tomo- mm- ”

Tsukki squeezes your cheeks between his fingers. “Hey. You’re not paying enough attention to me.”

You look up at him, eyes wide, and start to laugh. It’s difficult with the way he’s holding you. “Oh, I’m sorry. Are you getting jealous?” You smile as wide as you can when he glares down at you. “What would make you feel better?”

He releases your face, wrapping his arms back around your waist and drawing you close to him again. “Ask me what I think of your outfit. I never answered you.”

You breathe in the alcohol on his tongue, your head swimming. “I think I know what you think of it.” You gesture down to where he’s playing with the edge of the skirt, his knuckles skimming against your thigh.

His lips brush against yours when he mumbles, “ Ask me .”

You card your fingers through his hair, tilting your head up to kiss him. “ Okay ,” You whisper. “ What do you think of the dress, Tsukki? ”

He dips his head, pushing his lips against yours and nipping softly at your bottom lip. “I think…” He glances down the hall, and you spot an open door a few feet away, hidden in the dark. “I think I wanna take you in there and show you.”

Your skin hums with that electricity he’s so damn good at spilling into your veins.

“ So do it .”

His eyes sharpen at your words, and you’re hoisted up in an instant. You laugh loudly, wrapping your legs around his waist and burying your face in his neck while he carries you down the hall. The door shuts behind him when he brings you into the room, and the loud, pounding music is muffled significantly.

“Finally, some peace and quiet,” Tsukki sighs. You glance up, finding a bed against the wall and a small couch in the corner. He walks you over to the couch, and you’re not sure if you’re more glad or disappointed that he isn’t taking this too fast.

He takes a seat, forcing you to straddle his thighs as you look down at him. His grin is smug. “What’s wrong, sweetheart? Thought I was gonna take you to bed?”

You smack him hard on the chest. “You look stupid when you’re arrogant.”

“Yeah, well, you’re here, aren’t you?” He cups the back of your neck, dragging you in. You kiss him eagerly, the alcohol giving you the courage to drop all your pretenses. He seems to be in a similar situation, because his hands are latching onto your hips and pulling you down onto his lap. You sigh at the feeling of his thighs under yours, the difference between his sculpted ones and your soft ones almost heavenly.

“‘m not too heavy, right?” You mumble, unable to help yourself. He just shakes his head, his fingers tangling in your hair.

“Not heavy enough, in my opinion,” He breathes. His mouth drops to your throat as he mutters distractedly. “Sit down properly, princess.”

You let your thighs slide open, Tsukki’s mouth curling in a grin against your skin when he feels you get comfortable in your new seat.

“See?” He sucks hard on the junction of your neck. “Maybe if you’d just listen to me sometimes, we could be doing this more often.”

“Shut up, Tsukishima,” You murmur, distracted by the drag of his tongue over that burning spot on your throat.

“Fuck-” Tsukki nibbles another bruise into your skin. “Love when you do that.” His free hand digs into your hip, fingers fanning out.

“Love when I do what?” You sigh, letting your head falling to the side a little to give him more access. When his hand slides down over your ass, his hips rocking up gently as he kneads at your skin, you breathe out a quiet moan.

He shifts his hips again. “When you say my name like that. Like you’re scolding me.” He uses the hand he has on your ass to roll your hips in, his own meeting you halfway. A groan falls past his lips when you moan, your name murmured into the column of your throat.

“You like when I scold you?” You laugh weakly, your whole body humming and the electricity flowing straight to the place where your core bumps against the growing bulge in his slacks. “Didn’t know you were into that kind of thing, Tsukki.”

He laughs, and it sends a jolt of desire to the spot below your navel. You roll your hips on your own, heart stopping when he whispers ‘ fuck’ against your ear.

“Just think it’s cute,” He says, breathless. “Always sounds like you think you’re in charge.”

So that’s what that’s about.

“I usually am,” You argue, carding your fingers through his hair and messing it up. You smile when your nails scratch against his scalp, because he shivers and tightens his grip on your hips. “I usually am in charge,” You say again when he meets your eyes, his own half-lidded.

He just grins, his other hand coming down to your waist. “Yeah?”

You feel his fingers dig into your skin, and then he’s dragging your hips against his, once and then twice. You drop your hands to his shoulders, gasping when he rocks his own hips up. He’s hard now, the slide of his hips against your core pure torture.

“How ‘bout now, sweetheart?” He teases, even though his breath catches in his throat when he rocks up against you a third time. “Still think you’re in charge?”

You press your forehead against his, your muscles weak. “This isn’t fair. This doesn’t count-”

“God, look at your pretty little doe eyes,” He says, keeping his eyes locked on yours. “Makes me wanna give you anything you ask for.”

Trembling, you struggle to keep eye contact. “Like it when you look at me,” You whisper, watching his eyes light up. “Makes it hard to focus.”

“Yeah?” His smile is smug, satisfied. “‘s unfortunate, baby – I really like looking at you.”

Your breath is sharp in your chest, your head drowning in vodka and the feeling of Tsukishima Kei.

“ Tsukki ,” You whine, begging – for what, you have no clue. But he groans, hearing exactly what you’re asking for.

“Don’t say my name like that, Y/n,” He warns. “Or I’ll take you to that bed and make you say it again.”

You whimper, your arms shaking when he slides against you in a way that sets your core on fire. “ Fuck- ” You whine when he grabs a fistful of your hair and pulls you in. His mouth is searing hot on yours, his tongue pushing past your lips. You moan into his mouth, your heart beating in places you’ve never felt with him before.

Before you can tell him that you’re thinking of letting him take you to bed, the door slams open and a giggling couple stumbles into the room.

You gasp, jumping off of Tsukki and landing in the spot next to him on the couch.

The girl that had been pulled into the room is the first to realize there are other people here.

“Oh, fuck-” She pulls away from the guy, squinting. “Oh, holy shit. Tsukishima Kei?”

Tsukki sighs, unheard as the guy spins on his heel and exclaims loudly.

“Woah! Holy shit, it’s you!”

“Unfortunately,” Tsukki mumbles, but the guy just narrows his eyes at you, taking you in properly. And then he laughs, chortling as he gestures to you.

“Wow, nice outfit.” It’s clearly not a compliment. “You look just like you do in the photos.”

“That’s usually the point,” You say weakly. You can feel Tsukki tense next to you.

The guy approaches you, squinting in the dark. His eyes scan your bare legs and the length of your skirt. Tsukki flattens his hand over where your thighs meet, because your shorts have ridden up significantly and there’s too much showing now.

“Do you mind backing the fuck away from my girlfriend?” He says, his tone clearer than it’s been all night.

“Tsukki,” You reprimand quietly, trying to fix your dress. The girl tries pulling the guy away, but he’s got his eyes on your chest.

“Damn, you got quite the rack on you.” He laughs when your face morphs into a scowl. “Too bad it’s attached to the rest of you.”

He’s just far enough that when Tsukki stands, he’s able to scamper back toward the door.

“Say it again,” Tsukki says, his presence towering over everyone in the room. “Say it again, and see what I do to you.”

“Tsukki!” You stand, reaching for him. “Cut it out. It’s fine.”

“Yeah, Tsukki ,” The guy mocks, laughing as he steps out into the hall. “Learn to take a joke. Other than your girlfriend, that is-” He cackles, dodging Tsukki’s advances and hurrying out to the crowded main room.

Tsukki follows, likely with every intent to cause harm, but you’re quick to latch onto his arm.

“ Stop it, ” You hiss, pulling him back to you. You barely manage to get him to look at you, and you just gesture around the room when he does. “Look where he brought you. Pay attention, you idiot.”

Tsukki flicks his eyes around, seeing that the guy is causing a ruckus and drawing attention to the two of you.

“What’s wrong, Tsukki ?” He asks, giggling drunkenly. “Gonna let your bitch decide what you do?”

Tsukki tenses, turning toward him, but you pull him back.

“Look at me,” You say sharply. He meets your eyes, and you shake your head. “Don’t fucking do it.”

“Aw, come on, Tsukki,” The guy says, dancing around the edge of the dance floor and pulling more eyes to the scene. “Give us a show, since you and your girl love the attention so much!” He sneers at you. “Show us how you got those hickies, darling.”

“Please let me punch him,” Tsukki mumbles to you, but you just shake your head. “Just one little punch. It would be so quick, no one would be able to film it.”

“Let’s go home,” You say. When he makes no move to leave, only shifting his eyes to the guy that’s clearly trying to get him to pick a fight, you tug on his sleeve. “Please?”

“Look at the happy couple, everyone! Our star rookie and his whale of a girlfriend, dressed like a whore-”

Tsukki sighs heatedly, and you wonder for a moment if he’s going to go through with it, but he just snatches up your hand, dragging you in the opposite direction.

“Thank you,” You whisper, nearly jogging behind him as he takes full strides to the door. There’s a yank on the skirt of your dress, and you yelp, stumbling back. When you turn, the guy’s grinning down at you, his fingers tugging on the fabric.

“Since you wanna wear something so small, let’s show everyone what’s underneath-”

He’s shoved to the side, his body slamming into the wall on your right and slumping to the floor. You gasp, thinking for a moment that the blond head flying past your face is Tsukki, but you realize that it’s Kyoutani when you see the streaks of dyed hair on his temple.

“Since you wanna put your hands on women, you won’t mind me putting mine on you, right?” He says, grinning cruelly. He’s about to reach out for him again, but Kiyoko’s pushing past him, her nurse’s cap falling off her head when she kicks the guy on the floor with all her might.

“Touch her again and see if I don’t kick your fucking teeth in-” She hisses, drawing her foot back. You gape at her, much like Kyoutani is, but his expression’s a little more lovestruck. It’s Yamaguchi that breaks through the group next, his arms belting around Kiyoko’s middle.

“Alright, you fucking menace, let’s not go to jail tonight!” He giggles, dragging her thrashing body back a few feet. He looks at Kyoutani in the struggle. “You gotta go, too. Doesn’t look good,” He says brightly, and the blond nods dumbly, still watching Kiyoko with hearts in his eyes.

You start to move to them, hating that your friends have gotten caught up in this, but Tsukki slides his arm around your waist and lifts you clean off your feet, hauling you through the door and out to the street.

“Wh-Tsukki!” You protest. “We have to go get them!”

“No, we don’t. Kiyoko’s got it covered,” He says with finality, setting you down and pulling you through the sea of reporters. They start to follow, but he turns sharply, side-stepping to put you behind him.

“Look,” He says to them. “I know you want to follow us, but could you maybe not tonight? I kinda just want to walk my girlfriend home, okay?”

The group of paparazzi just stand there, unused to Tsukishima Kei handling his annoyances with such diplomacy. He lets out a sigh and spins on his heel, taking your hand and pulling you quickly down to the street.

You stumble after him, glancing back periodically. “You think they’re actually gonna leave us alone?”

“Probably for, like, three more minutes. Walk faster.”

You don’t need to be told twice.

The walk home is silent, and you can feel his anger in the way he hunches his shoulders close to his ears and sighs at every crosswalk.

“Tsukki,” You say after a few blocks, knowing he’s holding it in. “Talk to me-”

He whirls around, forcing you to skid to a stop. “Why didn’t you let me hit him, Y/n?”

Your jaw drops, and you let out a breath of disbelief. “Tsukki, he was baiting you-”

“I don’t care. ” He steps close to you. “Do you realize how much it killed me to listen to the shit he said to you? He never would have touched you if I’d had my way.”

“Yeah, he was clearly looking for that reaction,” You reason. “With the reputation you have, he was obviously trying to rile you up so that he could get a look at the real Tsukishima Kei-” You scoff, gesturing to him. “People want to see you lose it, Tsukki.”

“Well, I almost did!” He snaps, and you set your hands on his chest to calm him down. It doesn’t work very well. “He put his fucking hands on you-”

“Tsukki, I’m fine . Look at me.” You gesture down at yourself, even grabbing his hands and setting them on your waist. “See? Look. I’m okay. Nothing’s wrong.”

He stares down at you. This seems to get his attention more, having his hands on you. You smile up at him.

“I’m okay. I promise.”

He just blinks, and you know he’s not ready to accept it. Sighing, you point down the street, only two blocks away from your apartment.

“Can we go home, please? I think those reporters are probably catching up to us.”

He holds your hand tight the whole way there.

–

“You can’t let people get to you like that, Tsukki,” You say, sighing.

You’ve just finished taking off all your makeup and changing into clothes that actually cover your body. Tsukki’s on the couch in sweats and a t-shirt, his tux crumpled on the floor and his hair mussed up and falling into his eyes. The air between you had been silent the rest of the way home and while you were getting changed. You can tell he’s calmed down a little, but he still sighs when you speak.

“I feel like it would have been warranted,” He says, shooting you a joking smirk over the back of the couch. You stand in the doorway of the bathroom, a hand on your hip.

“The whole reason we’re doing this is so that I can fix you,” You say, moving into the kitchen to get you both water. “You gonna let me fix you or not?”

“The shit he said to you was not okay, Y/n.” He shakes his head, scrolling through Twitter. You take a seat next to him, seeing that he’s looking through footage from the party.

“I know. It wasn’t fun. But you still can’t pick fights like that,” You say, running your fingers through his hair and leaning into his side. “You have too much on the line right now.”

He doesn’t say anything, just scrolling through the tweets. There’s a video of him taking a few steps toward the guy that’s laughing, but the camera catches the way you pull on his arm and bring him back to you. Tsukki’s eyes meet yours, and you can see his shoulders slump with defeat, his eyes searching your face. What you say to him is inaudible in the video, but it’s clear that his body language shifts when he looks at you.

The next video is the one of him carrying you out of the frat house. The camera catches the way you gape at Kiyoko’s anger, the way your brow furrows with concern as you start to move to her. It also catches the moment that Tsukki reaches for you, his frown deep and his arms sliding tight around your middle. You’re lifted off your feet, and you look up at him with surprise, your eyes wide and vulnerable.

The video after is the one of him facing the reporters, essentially asking in his nicest voice that they fuck off for once. His eyes are hard, swimming with anger, and his jaw is clenched, but his words are polite and his body shields you purposely.

It’s weird, seeing the moments that you’ve experienced from someone else’s point of view. But, for once, you’re glad people are seeing your life with him play out – even those who were so against you from the beginning.

[10:57 PM] tsukkiyn4life : dude was WAY out of line. yn looks smoking hot and tsukkis fighting literal demons not to put bro in the hospital but HE LISTENS TO HIS GIRL!!! GREEN FLAG!!!

[10:59 PM] numberonekei : okay even ill admit yn was on it with this one. he woulda been fucked if he’d gotten into another fight

[11:05 PM] TsukkiYnShipper : the CHOKEHOLD she must have on that man to get him to back down…. tsukishima kei is down horrendously bad

[11:07 PM] keisolostan : bro the way he talked to those reporters? who are you and what have you done with tsukishima kei

You give Tsukki a meaningful look. “Got anything to say?”

He feigns innocence. “Hospital bills are expensive, anyway?”

“Tsukki-”

“Okay, fine-” He laughs, throwing his phone down. “You were right – there. You were right. You are singlehandedly fixing the Sendai Frogs’ problem child.”

You shrug, your smile satisfied. “All in a day’s work, really. Next thing you know, you’ll be smiling at babies and petting dogs and shit.”

“You’re so stupid,” He snorts, shaking his head. And then he sighs, exhausted. “That was an extreme exercise is self-control.”

“But you did so well,” You say, cupping his face and planting a messy kiss on his cheek. “‘m proud of you.”

“Sorry, princess – I’m not much a praise kink guy,” He jokes, but you can see the flush spread across his cheeks and ears. “I’m more into punishment.”

You give a nervous laugh. “Oh, so that’s what you meant when you said cute girls can’t handle you.”

