#tumbling intimacy

[mysticworks]

One day too late ~ LN4 x Reader

Lando x Pregnant! Reader; Coworker! Reader; Very Angsty; mentions of intimacy but nothing explicit; Borderline Forbidden love; Reader & Lando are friends with feelings

S Y N O P S I S:

Carried away at the party, you and Lando share a beautiful night. Lando, worried about the implications on his career, urges you to pretend it never happened, ignoring your feelings for each other...until 6 weeks later you find out you're carrying his child. Word count: 1.5k

[ Drop a comment to be tagged in part 2 ]

A beam of sun in your eyes pulled you out of your slumber.

Sore. Head pounding. A deep ache in your lower stomach.  

It took you a few seconds to realise that this wasn't your room. The unfamiliar sheets, the duvet much thicker and heavier. There seemed to be so much room across the mattress, stretching out in its emptiness. 

Then every memory from last night came tumbling through. 

After a launch party of the new 2024 season, you’d found yourself a little too lost in the celebrations, Lando right beside you in fits of giggles and dances. 

You'd always had feelings for Lando, ever since you joined the PR team during his rookie days - the working time together bonding into a quickly growing friendship. Yet something had always stopped you from taking it further.

And so when Lando placed his hands on your waist last night, his face inches away from yours before your lips finally collided - every rational thought was thrown out the window. 

The heat of the party. The excitement and psychedelic blood rush. Climbing into Lando’s car. Your legs, entangled. His whisper of sudden hot, breathless confession. Your heart pounding in reciprocated emotions. Your hands in his curl, his... 

You shot up in bed, last night now a vivid image.

Lando was sitting across the room, on his computer, headphones flung around his neck. His eyes flick away from the computer screen at your sudden movement, coming to rest on you, and he draws in a long breath.

You felt the air leave your lungs. How did he manage to look so gorgeous even in the mornings? 

“How are you feeling?” You blinked at his break of silence, words not quite making it out of your mouth. 

“Yeah, I’m…” Raking your fingers through your curtain of bangs in an attempt to collect your thoughts, “I’m fine.”

“Don’t worry, I’ve got the pounding headache too.” Lando shrugged, sighing, before powering down the screen and in a swift motion making his way across the room, over to you. 

Awkwardness suddenly overcame you and you did everything to avert your gaze from his. 

This proved pointless as he sat himself in front of you, the mattress dipping under his weight. You could feel the warmth radiate off his body, his finger coming to rest under your chin as he forced your eyes to meet.

“Are you okay?” There was a sadness in Lando’s eyes, one that didn’t quite match the gentleness of his voice. You mumbled a reply, feeling the heat rise in your cheeks - his face was so close - forcing your heart to respond with a quickened beat.

“Listen, I’m sorry for last night.” Your brows found themselves furrowing at his words.

“Sorry?” 

“We shouldn’t have…” He raked his curls, shutting his eyes tight for a brief moment, as if pained to say the words. 

His voice was quieter when he spoke again, “We shouldn’t have done what we did y/n.”

You felt something stab at your chest. “I don’t understand, Lando, I like you, you like me, we’ve known each other for years…what’s…what’s the - ” 

He didn't give you a chance to finish. “I can’t risk having…I just can’t risk a relationship right now. We can’t - ”

He pauses, gaze softening as you feel your eyes well up, but you’re determined to keep a stoic expression on your face.   

It didn't help that Lando was looking at you with such an intense look in his eye, his hand cupping your cheek before tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. 

“Are you saying we can't date?”

You felt your voice betray you, a single tear spilling down your cheek. Lando used his thumb to wipe it away, taking in a shaky breath. 

He looked away. “Please. I’m sorry.” His eyes were almost telling you to stay, now also welled with redness, but his words said differently. 

You felt the world collapse. Your breath hitched. A tremor shot through your limbs as you scrambled out from Lando’s bed. He got up too from his seat, standing limply in the centre of his room.

It was then you realised you were in his clothes, his loose tee reaching your knees, a pair of his joggers clumsily worn over your legs. You paid no heed, now eager to just leave. To run away and hide. 

Never had rejection been so cold. It was almost like he’d used you. A part of you wanted to scream at him, throw things and ask him “why,” yet you felt as if life had been sucked out of you. 

One of the best days of your life had been merely hours ago, before turning into a nightmare. 

“Y/n…” You’d only just reached the door, but his call made you stop in your tracks. There was a shameless hope he’d changed his mind. 

“Here. It’s cold out.” 

He held out one of his hoodies, passing it to you in a gesture to take it. 

You did. Curt and refusing to meet his gaze, before turning around stiffly.

And without another word, you left his apartment, refusing to look back.

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

You weren’t sure when you got home, drenched from the rain that came gushing down along the way. 

You weren’t sure of much…only that your relationship with Lando was over. 

Over before it had even begun.

Climbing out of bed the next day was the worst feeling. With no energy in your limbs, you called in sick to work, refusing to face anyone at the McLaren office, but more importantly, avoiding Lando. 

You stayed in bed, too exhausted from crying to move. 

It wasn’t until a week later that you finally showed up at work. The pain seemed to have subdued; now replaced with forever changing moods. At times you were down in the dumps, exhausted and tired - your head slightly foggy - other times, irritable and angry. Yet you ploughed on at work, ignoring the sleepless nights and restless evenings. 

Avoiding Lando at work was near impossible, and yet you managed. Only speaking to him when absolutely unavoidable through email, or putting on your best corporate voice. 

Eye contact was avoided altogether, even when he craned his head to catch your gaze, you turned away. 

That was a satisfaction you refused to give him.

At 2 weeks it seemed the restless nights had been replaced with exhausted ones, a full night's sleep still leaving you fatigued and nauseous in the mornings. You blamed the sickness on heartbreak. 

Lando watched you more often now, sitting in the lobby of your office during lunch breaks. You turned down the blinds and shut him out.

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

The realisation came, 6 weeks post heartbreak. A quick glance at your calendar told you you’d missed your cycle. The nausea, tiredness, mood swings all made sense now - each jigsaw piece coming together to fit the puzzle. 

Although the fear of raising a baby alone rose in your throat, you were determined to do it. You knew Lando had a right to know. Yet somewhere, deep down in your heart, you refused to give him that.

Perhaps you were running away.

Perhaps this was your revenge.

Your resignation made sure he’d never know. 

L A N D O 'S P O V:

They say you don’t know the value of something until it’s gone. I've learnt this truth the hard way.

I’ve watched her everyday since that night; desperately trying to catch her eye at work; take her aside and apologise. Tell her we can make this happen... start over, uncaring of the world and it's concerns.

I've watched her everyday, slowly starting to shrivel. The bags under her eyes, the tiredness in her smile. I’ve watched her at lunch, nibbling at almost nothing at her plate before silently excusing herself away. 

It devastates me to know that this pain is from me. I have caused it and she didn't deserve it. How I wish I could tell her that I was wrong. I was so, so wrong. 

I miss her smile. Her company; once a comfort. I miss having her by my side; encouraging; so full of energy.

And so this is my chance. My chance to finally set things right.

Clutching the bouquet - glitter roses I spent the last night making - I head over to the PR query desk, determined to start again, if she can give me the chance. 

There’s a new member of staff at the desk; someone I’ve never seen before and he tilts his head up at me, hearing my approach, flashing me a smile. 

He thinks I’m here for a project meeting and begins to rise from his seat, holding up a clipboard as if ready to pass it over. 

“I’m looking for y/n, l/n.” A moment passes.

Legs jittering. Heart tight and constricted; there’s a sense of urgency swelling in me as if telling me to hurry, rushing me to make things right. My fingers tap at the desk, impatient. 

He gives a sigh, furrowing his brows and lowering the clipboard back into place. 

“I'm afraid she's not here. She gave in her resignation yesterday.”

The words hit me like a boulder to the chest.

My legs feel heavy, a tornado whirling in the pit of my stomach. My fingers unclench from the bouquet and with a soft thud, the flowers thud to the ground; petals ripping apart from impact.

They've crumbled. Glitter littering the floor.

It was over.

I was one day too late.

Taglist: @hc-dutch @racinggirl @aileeincomplexity @kravitzwhore @eringaitskill @adoreyou-ido @landoslutmeout @queenofmanydreams

[winterrrnight]

sometimes rafe craves your touch more than anything in this world and you comply to him within mere seconds <3 a rafe cameron x gn!reader blurb <3 cw: suggestive content (absolutely no smut!): neck kissing, soft praises, usage of nicknames like baby & baby boy, submissive rafe, loads of intimacy between the two <3

rafe has always had a strong dominant energy to himself, and you can certainly credit his father for most of it who raised rafe always telling him to ‘man up’. the dominance comes naturally in rafe, even in mundane everyday activities when he makes sure nothing ever happens to you.

but sometimes, all he wants is to be loved. to be the receiver and not the giver. to just let himself go.

you understand that need of his. rafe has never been good with expressing his feelings through words, and prefers his actions to speak for him. this specific need of his is usually expressed by him laying his head in your lap and gently nuzzling against your thigh, his body starting to go lax just the moment you start to card your fingers through his hair, your nails scratching oh so blissfully against his scalp which has him purring in your lap.

this sign by him is all that you need to know that he just wants some love and attention. he wants to hear your gentle words, wants to feel you close to him, and wants to just meld within you.

you have him laying back against the plush mattress as you sit in his lap, your legs on both sides of his hips as you straddle his waist. rafe has his hands on your thighs, gently massaging them through the material of your pants as you softly push your lips against his. one hand of yours comes to thread in his hair, the other caressing the side of torso through the fabric of his shirt, causing it to slowly ride up his abdomen.

your tongue gently swipes along his bottom lip and that coaxes him to part his lips to welcome you, your tongue delving to feel his warmth and heat in every single nerve of your body. he can’t help but let out a soft hum of pleasure against your lips, his fingers starting to dig into your thighs.

he parts from your lips a moment or so later, his lips parted, his cheeks flushed and his hair disheveled from your fingers being all wrapped up in it. “oh god…” he murmurs, his voice breathless and faint. you move your hand from his hair and move it to caress the other side of his torso, letting your fingers sneak under his shirt to feel the taut muscles of his abdomen beneath your fingertips.

“god baby…” he murmurs breathlessly as he feels goosebumps form over his skin wherever your fingers touch him, his shirt riding up more. “I need you… so bad…”

“I’m right here baby…” you say softly, your voice tinged with a comforting lilt as you watch soft exhales leave his parted, rubied lips, every cell of his body craving for more and more.

you dip your head down to let your lips meet the smooth skin of his neck, and you pepper gentle kisses along the slope of his neck, your fingers still tracing all over his abdomen.

a soft groan tumbles from rafe’s lips, his head moving back against the pillows involuntarily to let your lips trace more skin of his sensitive neck. “oh baby…” he whispers, his eyelashes fluttering as his fingers dig more into his thighs.

“just relax baby boy…” you whisper against the heated skin of his neck, wanting your words to simply sink into his skin themselves, “just relax… i’m here, and i’m not going anywhere,” you murmur between tender kisses as you let your lips move over his neck, trailing down to meet his collarbone and gently suck on it, feeling the skin starting to pinken under your lips.

you feel his fingers tighten on your thighs, as if he’s worried you’ll disappear into thin air. “i’m not going anywhere…” you repeat, shifting to the other side of his neck as you tenderly kiss it, letting his shirt above your fingers ride up more and more.

his soft sighs and hums of pleasure fill the amorous atmosphere around you two, only allowing you two to get more and more absorbed in it with each passing second. every fleeting touch of yours causes his skin to tingle, his ache to feel you closer to him only increasing. you let him grip on your thighs, gently tug on your shirt, let his fingers explore the expanse of your skin under the material of your shirt the way he wants to.

’cause you know he’s always the giver when it comes to the two of you.

and it most certainly wouldn’t hurt to let him feel the tender feelings he makes you feel.