“Oh?” He says, meeting your eyes with interest. “You remember that, huh? Been thinking about it?” His lips pull into a wide, satisfied smile when you purse your lips in embarrassment. But he doesn’t push it, only sighing quietly and looking away. “I suppose I should go.”

You chew on the inside of your lip. There’s a part of you that doesn’t want him to leave, and it’s not the part you’re expecting. Even after what the two of you had done tonight, and even after the things you’d said to each other on that couch in that room, that’s not what comes to mind when you think about him staying.

You just don’t want him to go. You want him to stay. You want to keep looking at him and touching his face and listening to his stupid laugh. And, although that’s terrifying to realize, it’s what you what.

And he’d told you to do what you want.

“You don’t… have to…” You whisper finally, just as he’s starting to sit up.

His eyes find yours, and there’s a painful silence that follows. He blinks, and you blink back.

“I don’t have to… what?” He asks, although it’s clear by the way his eyes search your face with surprise that he knows exactly what you’re saying.

“Go.” You let out a shaky breath. “You don’t have to go.”

Tsukishima Kei has never stayed the night before – not alone and certainly not in the way you’re implying.

He glances over the back of the couch in the general direction of your tiny bed before looking back to you, a blush dusting over his cheeks. He goes for the safest assumption, swallowing hard. “Uh… Your couch isn’t exactly the most comfortable… thing…”

“Yeah,” You say, laughing as you stare down at your lap. “My bed’s probably not that comfortable either… for… more than just me…” You don’t dare to meet his eyes again, just tugging at a stray piece of string sticking out of your pajama shorts. When he doesn’t respond, you start to sweat. “You don’t have to stay. You can just-”

He stands abruptly, and your head flies up to watch him. He crosses the distance to your bed and throws himself under the covers, his feet sticking out at the bottom.

“Turn the lights off on your way,” He mumbles, tossing his glasses and phone on the nightstand. And then he rolls over, facing the wall.

You stare for a moment, only managing a shocked laugh as you stand and kill the lights in the living room and kitchen. You make your way to him in the dark, your heartbeat thrumming in your throat and your legs a little shaky. When you slide under the blanket, Tsukki scoots further, pressing himself against the wall to give you room. You struggle to fit on the bed with your back turned to him, half of your body hanging off the edge, but you refuse to move, just praying that you’ll fall asleep soon.

Tsukki’s head shifts a little after a moment. “Are you comfortable?” He whispers in the dark.

“Mhm,” You say. “I’m good.”

He only snickers, turning in place. “Liar.” There’s an arm sliding around your waist, and then you’re dragged across the mattress until your back presses to his chest. Your eyes go wide, staring at nothing as you feel him mold his body against yours, his face burying into the back of your neck.

“Better?” He murmurs, breath fanning out over your skin. He sounds nervous.

“I think this is worse,” You joke weakly, but you do your best to relax back into him.

You feel his smile against your neck. “‘s not so bad…” And then he presses his forehead to your shoulder, and you feel heat radiating off of his face. “Not bad,” He repeats with a sigh.

“No,” You whisper. “Not bad.”

His hand finds yours in the dark, just before you drift off to sleep.

–

You wake the next morning to a mouth full of blond hair.

Sputtering quietly, you brush it away from you, realizing in the process that the weight on your chest is Tsukki’s head. He’s splayed out on his stomach, one of his knees tucked between yours and an arm draped over your hips, his hand dangling over the edge of the bed.

You stare down at him, running your fingers through his hair very carefully. You scratch your nails against his scalp, smiling when he sighs and shifts closer. His face looks so peaceful like this, you realize – his brows aren’t furrowed and his shoulders aren’t tense.

You haven’t seen him like this in years.

Before you can read into it too much, your phone buzzes on the nightstand. You reach for it, careful not to jostle him.

[9:04 AM]

Kiyoko : i feel like i just got hit by a truck

Kiyoko : that dragged me 7 blocks before realizing i was there

You snort, typing a response with one hand.

You : are you home/alone

Kiyoko : doors unlocked

You do your best to slide out from under Tsukki, going so far as pressing your lips to the crest of his eyebrows when he starts to frown. He relaxes, rolling over and going back to sleep instantly. Quietly, you tiptoe to the kitchen and retrieve two cans of iced coffee from the fridge before slipping out the door.

Kiyoko’s in bed when you sneak into her apartment. She sits up when you take your shoes off, grinning guiltily as you stop short.

“You slutty little nurse,” You say, staring at her. Her hair’s tangled and her pajamas are only half-on, but the real clue that she’d had an overnight guest is the mass of hickies decorating her throat and chest.

She rolls her eyes, beckoning you to bed. You eye it suspiciously.

“Are the sheets clean…?”

She laughs. “Yes, you ass. I changed them before I texted you.”

You shrug, hopping into bed with her and handing her a coffee. “So? What happened after I left?”

“Kentarou walked me to my door like a respectable gentleman,” She says, sipping loudly and looking away. You just stare, waiting her out. She finally meets your eyes again, giggling.

“And then ?” You ask impatiently.

“And then…” She shrugs one marked-up shoulder. “He fucked me like an animal.”

You squeal, smacking her arm over and over again while she laughs.

“Oh, my God, Kiyoko,” You wheeze, beaming at her. “I’ve never been more proud to be your friend. Wait-” You point at the door. “Did you just make that man do the walk of shame?”

“No, of course not!” She says, leaning her back against the headboard. “Obviously, I… thanked him for his services.” She endures another round of your smacking before saying, “He’s taking me out for dinner tomorrow. Said he’d pick me up from campus and everything.”

You nudge her, grinning wide. “Look at you! Dating a pro volleyball player.”

“Maybe you can give me some tips,” She jokes, finishing off her coffee.

“He’s not pro yet,” You say, rolling your eyes. “Hopefully, he’ll make it to the end of the year without starting shit.”

Her hand pauses halfway from her mouth, the empty can hanging in her hold while she examines you. You furrow a brow.

“What?”

“I was…” She squints now. “...kidding.” You blanche, staring at her while her eyes narrow further. “You know… because you’re not actually dating?”

“Right,” You say, smiling. “I know. I was just…”

“Y/n,” She says, lowering her finished drink and gaping at you. “Are you two actually dating ?”

“No!” You say, putting your coffee down on her nightstand so you can face her. “No, we’re not. It’s like I said – we’re just not really labeling anything.”

“Not labeling-” She shakes her head. “That’s a terrible idea. That’s such a slippery slope-”

“I know! We just… We know. We’re just taking it one day at a time.” You shrug. “That’s all I’ve got, honestly. Nothing else has happened.”

As if summoned by some demonic force, your phone buzzes on the bed between you.

[9:28 AM]

Tsukki : you know

Tsukki : usually it’s ME that sneaks out the morning after

Tsukki : im the sneaker

Tsukki : not the sneak-ee

Kiyoko snatches your phone up before you can, blinking hard to make sure she’s reading that right.

“You fucked him !” She yells, smacking your arm when you take your phone back.

“No! I didn’t! We just slept!”

“Do you think I was born yesterday, young lady-”

“I swear!” You laugh, bracing for her second smack. “All we did was sleep, I swear!”

She stares, clearly disturbed. “You’ve never done that before. Sleepovers.”

You shake your head with a tight smile. “Nope. First time.”

“And all you did was sleep.”

“All we did was sleep.”

She scans you a moment longer before leaning in, as though you’re not the only people in the room. “Did you catch feelings?”

“No!” You reel back, pushing her away lightly.

“Y/n, that’s not good-”

“I didn’t !” You swallow hard, trying to push down the memory of wanting him to stay the night. Of waking up this morning with him in your arms. “I didn’t catch feelings. It was just late, and we were just tired.”

She looks like she certainly has more to say, but she thankfully drops it, only pointing at your phone. “Answer him, before he starts calling.”

His name pops up on your screen with an incoming call the second she says it.

You only hesitate a moment, meeting her eyes with an uneasy smile before pressing it to your ear. “Hello?”

You don’t fight when Kiyoko drags your arm away from your face and aggressively jabs at the button to activate the speakerphone.

“ You left, ” Tsukki says groggily, his voice echoing in Kiyoko’s apartment. “ That’s fucked up. ”

“I didn’t leave. I’m at Kiyoko’s.”

“ Oh. I guess that’s fine. Can you steal some coffee? ”

Kiyoko just rolls her eyes but keeps quiet.

“I’ll see what I can do,” You say. And then you clear your throat. “What’s the plan today?”

“ Dunno. Wanna get breakfast? ”

You push Kiyoko away when she stares at you meaningfully. “Don’t you have practice today?”

“ Mm, ” He groans, stretching and yawning loudly. “ ‘s later. I feel pretty good today. ”

“Oh-” You stare down at your phone, your brows furrowing. “Really? My bed’s not really built for two.”

“ I know, I’m surprised, too. But that’s the best I’ve slept in ages. ”

Your heart jumps, and you don’t have it in you to push Kiyoko away again when she stares right into your soul.

“Oh. I-That’s good. You should get a shitty Twin XL bed, too, then.”

He laughs low, the sound deep and satisfied. You blush when Kiyoko curls her lip in disgust – she’s never heard that laugh before, then.

“ I could do that, yeah, ” He says, shifting in bed. “ Or I could just keep sleeping in yours.”

You’re really not getting out of this one. Kiyoko’s deadpan stare burns a hole through your face. Your cheeks warm to the point of discomfort, and you pick at a piece of lint on her blanket.

“Yeah… I suppose you could.”

He’s quiet on the other end for a moment. “ Okay, ” He says, his voice a little uncertain. “ That’s that, then. ”

“That’s that.”

“ Bring coffee? ”

“I’ll see what I can do.”

“ See ya. ”

The apartment is dead silent after he hangs up. You nervously search Kiyoko’s blanket for more lint, feeling her eyes on your face.

“Do you like him, Y/n?” She says after a moment.

You just stare at your hands. “Dunno.”

“Do you realize that it sounds like he likes you?”

“I don’t know about that.”

She sighs, pulling you into her arms and planting a kiss on your temple. “So beautiful, yet so stupid. And blind. Stupid, blind, beautiful-”

“Okay, you made your point.”

–

By the time you return to your apartment, Tsukki’s washed up and sitting expectantly in bed, his back against the headboard as he taps away on his phone. He scans you when you come in.

“No coffee?”

You snort, joining him in bed. He shifts, eyeing you nervously for a moment before leaving one hand flat on the mattress and angling his body toward you. It’s clearly an invitation.

You just meet his eyes, your heartbeat suddenly strong in your chest.

And then you scoot toward him, curling up beside him and letting your knees fall over his thigh. His hand slides around your waist, pulling you comfortably against him.

“Are you sure you slept okay?” You ask, your voice cracking when you feel his thumb drawing circles in your skin.

He nods, eyes dropping to your mouth. “Wasn’t too uncomfortable for you?”

“No,” You laugh. “It was, uhm…” You trail off, feeling when he leans in. His lips are warm against yours, and you feel abnormally at ease, wrapped up in his arms like this. You card your fingers through his hair, scratching at his scalp and shivering when his other hand slides along the outside of your thigh, kneading gently.

“ You fucking liar ,” He whispers against your mouth. “ You taste like coffee. ”

You throw your head back, laughing. “I’m sorry! I grabbed some from the fridge before I went up.” And then you kiss him again before you lose your courage. “I’ll buy you coffee while we’re out.”

“My girl’s such a provider,” He says, grinning when you smack him on the shoulder. You try not to let the words ‘ my girl ’ affect you too much.

“Do you want coffee or not?”

He nods, pulling you in for one more kiss before murmuring ‘ Sounds good ’ against your mouth.

You have to peel yourself out of his arms, the danger of staying in bed all day with him too high.

The two of you walk to breakfast, hand in hand, and then you see him off when it’s time for practice. He comes back after, dinner in hand, and you both work on assignments with trashy TV playing in the background.

He stays the night again. And again. And again.

He stays until Christmas.

#haikyuu #haikyuu smut #tsukishima kei #tsukishima smut #tsukishima x reader

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inseparabiles · 21 days ago

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#(other thought: do you think Cara really realized whats happening?) via @sherryholmes

Lads, we're about to find out what the text post limit for Tumblr is, because this is the longest post I've ever made here. Unfortunately it's also a post I've been procrastinating on for days, and turns out, for a good reason. Every part of this was awful. Trigger warning for literally everything but mostly for child abuse and exploration of chronic trauma.

In regards to Caracalla's mental state in this scene and forwards, there's at least three different perspectives that come into play at once, and of the main two (trauma/dissociation and the complications from his syphilis) neither is inherently more important than the next. Both of his issues affect each other as well as the way he perceives his reality, and to get to how much he's really keeping up with things at the end here evidently required half a day's worth of analysis into the whole of the timeline for this scene, but also Caracalla's past from - and I wish I was kidding - birth onwards. But to start someplace that makes sense, we'll go back just a bit from this scene: specifically, to the night before any of this takes place.

While it's obvious that Caracalla's mental state is taking a turn for the worse throughout the film, it's after the discovery of Acacius's plot that he starts looking really rough. The same can be said for Geta, who, dealing with his own issues in the aftermath, has rather suddenly stopped being a singular, solid, reliable foundation for Caracalla to ground upon. In general, Geta's attention (trust, affection) has been steadily turning for Macrinus, who is offering him everything that Caracalla can't: guidance, someone to lean on, a sort of a fatherly affection that he's been missing his whole life.

In the aftermath of Acacius's execution, each of the twins is looking for something from the other that isn't available: Caracalla for Geta's usual ability to reason them out of any trouble and come up with solutions for their safety, Geta for Caracalla to show one inkling of responsibility to help him or at the very least stop attacking him when he already knows he fucked up and it scares him, and with some of Macrinus's gentle guidance, their stressed-out bickering turns to... a very modest, but still significant, physical assault when Geta - aiming to silence Dondus with a splash of water - spills it over his brother instead. As I wrote earlier, this breaks things between them. And this right here is significantly destabilising for Caracalla in specific.

As others have already pointed out, Caracalla's reaction to his brother's outburst (it was you, Geta, not him) is primarily dissociative. He freezes first: the freeze reaction is part of the fight/flight/freeze/fawn quad of primitive reactions to a perceived threat, where when faced with danger to one's immediate physical safety, a person "freezes" in place to minimise the attention they draw to themselves. This reaction is most commonly portrayed and observed in animals, as in people, depictions tend to focus on fight/flight the most. "Deer in the headlights" is a typical metaphor used to refer to a freeze state: that shocked stillness in a person who doesn't know what to do. But a freeze response doesn't inherently express fear: it can be very quiet, and very empty.

The freeze response is inherently a dissociative state. Because the mind perceives the situation inescapable, the person becomes still and silent in the hopes of becoming invisible. On the surface this doesn't make sense in a survival state, because doing this in a situation where you're very much not going to blend into your environment will likely only expose you to more harm than in any way protect you from it - but to understand it, it's important to note that this is the primary response to immediate physical danger found in children.

In comparison to an adult, who has other means of defending themselves, a child will in most cases be incapable of direct self-defense (fight) and they will be too slow to escape danger (flight), so their best bet is to stay very still and hope somebody else intervenes (freeze). A child who is not saved but is then attacked may enter a further dissociative state, where, if they cannot save their physical self, then they can at least save their mental self - they will lock up, and "go somewhere else" in their heads. This is relevant for context, for understanding what the hell this boy is thinking in general, but for now,

what Caracalla does in this situation is just to the left of that. He leaves the room at Macrinus's suggestion, who's read his state quite accurately: he suggests, in a very paternal way, that maybe Caracalla should take Dondus and go look after him someplace else. Go calm each other down. Re-establish safety. This would be great advice coming from literally anybody but Macrinus, because the appropriate response to a freeze/dissociative state is grounding, but, alas, it is Macrinus who says that.

Macrinus, who instead of being a nice person and telling Geta next to do the same and then go fix what he broke, uses this opportunity to go fan the flames. I hate this man, have I mentioned this anywhere before? I hate him so much for what he does to these two.

(I'm keeping myself grounded by looking for illustrations here, and I need you all to know that my screenshot folders have over 4 000 pictures in them. 98% of these pictures are just of Geta and Caracalla with some left Marcus Acacius on the side for spice. I'm normal. Anyway,)

Upon leaving the room, Macrinus easily locates Caracalla again: in a logical continuum in terms of tracking his mental state, he's found here hiding under a table. In essence, after a brief burst of the flight response, he's just moved elsewhere to freeze again.

At this point, and every single point from this moment forwards at the very least, Caracalla's clearly exhibiting another trauma response: regression. While not exclusive to trauma per se, regression involves a person's mental state returning to an approximation of a younger state, a state where that person has previously experienced a similar lack of control in their circumstances, but where they may also have experienced safety and care from their caretakers.

Going by what script!Geta says to him not too long after this scene, it seems reasonable to assume that what Caracalla is doing here is what he's done before to escape his father's explosive rages and violence:

He's... a very small guy. He's likely been a very small child, too. He says to Macrinus that Geta has always had it out for him - even in the womb, Geta tried to cut/grip his umbilicus so that he couldn't breathe, presumably to be the only surviving twin. Now, there's a lot that Caracalla's saying in this scene that needs to be taken with a grain of salt, but he's almost certainly relating here a "memory" that he has about what someone else has told him, or what he's otherwise heard. He probably did have a difficult birth, he probably did experience asphyxiation, and this may have been Geta's "fault" somehow - twin births are significantly more dangerous than solo births. We won't know what exactly happened, but umbilical cords and babies throughout history have not mixed well; hell, I was born significantly after the year 180 AD surrounded by much better medical care, and still the most likely singular cause for my learning disability is that I thought hanging myself by that thing in the womb was a great concept.

Asphyxiation injury in babies can cause poor growth, along with - as indicated above - lifelong disability and difficulty with development that results from brain damage, and I think this seemingly throwaway line is here specifically to tell us why Caracalla is so small and sickly, why he is so vulnerable, and, to a degree, also why Geta is so protective of him. He's never thrived, he's always been smaller and weaker, and

their father hated that. Their father, in general, seems to have despised his sons, but by Geta's description, he went for Caracalla first. Geta got in the way, took the beatings, protected his weaker brother from the violence. The only thing a small child in that situation can do is hide, and Caracalla here, under the table, is doing that again. He remembers that danger, and he remembers that hiding under the table meant a semblance of security and shelter against the danger. He remembers that, when he was hiding, there was someone there to protect him.

There was an excellent post on this by someone in the tags that I will link here pronto if anybody can find it for me, where the poster theorises that Geta's outburst, which is so reminiscent of their father's, has essentially put Caracalla in a PTSD flashback. With the regression, this seems more than plausible: he seems to have recognised his father in his brother's actions just as much as Geta himself must have recognised them, and they are both, in this moment, dealing with what that means - or not dealing, because they're both hiding, one in a curtain and the other under a table. It's interesting to me that this mixing of their past, their father's violence, never leaves Caracalla's mind after this time. He feels haunted by the man and his own actions to some degree in his mind become determined by his father's will, his father's hatred of his brother, which he's had to witness so many times in his childhood.

Now, diverting for a second from the trauma reactions and returning to Caracalla's stories to Macrinus, we can also see the effects of his neurosyphilis here. Which is a condition that's been fun to research because any information on it now is so clouded by mandatory patient direction telling me to go to the doctor and take antibiotics, which, honey, I'm sure Caracalla would have loved to do that, sincerely, but it wasn't an option, so what we get is this:

When Caracalla tells Macrinus about his memories from the womb, Macrinus asks him, "you remember that, do you?" and Caracalla says to him, "certainly; one cannot forget."

This confirms to Macrinus as much as the audience that Caracalla's experiencing delusional thinking, and, being the utter turdbag that he is, Macrinus knows exactly the kind of an opportunity this gives him. When a person is experiencing delusions, it's recommended to neither a) play into them nor b) try to directly contest them, as both ways of confrontation tend to root the delusion deeper into a person's thinking. Macrinus takes route a) like that diverting car meme, and starts telling Caracalla more absolute nonsense that he thinks will hit up nicely with whatever he's already experiencing, and based on all of this evidence, with how he's playing Geta like a father and treating Caracalla like a mother, he knows where his vulnerabilities are. He knows how to turn him against Geta - or at least he thinks that he does, because it doesn't quite work, not all of the way, anyway. But he gives it a good old fucking attempt and I despise him for that. Alas,

now we get to the ugly climax of his manipulation of these two traumatised young men whose lives, safety and futures are breaking down all around them, and who both desperately needed guidance and reassurance from someone who cared about them. He's told Caracalla that Geta intends to betray him, so go ahead and do what you must - you've always wanted to be something on your own, but he's always stood in the way, and by the way, he hates you, too. He says that he loves you, but he doesn't, he lies. You know what to do.

Fortunately however Geta knows his brother, and unlike Macrinus would like Caracalla to think, Geta does love him. No matter how annoying he is, no matter how much he gets in the way, no matter how difficult it is to be an emperor and a carer to a sick brother - Geta loves him. And that's enough, though, before we get to that point,

... mandatory reminder that Caracalla really gets off on blood? Like really gets off on it? This is also another excellent example of his regressed state: he cuts Geta, and this excites him. So much. He's probably never felt this powerful in his life: he did that. He did that. After basking in that feeling for a moment, still smiling like a little gremlin, Caracalla goes for Geta wholesale. He seems to be treating this is as some kind of a game, shifting between two states, one of whom is deeply hurt and driven by Macrinus's lies, and the other is just... being a boy, playwrestling with his brother because for the first time ever, he feels like he's got a winning edge.

In terms of Geta's ongoing Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day however, having his hand slashed gods know how deep shows us that something like this doesn't even make him flinch. After receiving the injury he just stands there, looking at his hand, looking at Caracalla, showing the exact degree of the beatings he's been taking his whole life. This, too, is dissociative, and stems from their childhood dynamics: Caracalla knows how to hide both in his head and as a first response to overwhelming danger, and Geta knows how to block out his emotions as well as physical pain, even significant, major pain, like a deep gash in his hand. He ignores the whole thing, the injury and his own personal hurt and fear, like these factors don't exist, because he has to protect Caracalla first.

Nothing Geta does in this scene is for himself. He's afraid, yes, but he's afraid for Caracalla more. And if that doesn't break your heart then I don't know. Good for you. I can't watch this scene again. And he literally dies holding Caracalla's face with his injured hand, looking him in the eye, because he loves him, and that's it for Geta.

In this godforsaken fucking piece of cinematic history, when Macrinus takes Caracalla's hand and butchers Geta with it, Caracalla is - understandably and visibly enough - back to freeze/dissociation again.

And I think some of that might be Geta's doing, in a sense: in order to break Caracalla out of their shared PTSD flashback which he started, unintentionally, by momentarily being the worst of himself to the one person who relied on him the most, Geta's now recounted the exact abuse, the exact circumstances, of Caracalla's memories back to him. He's done this to fix the narrative: I protected you. I love you. Our father hurt us. Doing so, he's put the pieces back together for Caracalla: Geta is not their father, Geta's his brother, and he protects him and loves him. He has always protected him.

So, now that Caracalla can recognise Geta for who and what he is: who takes his hand, then, and directs the blade? Is it not Macrinus, the man who has in all senses become a father to them? Does Caracalla's father then not hold his hand to punish Geta for getting in the way, again, like he always does?

The question was, do you think Cara really realized whats happening?

And after this essay of utter pain and suffering, I hate to say it, but yes, he does absolutely realise what's happening, but he is just as incapable of incorporating any of this into his reality, into any reasonable narrative that isn't controlled by the ghosts of his past. For Geta's death specifically, though, yes. He does realise it. Very much. He looks Geta directly in the eye while he dies, and every bit of his expression screams "I'm losing you and there's nothing I can do to stop it from happening."

His body might be in a freeze state again - limp, controlled first by Geta himself, then taken over by Macrinus - but he sees what's happening. He knows what's happening. The way he goes from this:

to this:

tells you that he knows. He knows.

And to wrap this horrific fucking thing up all nice and good before I print it out just to chuck it in a fire, I'm including the bit of the scene at the Senate that evidently we didn't need to see in the film:

This is Caracalla, trying desperately to make sense of his reality, the things that were done with his body against his will, his unspeakable and indescribable loss, and the lies that Macrinus has told him all over it.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go have a nice day in some other place where none of this happened and Macrinus never existed at all. As a fellow survivor of childhood abuse at the hands of a parent, fuck you, Macrinus. Fuck you for what you did to them. You're the single worst kind of a person on earth and if you were real I would eat your entrails for lunch.

This has been a post, good timezone.

#gladiator 2 #gladiator ii #gladiator spoilers #gladiator meta #abuse tw #trauma tw #blood tw so much it's all over the post #certified macrinus hate post #emperor caracalla #emperor geta #the word limit for a Tumblr text post is NOT 2 887 words.#science is still out.#gladiator

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mikavlcs · 2 years ago

Text

Had Enough

Pairing: Wednesday Addams x fem!reader

Summary: Xavier starts to get overzealous with you. Wednesday puts him in his place.

Warnings: mild Xavier slander (sorry bud), possessive-ish wednesday

Word count: 1.1k

Notes: another request. hope you guys enjoy<3

Masterlist

Despite Wednesday’s reputation, there were very few people she classified as true enemies.

Sure, she despised the general population of Nevermore, but since she and Bianca had cultivated something akin to a friendship, there wasn’t anyone specific that haunted her thoughts during the day.

However, Xavier Thorpe was quickly shaping up to be the new target of her antagonism.

She and Xavier had a somewhat complicated relationship. Their issues from her first semester had been largely smoothed over since she took an arrow for him and he gifted her that dreaded iPhone in return. They weren’t exactly friends, but there was no animosity between them.

His feelings for her seemed to pass as well, something Wednesday was eternally grateful for. Unfortunately, it seemed that the new recipient of these romantic feelings was you. And that was completely unacceptable.

She despised the way he insisted on sitting near the both of you during classes to try and impress you with his abilities or tell you terrible jokes in the middle of lectures.

And there were few things that angered her more than seeing him put his arm around you during conversation or ghosting his hand on your back while walking in the hallways.

She wasn’t jealous. No, jealousy had nothing to do with it. In fact, she found the situation laughable, hilarious even. That Xavier, the blank canvas of a man that he was, thought he could take what was hers.

And sure, your relationship wasn’t exactly public. Neither of you was screaming from the rooftops about your feelings because you both preferred to keep your relations private, but it wasn’t as if you were actively hiding it either. Your immediate group of shared friends knew.

Enid, Wednesday had told personally. Only because she wanted the werewolf to know to give the two of you privacy whenever Wednesday brought you to her dorm.

Bianca pieced it together herself, a fact that irritated Wednesday almost as much as the smirk Bianca gave her whenever the two of you walked into fencing class together. Yoko and Divina figured your relationship out because they got, what Enid rather vaguely referred to as, a vibe. Ajax remained blissfully unaware but he was never a threat.

Even other students appeared to cautiously avoid flirting with you in any capacity once they noticed your closeness with Wednesday.

(This carefulness may have also been cultivated by the way Wednesday glared at anyone that got too close for her liking, but that was entirely beside the point.)

The entirety of Nevermore understood that you were spoken for, and she enjoyed that greatly.

But Xavier didn’t appear to comprehend that.

So she would have to take it upon herself to educate him.

The quad was quieter than usual.

It wasn’t completely silent. The chatter of a few dozen students melded together, casting a thin blanket of noise over the small space. But it was nowhere near as rambunctious as it normally was on a Friday afternoon. Which meant that it was easy for Wednesday to find you amongst the commotion.

You were sitting at one of the tables on the far side of the quad, pen in hand while you seemingly worked on homework. Your blazer was tied around your waist, fully exposing the vest underneath.

The sky had been covered by clouds all day, but the clouds were beginning to dissipate in places, allowing rays of light to shine through. One of these places happened to be right above your table, clouds parting to envelope you in a halo of light that could fool anyone into thinking you were an angel sent down from the heavens above.

You looked divine. And the only thing stopping Wednesday from stopping and fully appreciating the sight before her was the person seated beside you.

Xavier.

He looked to be helping you with your work. But Wednesday knew better. He was sitting close enough that your thighs were nearly touching, his lanky frame nearly swallowing you whole when he leaned over to look at your textbook. Every time you looked away to write something down, his eyes would trail down the side of your face in a way that absolutely enraged Wednesday.

What drove her over the edge was his decision to grab your hand.

She was marching over to your table within seconds, her gaze absolutely murderous. A few students in her path instantly fled when they saw her expression, but she paid them no mind, focusing solely on how Xavier’s face fell when you pulled your hand out of his grasp. The sight was just enough to stop her from attempting murder, but not enough to deter her entirely.

You were the first to notice her. The way your eyes lit up at the sight of her gave her an unpleasant fuzzy feeling that she loved despised.

“Hi, Wen,” you greeted, giving her one of the warm smiles reserved for her. Wednesday’s glare softened considerably as her eyes moved from Xavier to you.

“Hello, mon cher.”

“I wasn’t expecting to see you until later. Is everything ok?”

The concern in your voice was touching, a reminder of how sweet you were even in less-than-desirable circumstances. But she had other matters to attend to right now.

“Yes. What are you doing?” The question was directed towards you, but her eyes were on Xavier, her fiery gaze boring into him. He squirmed. You didn’t notice.

“Just English homework,” you sighed. Wednesday’s eyes flitted back to you, momentarily drifting to your lips before righting themselves.

“Bring it to my dorm. I can assist you with it myself.”

Xavier started to protest but another glare was enough to quiet him. You looked confused by the sudden change in plans but acquiesced.

“Oh, ok. Let me get my stuff.”

You stood and reached for your textbook only to be stopped by Wednesday.

“Allow me.”

Wednesday began gathering your things for you and in the process, she discreetly leaned over to Xavier and delivered her message, her voice a soft but petrifying whisper.

“Lay your hand on her again and I will remove it. Finger by finger.”

Xavier’s eyes widened with terror, his only response a harsh gulp. Wednesday nearly smiled.

Without another glance in his direction, she stood with your textbook and dragged you off to her dorm. You tried to ask what was going on several times, but she remained silent until she reached her destination.

Once inside her empty dorm, she dropped your things off on her desk and sauntered back to where you were, stopping just in front of you. Your faces were mere inches apart and her eyes wandered back downward against her will.

You began to ask her something, but she cut you off by leaning forward and connecting your lips. A noise of surprise escaped you before you reciprocated, hands instinctively cupping her cheeks. Wednesday tangled one hand into your vest and gripped your tie with the other, lightly tugging you closer. You stayed pressed against one another until you stepped back, slightly dazed.

“What about-“

“Your homework can wait,” Wednesday mumbled, silencing you with her lips once more. She kissed you once, feverish and rough, then again and again and again, until there wasn’t a coherent thought left in your head. Her movements were frenzied—desperate even, and you were helpless to do anything but follow her lead with the same fervor.

When you finally parted for air, she whispered something into the small space between you. Something you didn’t understand, but still wholeheartedly felt.

“Eres mia, mi amor.”

#can you tell i’ve never written anything like this lol #wednesday #wednesday addams #wednesday addams x reader #wednesday addams x female reader #wednesday addams x you #wednesday imagine #jenna ortega

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skele-bunny · 2 months ago

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Thinking about Aether and Dew baby...