[sugoi-writes]

REQUEST TIME :333 ummm this is actually my first time requesting here but I’ve been so obsessed with Human Alastor so maybe a sexy thing where he hunts you (fem reader) down in the wooded near his cabin with his shotgun? This is so dangerous lol but he’s shooting and splitting trees as you zip pass them in your nightgown (he would never shoot you it’s for the flare) you stumble over an old stump and he is on your ass! You fight and tumble around before he’s dragging you by your ankles back to his cabin to have his way with you? (All of this was very much consensual between the two of you elaborated foreplay if you will!)

Trigger Happy - Human! Alastor x Fem!Reader

My friend in Satan, I am SO sorry for how long this took! I was honestly getting worked up over it!!! Hate the delay, but I hope the story itself will be worth it! Just as a warning, this is getting towards risky territory, but I promise nothing too bleak. A few warnings: Guns, a heated foot chase, you get distracted there for a while, some physical violence/tussling, f!reader, some f!oral and m!oral, overtsim, rope/restraints, and some REALLY filthy penetrative sex. Y'all are some absolute freaks in this one. Hope you enjoy! (ALSO THIS IS LIKE INSANELY LONG IM SORRY ITS LIKE 9K--)

SPECIAL SHOUT OUT TO @minkdelovely and @hazelfoureyes for helping me through this and being my scream queens/beta readers dhoduhdouhdoduhdohidoi <3 (I'm in love with both of you BLINKBLINK)

Taglist: @ieatcocoa @nocturessa @tsukikos-stuff @leviskittywh0re

@polyo-nym-y @cosmiccandydreamer @littlebluefishtail @your-excellenc-z21 and others (if you wanna be tagged I'll add you! Sorry I've never made a taglist before???)

🩸🦌🩸

Your hands fidgeted in your lap as Alastor finished the final touches of tonight's meal. You regarded him nervously as his humming filled the humble interior of his inherited cabin. He was in such a good mood, you thought... Why spoil something so tender and domestic between the two of you?

For a while now, you knew of your darling beau's aversion to many things, physical intimacy being one he struggled with most. At least, compared to most... You hardly minded, as when you were on the receiving end of such of intimacy... Well, let's just say you could usually expect to be bedridden for a few hours. You swallow the bile creeping up, nerves reflected in your voice as you spoke," Alastor, dear?"

A pair of kind, almond-colored eyes looked upon you, making your heart leap. Alastor's eyes turned a warm amber when exposed to the charming lighting provided by the fireplace.

"Yes, darling?" Alastor cooed, his tone still airy and filled with a domestic softness.

"Could we... could we talk for a moment? Before dinner?"

Your partner gave you a bemused look, as if he were asked a ridiculous question. His hands settled on his hips as he rocks his weight onto his other foot, eyebrows raising.

"Dear, why let the food grow cold? Could we not discuss it over dinner? I tell you, it's JUST like my mother's; it's hearty, filling, and--"

"Alastor," you interrupt, a stern bite cutting through your meek tone," Pl-Please... If I try to tell you while you're eating, you'd probably choke." Alastor grants you an interesting look, eyes widening with your change in demeanor. But of course, he relents, sighing like a demure housewife.

"Well then, who am I to refuse... Choking is rather unpleasant, anyhow." Quickly, Alastor fusses over your meal, dousing the fire to let it simmer.

"Now then: we have a few minutes before I need to stir it. Tell me... what's troubling you?"

You gesture for Alastor to sit with you, to take his place at the table. He silently moves towards it in confident, wide strides. You watch nervously as he sits, crossing his legs formally. You felt the sweat trickle into your brow as his simple actions felt like they took an eternity... Alastor then sets his elbows on the table, resting his chin upon his folded hands. He looked... entirely too comfortable, a stark contrast with your stiff spine and sweating palms.

Alastor watches you quietly, granting you a moment to collect your thoughts. And then, you speak:

"Alastor... you know how-- well, it's been a while since we last-- Uhhm..." The quiver of your lip tips your partner off immediately, his eyes squinting. The smile that plays on his face is telling, his teeth gleaming under the dim light.

"Oh honestly, what am I to do with you? Yes, of course we can try for a little romp tonight. But... I sense that our standard 'bedroom practices' aren't the only thing clouding your mind?"

He just didn't get it. He didn't understand the weight of what was on your mind, and how quickly it was going to hit him. You were thinking of this for weeks, terrified of his reaction... But, in the comfort of the cozy, warm cabin: it was now or never. You felt a tinge of guilt as you felt his flirty smile widen, ready to shatter his expectations.

You nod in affirmation, forcing yourself to look his way fully," Right. I have an idea. Something to... change things up. 'Make it a bit more interesting, if you'll hear me out."

Alastor hums pleasantly, one of his hands gesturing outward in an animated way. He regards you just the same, opening the floor to you. You steel your nerves, hands turning to balled up fists as you formulate your next thought bluntly," I want you to hunt me, Alastor. I wanted to be hunted."

A silence befalls the room, causing panic to rise in your chest. Your chaste, Creole partner stares back at you, eyes wide. His expression was damnably neutral, as if processing your demand. You immediately start onto a tangent, leaning forward as you make your case.

"L-Look, I know how that sounds... I don't want you to actually hurt me or kill me-- I mean-- I feel like you'd be terribly sad if I were gone, but-- No, I mean in a more..."

When you trail off, you expect Alastor to pick up on your meaning. You sigh with frustration, your hands mirroring each other as they mimed your body's curves and contours," ...sexual... way."

Alastor's expression morphs under the light of the fireplace, which burned dutifully. Alastor's black pupils dilate, his mouth falling ajar. He sits upright in his seat, leaning back as he takes everything in.

" You want me to... pursue you. Hunt you... like I would wild game? Is... Is that what you're asking?"

You nod firmly, your hands trembling," I-I know, I know... it's different. I told you it would be different--"

"Different is hardly a bad thing, mon cherie... 'just surprising, is all," Alastor drawls, his eyes softening. He could see how much you were worked up. You were scared to disappoint; scared to be rejected. He hated to see the soured look on your face, and was determined to replace it with something else," What exactly do you have in mind? This-- pursuit of ours... what are the conditions?"

It was now your turn for your face to morph, a mix of surprise and relief, a faint heat brewing in your stomach," Well... I'd like you to treat it like a legitimate chase. I could be a deer, in a sense... something to bring home for dinner. You'd chase me, and I would do my best to fight back, run away...," your eyes wander over to the shotgun by the cabin door, eyes glazed from your impure thoughts," But I don't want you empty handed. I want... I'd like for you to bring the shotgun. Use it, even... as long as you don't actually try to kill me." Alastor's expression, you swore, was now the rawest it's been since you've first met him. His heart was on his sleeve: confusion, shock, delirium, and... some sort of desire. A hunger.

Alastor smoothly rises from the table, his footsteps almost echoing in the silence. He makes his way to his nightstand, fishing out something you couldn't see. When Alastor turns towards you, you hear a familiar clink, as his revolver shines in the warm light. He opens the chamber, showing to you that it is empty, before sealing it with a resolute spin. Your fists unclench, and you let out a breath that you hadn't realized you were holding.

"Dear, as lovely and authentic as it would be... I would hate to bring the shotgun. That tool is far too accurate and far too deadly, even in an inexperienced person's hands. A round so small can tear a hole wider than your skull, given the proper range..." When Alastor returned to the table, he sets the empty revolver there, your heart thumping at the implications. He slid it towards you, as if a peace offering," I wonder what may have caused this idea to fester... But it's one I'm most certainly intrigued by," he offers simply. You tried your best not to look away, his smile exposing just how fascinated he was with your proposal. His eyes were a dead giveaway: he was more than willing to carry this act out.

Your hand ghosts over the revolver, the wood of the grip much warmer than the cool metal of the barrel. Alastor clears his throat, calling your attention back to him," If I may, dearest, I also have a request..."

You feel your heart thudding loudly in your chest, the loud pulse making you deaf to the rest of the world.

"Which is...?" you attempt to counter smoothly, but the breathiness of your tone gives you away. Alastor's eyes squint, familiar with that lilt of yours. He relished seeing you like this: embarrassed, sheepish... But most of all, you felt an overwhelming desire to have him agree; have him take charge. His ego bloomed right under your nose... He wanted to see just how badly this desire had been burning inside of you.

"Do you recall the nightgown that you wore when we first embraced, love? The white little number with lace trim?" You nodded immediately, a heat rising in your face as you recalled your first night with your partner," Y-Yes... yes, I think I have it with me, actually."

Alastor moves over to your side of the table, kneeling down to your height. He grabs your chin, gently tilting your head to meet his eyes. You couldn't help the spark of desire that shot up your spine as a wicked smile stretches across Alastor's face," Good. I'd like to see it thoroughly ruined once I'm done with you."

You swore you had a stroke, your eyes wider than the dinner saucers that set the cozy, oak dinner table. You were brought back to reality as Alastor patted your cheek, practically singing when he spoke again.

"Now: let's eat. You'll need this to have your strength, dear~ The hunt starts this evening. Once dinner is finished, you'll have until I fully load the revolver to run. And that's when I'll come for you... understood?"

You had all but forgotten how to breathe, a stupefied nod his only reply as Alastor went back to the stove," Ohhh, almost forgot! We still have some bread from last night! I hope that's alright, dear~"

You were almost numb from the overwhelming sensations and emotions that coursed through your body. You were so excited and so nervous that you couldn't even think of eating. But Alastor had worked so hard to make you a fresh, homecooked meal... who were you to let it go cold? Despite yourself, you happily devoured the entire course, and were soon given seconds. Alastor grants you a coy smile, his expression saying what he kept silent: eat up. You're gonna need it.

---

Like the dutiful partner you were, you helped Alastor clean every dish and utensil used to prepare dinner. Ever the vixen, you even smeared some of the broth across his cheek, just to lick it off. The act made Alastor shudder, but he spared you, merely squeezing your hips and giving you a kiss. As for tonight... well, you wondered just how gentle he would be... if at all.

Once you had dried the last utensil, your ears perked up at the sound of a metallic clink. Your eyes widened, head whipping around to see Alastor opening the barrel to his revolver. He glances towards you, a neutral smile on his face," Oh! Sorry to startle you, dear. Just filling the chamber. 'Thought I heard something stalking outside... I might have to investigate it. You can never be to careful, these days."

You gasped, eyes dilating as you shook with anticipation. Now, now was the time.

You sprinted over to your suitcase, throwing it on the bed as you frantically searched for your nightgown. He was eager to start too, it seemed--

Click. First bullet loaded.

"I say, what a strange time of year...," Alastor rambled as he spun the glistening chamber, pushing up his glasses with the wrist of his other hand. The second bullet was clutched in his fingers, the rest scattered on the counter. You nearly shrieked as you frantically tear off your loungewear, exchanging it for the gown that Alastor requested. He would have thought the action was adorable and meek, if it weren't for his desire to fuck you stupid.

A bemused chuckle fills the air, dark and full of promise.

"What do you think is out there right now, love? A little rabbit, perhaps? With a fluffy white tail?"

Click. Second round.

You made your way hastily to the door as Alastor watched you, wiping the barrel of his revolver with the edge of his flannel. He was taking his time and making this spectacle: that you knew for sure. He seemed aloof, unbothered by your accelerated heartrate... but it agonized him to no end. This zesty little suggestion already had his mind reeling, possibilities of how he would claim you crossing over him every time he blinked.

"No, perhaps it's a deer? A doe, even? I hear it's about that time of year... mating season, that is." Your face grew hot at the notion, cursing yourself for not better preparing for this. You made sure to pull on your hiking shoes, tying the laces tightly. You prayed that they'd stay on to protect your feet.

Alastor hums with curiosity, blinking. Another image of you, trembling and moaning under his body, making his nethers pulse with interest.

"Ohh, maybe a bobcat! Something feisty... I wonder how it would taste?"

Click number three. Halfway through...

You turn around, chest already heaving as you made eye contact with Alastor. He saw you for the deranged, desperate animal that you were. His eyes matched your energy, an uncanny smile on his face. Alastor's pupils were mere pinpricks, the overwhelming expanse of amber and caramel brown nearly glowing.

"I don't know, baby... But whatever it is, I hope it runs fast," you grin to Alastor as he mirrors your expression, his tongue running across his pristine teeth.

"I'd hate to think of what would happen if you caught up to it."

With that, you were out of the door, unable to hear the rapid succession of bullets four, five, and six. Teasing be damned, he was making himself impatient. Alastor made a show of closing the weapon with a hard snap and spin, a satisfying weight settling into his hand. With the gun fully loaded, it just felt so... right. A fascination he gained from his father, unfortunately. Though he did appreciate the skills he learned from the sick bastard, that was the extent of his affection.

He'd have a good number of things to thank him for before the end of the night, as he slipped on his own pair of outdoor boots. When he stepped out onto the deck, he had caught a glimpse of you. That delicate little nightgown was fluttering and fleeting, catching the moonlight. It had to have been around 9 or 10 o'clock at night... A perfect time for your little chase to commence. Not to mention, the cool, crisp Fall air had made everything entirely better; not too hot, and not too cold. For all the weather that permeated in this southern state, Fall in Louisiana had been one of Alastor's favorites. It was his favorite namely for Open Season... and how convenient for him that you were added to the list of eligible, wild game...

He inhaled deeply through his nose, savoring the scent of evergreen and pine tickling his senses. He held his breath like this for a while, feeling his chest expand and burn from the denial of oxygen. Once he'd had enough, he exhaled heavily, a shudder running through his entire body. He let you have a decent head start. Now the chase could begin.

---

Your lungs burned from how swiftly you ran, feet carrying you further than you had ever pushed yourself. In that moment, you almost felt liberated, free… as if something had rolled off your chest. You aren't quite sure where this sense of euphoria came from, but you embraced it all the same, laughing breathlessly as your dress caught in stray branches and debris, your boots splashing into the wet, almost marshy forest floor. You breathed in through your nose, feeling a similar pull as Alastor to just take everything in… You were greeted with smells of wood and earth, though, in this part of the forest, you caught whiff of a water source nearby. As if a tether were around your waist, you felt called to it. Your running came to a steady, calm trot, your eyes trying to adjust to the darkness of the night.

You stop just by a clearing, a familiar bayou greeting you. You marveled at the scenery before you, scarcely lit up by the moonlight. You had almost forgotten about your little game with Alastor, brushing stray Spanish Moss aside as you stepped fully out into the open. You smile fondly, a memory crossing your mind:

You, frantically shaking Alastor's shoulders as you try to point out a doe and her darling, new fawn. But, in your desperation, the deer were scared away, frightened by your presence. You had been heartbroken, though your partner swore up and down that he saw them, and that even so: your enthusiasm was a much more charming sight.

You walked a few yards from the water's edge, not wanting to chance it; meeting a creature of the night face-to-face was not your idea of "fun"... unless it was Alastor. You were grateful, then, for your hiking boots, as they made navigating the wet earth beneath your feet much easier. However, your foot catches on your next step, causing you to stumble into a nearby tree. When catching yourself, you spy a delicately carved pattern: yours and Alastor's first initials. (You, later on, had added the heart that surrounded them). Initially, you hadn't wanted to deface a tree like this, but Alastor, ever the charmer, insisted that it would become a landmark for you; a way to tell where you were if you were ever lost...

Your hands traced the familiar carvings, the rivets scratching against your fingertips gently. You just felt your heart swell more, the thoughts of your softer moments making your mind fog. Even with someone hot on your tail, your focus waning. You began humming to yourself as you continued your restful stroll, running through moments in your memory that made you feel particularly cozy; safe.

Just when you had felt your safest, a loud SNAP of a tree twig sounded to your rear left. You froze in your tracks, turning feverishly towards the sound. Your once still, content heart was racing wildly, eyes as wide as the moon looming above you. You slowly turned your entire body to face the noise, making sure to keep your eyes focused on the direction you heard the snap. You start to walk backwards, making your way stealthily towards the tree line.

Most animals will attack you with your back turned… facing them will deter an assault, even if for a few moments, you thought… Just before you could disappear, having half a mind to sprint-- a sudden, deafening CRACK rang out, followed by the splintering of wood. You looked to your left again, as you witness the tree next to you receive a battle scar: a bullet wound.

RUN.

You bolted into the thick underbrush, doing your best to stay low to the ground as a set of steady, patient steps pursued you. Had you not had a good distance on him, your hunter's pace would have been undiscernible from your own. It thrilled you; it horrified you. You knew that Alastor had a knack for hunting, and had you known he was THIS committed, you would have asked for a better head start.

A startling thought plagued your mind as you had a moment of clarity, your face paling. You ASSUMED this was Alastor… what if it wasn't? What if this was a wild animal, who had its sights on you? What if it was another marksman, and you were trespassing on their property? The thought made your throat run dry, the instinct to become small and hide winning over your other senses.

You nearly shrieked as a second bullet wizzes past you, less than a yard away, before it strikes the tree to your right. To your horror: it was at eye level. Had this been a stranger… they were going for the kill.

You crouch all the way down to the forest floor, searching frantically until you spy an hollowed-out tree log. You slink your way over, searching for any residents or critters, before diving headfirst into the tree husk. You laid on your back, bringing your legs in as far as they could go. You winced as your knees scrapped against the dead wood. Unable to calm down, you hastily cover your mouth with both hands. You were doing your absolute best to calm your breathing. Think, now, think… you had to think your way out of this mess.

The steady beat of the hunter's footsteps slowed, until they stop entirely. You resisted the urge to sigh in relief, still unsure if you were safe or not. Eventually, you couldn't hear a thing over the deafening stillness, the normal noises of the woods silenced by your escapade. Much like you, other creatures seemed to wait with bated breath. Maybe they were terrified of the hunter… maybe they were terrified of you.

You twitch as you hear the familiar clink of metal, a revolver's spinning wheelhouse catching your ear. You weren't out of the woods yet… this could still be another person. This could very well be a real hunt… A sharp inhale sounds just a few yards away. You nearly jumped out of your skin, eyes slamming shut. When did that hunter get closer!? Had you misjudged how far away you were from him?!

"Only 4 more bullets, Little Cottontail… let's see if you can evade them all~"

Relief and terror washed over you simultaneously: Alastor. Your body was paralyzed with conflicting emotions, breath picking up as you hear footsteps stirring closer. You could feel the panic rising in your face, blood pressure raging; but you can also feel the traitorous, hazy heat that engulfed your core. Either way, Alastor had you completely on edge, your fragile mind was on the verge of caving in either way. Should you run away, or run to him? That was your conflict…

Knock knock

Your eyes fly open as you dare to look between your bent legs, spying a pair of steely, hungry brown eyes. Pupils mere pinpricks, the whites of his eyes were nearly glowing under the light of the moon.

"There's that sweet, little rabbit!"

You shrieked as you were pulled out of the log, knees and back scrapping against the wood of your shelter. When you met solid earth, you kicked and fought, eyes wide and animalistic. Your body still fell into conflict; you wanted this to be a real chase: FIGHT BACK. Alastor was quick to avoid your kicks, straddling your hips as he tried to restrain your flailing arms. Never did you make contact, but Alastor was cautious to avoid any accidental hits, all the same.

"Oh dear, was I wrong after all? Am I really still chasing a scared, feral little rabbit~? Or something bigger…" Alastor teased, managing to seize one of your hands. It was immediately pinned above your head as you thrashed, grunting and groaning in your efforts to escape. Alastor pressed further into you, eliciting a tight -lipped moan as you felt an unmistakable hardness rub against your core. He was enjoying this much more than his face allowed him to show…

"Be a good little pet, won't you? Won't you let me take you back to my cabin? I promise I'll make this quick and painless~"

You thrashed your head back and forth. You didn't want this to be quick. You didn't WANT it to be painless. You wanted more. MORE of this.

In a daring fit of heightened hormones and rushed decision making, a loud SLAP filled the air. You panted as your hand stung, Alastor's face now jerked to the left, looking away. A flushed, red print was painted across his handsome face, his eyes wide with disbelief. He sat there like this for a few moments, his grip on your hand all but gone. You took this opportunity to slink out from under him, using his dumbfounded expression as a gauge. Truly, how long did you have until he was grounded?

Sadly, it wasn't long, a slender hand cupping the offending, fading mark. You looked down as you saw something move, your mouth watering: his cock was even harder than before, twitching from the sudden outburst. A shaky, broken sigh left Alastor's trembling lips as he slowly looked back towards you. A deep dusty rose flooded his cheeks as he chuckled, his voice full of a wicked venom. His free hand fished for his revolver, the barrel now pointing straight at you.

"Alright, then… no more playing nice."

You immediately vaulted out of the way as a third shot rang out, impacting the earth you had just been sprawled upon. Alastor elegantly got to his feet, like a regal vampire exiting his coffin. He pressed his glasses higher up the bridge of his nose, pupils wide with desire as he watched you bob and weave into the trees.

"Three more to go," he growled, his grin widening madly as he broke out into a frenzied sprint.

The panic was steadily rising, as did your burning desire. You realized, with horror, that Alastor's pace nearly went in double time, and he was steadily gaining on you. And so, you figured if you were truly to get caught, it might as well be a trap for him too--

BANG

Shot number four rang out, a terror-filled scream igniting the night; this shot was less than a foot from your trembling, straining right leg. You muscles were scorched from the effort you put yourself in, core fully engaged as you tried to focus on breathing. You were unsuccessful, already far too overworked and overheated. You came to the harsh realization that you couldn't run much longer.

You started charting your course carefully, taking dips and turns in hopes to throw Alastor off of your trail… but ever the clever man, he never lost sight of you. And, despite your best efforts, he was nearly on top of your imaginary cottontail. You dared to look behind you, searching for the madman coming for you, only to see he was no where in sight. Your pace slowed down, confused as his footsteps cease. You came to a dead stop, spinning around wildly to find any sign of your darling partner. Your mouth ran dry as you panted, legs nearly giving out from under you. As you took in your surroundings, you feared that you may be lost… truly, genuinely lost.

"A-Al… Alastor? Baby...?" you rasp between pants, a hand coming up to your heaving chest. You take a few, cautious steps back towards the direction you came from, squinting harshly. Your eyes still had not adjusted to the low visibility of the dank, dark forest.

"A-Al… AL?!" you call desperately, scared that you may have lost him, or worse: maybe he was injured... You go to take off again, before a hand snakes around your throat. You couldn't scream as the hand squeezes your pulse, a cold, metallic object pressed into your lower back. Your fear transformed into relief, which transformed into desire, all within a span of few seconds. Familiar, heated lips brushed against the shell of your ear. Alastor's breath was heavy on your skin.

"I guess I didn't need all of my rounds, after all." Alastor nearly purred, despite his labored breathing. His warm breath followed his lips as they came to the junction of your jaw and neck, three fingers unfurling from your pulse. This left him just enough room to litter the bared skin of your neck with short, open mouthed kisses, your eyes fluttering closed. Even with only two fingers squeezing your throat, you still felt lightheaded, unable to escape. You shuddered under his grasp, your body instantly surrendering to his desire. It was official: the chase was officially over. Alastor knew that the moment you sighed into his touch.

"Good girl~"

In a rapid succession, you were grabbed and hauled over Alastor's wide shoulder, his free hand tucking his revolver away. Your hands flew down to grope and run over Alastor's body, your lungs still exhausted from the strife of running away. Alastor allowed your hands to explore, appearing unphased as he carried you out of the woods. He resisted every fiber in his being to not bend you over and fuck you into the damp earth; a filthy act for a filthy-minded girl like you. But, he had at least some modicum of class… he needed to make this last; he would ensure this was something you wouldn't soon forget.