This follows Calida's timeline!

CW - Pregnancy, Mentions of past Traumatic Pregnancy (but this is a fluff post!)

It's been a good few years, now. Calida now a rambunctious teenager, the ministry settled down while there's no tours for a good while. It's comfortable! The topic comes up one night, Dew settled in the bed with Aether on their day off together;

"Firefly?"

"Hm?"

"Promise you won't bite me if I ask something?" An eyebrow raise but Dew promises. "How would you feel about another baby?"

"Another?" Dewdrop sits up a little, resting more on the headboard as he grimaces some. "I dunno, Aeth... Calida's was rough as is. I had her early, and all the complications, and just the mental side of it? I'm not sure... Why?"

"Just been thinking, that's all. Maybe something in the air, all the babies I've been helping deliver with the siblings. I dunno either. Just thought, maybe, it would be nice to have tiny feet running through the den again."

Dewdrop just chews his lip and nods, eventually going into silence before going to the bathroom suddenly. Closes the door and stares at himself in the mirror for a bit, so many thoughts racing. He doesn't realize how long it's been until Aether knocks to check on him, Dew opening the door and looking up, holding his breath.

"Okay."

"Okay, what?"

"Let's have another. But on my conditions."

"What- Oh, okay! What's your conditions?" Aether can't help his tail wagging.

"We're gonna go talk to my therapist and double, triple, fucking quad check that this isn't just a breeding thing for you... A-and I only want you, or Phil, or- or just that really nice midwife you introduced me to at the Halloween party, Alexa... If... If I get pregnant again. No one else."

Aether just nods, taking Dewdrop's hand, leading him back to bed. "Those are all reasonable. I can call for an appointment in the morning. Sound fair?"

"Yeah... Sounds fair."

It's about two months worth of sessions, both privately and together, making sure that YES. They want this! Dew is mentally ready for this again, Aether isn't in some kink phase, etc. They even talk to Calida who's more than excited about a little sibling! Dewy gets off his testosterone and starts taking supplements, and circles his first heat for them to start trying. They keep everything quiet for a while, and even more months of failed attempts to conceive. It's about month four when Dew wakes Aether up, sitting on his lap with two positive pregnancy tests.

They're SO fucking excited but keep their expectations mellow. Dewdrop's health has much changed since Calida, plus they don't know if the egg will fully stay intact. Still, it is exciting for Aether to smell how fruity Dewdrop is. Constantly scenting him to see if there's any changes but also to cover the smell around the others. Every night Aether has his eyes full of stars and a gentle hand on Dew's stomach, whispering to Dewy what he sees, how small it is, but still so full of fluids and cells.

Two months, they agree to tell the others. It goes as they expect, excitement and extra affection, a ghoul pile that even Copia makes time to join.

"Have you started thinking about names or anything like that?" Sunny is laying her head on Dew's thigh, smiling SO wide.

"No, not just yet. Things can still change so we're waiting at least until near the end of the second trimester."

"Makes sense," Swiss chimes in. "Does Calida know?"

Aether is the one to laugh, leaning over. "That girl scared the birds away from how excited she got. She was the first to know."

Now, Dewdrop wouldn't trade Calida for the world. But he wishes he had this gentleness when he was expecting her. The kindness and a huge pack so that he doesn't have to strain and try to keep up, that he knew early, how accommodating everything's been. There's times he'll just hold his stomach and look in the mirror, so much deja vu of when he did it in hotel bathrooms while on tour. Speaking to Calida and telling her she was going to be the light of his life, and now he's doing it again. Just another piece for a puzzle he didn't know wasn't completed yet.

He's put on bed rest once more, too many high risks going on, and he starts eventually experiencing... Symptoms.

"What do you mean they're weird?"

"They're just fucking weird, Aether! Just, okay, tickle me."

He blinks. "You hate being tickled."

"I know! Just do it!"

He shrugs and does a little wiggle of his fingers before attacking Dew's sides and armpits. Listening to him squeal and laugh, grimacing and eventually - the TV turns on. Aether is staring at it while Dew catches his breath.

"See? Weird fucking shit! If I sneeze the lights turn on and off, when I get headaches my phone's battery dies, and like... It's so strange!"

Aether whistles a little, rubbing the back of his neck. "Oh we're so having a quint."

"Huh?"

Aether looks him dead in the eyes, but a big goofy smile. "You're having magick surges. Little bit is reacting to you, and quintessence is a hell of a thing. Starts while still in the womb, my mother in the pit had almost the same things happening. Less technology and more of like, levitation. We're having a quint!"

Dew blinks before breaking into cries. "Woah, woah! What's wrong, my love?"

"I'm gonna look like a fucking watermelon you ass-wipe!" Hitting him softly but still crying.

Poor thing isn't even six months yet, but he looks like he's eight! Mumbling about his feet hurting, his legs more swollen than normal, cravings that are insanity to even be thought of. It's when he's in the nursery, tying ribbons on the crib when he gasps at a feeling, holding his stomach... It happens again.

He doesn't even get the full trill out before Cumulus and Mountain are RAMMING into that door.

"What's wrong?!"

But, he's smiling, beckoning them over. Takes both of their hands and puts it on his bump, shushing them every time they try to ask. There's a kick and their eyes go wide, Dew just as much. It's much softer than normal kicks, but that's to be expected from the egg sack still around them.

Then, finally, a gender reveal. Expecting a tiny little girl, Aether excited as he's always been a girl dad, adjusting some of the things in the nursery to match her.

"Teddy."

"Hm?"

Dew is playing with a tiny onesie, keeping his eyes locked on it. "What do you think of the name Starshine?"

"Starshine?"

"Yeah," his thumb going over the embroidered star on the onesie. "For our daughter."

Aether hums, thinking it over a little before he nods. "Yeah... Yeah, I like that."

He makes it to full term, after an agonizing day and a half of his water being broken and no dilation. Clutching to Aether and Mountain, Alexa between his knees to help course their daughter out. Mountain's fur is sticking up from the amount of electricity from Dew holding him, then with how hot he is. There's a bit of a power surge at the final push before the lights come back. Dewdrop sobbing as he dead weights against the two, staring at the ceiling but ears completely focused on Starshine's mad cries as she's cut from the sack.

Good god they though Mountain was furry? That poor girl is gonna need haircuts WEEKLY. Aether and Dew laughing a bit as they're holding this purple blob of fur, some soft white on her belly and in her ears. Hair blonde, just like Dewdrop's.

Mountain congratulating them and helping Alexa clean up a little while the new parents again bask in the afterglow with their new daughter :3

#the band ghost #ghost band #rabrev writing #ghoul kits #dewdrop ghoul #aether ghoul #dewther #cw pregnancy

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dilfl0v3rss · 1 year ago

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this was the eren and reiner fic with a the different ending. i felt like it wasn’t what y’all wanted so i changed it, but if you’re interested in reading it here it is🤷🏽‍♀️

caller blocked

“ian ready for no relationship.” the excuse of excuses. the words that were always thrown your way after you’d try to convince your little “fling” that you wanted to be more. eren stood up, zipping his pants before grabbing his hoodie and heading out your dorm room. your situation was…complicated. well not really. you grew very attached to this man, looking for him at parties, going to every single one of his games, giving him your notes so he wouldn’t fail and get kicked off the team, and letting him fuck you whenever he wanted.

you were practically dating. or that’s what you thought. eren seen you as just another pretty little thing to keep his grades up and his dick wet. using you constantly while labeling it at love to keep you coming back for more. “b-but why ren?” eren dropped his shoulders, sighing before he walked back to you and raised your chin with his fingers. “you know the rules pretty. cant be tied down worrying about a girl during the season. when all of this craziness is over then we can work sum out.”

a smile bloomed on your face as you looked at eren in complete adoration. you couldn’t wait for the season to end so you could finally be with the man you love. your friends seen you as a complete idiot, and they had no problem trying to shut down your delusions. “girl what don’t you get? as soon as the season ends he gon drop you like a bad habit.” “yea he’s lying to you baby.”

you shook your friend as your friends annie and sasha tried to speak some sense into you. “he wouldn’t do that to me. h-he lo-” “he doesn’t love you and m’gonna prove it.” before you could reply annie pulls out her phone, clicking historias instagram story to show you what she posted in her close friends. there eren was, laying his head on her stomach with his arms wrapped around her as the rest of his body laid snug between her legs. the caption reading ‘pussy put his ass to sleep🤣’.

your eyes instantly welled with tears as you watched eren, your eren be with someone else the same way he’d be with you. annie was contemplating telling you for awhile. hoping that you’d come to your senses on your own without having to get hurt, but she just couldn’t hold it in anymore. “why would he-” “because historias dumber than a bag of rocks and she doesn’t mind sucking and fucking a dick that’s been in half the campus.” sasha spit.

annie wiped your tears with a napkin from her purse before standing up with you on the quad bench. “fuck him furreal. there’s so many guys that have been tryna get at you, but you’ve been oblivious to them because of eren.” you nodded your head, acting as if you were agreeing but you were really heartbroken. the three of you said your goodbyes and you went back to your room. tears flooded your pillowcase as you thought about what you had just witnessed.

you were being played, but you weren’t about to just let it go. deciding that one day you’ll get your revenge, but right now you wanted nothing to do with him. weeks went by since you’ve last talked to eren. he wasn’t suspicious of it since he’d usually only talk to you when he needed something anyways. covering up his actions with “practice” to keep you from pestering him.

as annie said, a lot of guys have tried to get at you and instead of shooting them down like you usually did, you gave one a chance. you and reiner have gotten pretty close over the last few weeks. texting almost everyday, eating lunch together, and sharing your favorite books with each other in the library as you studied. he was sweet and charming.

always paying for your lunch no matter how many times you’ve tried to return the favor, walking you all the way to your dorm after a particularly late study sesh, and holding your hand when the two of you would cross the street. he mostly did that for his enjoyment, but you didn’t mind.

the two of you weren’t dating, but many people thought you were, given that one was barely seen without the other. “where’s your boo suge.” sasha would say when you finally hung out with your girls after three long weeks. “hush uppp. we just talking.” annie, sasha, and pieck busted out laughing before pieck leaked some information to you.

“girl you know we seen you getting your back blown out in the back of his jeep right?” your hands flew to your mouth as you gasped in shock. “yupp. saw him pulling your hair and allat right in our dorm parking lot.” sasha said as you covered your face in embarrassment before mumbling into your hands. “ooouuu yall so nosey i could strangle all three of you right now.” annie scoffed as she pulled your arms from your face.

“you think we’re dumb? you’ve been ditching us every chance you got. and when you do decide to finally hang out with us for a little, you come with a bunch hickies and a pimp walk.” all of you laughed at her last comment. rolling your eyes before checking your phone. speak of the devil.

rei🌻

‘got everything ready for movie night!’

‘waiting on you now mama💛’

you looked up from your phone, instantly getting pissed looks from your friends. “don’t even say nun. go be wit your man. enjoy it too because this weekend you all OURS. you hear me?” you giggled as you stood from your spot on sasha’s beanbag chair. “i hear youuu. love yallll!!” each of your friends replied with “love you toos” before you left to go spend time with reiner.

“aight i got nightmare on elm street and i got fri-” “princess and the frog” reiner chuckled as you looked up at him. sitting on his bed in nothing but his t shirt that you changed into as soon as you got there. “we watched that last time princess. you said you’d let me switch it up.” pink lip jutting out in a pout at he looked at you with sad eyes.

you laughed, watching this huge man with black ink dancing around his arms and chest being such a softy for you. his sweatpants hanging low on his hips as he situated himself under you on the bed. “okay then coco. i love un poco locoooo” a groan flew from his lips as he rolled his eyes at your choices. “no more disney. if i hear another song ima rip my ears off.”

the two of you ended up settling on john wick, but that didn’t really matter since it was thirty minutes into the movie where you found yourself plopping up and down on his thick dick. big veiny hand holding the back of your neck while his other arm was squeezing your ass. “how ya feeling princess.”

your moans flew directly into reiners ear as your hands gripped the pillow next to his head. “s-so good papa. real good.” his pace slowed as he started putting more of his inches into you. your hands flew to his hair, stroking and pulling his blonde crown with your eyes closed tightly. “that’s what i like to hear. love making my pretty girl feel good.” you were so out of it you didn’t even notice that reiners hand was no longer on your ass. instead he was texting your ex fling on your phone.

ren ren💚

‘yo. you up?’

he seen the name pop up and instantly got heated, knowing what he’s done to you. he grabbed the device without thinking as he made quick work to delete his number before replying.

you

‘yea what’s up?’

347-***-****

‘miss you mama🤧’

‘let me pull up on you’

‘the nerve of this guy’ reiner thought as a quick idea came up into his head. he quickened his strokes, laying the phone on the bed as the phone dialed erens number. “o-o-ooouuu rei you feel so good.” a smirk crept onto his face. “i feel good pretty girl?” you nodded your head, whining after you felt a hard slap to your ass. the sound bouncing off the walls as his one hand took up lots of space on your asscheek.

“use those words mama. like when you talk t’me.”

“y-you feel so g-good daddyyyy” reiner looked up at you in adoration before connecting his lips with yours in a sloppy kiss. smacking sounds ringing loud in the air as he practically devoured you. reiner glanced back at the phone to see that eren had hung up, a bunch of texts popping up as he scrolled through each of them.

347-***-****

‘wyd y/n?’

‘man you so lame for that fr’

‘how you just gon give my pussy away like that?’

‘he never gon be able to fuck you like i do’

‘cmon baby don’t pass up a relationship with me for braun…’

‘i swear i’ll never text historia again’

‘she could never amount to you ong baby’

‘baby?’

‘text me back y/n :(‘

‘at least still study with me…historia’s so dumb i’ll get kicked off the team fasho’

*caller blocked*

reiner threw your phone to the side before laying you on you your back. pulling out of you before moving his head towards your pussy. his pink lips wrapped around your clit before licking up and down your middle. “all mine right baby?” his green eyes met your brown ones. the two of you staring deeply into each other before you nodded you head slowly.

“all yours”

#aot x black reader #reiner x black!reader #reiner x black reader #reiner x black y/n #reiner smut #reiner braun x black!reader #reiner braun x black reader #reiner braun x black y/n #reiner braun smut #aot reiner x black reader #aot reiner x black!readee #aot reiner x black y/n #aot reiner braun x black reader #aot reiner braun x black!reader #aot reiner braun x black y/n #aot reiner smut #aot reiner braun smut

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atinystraynstay · 1 year ago

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Bittersweet - Jeon Wonwoo & Kim Mingyu

Synopsis: One let you go. You ended up going into the arm's of another, specifically his best friend.. Now, he was regretting every moment that you weren't by his side.

Inspiration: Bittersweet (feat. LeeHi) - Wonwoo & Mingyu

Pairing: Frat Boy!Jeon Wonwoo x fem reader x Frat President!Kim Mingyu

Angst - ex-lovers seeing each other for the first time in a long time, angst, jealous, friends to lovers, complicated love triangle

Word Count: 3.2k

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Mingyu was standing in front of the mirror in his bedroom. He was fixing his tie. He wasn't sure who he was dressing to impress tonight. Truth be told, he found a random date for tonight's winter formal from another brother. Something about how his date didn't want to be the only one in attendance? He asked some girl from the same sorority.

Looking at his reflection, he let out a puff of air. It all felt wrong. He was supposed to go with you. You were his girlfriend for the past year and half, dammit. How could he be so careless to let you slip through his fingers?

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You were walking across campus from your lecture. Every Wednesday night, you found yourself at the frat house. It has been routine for you since getting together with Mingyu. Thursday nights were reserved for chapter meetings, while Fridays and Saturdays were for parties, mixers, and other social obligations. Wednesdays were reserved for you before the chaos and the other days for recovery with you. Sometimes cleaning up larger messes.