-- You felt embarrassed by how rapidly your heart beat, how frantically you were tugging at Alastor's flannel, but when your eyes looked up to a different building, your heart nearly stopped. You were walking toward 'the shack', Alastor called it… THIS was where he took all of his wild game after hunting them down. Seeing your unease, he slapped you on the ass, hoping to chase away your nerves," Don't worry, darling… I told you I would be gentle~"

His words contradicted his actions as you were practically thrown into the shed, sprawled out onto the floor. Your eyes tried taking in your surroundings, but it was far too dark to see. You yelped as both of your hands were seized and tied with a coarse jute rope, the fibers pricking your wrists. When you felt Alastor leave you, your legs came together, heat still pooling in your lower abdomen," S-Sooo, Mr. Huntsman~ You've caught me~ What do you plan to d--" Your questioning was cut short as you were suddenly jerked onto your knees, your hands now taunt over your head. A few more tugs on your rope, and you were standing upright, struggling to balance on the balls of your feet. You wobbled as you heard shuffling behind you, rope being fastened, and the clink of Alastor's revolver laying on a flat surface.

Alastor left you in suspense like this for a few moments, as he brought his hands together with a satisfied hum. The crisp sound made you jump as if it were gunfire, your cunt nearly drooling as you strained to look for Alastor in the pitch.

"Now then… 'can't see very well like this, can we?"

A lantern was lit just in front of your face, startling you. You realized that Alastor had all but held his breath to get closer to you, those same, silent footsteps deceiving you again. You couldn't find the words to speak, eyes wide with disbelief and desire as you stared back at Alastor's shit eating grin.

"Ahhh, yes… Finally managed to capture you, you tricky thing~," he mused as he flicked the tip of your nose. He chuckled when you wiggled it back and forth and recoiled, almost mimicking the animal he claimed you to be. "No, I don't think you're privy to know what I plan to do to you, with words… But, I can certainly show you." He seized your cheeks roughly with one hand, puckering your lips as he closed the distance between your bodies," But you might enjoy that too, wouldn't you?" Alastor's other hand ran dangerously up your trembling thigh, his face cool and collected as you were practically panting under his touch.

"P-Please…"

Alastor sends you a questioning look, before grinning maliciously," I didn't realize animals could speak, let alone have permission to." A harsh grip on your thigh anchored you to Alastor's pelvis, and you felt the familiar, hardened length on your core. You whined, obeying in silence as Alastor ground against you. His mouth fell open as he pressed his hips again, eager to seek some friction.

"You'd like me to use you, wouldn't you…? Breed this body like a deranged rabbit while you're helpless, defenseless under my touch…" Your mouth watered at the idea, your eyes fluttering as his hand shifted to palm your ass. His smirk was very telling, both hands moving to spread and palm your backside properly. His touch was slow and sensual on your trembling, supple body.

"Or maybe I should lay my claim here… Uncharted wilderness is quite thrilling to explore, don't you think?" His breath was so low it rattled his own ribcage. Without warning, a groan was torn from both of your throats as you bucked into Alastor's hips. Your eagerness was not unwelcomed...

Alastor was rewarded with another broken, wanton moan for his scandalous ideas and his wandering hands. He realized, in that moment, he was telling you exactly what he wanted to do to you. And, in that same moment, he decided that he didn't fucking care.

"Or maybe… maybe I can't wait--" Alastor starts to drag his lips down your form, kissing down your neck, then the valley of your breasts, then your abdominals… before landing at the hem of your still-concealed underwear. "I'm quite parched, love… Surely you won't mind if I quench my thirst, first?" Alastor's hands snake up your thighs as your nightgown is pushed up, revealing his current target: your clothed loins. His pupils shrink as he inhales, almost nuzzling into your inviting cunt. You whine weakly when he gazes up to you with mesmerized eyes; he was as bent out of shape as you were, and he was struggling to keep it concealed… Was he really going to enjoy himself, or sink his teeth in? Your heart stuttered at either possibility.

You nodded down to Alastor, wobbling as you spread your legs as far as you could. Your wrists were reminded of their predicament as you tried to move, thrashing in your restraints. You didn't speak, a firm nod your answer and consent. As Alastor kissed your awaiting heat, he shifted your legs onto his shoulders, alleviating the pressure on your feet. Had you not been so aroused, you would be heavily flustered by this gesture: a kindness yet something so brazen, even for your sweet beau.

He squeezed the meat of your thighs, humming as he licked a warm, wet stripe between your covered lips, the fabric of your panties already drenched with your arousal. You swore you saw his eyelids flutter as he sighed against you, diving in more earnestly. You wailed with frustration, unable to feel the full effect of his tongue just yet. You cared very little, however, as some attention was better than none. Your struggled against your restraints once more, warning hands digging into your thighs. You tried to swallow the lump in your throat, but it simmered into a moan with each wave of pleasure. You wanted to scream as Alastor continued to tease you, unable to regulate your breathing or your moans.

He wasn't kidding; he wanted to eat you out like a man starved, his tongue dancing along your drenched panties wildly. He left no surface unmarked by his sinful, silver tongue. Alastor practically moaned around your sensitive bud, your mind reeling at the sensation as your hips bucked subconsciously. Whether it was because he was enjoying himself, or strictly to stimulate your clit, you weren't sure… but that little noise sent jolts of electricity right to your core.

Despite this: you were rewarded with a nip to your pearl, a whiney, breathy moan your weak rebuttal. You secretly hoped he would tear you apart, just to put you back together and break you again.

Your mind refocused as you felt your underwear being moved to the side, a bold, eager tongue now attending to your bare, puffy folds. You shrieked his name, whimpering from the stimulation. His tongue worked dexterously, licking and coddling every curve, dip, and crevice. Alastor's movements were now raw and unfiltered, MUCH to your delight.

Your legs caged his head, squeezing him closer to you as you felt your orgasm forming at an alarming rate. You couldn't help but mewl, head falling forward and limp as Alastor buried his face into your mound. His straight, rigid nose prodded your clit as he drove his tongue into your aching entrance, your taste and scent engulfing his thoughts. You let out a long, satisfied moan as he began to pump his long tongue in and out of you, working both his spit and your arousal in and out. The slick skin-on-skin squelching did nothing to calm the fire behind your eyes, toes popping with how violently they curled. Alastor continued his brutal pace, unable to get enough of your taste, scent, and special, little cries that were made just for him.

"F-fuhhh~ F-Fahhh--! Ahh! A-Al!" you cried, wanting desperately to use your words; you tried to give him a warning. You were near your climax, tears pricking your half-lidded eyes. You heard Alastor grunt into you, hands rubbing and kneading your thighs, as if asking you to crush his head more. You obliged, bucking into his mouth as your release started to approach. He had his mouth full, no doubt! Even so: you swore you heard Alastor moan and whisper into your folds hastily, suckling and swirling your clit to make you cum.

"F-Fuck-- Oh fuck, cum for me, then--"

Your body spasmed, head tossing back sharply,"F-Fuck, Al-- Al!!! Fuck, cumming--"

The dizzying affect swam over you swiftly, a scream that could be mistaken for pain filling the tiny shack you were in. The force and sudden rise in pleasure was overwhelming, almost maddening as Alastor wound you back down. You were gently set back onto your feet, legs shaking... All the while, his tongue never stopped, making you whine from overstimulation.

"A-Al… please, that's-- G-God! You can stop now-- Ahh~" You would have doubled over if your hands weren't restrained, your tongue lolling out from between your lips. The delightful slurping from below didn't cease, and seemed to become even more feverish. Alastor smiled up at you, parting for just a moment before licking his slick-covered lips.

" Am I not allowed to have seconds, dear?"

Your face seemed to catch on fire as you try to formulate a reply. However, Alastor's mouth knocked it out of you, head vacant as he continues to ravage you. He suckled on your abused clit, hands holding your hips in place as you tried to squirm away from his devious touch.

"F-Fuck! F-Fuck, Al, please--!!! T-Too much-- Ahhn-- T-Too much!!" you cried, your wrists chaffed against the rope that bound you.

Alastor did not relent, instead pressing you further into his face as he feasted upon you. His slurping and gulping nearly doubled with a grotesque volume, his eyes wide and watching you. You trembled under his intense gaze, rushing towards a very intense, unnecessary second orgasm.

"F-Fuck-- Alastor!! A-Al! Fuck, don't--" you whined, tears streaming down your face as the searing heat of the new orgasm washed over you," Pl-Please-- FUCK--"

Another shriek bounced off the walls as a hasty, overwhelming feeling flooded your loins. You winced with embarrassment as you felt a sudden gush of warmth coat your sex and thighs. Of course, Alastor was on the receiving end, but didn't seem to mind, his tongue only slowing when you were practically sobbing into the afterglow. Your legs completely gave out on you, wincing as your arms held your entire body aloft," F-Fuck… Fuuuuckkk…" you whined as your head spun, your eyes blurry from the pleased, hot tears that stained your face. A sweet, warm hand cupped your cheek, forcing you to look Alastor's way.

"An absolutely breathtaking meal, darling…," Alastor panted, his eyes warm but still full of a lusty haze," Please… if you'll have me, I simply can't stop there."

When you gave him a weak but sure nod, Alastor nearly bolted to the secured rope, allowing you to descend to your knees. The warm wooden floor dug into your legs as you waited. Alastor was quick to resecure the rope before looping back to you. " If I were to ravage your pussy now, I'm afraid this little show might end early… So for both our sakes…" Alastor swiftly freed his aching cock, a hand lazily pumping his flushed member. Despite his aversion to touching himself, he sighed into the relief his hand provided.

"Won't you please… allow me to use your sweet lips instead, pet?"

How could you say no, with his words tumbling out sweetly?

With a speed that made Alastor dizzy, you beckoned him to you, tongue first. He allowed you to kiss the head of his flushed cock, eyes drinking in your expressions and your body. He had half a mind to cut the rope holding you hostage, but decided against it when you took him into your warm mouth. Alastor hastily covered his lips, stifling a groan as his other hand fisted your hair. You didn't mind, hollowing your cheeks as you took as much of him in as you could. His public hair tickled the very tip of your nose, his musk invading your senses. Had his mind been clearer, Alastor would've worried about your ability to breathe... but he had to focus on not throat fucking you first.

"Shit-- so warm--," Alastor groaned, his voice still muffled. Despite this, his words reached your perked ears, and causing your wet entrance to flutter around nothing. Alastor flinched, his hips spasming as you took him down to his base. He was jammed far into your throat, your eyes rolling back as you tried to relax around his engorged member. A choked noise and a sputter erupted around his cock, a pleased moan eagerly following. As much as Alastor was enjoying himself, you would be lying if you said choking on Alastor's cock wasn't fun for you.

"Fuck, don't hurt yourself, darling-- I don't need-- FUCK--" The moment you started to bob your head, all words and worries flew out the window, the hand in your hair beginning to guide your descent. Alastor felt like he was being incinerated, his body electrified by your wriggling tongue and tight mouth. His restraint was beginning to wane, hair fanning across his sweat-slicked forehead," Fuck, you take this so well-- Take ME so well--"

Alastor panted, hardly able to keep his eyes open as you whined around him. His grip in your hair grew harsher, his hips beginning to stir.

"So malleable, so eager-- Good God--" Alastor's head fell forward as you created a delicious, tight suction around his dick. The sensation nearly drove him to bellowing, your name tumbling clumsily from his parched lips. He stared at the point where his cock disappeared into your mouth, then up to your teary eyes. Fresh tears spilled over your flushed cheeks, his words causing a shiver to run up your spine. Alastor, completely enthralled, felt his cock throb at the sight of your desperation, gritting his teeth," FUCK-- Damn it all--!"

Straining to reach out of sight, his hand ends up landing on a carving knife. Once he could grip it properly, he hastily swings above you. You flinch for a moment, before your arms relax and fall to your sides. You realized he cut you loose, but you had no time to dabble on the thought. Alastor's cock slid out of your mouth, your jaw setting into a neutral, open shape. Alastor started to stroke himself hastily, using his other hand to gesture in a circle," Turn around-- on all fours. NOW."

You didn't hesitate when that dark, brisk command was thrown your way, clambering like a newborn deer. You turn to look back at him, wagging your hind in a teasing way," Don't want to waste a drop, huh?" you teased, a coy smile on your face. Alastor laughed, breathy and high, as he fell to his knees. He easily towered over you as he aligned himself to your dribbling, plush entrance," You know me too well, love."

The plunge of his cock nearly knocked you onto your stomach, your mouth falling open in a silent scream. To your pleasant surprise, Alastor had bottomed out inside of you. There was a slight discomfort from the sudden intrusion (one that wasn't unwelcome) as a strong arm wrapped around your torso.

" B-Bear with me. I'll fill you up soon, dear--"

You nearly cried as Alastor began to move, hips already hammering into your most intimate place at an animalistic rate. You were truly fucking like rabbits, unable to do anything but chase your own desires. Alastor buried his face into your neck, biting down on your shoulder to muffle his grunts. You were unable to stifle your own, the sounds of your ecstasy bouncing around the room. The steady, rhythmic squelching of your privates were almost drowned out by the steady plap, plap, plap against your ass with every brutish press. You were getting close... And as Alastor's voice rose with yours, you realized he couldn't be fa behind. You allowed yourself to fall forward, cheek smashed against the grain of the floorboards as you arched your back," F-Fuck… fuck me, Alastor-- Hah-- Oh god, please--" Your eyes slammed shut as Alastor's pace only increased, his hips angling in a way that stroked your g-shot with every press.

"Yes, love-- fuck yes, you want this? Harder? Faster? Fuck--" He accented your mental demands with more energy, a hand cupping your bouncing, right breast as the other caressed your stuffed pussy. He sought your puffy pearl at the apex of your cunt, and drew quick, deliberate circles into it.

" Fuck, fuck! I need you to cum-- Want you to cum--," Alastor begged, his breath hot and heavy in your ear," O-One more time, please-- then I'll make sure to fuck my-- Oh fuck! I'll fuck you full of my cum--"

Your mouth hung open, drool pooling under your cheek as you felt your orgasm building for the third time that night, your hands clawing into the wooden floor," F-Fahh-- ahh! Yes!!! Fuck me, shit-- fuck me stupid, Al!!!" you wailed, eyes flying open as he pinched your clit. You clamped resolutely around his cock, your body locking up-- Yes, yes, just a few more thrusts--

"FUCK!!!"

You came with a wail and a tremor, your lungs screaming for air as it was fucked right out of you. Alastor, watching and feeling your body unravel under him, was unable to last any longer. He pressed his forehead into your shoulder, humping once, twice, thrice until he delivered a deep, devastating thrust. Your name became a debauched mantra as you milked his cock, spurts of hot, white seed painting your core. You trembled as you felt it being fucked into you, Alastor sighing into your shoulder.

"Sh-Shit… Shit, I love you. God, I fucking love you--" Alastor cursed into your shoulder, his hips stirring again," I-I can't stop-- fuck, you keep sucking me back in--"

You whined as Alastor started to rut into you again, his hardened length not wavering in the slightest. Like an animal in heat, he proceeded to fuck you through his own climax, eager to fill you up again," F-Fuck, I'm sorry-- You feel too good. Fuck, this is--"

You did your best to look behind you, lips clumsily kissing his temple, his forehead-- whatever you could reach," H-Hahn… hah, it's okay! Pl-Please, use me… F-Fuck, you can use me again! I wanna feel you cum in me again, Al!"

Alastor needed little convincing, his overstimulation outweighed by his desire. The cries that dripped from your mouth were sweeter than the honey and slick between your legs," G-God-- God, mon amour-- FUCK!"

You were smiling deliriously as Alastor used your sensitive cunt to chase another high, head foggy and vision blurry. You could do nothing but whine and shake as you were not only fucked through your orgasm, but felt your loins boil with an impending, new release. You couldn't say a word as each thrust pushed a scream from your diaphragm, Alastor's own throes of pleasure mirroring yours. The both of you made eye contact, and for the first time in a long time you saw… Alastor wasn't smiling?

Alastor's brow was knit together, face hard and yet so flushed as his mouth hung open in a wide, desperate "O". You felt your walls flutter around Alastor, the sight almost as beautiful as his trademark smile. Hastily, Alastor pulled you up by your throat, squeezing as you were forced to face away… The growl that was rumbled into your ear did little to slow down your peak.

The smile that danced across your face was unmatched; you had gotten Alastor to completely melt into you, unable to keep his 'armor' on. He was drunk off of your body, and he was unable to hide just how much he wanted both of you to cum. You mentally cheered, unable to shake the feeling of victory as that tension in your belly snapped. You unleash a broken, primal scream as Alastor fills your womb with another load, his semen spilling out from your writhing cunt. Completely out of breath, both of your collapse to the floor. You were left gasping and wheezing as Alastor sunk into you deeper, fully sheathed and pressing into your cervix. The sensation just made you whimper into your afterglow, lips twitching as you both wound back down…

You both lay on the floor like this for a few moments-- hell, maybe for an hour-- trying to regain your bearings. Trembling hands caressed your body, while your own reached up to pet and stroke at soft, chestnut brown hair. A tired chuckle fills your ears as Alastor closes his eyes, a content sigh rolling off his chest.

"You never fail to amaze me. And, of course… you never fail to make me cum either," Alastor admits, a sheepish blush creeping across his face. You nod, your laughter just as meek," Y-Yeah… fuck, you… you did all the work," you quipped, feeling Alastor shake his head. He kissed at your shoulders, trailing them up your neck and to your heated cheeks.

"Darling, if anything deserves the praise, it would be your nethers… She put on quite a show." You lightly elbowed him in the ribs, the both of you laughing like teenagers," Or maybe your brain… for coming up with a delicious roleplaying scenario?"

You hum for a moment to contemplate, before sighing," Fair enough… I'll take that," you profess, looking up and back towards your exhausted partner," Alastor?"

"Yes, my dear?"

"Thank you again, for all of this... and-- sorry about slapping you earlier," you chuckle, your face burning under Alastor's sweet gaze. He seemed entirely unbothered, shrugging," Ahh, nothing but a passionate act in the heat of the moment. Think nothing of it-- as long as you don't mind me slapping this again~" You squeaked as your ass received a playful tap, like a friendly, sportsman’s slap of approval.

"Good job~"

You rolled underneath Alastor, his cock finally freed when you sprawled out onto your back. You invited him to lay his head on your chest, which he gladly accepted. You could feel the tension in his body dissipate the moment he laid down, his eyes fluttering closed. You brushed the hair away from his face, giggling at the adorable sight of your dopey, sleepy lover.

"Alastor... don't fall asleep on me, now. We still need to get back to the cabin." Alastor groaned, brow furrowing. Stubborn as a bull, he nuzzled into your chest face-first, sighing as your heartbeat lulled him," Just a few more minutes, dear… I don't believe either of us could stand, even if we wanted to."

You hummed, patting Alastor on the head as you conceded," Touché… But I blame you for that."

"And not our heated chase, dearest?"

You snort as you try not to laugh, belly aching from holding back," Fuck, that's fair... Maybe we can play a little closer to home next time?" You smile down at your partner as he adjusts himself. Finally, he came up for air as his chin settled between your breasts, his eyelids still heavy from exhaustion. 

"Oh sweetheart, where would the fun be in that? You know I love a good chase~" 

He moved further up, caging your body with his as he gave you a tender, quick kiss," You can run, hide, do whatever you like... as long as we both have fun, that's all that matters– our legs be damned..." You can't help but nod and laugh, pushing Alastor back into your bosom. Your sleepy beau can't help but hum in approval, your chest a warm, welcoming pillow. 

"You're right... that's all that matters. But really, I-- I love you, Alastor. I can’t help but thank you again. For all of this…" Your partner stills for a moment, a dark, intense flush coming across his face and neck. You can't help but laugh as he hides his face into your chest again, sighing dramatically," I love you too, mon ange... For now, I'll settle for saying it, as I'm far too tired to show you again right now..."

You chuckle as you crane your neck down, kissing his crown before letting your head thunk against the floor," You already show me more than enough, baby... More than you know." 

The silence is calming, even comfortable as the two of you find yourselves drifting off to sleep. Thankfully, the autumn heat and the union of your bodies was more than enough to keep you warm. Both of you allowed yourselves just one, brief nap while the crickets and cicadas harmonized outside the window... A perfect, peaceful conclusion to a passionate, relentless hunt. 

[pin-k-ink]

eventide // tsukishima kei

tw ⇢ dub-con, emotional manipulation, toxic/unhealthy relationship, borderline possessive kei, minor age gap (reader is 5 years older), sexual tension, angst, pining, akiteru x reader if you squint, fingering, unprotected sex, dry humping, begging, obsession, tsukki is kinda pervy

wc ⇢ 19k 💀

a/n: i did that thing again where i don’t know how to end a fic

Tsukishima was in hell. Every fiber of his being burned with an agonizing combination of desire and torment as your presence infiltrated his senses. The sweet, subtle fragrance of your perfume was a cruel tease, inflaming him while reminding him you belonged to someone else. His brother's easy laughter at some witticism you'd uttered grated in Tsukishima's ears like nails on a chalkboard.

He watched, jaw clenched, as you playfully swatted Akiteru's arm, bodies casually invading each other's space with a comfortable intimacy Tsukishima could only fantasize about. Your sparkling eyes crinkled at the corners when you giggled at his brother's reply, full lips stretched in an effortless smile that Tsukishima longed to taste.

Forcing his gaze away from the plump curves of your mouth, he let his eyes brazenly rake over the rest of your figure. The thin cotton of your shirt sculpted to the valleys and hills of your form, clinging in a way that made Tsukishima's throat go dry. He imagined peeling it off you slowly, calloused fingers tracing patterns on the bare skin underneath as you arched shamelessly into his touch.

A bead of sweat trickled down the side of Tsukishima's neck. He shifted, pressing his thighs together as arousal stirred low in his abdomen. Silently, he cursed his brother's obliviousness to the temptation posed by your presence. Akiteru was a fool, taking your closeness for granted when any sane man would endeavor to thoroughly map every luscious inch of you with his hands and mouth.

"You okay over there, Kei?" Your lilting voice sliced through his lascivious haze. Tsukishima's eyes snapped up to meet your concerned gaze, heart pounding. Heat flooded his cheeks at being caught staring so brazenly. Recovering quickly, he mustered his most disdainful sneer.

"I'm fine. Though this room reeks of desperation..." He let the insult hang heavy in the air between you.

You blinked at him owlishly for a moment before rolling your eyes in exasperation. "Wow, as charming as ever I see," you drawled sarcastically.

Tsukishima's mouth curved into a smirk at having successfully riled you. He vastly preferred this - the playful back-and-forth barbs, the simmering undercurrent of antagonism - to the torturous visions of you wrapped around his brother. At least when you were riled up at him, those molten eyes were focused solely on Tsukishima.

"Don't dish it out if you can't take it," he goaded, taking petty satisfaction in the way your nostrils flared. You opened your mouth - likely to unleash a biting retort - but Akiteru spoke first.

"Come on you two, can we not do this today?" His brother sighed long-sufferingly. "It's bad enough having to deal with Kei's prickly 'holier-than-thou' attitude regularly."

A muscle in Tsukishima's jaw ticked as your gaze flickered briefly back to Akiteru. The unspoken bond between the two of you ignited a searing flare of jealousy in his gut. How easy it would be for Akiteru to simply reach out and pull you against him, burying his face into the inviting valley of your breasts as you giggled and playfully swatted him away...

The visions tormenting Tsukishima now were memories from long ago when he was just a child - back when you were still a frequent, dazzlingly bright fixture in the Tsukishima household. Back when his crush was new, freshly blossoming with the first tingling tendrils of innocent infatuation.