The two of you met during orientation week. Not during your freshman year. The two of you were tabled next to each other, trying to entice the new students into joining your respective organizations.

Mingyu accidentally hip-checked your table. It caused the photo display to fall over and flyers to scatter throughout the quad. He quickly apologized before chasing around the papers getting blown in the wind for you. You thought he was the most adorable person you met.

A year and a half later, you guys have been going steady. Both of you lived very busy lives but always seemed to find time for one another. He always made you a priority. That was one of the reasons why Mingyu gave you a key to the fraternity house. All the brothers not only respected you but they loved having you around. They also were happy to see their president happy.

You unlocked the front door with the key. Once the door was unlocked, you pushed it open. You glanced towards the coat rack, seeing Mingyu's leather jacket hung up. You smiled now you got confirmation he was home. You noticed the array of shoes thrown around. A few you recognized, but there were a few you didn't. Maybe one of the guys has a girl over or something?

You decided to go see for your golden retriever boyfriend. You were sure wherever you and Mingyu were heading to, you would end up coming back here at the end of the night. Seeing that Mingyu wasn't anywhere in sight downstairs, he was either upstairs or down in the makeshift gym.

Quietly, you ascended upstairs towards Mingyu's room. On the way up, you passed by Wonwoo's room who had the door slightly open. You glanced by, seeing he had his headphones on and was playing a video game. He was always so quiet around you but so gentle. You were grateful for friends like him for Mingyu.

Standing outside of Mingyu's door at the end of the hall, you didn't hear much. Maybe he was taking a nap?

You knocked three times on the door. Something you always did to identify yourself behind a closed door. When you got no response, you figured he was actually asleep or maybe had headphones on as he studied. The fraternity house and its brothers could get rather rowdy.

When you didn't get an answer, you twisted the doorknob and pushed it open. The room was dark. The light from out in the hallway provided enough for you to see what was going on.

God, do you wish you never ventured upstairs.

The further you ventured into the room, the more you could see what was in front of you. A woman with long blonde hair was lying in bed. Her back was towards you, topless. Mingyu had his arms wrapped around her. Both of them were asleep.

Your heart shattered in two.

Instead of making a large scene, you decided to step out of the room completely. You closed the door gently, not wanting to disturb the two. All you wanted in that moment was to get out of this house as quickly as possible.

______________________________________________________________

Mingyu had no idea you even saw him. He knew what he did was wrong, he was ashamed of himself. Even disgusted. Later that afternoon, he woke up to texts from you.

You could have at least told me you wanted to see other people rather than me finding you in bed with another woman. We're done. Key is on the kitchen table.

He wanted to run after you that day, but he just couldn't. He hurt you. Mingyu had no right to come begging for forgiveness. All he could do was acknowledge the hurt he caused and move on with his life.

Little did he know, you had turned into the arms of his best friend, Jeon Wonwoo.

Now, Wonwoo didn't like to eavesdrop. It was never his intention. He always had his gaming headphones on standby the moment you entered the room next door. He heard the squeaking of the floor as you walked past, instantly recognizing your light footsteps compared to the stomps of his housemates.

Wonwoo's always had a little crush on you. The two of you met when Mingyu decided to introduce you to everyone. Unlike girls Mingyu has been with before, there was something different about you. You took the time to introduce yourself to each member, which Wonwoo was impressed by. Usually, most girls keep quiet and let Mingyu do the talking. He was brought in by your warm personality.

He also quickly learned why Mingyu had fallen for you. You were someone that always liked to lend a helping out, so your kindness was genuine. It was not just a way to charm people upon first interactions. You were always willing to lend a hand out around the fraternity house, something you were never obligated to do. Yet, you always wanted to make it known how grateful you were for the boys for hosting and wanting to return the favor.

You were also breathtaking. You could be so angelic yet the ideas that Wonwoo had in his mind were a bit darker. It didn't help that some nights he did in fact hear you over his headphones. He sometimes found himself eyeing your lips, wondering what it would be like to be against his, to feel them on him. Your smile made him smile, even on the days he wanted to crawl to his room and isolate himself. You were the sunshine of his life.

God, he envious of Mingyu.

He was anticipating to hear you move into the interior of Mingyu's room but for a while, it was silent. The hinges on Mingyu's bedroom door sounded but they didn't close. He didn't hear either your voice or his best friend's. Deciding to investigate, he saw you slowly close the door. One hand resting on the door itself while you pulled, as if you didn't want to disturb him. That's weird. Maybe Mingyu was sleeping, but why is she leaving? She always stayed.

Slowly, Wonwoo eased out of the room to evaluate what was going on. Maybe he could keep you company until Mingyu comes back from class?

Once you turned towards him, he was at full attention. You jumped, not expecting to see anyone in the house since it was the middle of the day. Let alone you weren't expecting to run into Mingyu's best friend. Wonwoo noticed the tears starting to fill your hypnotic eyes. His urge to protect, to take care of you taking over. "He's cheating on me, Wonwoo," you whispered. You were almost in disbelief yourself. Sure, you've had the occasion lover's spat, but didn't every couple? You always believed Mingyu was too good to be true. Looks like you were right.

Just hearing your statement caused Wonwoo's heart to break for you but his anger also to boil. How could Mingyu be so stupid? Any best friend might jump to the defense of their friend, but Wonwoo couldn't. Not when it looked like you were falling apart. His priority was you.

Without thinking about it, Wonwoo's arms opened up to you. You were a bit hesitant at first, not knowing if there would be ramifications for seeking comfort in the arms of your now-ex boyfriend's best friend, one of his fraternity brothers. Yet, Wonwoo has always been extremely kind to you. You instantly went into his arms, your face burying into his shoulder where you finally let your tears fall. You hated to cry in front of people, not wanting to be seen as weak.

"Come on, let's get you out of here."

That afternoon turned into a whole night with Wonwoo. He spent as much time as you wanted with him. To Wonwoo, he would spend all day every day with you if allowed. You guys went out for a drive first, sensing you just needed the space to breathe and feel your emotions. Staying in the fraternity house was not an option especially since you were trying to make your great escape.

Wonwoo drove you two around for about an hour. That was when you began to confide in Wonwoo what happened. Maybe you felt comforted by the fact Wonwoo had to stay focus on driving, so you could let more tears fall without him watching you. Maybe it was the fact it was Wonwoo, someone who was a great listener that allowed you to speak freely.

One thing for sure though, Wonwoo was grateful you two weren't at the fraternity house. Mingyu would definitely be in the hospital now for the distress he caused you.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It's been now 3 months since Mingyu had see any sign of you.

"So, who are you even bringing for tonight? I know you're not the type to steal someone's date," Mingyu overheard Seungcheol ask Wonwoo.

Ever since you left his world, Mingyu has felt blue. And it was his own wrongdoing. What made matters worse is that he felt his friendship with Wonwoo, his friend since Day 1, start to dissolve. He couldn't put his finger on why.

"Oh trust me, I've only got eyes for one thing and that's making sure my date is having the best night."

All the guys gathered in the foyer of the house cheered and whistled at Wonwoo's response. Mingyu was stood at the top of the staircase, keeping his presence unknown for now. His eyebrows furrowed together as he let the commotion downstairs sink in. Wonwoo was interested in someone? Since when? He felt like he didn't even know his best friend anymore.

Everyone was waiting for their dates to appear as the party bus would be taking everyone to the formal. Seungcheol's date already arrived for the evening, as well as Vernon's. Mingyu's date said that she would be running late.

Ding dong.

Mingyu's head picked up towards the door. Maybe she was here already? Mingyu fixed the blazer he was wearing as he began to walk down the stairs but he froze when he saw movement from his peripheral. He noticed Wonwoo appear and head towards the door, opening it was ease. I mean, it could have been Wonwoo's date after all? He was intrigued to know who this mystery girl could be.

"You know, you still should have let me come pick you up," Wonwoo laughed. He sounded happy which made Mingyu feel good. But he couldn't quite make out who he was speaking to, both being unable to hear and see due to Wonwoo's structure. It was clear that his date was shorter.

"You look absolutely gorgeous, honey," Wonwoo said. Maybe his date was more than just a date? "Thank you, baby," the feminine voice said.

Yet, it sounded so familiar to Mingyu. Was it someone fro class? One of the sorority girls that often mixed with? Mingyu tried is best to know everyone he interacted with, always wanting to be polite. He was getting more impatient by the second that passed without a reveal.

Wonwoo's arm wrapped around you, leading you inside. Once Wonwoo turned around, Mingyu's world came crumbling down. The guys gathered gasp once Wonwoo led you inside and out of the cold.

Y/n. Y/n is Wonwoo's date?

Mingyu felt his blood run cold. How could this be happening? Since when were you talking to Wonwoo? Since when did Wonwoo ever have any interest in you? Was this the reason why Wonwoo was no longer speaking to him?

All the guys seemed overjoyed both see Wonwoo happy but also to see you. Often, whispers of how the guys missed seeing you around filled the halls of the house. It drove Mingyu furious knowing he was at fault for your disappearance. He couldn't blame you for no longer wanting to show face around the fraternity. But his brothers also missing you served as a reminder how badly he messed up. "Y/n, you're radiating!" "Wonwoo, how the fuck did you manage to get y/n?" "It's so good to see you again! Are you and Wonwoo official? Are you the girl he's been sneaking off to?"

You giggled as you glanced up at Wonwoo, a smile on your lips. Mingyu shattered as he saw you rest your hand on his chest, running it up and down. Just like you used to do for him. Wonwoo wore the widest grin before pushing his glasses up the bridge of his noise, making sure to keep his arm around you. You guys were so in love. God, I think I'm going to be sick.

Mingyu didn't dare want to hear the response Wonwoo was about to say. He tried moving back upstairs, but the squeak of the wooden staircase gave him away. Damn this old house! The conversation stopped and all eyes immediately went towards him, following the sound of the noise.

He slowly looked over from his position on the staircase. Mingyu wanted to be angry at Wonwoo for getting close to you, for filling in his space in your life. He saw the way you stuck to Wonwoo's side, almost hiding yourself from Mingyu.

Buzz buzz.

Mingyu's phone vibrated from his pants pocket. He couldn't even address everyone as he used his phone going off to distract him. At least he could think of the right things to say.

"Hey Gyu, I'm so sorry to do this last minute. I gotta cancel.. came down with the stomach bug. I'll make it up to you"

Fucking great.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The whole ride to the formal was tortuous for Mingyu. He sat on one end of the party bus while you and Wonwoo occupied another section. Several bodies were in between the two of you, but Mingyu still had a good view of you.

Everyone was chatting, catching up and getting to know each other. Especially the girls in attendance, as for many this was the first time meeting. Most people were enjoying the drinks provided by the bus company. Music was playing which drowned out most of the conversations happening except for those immediately to your side.

Wonwoo was to your left side, your body leaning into his a bit. Not once during the whole ride, unless someone spoke directly to Wonwoo, did his eyes leave you. He looked at you like you were his whole world. And he gets it. To Mingyu, you are just as precious. He just never thought he'd witness this love tragedy of his best friend falling for his girl.

You wore wearing a dark blue dress that stopped short at your thighs. You crossed your legs, so your right thigh was resting on top of your left. It caused your dress to hike up, exposing more of your leg. Mingyu swallowed the lump that suddenly formed in his throat. Absolute torture.

Someone cleared the their throat beside Mingyu before a sharp jab to the ribs.

Mingyu let out a small groan before eyes went blazing to the person next to him. Seungcheol put his arms in defense. "Dude, I'm just looking out for you. You're staring."

With a raised eyebrow, Mingyu looked back over to you. But instead of your eyes, he was met with Wonwoo giving him a death stare. You had your head turned, speaking to Vernon's date while Wonwoo looked like he was ready to rip off Mingyu's head. Oh fuck.

Wonwoo's gaze eased up as he kissed your head lingeringly. He untangled his arm from your hold just so he could slip his jacket off of himself, placing it on your lap to cover your exposed legs. His head ducked down to whisper into your ear. Mingyu clenched his jaw, wondering what on Earth could be spewing out of his best friend's mouth. Whatever it was, it pleased you as you pecked his lips.

That seemed to snap Mingyu back into reality. Were you guys actually dating? Did he lose you forever? While he's been enjoying the view of you, it was quickly ripped away coming to realize that you might actually be Wonwoo's girl, not just the date for the evening.

I have to win her back.

The music died down as the party bus came to a stop. The doors slowly opened, showing that we arrived at our destination. People began to filter out. Wonwoo helped you ease up, taking his jacket from your lap to wrap it around your shoulders. His hands quickly made sure your dress covered your completely. His eyes glanced back at Mingyu. Wonwoo was seeing red. And Mingyu knew that.

Mingyu waited for everyone to leave the party bus before disembarking himself. Maybe he was waiting for his death sentence from Wonwoo, sensing that he was becoming public enemy #1 in the eyes of his former his best friend.

He couldn't help but wonder how you saw him. Did you believe you two could get back together? Did you also see him as the devil? Or did Mingyu have a chance at winning you back?

After getting enough courage, Mingyu began to make his way out of the party bus. He thanked the bus driver before slipping a tip to him. He jogged down the steps just to see Wonwoo with you. Your body was half hidden behind Wonwoo who was staring him down.

"I don't know what the fuck your deal is, Mingyu, but knock it off." "I'm not the one who got together with their best friend's girl." "And I'm not the one who cheated on her. It's not my fault you're just now coming to your senses after not trying to even apologize. Just stay away from us."

All Mingyu could do was nod. Or else he would have punched Wonwoo right in the face. And seeing that this was a fraternity event, he was not about to let his anger get the best of him.

Satisfied, Wonwoo turned back towards you. His hand rested on your lower back as he began leading you into the venue.

What took Mingyu by surprise was when you looked back at him. He couldn't quite read your expression. You were at least acknowledging him as you looked back over your shoulder at your ex lover, just as your new lover was escorting you away.

This was going to be an interesting evening.

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notroosterbradshaw · 2 years ago

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warm blood

FULL FIC HERE.

The sound that escaped Rooster’s lips as you dragged your nails through his unruly sunkissed curls had you cackling. “Rooster Bradshaw, you need a girlfriend,” you decided.

“I don’t need a girlfriend; I just need to get laid,” he protested, realising how pitiful he sounded and then adding softly, “Please don’t stop. That feels so fuckin’ good. It’s like the most physical contact I’ve had in...” his eyes fluttered closed and took a deep, satisfied pull of his beer. He didn’t want to admit how long it had been since someone had touched him like that.

Continuing to press your fingertips into his scalp, his shoulders dropped, completely melting in your touch. “This must be the longest dry spell you’ve ever had,” you reckoned quietly.

“Feels like it,” he said dismally.

“How long?” you dared ask.

“It’s goin’ with me to the grave, don’t ask stupid questions,” he muttered in reply as you hide your grin with a sip of your beer. He turned back to you and made a face; he’d let pretences lie. “Maybe you’re right, I just need a girlfriend.”

“Rooster, you have no trouble finding someone to fuck… why are you off your game? Why don’t you go drag all the single ladies in with a song or something?” you suggested, hoping to perk him up. He shook his head. Honestly, he didn’t need to sit at the piano to have all eyes on him. At any point of the night, you’d look up and find some poor soul caught staring.

“Naw,” he didn’t feel like the spectacle tonight.

“Want me to wing woman for you?” you offered. “Babe on the other side of the bar. Tall, curvy...” you chewed your own lip.

“You’d do that?” he asked, honestly touched.

“Of course. I can’t deal with you when you’re being a whiny little bitch. If it means you get your cock wet, I’m here for you, pal.”