"Neeee-san!" The childish nickname you'd allowed only Tsukishima to use tumbled eagerly from his lips. At 6 years old, you were his biggest hero, the shining center of his universe.

You turned with a sunny smile, kneeling down to his level as he bounded up to you. "Well if it isn't my favorite little monster!" You reached out to ruffle his tousled blonde hair affectionately.

Tsukishima felt his face heat up at the casual contact and endearment, his child-self not yet able to tamp down the wide, unabashed grin of pure joy that broke across his features. Up close, your beauty was staggering - enough to leave him at a loss for words.

"Guess what, nee-san? I scored a whole bunch of points in volleyball practice today!" His small hands cupped together proudly as if cradling something precious.

"That's amazing, Kei!" You reached out to tousle his hair again, shining with genuine pride. The simple praise and affection in your radiant smile made his little heart swell.

"Soon I'll be so good that I can be on the same team as Aki-nii!" He proclaimed boldly. The thought of getting to play on the court alongside you and his older brother filled him with giddy excitement.

Your grin twitched ever so slightly. "I-I can't wait to see that! You'll have to show me some of your awesome moves."

"Kei, stop hogging nee-chan's to yourself." The familiar teasing lilt of Akiteru's voice cut through your moment. Tsukishima's smile dimmed as his older brother sauntered over, all lean muscle and easy confidence even at 11 years old.

You straightened up, attention diverted as Akiteru draped a casual arm around your shoulders. A flare of irrational irritation and something darker - something Tsukishima didn't yet have the emotional vocabulary for - flickered in the young boy's chest as you leaned comfortably into the familiar half-embrace.

In that moment, Akiteru's height, his striking looks, the similarities you two shared down to the very expression on your faces - it all became suddenly, viscerally apparent to Tsukishima's childish perceptions. A vise constricted in his small ribcage as he watched his brother playfully tug on one of your pigtails, laughing at some shared joke while you made a face of mock indignation.

It was like watching the formation of a black hole, inexorably drawing you into its singularity while slowly, agonizingly severing the gravitational tethers that once bound you to Tsukishima's world. The younger brother who had heretofore basked in the warmth of your attentions was now forgotten, cast into the cold outer orbit of your presence.

Akiteru was the sun in your universe now. And deep in the recesses of Tsukishima's fragile psyche, something cracked and began bleeding a venomous darkness into his once-bright worldview.

Over the years, as innocence shed away and Tsukishima's mind became increasingly shrouded in cynicism, that inky blight took root and flourished. What had started as a pure, sunny admiration for his radiant "nee-san" contorted into an obsession - one that had him drinking in every detail of your features, hungrily cataloging them to memory.

The way your brows knit adorably when you frowned at Akiteru. The hint of pink tongue peeking through parted lips as you concentrated with laser-focus during your studies. The soft curves of your thighs flexing as you'd settle next to him on the couch.

Each seemingly innocuous observation was seared into Tsukishima's consciousness, hoarded and endlessly examined in his quieter moments like a dragon with its plundered treasures. You became a fixation - the sole point of equilibrium in his turbulent sea of adolescent turmoil and fragile self-worth.

And with that fixation came the bitter, curdling stain of jealousy and resentment toward his brother whenever Akiteru was the recipient of your unguarded grins, your teasing quips, your casual touches. It should have been Tsukishima on the receiving end of that affection, those tantalizing glimpses into who you truly were behind the facade of pure sunshine.

So he pushed you away, reliable as the turning of the seasons. Each friendly overture, every attempt to draw the younger Tsukishima into your invigorating orbit, was rebuffed with chalky disdain and steadily more acidic barbs. If he couldn't possess the closeness he craved, could not make you solely his, then he would take petty satisfaction in making your interactions as antagonistic and unpleasant as possible.

At least that way, when you inevitably drifted out of their lives for good as you and Akiteru grew up and moved on, the final shreds of Tsukishima's attachment to you would be severed cleanly. His descent into hell would be complete.

By the time Tsukishima was in high school, his once bright and shiny infatuation had fully warped into something darker, grittier - a compulsion that simmered insidiously beneath his carefully crafted ennui.

You still came around occasionally, social spheres intertwined through your unshakable bond with Akiteru. But Tsukishima was no longer the eager, energetic child who fawned over your presence. At 16, he regarded you through lowered lashes and a veil of shuttered disinterest, shoulders hunched in apparent nonchalance.

But beneath that indifferent veneer, he studied you with a new, ravenous sort of hunger. He drank in the gentle swell of your breasts straining against cotton shirts, eyes tracing the feminine flare of your hips before snapping away guiltily. A bead of sweat rolled down the back of his neck as inappropriate thoughts crept incessantly into the shadowy recesses of his mind.

More than anything, Tsukishima longed to provoke a reaction from you any way he could - to thoroughly shatter that serene, put-together front and expose the rawer facets of your spirit that Akiteru was firmly embedded in. He discovered a guilty sort of gratification in needling you, in watching your brows pinch and those full lips purse in displeasure.

"How's the view from that ivory tower, Princess?" The mocking jeer dripped from Tsukishima's lips as he slouched further into the couch cushions. You'd let yourself into the Tsukishima residence as usual, breezing through with a familiar comfort that made something twist viciously in Tsukishima's gut.

You paused in the entryway, shooting him an arch look. "Delightful, as always, thanks for asking. No snide remarks from the misanthropic peanut gallery today?" Your tone was laced with faux sweetness.

Tsukishima scoffed loudly. "That's just the dry wit you've come to despise me for." He knew he should quit while he was ahead, but something diabolical unfurled in his chest at the prospect of getting a genuine rise out of you.

"Though I can't exactly blame you for feeling pissy. It must be rough being a broke college student indebted to my family's charity when Aki-nii takes pity and lets you crash here..."

He trailed off meaningfully, lips curling into a derisive sneer as he took petty delight in the flash of humiliation and anger that flickered across your features. Your cheeks colored furiously, but Tsukishima's sharpened senses zeroed in on the slight part of your lips, the rise and fall of your chest as you struggled to control your breathing.

"You arrogant little shit," you spat, any attempt at civility abandoned. "Is this something you get off on? Tearing people down to make yourself feel better about what a pathetic excuse for a human being you are?"

Inwardly, Tsukishima preened at having successfully riled you up. Your scorching anger was so much better than the nonchalant cordiality that came from simply coexisting on the periphery of Akiteru's inner circle. This ire, this passion - it meant you saw him, truly saw the young man he'd become instead of the pesky kid brother to be dismissed.

But what really captivated Tsukishima was the tantalizing flush riding high on your cheekbones, the slightly disheveled state of your hair where you'd no doubt run agitated fingers through it. He wanted to thoroughly dismantle your poise, to unravel you completely and revel in the ravished aftermath.

"Maybe a little," he murmured huskily, molten eyes roving over the swell of your lips and the tempting stretch of your shirt across your chest. "If you're offering something more...stimulating."

The shock and confused hurt that flickered across your features struck Tsukishima like a physical blow, momentarily robbing the breath from his lungs. This wasn't what he'd wanted - to genuinely wound you. He tamped down the nauseated guilt rapidly unfurling in his gut, shoving it into a distant recess of his mind.

This was for the best, he told himself sternly. To wrench himself free of this sick obsession that seemed to deepen and fester with each passing year. If he burned all his bridges, salted the earth of your relationship until only bitter ruin remained, maybe then he could escape the gravitic pull of his compulsion.

But as you whirled on your heel, storming from the Tsukishima household with purposeful strides, a dim part of him knew the truth. There would be no deliverance, no peace from this hell of his own making. He was utterly, inescapably possessed by his fixation on you.

Tsukishima's fists clenched impotently as he watched you go, dark appetite roiling like the churning of a brewing storm barely contained beneath his skin.

In the weeks and months that followed, a new dynamic took shape between you and Tsukishima - one charged with antagonistic tension, rife with unspoken challenge. Like ill-fated celestial bodies, your respective orbits seemed to contract inexorably despite both parties' attempts at maintaining distance.

You still frequented the Tsukishima household with familiar ease, though your interactions with the youngest brother were now clipped and edged with palpable hostility. Tsukishima met you thrust for thrust, deflecting your biting remarks with indolent indifference or firing back with surgical precision to lacerate your composure.

But beneath his sardonic visage, an incessant hunger blazed. He found his gaze lingering on the plush curves of your mouth as you spoke, trailing down the delicious swell of your breasts in quiet moments when you were distracted. Tsukishima's fingers twitched with the phantom urge to reach out and map the lines of your body, to discover whether your skin was truly as soft as it looked.

The tension built to a crescendo one sweltering summer evening. You and Akiteru were lounging in the backyard, lingering over the last dredges of grilled food and chilled beverages. Tsukishima stepped outside, shirtless and barefoot after an ill-timed volleyball practice.

His gaze snagged immediately on the smooth expanse of your bare legs, mercilessly exposed by the tiny athletic shorts you wore. The dusky twilight gloom seemed to sharpen your features into an intoxicating contrast of light and shadow - the pert tip of your nose, those pillowy lips parted on a laugh at something Akiteru murmured.

You caught sight of Tsukishima loitering in the doorway like a silent wraith, amusement morphing into a slight frown. "Don't you have somewhere else to be, beanpole?" The mild insult lacked any genuine venom.

Tsukishima shrugged one loose shoulder lazily. "What, and miss the chance to bask in your radiant presence?" His tone dripped with saccharine insincerity.

You scoffed loudly, a few loose tendrils of hair fluttering against your neck as you shook your head. The motion drew Tsukishima's heated stare like a magnet. He wanted to skim his fingers over that rapidly fluttering pulse point, to discover whether your heart raced with the same forbidden thrill as his own.

"Why don't you give it a rest already?" You sighed in exasperation. "This whole act of yours is exhausting. What will it take for you to stop being such a massive jackass all the time?"

"Hmm maybe if you asked nicely..." Tsukishima purred, taking a few slow, predatory steps closer until he loomed over your seated form. "And demonstrated proper motivation."

The suggestive weight of his words hung thickly in the humid air between you, viscous and suffocating. Tsukishima watched hungrily as your pupils blew wide, lips parting in a silent, shocked inhale. Satisfaction and something darker - something ravenous and scorching - licked through his veins like wildfire.

He drank in the sight of your chest rising and falling shallowly, the pretty flush riding high on your cheekbones while you struggled to mask your rattled reaction behind weak derision.

"Wow, so this is what you've been reduced to? Pathetic."

The scathing assessment ought to have doused the banked embers of Tsukishima's arousal. But he found he craved more - not your disgust, but the visceral emotion that roiled beneath. The sight of you thoroughly unraveled, stripped of your endless veneer of affable composure.

"Nothing pathetic about being honest with my...desires." His voice dropped to a low, gravelly purr. You sucked in a sharp breath when he abruptly crouched next to you, close enough for his warmth to bleed onto your arm.

Tsukishima's eyes roamed insolently over the delicate hollow of your throat, the gentle swell of cleavage peeking from your loose neckline. So close now, he could make out the fluttering pulse beneath your jaw, the subtle outline of your nipples through the thin fabric.

All he had to do was reach out, boldly bridge that searing distance between you, and -

"Kei! That's enough, man." Akiteru's hand landed heavily on Tsukishima's shoulder, shattering the trance. Tsukishima's gaze snapped up to find his brother regarding him with a bemused sort of confusion and concern. You sat beside them, rooted in place and wide-eyed with mingled disbelief and trepidation.

With an inward snarl, Tsukishima shrugged off his brother's grip and straightened to his full height. Outwardly, his expression remained one of languid, hooded disinterest. But inside, a tumultuous storm of thwarted desire, petulant frustration and clawing obsession swirled like a maelstrom preparing to burst its confines.

A muscle in his jaw ticked while he regarded you imperiously. You visibly swallowed under the weight of his stare, hands twisting in your lap. Tsukishima committed every minute detail of your ruffled appearance to scorching memory before spinning on his heel and stalking away without a word.