He laughed quietly as you asked him how you looked. He gave you a once over and frowned. “Beautiful, but are you trying to get laid, or am I?”

"I swore off your kind, any kind, as a New Year’s resolution. I want the year to myself,” you grandstanded, and he chuckled.

“You’ll be begging for sex soon enough,” he straightened, glaring at you out of the side of his hazel eyes and took another long slug of his beer.

“I’ve got toys, I’ve got fingers,” you reminded him, reaching for him with grabby hands as he bit back a grin and leaned away from you.

“You fuckin’ deviant,” he joked. It was untrue, but he loved to tease you… and you loved when he teased you too.

“Hey. If I want to find someone to share my time with, I won’t hesitate to break that resolution if I need to. They’re made to be broken anyway,” you shrugged casually.

He nodded, not disagreeing. “I’m sick of my hands,” he muttered as you took the hand that rested on his quad and cupped it in your own. You didn’t know why, he brought it up and they were just there begging to be held. He laughed quietly and gripped your palm back. “I just miss the warmth, you know?”

Putting the back of his hand to your cheek, he laughed again. You gave him the eyes, and he sighed.

“Don’t start. Knock it off immediately.”

“No, tell me exactly what you miss. Tell me what you need.” You settled in. You would love to know what turned Rooster Bradshaw on. He wasn’t like the other guys – he kept his conquests quiet. Lowkey. Sure, you knew when he was in the game, he made no secret of his intentions. But gee, he always seemed more complicated than an easy fuck kinda guy.

“You don’t need to hear about any of that stuff,” he rolled his eyes and retrieved his hand, stuffing it back in his jeans pocket. “Trust me, you’ll be just like me soon enough.”

“Look, if you get to a point you’re absolutely desperate, blue from top to toe, I’ll drop my standards for a night and give you a night you won’t forget, okay?” you tried to bite back the laugh that bubbled under the surface. You weren’t surprised he gave you the bird in response. “You’re just lazy. Go lay a line on any woman in here, and I guarantee, she will be putty in your hands.”

It seemed like such a nut-up or shut-up order, Rooster knew he had no choice but to follow through. Standing to his height and adjusting to his posture, he muttered, “Fine,” he stole your fresh beer as you protested and wandered over to the gorgeous woman, who if truth be told, was exactly his usual type, you’d pointed out only moments earlier. Well, what was expected to be his type - that glint in her eye that told him he wouldn’t have to work too hard to get her number either. He had a rule that one-night stands were never at his place. He’d rather sneak out than kick someone out. Win-win really.

#wip #rooster #rooster x reader #bradley bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x reader #rooster bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw #i haven't proofed this

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ariadne-mouse · 5 months ago

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I wonder if Fiona gets phantom limb syndrome. Like yes Jacob is there but the leg leg is gone. If Jacob sneezes, could she feel the spasm like a quad cramp or a twitch of her "knee"? Does her brain sometimes trick her that Jacob's toes are her actual toes? The mental/proprioception link they have could make it even more complicated, because she could be getting some kind of sensory feedback from her ""leg"" even though it is now Jacob. Maybe once in a while she starts to walk like she just has her leg leg instead of Jacob, for just a split second. If he stubs his toe, does she say ow? This is more idle musing than serious lore consideration but it's just such a bananas situation

#moonward #op #midst #fiona #jacob (leg)

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angelasscribbles · 3 days ago

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65 Poly Asks Part 1

I was super stoked to stumble across these asks specifically for polycules!!

I saved these asks two months ago and am just now finding the time and energy to sit and answer them.

I haven’t been that active lately but suddenly tonight I had a bit of free time and started reading through these and got so excited to answer them!

There are 65 questions and I tend to be long winded, so I’m going to do them a few at a time so you’re not reading a book by the time I’m done.

Ok, let’s dig in!!

I’m answering for my Bad Romance gang, obviously. Here are the first ten questions.

How many members are in the polycule? How are they related to each other? Feel free to draw a flowchart. I think that I already answered this here in depth, so I’ll try to stay brief. There are five primary members: Liam, Drake, Max, Riley, and Rashad. Six if you count Siobhan, an OC I made up that in my mind is still around, but I haven’t really written much about her. Riley and Liam are married and they are the king and queen of Cordonia. Riley, Max, and Liam are a throuple. Max is officially Riley’s personal assistant and top royal advisor. Drake is only with Riley romantically. Drake and Liam are best friends and have been since childhood. Drake is the head of Riley’s Queen’s Guard. Rashad was originally Liam’s friend but is now Riley’s lover and her personal lawyer. Liam and Rashad are still friendly, but Drake and Rashad do not like each other. Siobhan is Riley’s friend with benefits. Siobhan and Drake have been intimate with each other in a threesome with Riley. I might expand on that relationship, eventually. Hana is Riley’s best friend. They slept together once, but it didn’t affect their friendship. Hana is aromantic. She and Liam actively dislike each other, but try to get along for Riley’s sake.

Did the relationship start polyamorous, or was it a monogamous relationship that eventually opened? Oh, it started monogamously with Riley breaking up with Max to date Liam, then descended into a toxic hot mess when Liam broke her heart but then refused to let her go (there was an iron-clad marriage contract involved).

If it started monogamous, how did the process of opening the relationship go? Well, basically Riley just did whatever she wanted and tried her best to push Liam away. He refused to be pushed though and eventually agreed to a Cordonian Arrangement (a clause added to the marriage contract that legally opens it). Once he developed his own feelings for Max, and realized that you can, in fact, love more than one person at the same time, he chilled out a lot with the jealousy.

Are there any mono-poly relationships in the polycule? Aaaghh! Yes!! Drake remains mostly monogamous (he has engaged in a threesome, but he doesn’t think that counts since Riley was one of the participants; it was her idea, and she chose the other person).

What “shape” is the polycule? A triad, a “V”, a straight line of metamours, or incomprehensible? Listen. It’s complicated lol. Again, I went into great detail here. Basically63, Liam, Max, and Riley are a triad and they are nesting partners. But since Drake is also a nesting partner, even though he’s mono and only with Riley, I count them as a quad. Rashad is Riley’s lover and he is solo-poly with lots of other partners, so he is not a nesting partner but part of the extended polycule.

Where do each of the members land on the “solo poly” to “entwined” spectrum? As stated above, Rashad is solo poly. He dates very casually but is married to his job. His only deep emotional entanglement is Riley but even for her, he wouldn’t change his lifestyle. They work because she would never ask him nor want him to. After all, she has (functionally) three husbands already. Riley, Drake, Liam, and Max are about as entangled as it gets. They live together, work together, and often share a bed.

Where do each of the members land on the “free agent” to “community oriented” spectrum? Rashad and Riley are free agents. Siobhan too. Max and Liam are very community oriented. And, despite the grumpy exterior and being annoyed a lot by Max, Drake is pretty community oriented as well.

How did each member realize they were polyamorous? Did they always know, or was there some sort of epiphany? Max always knew… he was poly before he met Riley. He’s the one who told her about it when she asked him what was wrong with her for having feelings for more than one person at a time. Riley figured it out quickly. Liam took a little longer, but he got there eventually. What started as a one-time threesome with Riley and Max turned out to be a potent combination of physical attraction and a lifelong friendship that ended with him falling hard and fast for Max, with Riley’s enthusiastic blessing.

Do any of the current members practice hierarchical polyamory? Who are the primary partners? Oh, yes. I understand that a lot of people find hierarchy unethical but if you ask Liam, he will tell you that he is Riley’s husband and furthermore, he is the king and Riley is his queen making their marriage and the ruling of Cordonia the first priority. Mostly everyone is on board with that and it works. Not always though. Riley would say she loves each of them differently but she does not love one more than another. Max is pretty submissive in personality, and since he’s in love with both Riley and Max, he would not dispute that Liam and Riley’s relationship is primary, he’s just happy to be part of it. Drake’s biggest issue in the beginning was seeing himself as NOT primary. Being monogamous, he saw her marrying Liam as her choosing Liam over him, and it took him leaving for a while to come to terms with it. He still struggles with it from time to time, but now they have open communication and are always able to work through it.

If the polycule is hierarchical, what differs in the boundaries set for primary vs secondary partners? Tertiary partners? Drake doesn’t have other partners. Liam does casual hookups when he travels. Riley occasionally does. Protection is a huge thing that everyone must use if they are going outside the primary quad. I haven’t explored this issue much but I have thought about writing some one-shots around this issue. Since they are pretty closed, catching feelings for someone outside the established polycule might be an issue. This question is making me think I need to explore this in some one-shots.

#poly fic #trr fanfic #the royal romance #trr au #the royal romance fanfic #trr #angelasscribbles #poly asks

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ckret2 · 10 months ago

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Follow up on Bill gender: Bill and Mable's gender conversation implied that one could have a number-of-sides identity which might not be reflected by your... assigned shape? This analogy is breaking down. To the question: Do you think that was true in his real life home dimension, or just something he was chill about on a whim? Will it ever come up in the fic?

Yeah, there were trans shapes. Bill is one of them! Like I'm calling him "triangle" for simplicity but really it's pyramid which is like 4/5 triangle and 1/5 square simultaneously in a higher-dimensional way, but like also he's been calling himself a spherical triangle for literally a trillion years and he's still kinda loyal to that identity because he's only been thinking of himself as a pyramid for 4000-odd years, and spherical triangle captures some of the experience of being 2D in a 3D way but not all of the experience and it leaves out the squareness so pyramid's more accurate but "pyramid" doesn't reflect the whole "grew up with psychic powers" experience and Bill thinks being psychic is an important part of his gender identity still so like he's wondering whether fourth-dimensional hyperspherical pyramid is the best fit, but he doesn't FEEL 4D, he feels 2D in a 3D way—you know what, you know what, it's complicated, you're just a human, you can call him a triangle, it's fine, it's close enough, really, he's somewhere under the triangle umbrella, it's fine, don't worry about it, really don't worry about it, it's cool, he's cool with it.

Hectorgon decided somewhere along the way that he didn't feel like a 2D hexagon anymore and got some work done and is a 3D hexagonal prism now and is content with it. Amorphous Shape has stuff going on with them Bill can't even beGIN to make sense of but sometimes they look like a bunch of squares and sometimes they look like a bunch of other polygons and everyone just nods and goes with it, and tbh naming yourself Amorphous Shape is sort of like renaming yourself Genderfluid Human and then all your friends nickname you Derf. Bill's dad was intersex in one direction and picked up a trans-ish gender presentation in a totally different direction. As a child Bill met another spherical shape that looked like a line in the second dimension but in the third dimension was a polygon—a biangle—struggling to get that recognized as an actual sex.

And all this is like, the shape equivalent of having a gender that can't be described with anything less than five terms and a freshly-baked set of new neopronouns. There were also more conventional trans identities—assigned squares who wanted to be seen as lines, triangles who wanted to be seen as pentagons, hexagons that were sometimes hexagons and sometimes octagons, septagons that felt sideless, etc.

Bill's stance on all this since he was equivalent-to-a-teen has been Anybody Can Do Anything They Want Forever.

He got in fights with his dad about whether including biangles when greeting his audiences—"Welcome, lines, bis, and tris; quads, quints, and more"—would alienate the Traditional Members Of The Audience.

I don't know how much of all of the above will ever actually make it into the fic aside from discussing biangles.

#anonymous #ask #bill goldilocks cipher #shape gender

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bonkbobl · 6 months ago

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joyous laughter

ROOSE BOLTON X READER

a/n: wait im writing this because it was a tangent idea i had while writing this fic that i already posted but its not required for you to read that fic. its set before that fic. and honestly, later down the line, i might write an alternate route that this fic goes in thats not as dark as the original💀

summary: roose's attitude to you is somewhat complicated: he agrees with you ideologically but hes conflicted about your personality. meanwhile you feel some inexplicable need to win his favor.

warning: some subtle slutshaming but roose just doesn't understand his feelings, roose is grumpy, drunk, unspoken/unrealized feelings, lots of teasing

Roose watched in contempt while you made your rounds through the tables, laughing and trading jabs with all the younger lords in the King's army — anyone who had anything to their name, really. It was laughable to watch you flounce about as if you weren't a respectable lady. On more than one occasion, the honorable King had to help you to your chambers to ensure a less virtuous man might not swoop in and take advantage of you.

Catelyn usually laughed at the actions of her ward, shaking her head. She had told Roose that you'd always been a wild one but you were hard to dislike. There wasn't a single Stark child you couldn't get on with and while you had been a hassle at times, you had pure intentions.

Roose considered those praises strange. If he had sired a daughter that behaved this... promiscuously — making bold references to the "little Karstark" and if "he" could "get up" — well he'd have trained it out of you much sooner than the age you currently stood at. He wouldn't have stood for such behavior. But he supposes you are not Catelyn's daughter. Perhaps that's why your upbringing appeared to be so lax.

But even so, he always considered the Starks to be a little soft when it came to the rearing and grooming of their children. Their independent spirits were coddled. There's seldom a Stark child that truly understands the harsh way of the world.

He twirled a coin in his hand, his composure slightly tenser than what was characteristic of him, as he watched you lead the men at a table two across from his to sing with you. Among them, the young Karstark, the Wolf King that Roose faithfully and reluctantly served, and Robett fucking Glover. Roose hated that bumbling fool.

A shameful display, indeed.

And such a waste. It seems during council meetings Roose always forgets himself and he even nearly finds himself enjoying you there. But where you agree tactically and politically, he fails to truly find you to be an agreeable person, despite what praises Lady Stark may sing about you.

-------

You laughed brightly, stumbling away from the table as the boys started to get physical with each other, pulling each other to dance as if they were in a ballroom. It was fun to watch the boys be boys despite the fact that during the hard and difficult days you would deal with grave matters of life and death.

It was your very very small, insignificant way of giving back. If talking and drinking with the men helped at all, if sitting on Robbs advisory council aided his war efforts in the slightest, if simply being there to act as moral support was appreciated, you would do it. The Starks had been more than welcoming, raising you as if you were their own.

Looking around, you smiled and let your inebriated mind soar through the wind that blew your dress softly. And when you settled back down to Earth, your eyes fell on a cold, distant, and critical pair that were set on you from across the quad. Roose Bolton.

He frightened many. You would not lie and say he does not frighten you. But even so you felt emboldened when you were around him. It was a paradox that stirred within you and you couldn't explain it. But life is filled with these silly paradoxes. You feared him and yet his presence at council meetings instills you with a desire to perform. You've spoken for and against his advice on multiple occasions.

So even though it made your chest feel as if it were sinking into you, you braced yourself to approach him.

Roose watched you lock eyes on him and sighed, rolling his eyes and straightening his back when you started toward him.

You stopped in front of him. "Could I fetch you a drink, my lord?" You licked your dry lips, chaffed from the wind and not helped by the alcohol and if you were in a clearer state you would have noticed his eyes flicker down for a second. But you didn't.

He doesn't know if you realize the way you arch your eyebrow and slur your words at him makes you look. Like some tavern wench or worse, a whore in a brothel. Surely you must be aware of your blatant flirtation.

"I don't partake," he responded curtly, looking back down and stowing the coin he had been fiddling with.

"You don't?" You chimed, curiously. And you bent over, leaning your hands on the table to make it easier to lower your dizzy self to sit next to him. "Why ever is that?" You groaned, taking a relaxing stance, sort of still leaning into him, arm resting on the table. You were fully unaware of yourself and your decency.

Roose caught a glimpse, though he turned away, blood rising at the fact that you so brazenly exposed your chest to him. He had taken note, of course, minutes ago, when you were still at the other table. You kept your dress laced a little too loosely in the front. Once these parties started you always loosened up a little. It left your bosom indecently exposed.

"Roose?"