His skin felt too tight, overhot, as if branding itself permanently with the impression of this moment - of how badly he had shattered the fragile bounds of propriety in his reckless pursuit of your undoing. There would be no coming back from this, no soothing balm of remedied boundaries or reassurances of indifference.

Tsukishima had allowed the darkness to breach its subterranean chambers and spill slobberingly into the piercing light of day. And some primal, depraved part of himself delighted in it.

In the crucible of late adolescence, any restraint Tsukishima once possessed over his baser urges and obtrusive thoughts withered away. Your presence had become an obsession unfurled, a compulsion to be sated at all costs - dignity and propriety be damned.

He sought you out like a man possessed, intentionally insinuating himself into situations where your paths would cross no matter how tenuous the pretext. Tsukishima drank in every searing detail of your features with ravenous focus, cataloging each fitful breath and bitten-off gasp whenever his words or proximity provoked a reaction.

Your relationships with Akiteru strained under the weight of Tsukishima's unchecked antagonism. Undaunted, he would needle you relentlessly, slinging barbs and salacious insinuations with the cold precision of a sniper's rifle until your composure splintered.

The way your nostrils flared when you struggled to reign in your temper, or the rapid flutter of your pulse hammering beneath the delicate hollow of your throat - each detail was seared into Tsukishima's consciousness and savored in the quiet, sweltering moments when he was alone.

At eighteen, the full flush of adulthood brought with it a new,remorseless intensity to Tsukishima's unhealthy fixation. No longer content to merely bask in your flustered unraveling, he ached to systematically dismantle every aspect of your self-restraint until you were left debauched and keening against him, rational mind whited out by unbearable pleasure.

One evening, you'd come over to collect some belongings in preparation for moving out. Tsukishima emerged from the stifling humidity of his bedroom, towel slung low on his lean hips, to find you rummaging through a box of miscellany.

His calloused fingers clenched spasmodically at his sides as you bent at the waist, shapely backside straining against form-fitting denim as you rifled through the clutter. Tsukishima's mouth went dry as cotton, eyes tracing the gentle inward curve of your spine before snapping instinctively to the generous swell of your ass.

An inarticulate grunt forced its way past his frozen lips before he could think better of it. You jolted upright, whirling to face him with wide, startled eyes and parted lips. Dimly, Tsukishima registered the flush that creeped over your cheekbones as you processed his state of undress, gaze skating unsubtly over the sculpted planes of his abdomen before guiltily averting.

"Uh, didn't realize you were...around," you mumbled, suddenly flustered in a way he found utterly captivating. Tsukishima's blood thrummed with smoldering satisfaction at having thrown you off-balance so thoroughly with just his physical presence.

His signature smirk was firmly back in place as he oh-so-casually padded closer, movements loose and predatory. "My apologies, I'll be sure to send the butler with my arrival announcements next time."

You scowled at the mocking jibe, seeming to regain some semblance of equilibrium...until Tsukishima's fingertips ghosted over the dip of your waist in passing. A harsh, shuddering inhale stuttered through your lips at the fleeting contact, gaze snapping up to lock with his. The weight of his heavy-lidded stare, dark and inscrutable, made you visibly swallow.

"S-stop looking at me like that, you creep," you stammered, curling inward defensively as you clutched the forgotten box to your midriff.

Tsukishima hummed, a low rumbling purr of a sound as he boldly sidestepped until the solid wall of his chest grazed your shoulder. You sucked in a sharp breath, freezing in place as he leaned down until his mouth was a hairsbreadth from your ear. He could smell the clean, faintly floral scent of your shampoo, feel the heated puff of your unsteady breathing fanning over his collarbones.

"Looking at you how, exactly?" Tsukishima murmured, allowing a teasing lilt to bleed into each velvet syllable. He turned his head a fraction, letting his lips brush ever-so-lightly against the curved shell of your ear as he spoke. Gratification sang through his blood as you shivered involuntarily against him.

"Like the pathetic, desperate thing you are, gawking at me like a piece of meat," you shot back in a threadbare tone that lacked any genuine conviction.

A rasping chuckle rattled from Tsukishima's chest in response. With agonizing slowness, he shifted until his nose skimmed over the rapid pulse fluttering just beneath your jaw - until his lips hovered a scant hairsbreadth from yours, so close he could feel your shallow, trembling exhalations ghosting over them.

"And what if I was?" he breathed, voice pitched low enough to rasp like gravel in his throat. "What if I told you how badly I want to - "

You cut him off with a strangled noise, abruptly shoving him away with an uncoordinated flail of limbs and putting a few feet of distance between you. Your expression twisted into one of mingled outrage and bewilderment.

"What the hell is wrong with you, Kei!?" You hissed acidicly, clutching the forgotten box closer like a shield as you struggled to recapture an authoritative tone. "Was this some kind of twisted game to you? Some fucked up power play to make me uncomfortable?"

Tsukishima simply stared back impassively, expression a carefully curated mask of nonchalant indifference despite the molten churn of need and thwarted yearning simmering like a banked fire in his veins. His tongue traced the plush swell of his lower lip slowly, greedily snagging on the taste of your floral shampoo still clinging to his senses.

With steady, unhurried movements, he thumbed the towel slung low on his hips, drawing your gaze like a magnet to the subtle shift of musculature in his lower abdomen. Your breath audibly hitched, gaze darkening with a mixture of reproach and that achingly familiar spark of restrained want.

"Does acting coy and clueless really work for anyone?" He rumbled at last, deep timbre threaded with enough blatant suggestion to stain the air between you a virulent shade of crimson. "I don't play games... When I say I want something, I pursue it with a singular, ruthless focus."

He held your turbulent gaze steadily, letting the full weight of his obsession - his absolute compulsion towards you - resonate in the pulsing silence. Your shuddering inhale echoed like a thunderclap before you seemed to rally some semblance of inner fortitude.

"You...you're disgusting," you rasped, retreating a few more stumbling paces towards the door. But the revulsion in your tone felt brittle, a flimsy construct struggling against the rip tide of molten tension steadily encroaching like a noxious vapor.

Tsukishima remained rooted, expression one of glacial detachment as he regarded you steadily. Something like pain flickered across your features before being swiftly smothered behind a mask of bland affront. With a final, ricocheting glance of...something Tsukishima couldn't decipher, you whirled on your heel and fled.

Only once the thud of the front door slamming echoed through the tense stillness did the younger Tsukishima exhale a low, ragged breath. His fingers unclenched from their white-knuckled grip on the towel as a menagerie of roiling emotion - bitter frustration, banked exhilaration, the lingering echoes of soul-searing obsession - seeped into the arid recesses of his psyche.

No matter how explosive the collision when your respective orbits intersected, Tsukishima knew he was caught in the inexorable pull of your gravity well. It was only a matter of time before he went spinning, wildly out of control, and dragged you down with him into the pitch black singularity of his fixation.

The weeks and months after your heated encounter were punctuated by stretches of strained silence, broken only by explosive bouts of argument and bitter recrimination that echoed through the Tsukishima household.

You still came around with decreasing frequency, but the casual warmth and easy rapport between you and Akiteru steadily decompressed into stiff, hollowed-out pantomimes of that former intimacy. Akiteru's brow furrowed in terse confusion whenever you and Tsukishima would inevitably gravitate towards each other, only for the atmosphere to buckle and splinter beneath the weight of barbed words and cutting rejoinders.

At the heart of the maelstrom, Tsukishima nursed his resentment and festering want like a raw, throbbing wound - poking and prodding at it in quiet moments until the searing flare of emotion was all he could comprehend. Nothing seemed to slake his hunger; no scalding confrontation or seething silence adequately diluted the sheer, galling compulsion he felt towards you.

It all came cindering down one evening when you appeared unexpectedly on the Tsukishima's doorstep looking resigned and conflicted. Tsukishima answered the door, trademark scowl firmly in place despite the electric frisson of awareness that shot through him upon finding you framed in the entryway.

"Not that I'm trying to impede on your busy schedule of antagonizing literally everyone around you, but I need to talk to Akiteru," you stated in a flat tone devoid of any real bite.

Tsukishima arched a querulous brow in response, gaze skimming insolently over you in a silent assessment. Whatever he found in your bearing must have piqued his interest, because his lips curved into a derisive smirk as he leaned casually against the door frame.

"He's out running some errands with mom earlier. But please, feel free to regale me with whatever trite nonsense is on your mind. I'll be sure to pass along the most banal details to Aki later."

A fractured exhale that might have been a mirthless chuckle ghosted through your lips at his mocking tone. "How gracious of you," you countered in clipped fashion before continuing in a lower register. "Actually, it might be better to talk to you first."

With that opening gambit, you brushed past Tsukishima into the entranceway, shoving down the fissures of unease that bloomed as his intense stare followed your clipped movements. Something about the air of grim resolution you carried set his nerves jangling faintly, a harbinger of upheaval to come.

You turned to face Tsukishima fully once inside, squaring your shoulders as if bracing for impact. He regarded you with poorly veiled curiosity despite the mask of sardonic aloofness he attempted to maintain.

"Well?" He prompted after a protracted moment of tense silence. "Do go on and enlighten me with whatever banalities have you seeking an audience."

You worried your lower lip for a beat, gaze skittering away from the weight of his stare before marshaling your resolve with a fortifying breath. When you spoke, the words emerged in a tumultuous rush.

"I'm leaving soon. Transferring to a university across the country for my Master's program." Your fingers twisted together fretfully. "Which means I won't be around much anymore to...whatever this is between us."

Tsukishima felt his breath stall in his chest as the implications galvanized in his mind. Leaving. Putting an entire continent's distance between your respective orbits. The prospect prompted a visceral spike of simultaneous relief and soul-rending loss that curdled like overspent adrenaline in his veins.

Perhaps sensing his unraveling composure, you barreled forward in a preemptive strike. "Look, I'm not naive enough to pretend there isn't...tension, or whatever you want to call it, between us. But it's gotten out of hand, Kei. It's unhealthy." You exhaled a shaky breath, expression broadcasting your internal discord. "I think some permanent distance might be what we both need to finally move past...this."

Your final syllables hung heavily between you, weighted with years of fraught history and the specter of unvoiced emotion. Tsukishima groped inwardly for some lifeline or anchoring retort, but his usually glib tongue felt expansively mired. For once, his vaunted intellect offered no scorching rebuttals or snide deflections - only a viscous, thunderous silence ringing with unspoken implication.

And in that sweeping void, the truth he'd spent the better half of a decade submerging beneath scathing petulance and obsessive fixation finally ruptured to the surface in a scalding torrent.

"You think I want this?" His voice emerged in a hoarse snarl edged with raw desperation. You started back half a step at the sheer venom saturating his tone, lips parting on an unvoiced query. But Tsukishima pressed forward inexorably.

"This maddening, inescapable compulsion that's haunted me since I was just a stupid kid? You honestly believe I asked for this relentless torment, this pathetic obsession that swallows every other facet of who I am?"

He was dimly aware of his harsh breathing punctuating each bitten-off phrase, of the erratic pulsing of his heartbeat like bellows stoking banked embers into a conflagration. But the self-disgust, the seething bitterness and all-consuming want roared to the forefront with cataclysmic force as he at last locked eyes with you fully.

"I didn't choose to become consumed by you!" He rasped, voice descending to a guttural rasp that seemed to reverberate through the scorched air between you. "To have every petty interaction, every insignificant encounter burned into my consciousness from the moment you seared your way into my existence!"

You gaped at him, lips shaping soundless words as turmoil washed across your features - quickly subsumed beneath burgeoning waves of pity and dawning comprehension. The aborted syllables shriveled on your tongue as he advanced a step, then another, until the static charge of simmering tension crackled like lightning just before the strike.

Your breath left you in a shuddering exhale as he towered over you, close enough now that the tangled knot of your respective scents - sweat and clean soap and the powdery hint of detergent - coalesced into an intoxicating amalgam. Close enough to make out the minute tremors wracking your frame as adrenaline flooded both your systems.