He turned back to you at the smooth sound of his name rolling off your tongue. You'd never said his name to him like that before. At the King's table it was always Lord Bolton, My Lord, The Lord of the Dreadfort, Dreadlord if you were feeling cheeky.

You sat, turned toward him, holding your head as it drooped to the side, steady with your entire bicep on the table in front of you. You stared up at him, smiling to him, teasingly. You should go to bed.

"It muddies the mind," he spoke pointedly, the deep rumble of his tone drawing you in.

Your lips quirked up further as you thought on your response, "Is that not the point. So that we don't have to think of all the boys here who will never see their mothers again?"

He chuckled, "For some, perhaps it offers a relief. I dont require such a relief."

"Surely you require some relieving, Roose Bolton. It sounds dreadful to walk about your entire life only doing what is necessary. Everyone needs to release the tension building within, in some form or another."

He evaluated you closely. He would be lying if he said he was completely repulsed by you. He'd be lying if he said he wasn't somewhat pleased by the fact that you'd come to sit with him. And he'd be lying if he said he didn't notice he's the only one you've ever sat down to talk with one on one during these feasts.

All those boys fighting for your attention. And here you are... talking with him. About relieving himself and releasing his tension... in some form or another. He couldn't help but chuckle at your boldness.

"What are you laughing at?" You smiled brightly, "Since when do you laugh?"

Roose scoffed, closing his mouth, and he forced his smile into a line as he evaluated you further.

Your smile wavered but only slightly, as you found yourself completely taken by his intensity.

"You dont find yourself amusing?" He asked. But you understood it as You amuse me. You intrigue me.

"What amuses you about me?"

And he was careful not to give you the satisfaction of hearing him chuckle or even breathe positively. He can't have you thinking you might in any way, shape, or form, be special to him. He knows how your arrogance works. You find any reason to feel special. He can just hear the whispers — I'm the only woman thats ever roused a laugh from Roose Bolton.

"You are uncouth," He stated flatly.

And he watched you recoil and your smile really wavered. But you laughed, a little awkward, and you straightened up. "What makes you say that?"

Roose huffed one last humorous breath and stood from the table. "I'll see you in the morning, my lady. Do get some rest soon. The war does not plan itself. And get our King to take some rest as well. We will need his mind sharp for tomorrow"

You watched him stride off in the direction of his tent and slumped, dejected. He makes you feel like a child. You found yourself looking back at the spot through which he disappeared again, eyes lingering. And some feeling rose within you. You will make Roose Bolton respect you. If it's the last thing you do.

The next morning at the Kings table, you did just that. Satisfied that nearly every time you spoke, Roose Bolton would crack a smirk or an approving nod.

It really made your stomach twist, in some strange way that was foreign to you.

You didn't put too much thought to the feeling.

There was only one thing you did know for a fact, when it came to the lovely Dreadlord, and you made sure that the entire camp knew of it: You were the only woman you knew thats ever managed to rouse a laugh from Roose Bolton.

#roose bolton x reader

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sixhours · 7 months ago

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i know you by heart - chapter 4

Series Chapter Index | Read on AO3 | Complete

Rating: Explicit, 18+, here be smut Series tags: The Last of Us, The Last of Us (HBO), Prospect, Joel Miller x Ezra, Joel & Ellie, Ezra & Cee, Joel is bad at feelings and relationships, Ellie is a little shit (affectionate), mostly follows canon after season 1, SMUT, gay sex, bisexual!Joel, period-typical homophobia, light angst, romance, age gap (~10ish years), I've probably forgotten some so please let me know <3

Chapter notes: Y'all, this whole story is easily the smuttiest thing I've ever written. You're welcome. Look for the ++++SMUT+CUT++++s if you want to avoid it.

Here's some happy stuff before things get a li'l rocky.

He justifies it by telling himself it was a one-time thing.

When it happens again three days later, this time pinned to Ezra’s bed by his dark eyes and mouth moving over him, he tells himself it’s just sex.

And when it keeps happening with a certain regularity–not frequently, but enough to establish a pattern–he tells himself he’s doing her a favor, not complicating their lives with…whatever this is.

But something in Joel has woken from a long slumber. He and Ezra keep a friendly distance in public, but it’s easy to give in to the want that’s always simmering, and more than once he finds himself pulling Ezra into a secluded alley or the darkness of the greenhouse shed, frantic as teenagers among the rakes and buckets and bags of soil. He feels like a kid again, new and fumbling and overeager. If Ezra notices, he doesn’t seem to mind.

They don’t get much time. Once a week, twice if they’re lucky, on the days when patrols and work assignments line up and Ellie and Cee are otherwise occupied. Ellie has friends now, a group to hang out with after chores and school. Some days it seems like he only sees her as she’s walking out the door. It’s a natural separation that’s healthy for a kid her age…is what he tells himself. But her pulling away from him is almost a physical pain, necessary as it is.

The loneliness needs somewhere to go.

They meet at Ezra’s place more often than not. Cee’s room is in the attic, Ezra tells him, and she likes her privacy. When she’s at home, she spends most of her time with her headphones on. She’s a writer; he says this with more than a note of pride in his voice, and Joel thinks Ezra downplays his fatherly inclinations.

He learns Ezra can wax poetic about everything under the sun. Joel usually isn’t much for conversation, but he finds the constant chatter soothing. He rarely needs to do more than nod or grunt in acknowledgment while the other man listens to himself talk. It’s a lot like being with Ellie…in some ways.

But Ezra likes to use his mouth for other things.

Sporadic days of furtive touches and meaningful glances soon turn into weeks, and eventually, Joel can’t even make the excuses sound legitimate to himself…but he still doesn’t tell her.

The creek on the far side of the south quadrant is calm and warmer than usual for this time of year; perfect grounds for Ellie to learn. They trod a well-worn path through the overgrown park, past the south fields and grazing area, their towels slung over his shoulder. He’d found a pair of swim trunks and a rash guard for Ellie at the trading post, and he’s wearing the swimsuit of his youth, an old tank top and jeans cut off at mid-thigh.

The air is warm, lush with the scent of green things, early summer temperatures setting everything to bloom. Sun filters through the trees and dapples the ground as Ellie skips ahead.

Last night, limbs heavy and sated and tangled together with Ezra’s, he’d mentioned the creek in the south quad, the swimming lessons, the hope for good weather. He might have set down a time, and if Ezra and Cee happened to join them for an afternoon swim, all the better.

“It’s fucking freezing,” Ellie remarks, wading into the water up to her calves. “Why do I have to do this again?”

“Swimmin’s a good skill to have.”

What he doesn’t say: There’s a museum on the outskirts of Yellowstone. Someday he’ll take her to see the dinosaurs, and she’s gonna need to be able to swim to get there.

What he definitely won’t say: He’ll take any chance to spend extra time with her.

“On your back,” he says, now waist-high in the water, and Ellie scowls.

“You’re gonna drown me, aren’t you? Finally had enough of me. Gonna leave my body in the river and let it wash out to sea to cover the evidence.”

“You seen any oceans around here? No, I’m gonna teach you, if you’d stop yappin’. C’mon, lean back. M’not gonna let you go under.”

One hand behind her shoulders, the other under her thighs. “Take a deep breath. Put your arms out. There ya go.”

She lays back, squints up into the sky, winces and flounders to put her feet down when she feels him pulling away.

“You’re floatin’ already,” he grins. “Stop flailin’ around and you’ll stay up.”

“No, I won’t!”

“You will,” he says. “Try again.”

She does. She’s on her back, gentle current lapping at her prone form as Joel’s hands slowly retreat, leaving her buoyant.

Footsteps on the path, a familiar tuft of white hair and tan skin emerging onto the pebbled beach.

“Hello, young prodigy…and just Joel.”

“Hey Ezra! Look, I’m–”

She turns her head and raises her hand to wave, upsetting the delicate balance, immediately plunging beneath the surface of the water. She’s sputtering and swearing as Joel pulls her up.

“Told you to stay flat,” Joel says mildly. “Hey, Ez.”

Ezra peels off his t-shirt and tosses it on the shore, then dives under, coming up and shaking the water off his hair like a dog.

“How do you even swim like that?”

“Jesus, Ellie,” Joel sighs.

“Quite easily, gem,” Ezra says, turning on his side and gliding through the water, moving toward the deeper part of the creek.

Ellie wrinkles her nose. “Show off.”

“If I can do it one-armed, I suspect you can best me with two,” he says, flicking water in her direction, making her giggle.

“You ready to try again?” Joel asks her.

“Ugh, fine,” she says, but she’s on her back and floating within minutes, grinning up into the bright blue sky.

Joel shows her how to backstroke, then she gets brave and turns to her front. Joel keeps one hand under her belly at first, but soon she’s kicking away from him with a laugh, pulling herself through the water without touching the creekbed.

Eventually, Joel excuses himself to the pebbled beach, spreads his towel out, peels off the wet tank, and lets the sun beat down on his bare shoulders while he watches Ellie practice her dog paddle. Ezra swims alongside her like a seal, encouraging and–though she insists it’s not necessary–spotting her. Sometimes he meets Joel’s eyes and his smile is warmer than the mid-summer sunshine.

Ezra joins him a few minutes later, sprawling wet and dripping on his towel with a satisfied grunt.

“Cee couldn’t make it?”

“She’s an introverted sort. Likes her solitude and quiet.”

Joel arches an eyebrow. “An’ the poor girl ended up with you?”

Ezra pulls a face. “I can’t deny, the fates have a peculiar sense of humor.”

“Joel, look!”

Ellie dives under and the water churns around her, then pops up a few feet downstream.

“Told ya you’d float, kiddo. Keep your legs straight when you kick.”

“I do believe your young prodigy has taken to the water like the finest of aquatic mammals.”

“You could just say she likes to swim, Ez.”

“I scrimped and saved my hard-earned pay for the use of these academic adverbs, songbird, and I intend to get my money’s worth.”

“Y'know those student loan assholes are all dead, right?”

Ezra grins. “And a well-deserved death it was, the bastards.”

Joel feels Ezra’s hand slip gently over his and squeeze. Joel squeezes back before pulling away reluctantly, nodding toward Ellie.

“She, uh…she don’t know…yet.”

“All in good time, then,” Ezra says easily, tucking his arm under his head and closing his eyes. Joel tucks his chin on his shoulder, watches the man’s chest rise and fall as the water makes little tracks down his sides, feels a gentle tug of longing in his gut.

When he looks back to the water, Ellie is nowhere to be seen and the creek is quiet.

“Ellie?”

Look away for one goddamned second…

“Ellie!”

He’s up and waist deep in the water when her head breaks the surface to his left.

“Gotcha, motherfucker,” she crows.

Joel’s heart restarts in his chest. “Christ, kid, don’t fuckin’ do that to me.”

She giggles. “Got you back in here, didn’t it?”

“Shaved a few years off my life, y’mean,” he growls, hands darting out to grab her around the waist before she can get away. He lifts her up as high as he can and tosses her unceremoniously into the water to the sounds of her shrieked protests.

“You jerk!”

A small tidal wave slaps him in the face, leaves him swiping at his eyes and making for the shore. She tackles him from behind, arms around his shoulders, legs around his waist, leveraging herself onto his back like a baby monkey.

Joel catches Ezra’s eye, head rolled to one side, watching them with a smirk. Joel throws him a wink before turning his attention back to Ellie, hooking his hands under her knees and easily tossing her off his back.

“Dude, it is on ,” she says when she can speak again.

And if the swim practice eventually dissolves into a splash fight, well, that’s alright by him.

“Are you, like, seeing Ezra or something?”

Ellie meets him at the stables after patrol to help settle the horses. They walk home together, Joel achy and tired from a full day on the trails, Ellie talking about the latest drama among her friends, when she asks the question.

Joel has to force himself to keep walking and not trip over his own feet, finding it suddenly hard to make his mouth formulate a response and move his body at the same time. “I don’t–we aren’t–”

“I mean, it’s fine if you are, dude,” she shrugs. “You’re just over there every week.”

“How did you–”

“He’s good to talk to,” she continues, kneeling to examine something on the road; a caterpillar. Joel watches as she picks up a nearby leaf, carefully scoops up the critter, and carries it safely to a patch of grass.

“You don’t…you’re okay with that?”

She wrinkles her nose. “Why would I care if you’re talking with him?”

“Right,” Joel rasps, tongue like sandpaper in his mouth. “Talking. Right, yeah. We…talk.”

It’s not a lie, Joel decides, because they are technically talking.

In bed.

Naked.

After all the not talking.

Fuck.

He needs to tell her. He’s going to tell her.

“Ellie, I–”

She spins on her heel, walking backward to listen to him, head cocked. “What?”

Before he can figure out what to say, she stumbles on a large rock, flailing. He’s just barely fast enough, grabbing her by the arm before she falls on her ass. She laughs as he pulls her close to steady her, keeps her there in a one-armed hug.

“Watch where you’re goin’, kid.”

When she looks up at him, her eyes are bright with affection. There’s color in her cheeks and she’s filled out with three square meals a day and a routine and she looks so…happy.

Maybe it’s the way her head tips back against his shoulder, reminding him of how it laid almost that way when he carried her from the hospital. His throat closes with shame at the thought.

Swear to me.

He can’t do it. Can’t tell her, not yet. Not when she has something–someone–stable for the first time in her life.

“S’nothin’,” he mutters, gently dislodging her from his arm, steadying her on her feet. “Let’s go home.”

Joel returns home from a late-night patrol shift exhausted and ready to fall into bed. He trudges through the door to a note on the kitchen table.

“At D’s, Tommy said was OK - Love Ellie”

Love Ellie.

He smiles at that, feels the warm fuzzy grip of it resonate in his chest.

Suddenly not so tired, he takes a quick shower to wash off the day and goes to Ezra’s. He lets himself in, tiptoeing up the stairs, undressing in the dark.

“Songbird?” Ezra murmurs just as he’s slipping under the covers, curling naked around his lean body and nuzzling the back of his neck.

“Sorry,” Joel whispers. “Was tryin’ not to wake you.”

“On the contrary, mon cœur , I’m glad you did,” Ezra mumbles, reaching behind them to press the length of Joel’s body closer. Joel lets his hand trail up and down Ezra’s stomach and chest, firmer than his own, not as softened by middle age. His finger grazes the pebbled skin of one nipple and Ezra sucks in a breath.

“Mmm, I do hope you’ve crept into my bed tonight with less than gentlemanly intentions.”

“Think we can make that work,” he grunts, letting his fingers travel further south, slipping beneath the waistband of Ezra’s boxers.

“Ahh, delightful,” he groans as he takes him in hand.

+++++++++++++++++++++SMUT+CUT++++++++++++++++++++++

Joel growls in wordless agreement as he cups the velvet-soft skin of Ezra’s growing erection, holds him, traces the line from the tip of his head to the base of his shaft. He plants open-mouthed kisses along the column of his neck, the planes of his shoulderblades, tasting the salt and sweet of him. He drags the rough of his stubble against the shell of his ear until Ezra’s hips jerk forward of their own volition. With his own arousal aching and nestled between Ezra’s thighs, he sets a steady, easy rhythm with his hand, relishing every little moan and gasp of pleasure as he whispers nonsense and filth into his ear until he spills warm and sticky into Joel’s palm.

+++++++++++++++++++END+SMUT+CUT++++++++++++++++++++

After, he falls asleep with the younger man on top of him, Ezra’s cheek pressed to his stomach, fingers threaded in his curls.

He wakes some unknown time later, momentarily confused. The sex is familiar but the staying after is new. It takes another few seconds to get his bearings. Ezra is gone, and somewhere a girl is crying. Ellie? No…Cee.

He catches faint sounds overhead; Ezra’s baritone, low and soothing. Cee’s voice fading to quiet. Eventual footsteps.

Joel is still sitting up in bed when he returns. Ezra looks surprised to see him.

“I hope the little bird didn’t wake you.”

Joel shrugs. “Nothin’ new. She alright?”

Ezra nods and bites his lip. “She’ll make do. Fragments of the past come back to haunt us in dreams. We do our best to banish them, but…”

He trails off, lingers at the side of the bed, troubled.

“Ellie has ‘em,” Joel says, settling back against the pillows. “The nightmares. Not as bad now, but it was rough for a spell.”

“Mmm. The child suffers the sins of the father,” Ezra murmurs, as if lost in his thoughts.

“Thought y’said you ain’t her father,” he says, arching an eyebrow.

“I’m not. But I knew her father…in a different life. And his sins were none too dissimilar to my own...”

After a pause, Joel puts out a hand. “You gonna stand there and sulk or are you gonna get over here and tell me about it?”

“Shall I regale you with the tale of your favorite one-armed scoundrel and his trusty sidekick?” Ezra sighs, allowing himself to be pulled into bed.

“Who says you’re my favorite?”

That draws a dry laugh. “I wasn’t aware Jackson had another such resident traipsing about to compete for my affections.”

“Y’don’t,” he mutters, kissing the bridge of Ezra’s nose.

“Very well. But I’ll warn you, this story doesn’t paint me in a respectable light. In fact, I do believe it might cause you to–”

“Ez,” he says pointedly.

This earns him a side-eyed glare. He clears this throat.

“Cordyceps certainly brought out our baser instincts, and I was no different. We’re all apex predators underneath this…gauze of societal finery. Some of us are just better at it than others,” Ezra says, leveling his gaze at Joel. “Do you understand me, songbird?”

“Yeah…I hear ya.”

“No clinical text can prepare one for the end of polite society. I have, perhaps, walked the hair’s breadth of a line between lawful and not, but the end of the world turned a new page in the story of my life. Eat or be eaten, kill or be killed…and I knew which side of that equation I preferred.

“I fell in with a rough and tumble crowd after I found the overbearing drudgery of the Atlanta QZ…not to my tastes. At times, I could perceive my life as an observational case study in human behavior. I could separate myself from the…humanity of it. It was almost too easy to detach.”

His eyes have gone cold and pensive, his jovial, boyish mask forgotten as he speaks.

“There were a number of us…mostly men, a few women. The leader of our group was a man named Damon, and one of the women bore him a daughter before she passed. No doubt you see where this is going.”

Joel absently traces the lines and ridges of his hands, their warmth and softness in stark contrast to his words.

“That young girl’s name is Cee. And though the life of a raider was no place for a child, Cee was afforded a certain degree of…protection. But her father was a self-obsessed fool, too concerned with holding onto whatever meager power he could lord over the rest. Textbook narcissist, if you’ll allow me to don my psychotherapist’s cap for a moment. Cee was but another resource he could use to his advantage, and when he couldn’t…he didn’t give a shit, if you’ll pardon my French.

“He didn’t see the way the other men looked at her, or if he did, he didn’t…care to see,” he says, swallowing hard.

“I feel I should clarify before I continue that I’m not a good man, songbird. I was party to some abominable acts of treachery. I sat idly by while our women were used as toys, as bait…often worse. I had no interest in the fairer sex, but I was hardly their knight in shining armor.”

He takes a deep breath and lets it out in a controlled rush.

“I happened to be in the wrong place at the right time. She was cornered. One of the brutes clearly intended to have his way with her. So I disposed of him…my knife found the socket of his eye,” he says coldly. “To this day I harbor no regrets, but I knew we would both regret the punishment when it came.

“I admit, I wasn’t in my right mind. Or perhaps I was. I was seeing clearly the man I had become, the lows to which I had sunk, and I…couldn’t fathom being at my own mercy any longer.

“So I stood at the precipice of a new life and I…I offered her a choice. Stay with her father and his ilk to suffer the same fate, or come with me. And though I still don’t pretend to understand why…she chose yours truly.

“We all have our lines in the sand, songbird. Cee was mine.”

“I dunno,” Joel murmurs. “Think she did alright.”

Ezra offers a soft, sad smile. “It was winter. We were unprepared. We left what little we had behind and stole away that very night. But Lady Luck has followed me most of my life, and we always seemed to find a little extra, my birdie and I. We made it further than we had any right to.

“When the fine citizens of Jackson stumbled upon us, your esteemed sister-in-law among them, we were in a very sorry state indeed. I was ready to succumb to whatever whimsies they fancied. I suspect they might have preferred to put me down like a rabid dog, and I could scarcely blame them. But then…Cee protected me. Threw herself in front of a cocked gun and begged for my life.

“And so I remain steadfastly in her debt, songbird. I can’t claim to understand how to…to care for a girl like Cee, not in the way she deserves to be cared for. Truth be told, she’s wiser and more courageous than I could ever hope to be. But I have to try. She’s brought out something better in me, something…something I hardly know what to do with. Do you understand?”

“I do,” Joel whispers.

“I know you do. When I told you I sensed a kindred spirit, I didn’t just mean this,” he whispers, bringing Joel’s hand to his lips, brushing the faintest kiss along his knuckles. “I see the same in you and your young prodigy. Am I wrong?”

Joel purses his lips. “No.”

He nods. “Then I suppose the question becomes, how much good must one do to make up for a lifetime of atrocity? And will they understand when it’s time for us to pay the piper?”

Joel thinks of the long hospital hallways, the easy dependability of his hands as he fired round after round, each shot an echo of his own steady heartbeat, every one bringing him closer to Ellie. He tries and fails to find a shred of remorse in it, even now.

“We did the worst so they don’t have to,” Joel says softly. “If that ain’t a kind of forgiveness…I don’t know what is.”

Ellie’s 16th birthday is a barbeque in the backyard. Her friends come over–Dina and Jesse and Cee and a couple others, all of them clustered around games of horseshoes and cornhole, sneaking sips of beer when they think the adults aren’t looking.

Joel gives her her present the morning before the party when it’s just the two of them; a refurbished guitar upon which he’s carved twining vines and butterflies. He’d spent hours that winter in his workshop, sanding it smooth and coating it with stain and replacing the strings.

He ties a piece of ribbon around the fret and presents it to her with a shrug, her eyes shining as he holds it out.

“Offer still stands. I’ll teach you if you want–”

She wraps her arms around his neck before he’s even finished talking; not that he could with the lump in his throat.

“You promise?”

“Pinky promise,” he smiles into her shoulder.

She wrinkles her nose, pulls back to look at him. “What?”

“Y’know…pinky promise…?”

“Dude, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Sometimes he forgets there are so many things she never knew; pinky promises and Christmas presents and birthdays in the backyard.

“Oh…it’s, uh, somethin’ Sarah used to do. It’s like a handshake. But…I dunno. Here.”

He takes her hand, pulls at her pinky finger to extend it, then wraps it around his own, tugging lightly. “See? Pinky promise.”

“That’s…so lame,” she says, but she’s giggling as she says it, still holding on.

Sixteen , he thinks later, dazed by the sun and the sound of her laughter. Sixteen means patrol training. Sixteen is two more years than he got with Sarah. It’s both too much time and not enough.

Ezra shows up with a flat square of a package, something on vinyl that Ellie unwraps and fawns over. When she hugs him, his look of frank surprise catches Joel’s from across the lawn. Even Tommy didn’t get that treatment, and his birthday gift was probably the favorite–he’s chaperoning an overnight camping trip outside the wall.

“Now that’s a sight I never expected to see when I signed off on mandatory counseling,” Maria says, sidling up to him at the grill. “Thought for sure she’d fight him tooth and nail.”

Joel rumbles a quiet acknowledgment, poking at the venison sausages. “Not the only one.”

“She’s a good judge of character, though,” she says quietly. “Present company included.”

“That your way of sayin’ sorry?”

“It’s my way of saying I’m glad you’re both still here.”

Just a year ago, he and Ellie had crossed the threshold into a whole new life. There were times when he was sure Maria would have preferred he turn around and go back to Boston and stay there. As many times as Tommy tried to convince him otherwise, it’s still a shock to hear it from the source.

He clears his throat. “Heard Tommy’s takin’ ‘em camping tonight. Can’t tell if that husband of yours is crazy or stupid or both.”

Maria laughs softly. “He’s desperate to make your kid like him, Joel. I swear, sometimes I think he’s more invested in Ellie than his own daughter.”

“Dunno ‘bout that. Izzy has him wrapped around her little finger,” he says, reaching for his beer. “Ellie’s just a little harder to win over.”

“Worth it, though,” Maria says.

He watches as Ellie successfully makes a ten-point shot with a beanbag, pumps her fists in the air and lets out a crude, “hell yeah!”

“Yeah, I reckon she is.”

Later, he’s trapped in a stilted conversation with one of the neighbors–a woman he doesn’t know but he’s pretty sure Maria invited on purpose if the way she’s hanging off him is any indication–when he sees Ezra head into the house.

Relieved to have an excuse to get away, he says a terse goodbye and makes his way inside. He finds Ezra at the kitchen sink.

“Songbird,” Ezra murmurs.

“How’d you know it was me?” Joel leans against the counter, arms folded, getting as close as he can without being too obvious. He watches Ezra plunk a handful of plates into the soapy water.

“You have a very particular tread.”

“I do, huh?”

“Mmm. I apologize for ducking out. I would have said something out there but it seems you were otherwise…preoccupied,” Ezra says with a hint of amusement.

“Yeah, sorry ‘bout that,” he says, frowning at the floor. “Think Maria keeps tryin’ to set me up.”

“Maybe you should tell her you’re already spoken for.”

Joel swallows hard. “That right?”

There are moments where Joel has imagined something more. Moments when they’re tangled up and sweaty and soft in a way he thought he’d forgotten how to be, where he thinks they could have…something. The kind of something he hasn’t felt in decades.

“I’d be lying if I said I wouldn’t enjoy a more exclusive arrangement. I fear we’re both getting too long in the tooth to keep sneaking around like a pair of star-crossed lovers.”

“Who you callin’ long in the tooth?” he mutters, bumping his hip into the other man’s side.

“I do believe you have a solid few years on me, songbird,”

“Haven’t heard you complainin’.”

“And you most certainly will not,” he grins. “I like my men fully fledged.”

“Christ,” Joel says, biting back a smile. “So, uh…you think I invited you over here to do my dishes?”

“Is that a euphemism, cher ?”

Joel rolls his eyes, suppresses a shiver of pleasure at the endearment, usually spoken behind closed doors.

“No, I realize you haven’t solicited me for my housekeeping services,” Ezra continues. “But I thought you might appreciate a hand.”

“Ain’t that a euphemism?”

“Depends,” Ezra lowers his voice. “Will I have the pleasure of your company tonight?”

Joel looks around, suddenly self-conscious even though they’re alone. He chucks Ezra gently on the chin, eliciting a soft grin. It’s not a parting kiss, but it will do.

“I’d like that.”

That evening, he and Ezra stand at the gate to see Ellie, Cee, Tommy, and their crew off after extracting multiple reassurances that they’ll stay within radio distance and be back before noon. Joel swallows a healthy dose of fear, claps Tommy on the shoulder, and gives Ellie a side hug that goes on for just a beat too long.

Sixteen. Christ.

But then Ezra is by his side. They walk down Rancher Street together, anticipation blooming in the early evening glow. The door has barely closed behind them before clothes are divested, and a shared shower quickly devolves. They don’t bother drying, just fall into Joel’s bed wet and naked and pliant.

+++++++++++++++++++++SMUT+CUT++++++++++++++++++++++

Joel’s cock hits the back of Ezra’s throat, and he barely restrains himself from lifting his hips to push himself deeper. It’s too good, the hot, wet silk of Ezra’s mouth sliding over him. He brings Joel to the brink and back again, and again, and again, drawing out his pleasure until he finds himself making sounds he’s never made before.

Whining. Whimpering. Pleading.

At one point, he’s braced against Joel’s cocked knee, hand cupped around Joel’s shaft as he laps hungrily at his head, taking him in as deep as he can before pulling back and swirling his tongue. Then one slick finger presses in, curls up deep, and Joel’s groan is a full-throated animal cry. Caught in the throes, he shifts his knee and Ezra loses his balance, pitching forward, nose to Joel’s stomach.

“Shit,” Joel hisses, contrite. “Shit, Ez, I didn’t–”

But Ezra is laughing, righting himself and leveraging Joel’s shoulder to crawl up the length of his body until they’re chest to chest.

“Could have just said you wanted a kiss, songbird,” he murmurs, capturing Joel’s lips before he can apologize, making him forget why he was sorry in the first place. Then his fingers are trailing a slow but steady path between his legs and pressing inside again.

“Fuck, Ez, I–I can’t–”

“Shhh,” Ezra whispers in turn, two fingers now working in deeper, deeper. “Relax, cher . All that tension will make it mighty hard to do what I intend to do.”

“Fuuuuuck,” Joel growls, leg thrown over Ezra’s hip. His hands slide over his body without aim, finally settling on his face, pulling him in for another kiss, letting his tongue trace the plush bottom lip, nipping and supping until he’s dizzy and aching for more.

Then he’s suddenly, brutally empty, and he groans at the absence.

“Patience is a virtue, mon cœur ,” Ezra whispers, lining himself up, the hot length of him pressing inside.

Joel’s eyes are squeezed shut. He’s so full he’s forgotten how to breathe. When he opens them, Ezra is watching him with that look, the one that cuts him open and shines a light on all his most vulnerable parts. He groans, lets his thumb wander to the curve of Ezra’s lips, the corner of his mouth. Ezra takes it in, sucking hard until Joel’s cock kicks against his stomach.

“There he is,” Ezra pants, withdrawing and sinking back in. “So tight, songbird. Oh, mon amour , you do know how to treat a gentleman.”

“Ez, fuck–” he grits out, unable to focus enough to form a coherent thought, but Ezra’s mouth is on his again and he doesn’t need to think, doesn’t need to breathe, doesn’t need anything except the hot weight of his body rolling him onto his back, grinding into him, cock leaking and aching with the friction.

“Touch yourself, mon amour ,” he grits out. “I find myself lacking a hand with which to do so or I would happily make myself of service to the cause–”

“Ezra,” Joel pants, desperately trying to concentrate on adjusting to the aching, throbbing fullness within him. “Do you…ever…shut…up?”

Laughter, cut short as Joel clenches around him. “I suspect…you already know the answer–ohh yes –to that question.”

Ezra nudges that spot deep inside that makes Joel’s breath catch. He can’t resist any longer, palming his cock roughly as Ezra continues that slick, delicious slide, sawing over that spot again and again.

“Ez, ‘m gonna–”

But Ezra is preoccupied with the hollow of his throat, lips and tongue suckling, so sensitive it makes him keen. Joel lets out a cry as his cock throbs and throbs and spurts of come glaze Ezra’s stomach.

“Oh, oh, oh songbird that’s–”

Three sharp, almost painful thrusts and he’s there, spilling inside, then barely holding himself up. Joel pulls him down, revels in the weight of the other man’s lanky body on top of his sturdier one, stuck together by their shared mess.

+++++++++++++++++++END+SMUT+CUT++++++++++++++++++++

“Fuck,” whispers Joel into the white-blonde tuft of Ezra’s hair when his heart rate has finally returned to a reasonable cadence.

“Words…fail me,” Ezra mutters into his throat, and Joel grins and barks a laugh, full-throated and raw.

“That’s not fuckin’ possible.”

“Aha, so there is a sense of humor somewhere under that brutish demeanor,” Ezra says, audibly delighted.

“Shuddup,” he mutters, nosing at the other man’s cheek until he tips his head up and kisses him with all the tenderness he can muster, which, as it turns out, is a great deal.

#the last of us fanfic #tlou fanfic #queer fanfic #prospect fanfic #joel miller x ezra

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