"You think I wanted this?" Tsukishima breathed again, voice fracturing on the lash as remorse and self-loathing parted like a rent veil to fully expose the caustic truth blistering through his veins. "To dissect and crave every infinitesimal part of you until the hunger gnawed like pestilence through my skin?"

In the slanted beams of dying sunshine filtering through the window, your complexion looked sallow and drawn - a sickly grey pallor that only threw the high sweep of your cheekbones and the plump bow of your lips into sharper relief. Gooseflesh rippled over the exposed canvas of your forearms as you stared back at Tsukishima, all bravado and derision bled dry as the weight of comprehension finally settled fully.

In that splintered tableau of anguish and reluctant revelation frozen between you, Tsukishima's entire universe whited out into the jagged fissures of truth he could no longer contain.

He closed the final, harrowing distance in a singular, insistent movement - stopping just shy of collision when you sucked in a panicked breath at his abrupt proximity. His chest rasped against yours with each frantic inhale as you pinned him with a look of pure, visceral trepidation.

But Tsukishima was beyond caring as realization cleaved through his consciousness like a ruinous storm finally breaking. For once, he eschewed any artifice of composure in favor of allowing the distillation of his absolute fixation to bleed freely into the roiling heat between your bodies.

"I don't want this," he reiterated, keen gaze burning paths over the rapid flutter of your pulse hammering beneath your jaw. "But I can no more resist the pull of you than a man can resist the inevitability of his own annihilation."

The words hung like a blasphemous mantra in the hair's breadth of electrified space separating your lips. Tsukishima felt the molten slide of your exhale feathering over the curve of his mouth as his name ghosted out in a sibilant whisper.

"Kei, I - "

Whatever feeble objection you may have offered lodged like shrapnel in your larynx as his hand lifted of its own volition. Calloused fingertips ghosted a blistering path from the graceful column of your throat, over the racing cadence of your pulse point, until coming to rest like a branding iron cupping the vulnerable hinges of your jaw.

You went preternaturally still, body locked in a statue's rigor as every molecule of air ionized between you like the portentous ether before a thermonuclear detonation. Perhaps sensing his fleeting window of opportunity, Tsukishima acted before what little remained of his sanity eroded completely.

In a movement more akin to an eclipse than any earthly burst of momentum, he slanted his mouth over yours - searing and inescapable as the electromagnetic shockwave announcing imminent oblivion. The last vestiges of his restraint and composure finally ruptured with the full-bodied jolt that lanced through him upon that first, cataclysmic point of contact.

This was it - the ruination of everything, the scorched-earth capitulation to his darkest compulsions and obsessive fixation. Years' worth of repressed hunger and bitter self-loathing and unbearable yearning finally sublimating into sheer, harrowing rapture as your lips parted compliantly beneath Tsukishima's insistent coaxing.

He drank in your shuddering gasp like a drowning man gulping blessed oxygen. The tang of salt and desperation mingled on his tongue as he surged deeper, robbed of any coherent thought save the all-encompassing fervor singeing every nerve ending. He mapped the slick, velvety recesses of your mouth with relentless focus for every precious second you allowed him this profane indulgence.

But all too soon, reality came slamming back into sickening clarity as you abruptly, vehemently wrenched yourself free. Pain lanced white-hot through Tsukishima's skull as his lower back impacted the wall in recoil from the force of your shove. He stood hunched and winded from the shock of impact for several disorienting heartbeats before raising his gaze to you.

You shook like a birch sapling in a gale, one hand pressed to your ravaged lips as if to trap the echoes of Tsukishima's rapacious violation against them. Anguish, outrage, confusion - a maelstrom of emotion held sway on your features before congealing into the ravaged mask of someone whose trust had been profoundly broken.

"I have to go," you bit out tremulously past the fingers still branding your mouth. Before Tsukishima could summon any articulation or plea for reprieve, you whirled on your heel and lurched towards the exit.

"Don't..." The feeble utterance strangled out of him, little more than a ghoul's rasp that you either didn't hear or chose to ignore. And then you were gone, the sound of the front door ricocheting shut echoing like the clanging finality of prison doors sealing fatefully behind you.

Tsukishima remained rooted and winded in the aftermath of his unraveling for an interminable stretch - wheezing agonized breaths past the anguished cataract of shredded self-control and remorse. When he finally unfurled from his hunched posture enough to properly look around, it was as if he were perceiving the world through an entirely new cosmological lens.

Where before every surface and familiar trapping of his childhood home had functioned as a mnemonic trigger for past memories of you, a radiant fixture seared into every insignificant crevice, it now produced only the ghostly echoes of that escalating tension finally reaching its terminal singularity.

The looming implosion of their relationship - of that inextricable tether binding him soul-deep to you - had officially commenced. And not through any external force, but by the sheer gravitational lensing produced by his own singularly depraved need to pull you into his orbit no matter the cost.

In that hollowing moment of ruination, Tsukishima's throat constricted around the cloying bite of truth and inevitability. There would be no salvaging this, no prospect of atonement or reconciliation now that the scorched, irradiated husk of his obsession lay in ruinous clarity before him.

You would leave - escape this harrowing gravity well before he could irrevocably drag you down into the depthless, all-consuming singularity of his fixation. And he would remain endlessly, inescapably haunted by the inextricable warp of your absence seared into the fabric of his existence.

Hell, he realized with harrowing finality, was not an external condition to transcend - but an inward, eternal torment wrought by his own hand and irredeemable actions.

a few years later

The rivulets of condensation trickling down the passenger window seemed to coalesce into the murky portent of gathering storm clouds on the horizon as Tsukishima stared unseeingly out at the passing scenery. An inexplicable sense of trepidation took root in the pit of his stomach, blossoming insidiously with each passing kilometer marker.

"You've been uncharacteristically brooding this whole ride," Akiteru's voice broke through the weighted silence, tone edged with faint bemusement. "Everything okay, Kei?"

Tsukishima shifted his gaze impassively to meet his brother's reflected in the glass before allowing it to skate away dismissively. "I'm fine. Just wondering why this desperately needed to happen on such short notice."

A humorless scoff filtered from the driver's seat. "Because you're the one who waited until practically the last minute to find housing for your graduate program starting in a few weeks."

A reasonable response, logically speaking. But Tsukishima's unease stemmed from a deeper wellspring of dread that had plagued him since Akiteru first proposed this impromptu "solution" to his living situation.

"I'm not an idiot, Aki," he groused, unable to completely disguise the petulance that crept into his inflection. "There's got to be more to this than some random person suddenly needing a roommate."

His brother was uncharacteristically silent for a protracted beats before releasing a longsuffering sigh. "Look, I know things have been...complicated, between you two - "

The words sparked like a flint igniting tinder in Tsukishima's psyche. His gaze snapped back to Akiteru, heavy-lidded eyes narrowing imperceptibly as comprehension crystallized with sinking inevitability. Of course it was you. It was always, inextricably you - forever the fixed point around which the most harrowing, inescapable forces in their universe orbited.

"Pull over," he bit out in a deceptively even tone that did nothing to mask the torrent of emotion swiftly cresting within him. His caustic rejoinder clearly took Akiteru by surprise, because his brother's brows pulled together in transparent confusion as they passed beneath the haloed sphere of a streetlamp.

"What? Kei, we're almost - "

"I said pull the fucking car over," Tsukishima repeated with much more heat saturating his words this time. The livid desperation gripping his chest precluded any coherent thought beyond the overwhelming urge to escape the increasingly claustrophobic confines of the vehicle before he succumbed to the panic swiftly metastasizing beneath his sternum.

To his credit, Akiteru must have sensed the urgency undergirding Tsukishima's insistence, because he tersely maneuvered them into the nearest vacant parking lot without further protest. No sooner had the gearshift clunked into park than Tsukishima burst from the car with enough force to make it shudder precariously in his wake.

The brisk night air did little to abate the asphyxiating sense of entrapment and dissonant realization that rolled over him in waves. Tsukishima paced several steps away, calloused fingers digging sharpened grooves into his already disheveled hair as he struggled to articulate the discordant maelstrom swirling through his mind.

"You can't honestly expect me to do this, Aki." He didn't mean for the words to emerge sounding quite so plaintive, tinged with the undercurrents of raw vulnerability he normally kept so rigorously submerged. An image of you, forever etched into Tsukishima's consciousness like a holy relic emblazoned on the backs of his eyelids, loomed in stark relief.

"I know things ended...poorly between you two back then," Akiteru ventured cautiously as he too emerged from the vehicle, lines of consternation creasing his brow. "But it's been years, Kei. You both could probably use some closure, or at least the chance to bury the past like rational ad- "

"Closure?" The syllable detonated from Tsukishima's lips in a strangled scoff edged with raw derision. He whirled to face his brother fully, not caring if the naked anguish he normally kept so ruthlessly restrained bled through now. Distantly, he registered his fingers trembling - an outward manifestation of the destabilizing architecture of his composure crumbling away.

"What part of being fatally obsessed and wanting to fucking ravish someone from the moment you first laid eyes on them screams 'rational adult' to you, Aki?" The words tasted like razors on his tongue in their excoriation, laid bare for the first time without artifice or deflection.

Akiteru's expression slackened with muted shock, lips shaping a soundless 'oh' as realization colored the slates of his comprehension with new, damning clarity. The heavy veil of silence suspended between them carried the portentous finality of a theater hush before the curtain rose on tragedy's climax.

When Akiteru finally mustered the wherewithal to respond, his tone was carefully modulated in the same hushed cadences one might use to coax a wounded animal free of its den. "I didn't...know it went that deep for you, Kei. That it evolved into something so...unhealthy."

Tsukishima shook his head minutely, an economic expenditure of movement that still somehow managed to convey the crushing weight of his despair and resignation. Of course Akiteru wouldn't have guessed at the true, festering depths of his fixation during those turbulent years of adolescence muddled by petulance and barely-leashed antagonism.

Tsukishima had gone to great lengths to camouflage the searing compulsion and unreality, burying it beneath cloaking layers of indifference and hostility. Even once he'd gained enough self-awareness to recognize the insidious obsession eating away at his faculties, he ruthlessly stifled and rationalized it - ruthlessly cauterizing those ragged, furtively vulnerable admissions of soul-deep need and unholy yearning behind rictus masks of disdain.

"Unhealthy doesn't even cover it," he rasped at last, unable to stifle his guttural scoff of mordant incredulity. "What I felt - what I still feel..." The admission emerged in a ragged exhale, abraded by the gravel layered across each vowel. His gaze skated away from Akiteru's stunned regard, instead fixing somewhere in the middle distance as his mind's eye painted the indelible, endlessly revisited portrait of your memory in aching clarity.

"It's like being cursed with an endless, unquenchable thirst," Tsukishima forced himself to continue in a brittle tone stripped of any artifice or evasion. "No matter how much you drink or how temporarily sated you become, your throat just opens up in new cracks and fissures, parched and ravenous as the desert itself."

His brother absorbed the hollowed confession in pronounced, weighty silence. Even in his periphery, Tsukishima noted the faint motions as Akiteru's throat struggled uselessly to formulate a reasonable response to such harrowing unvarnished truth. Finally, a hoarse utterance punctured the crackling stillness stretched taut between them:

"You never told me it was like that for you. That your...feelings were so intense."

The naked concern and regret woven through his brother's voice, like fine threads desperately stitching together the tattered, guttering remains of some newly revealed tragedy, prompted an unexpected stir of bitter derision to buoy Tsukishima's chest.

An acrid, joyless laugh spilled from his lips before he could think better of it, the pique of disparate emotion hardening the consonants until the abrasion rasped like an open wound. "How could I tell anyone?" He threw back, indelicate challenge glinting like shards of deadly silica in his stare. "Can you even begin to imagine confessing to feeling that...wretched hunger for your own brother's best friend?"

Akiteru flinched, the minute compression of his features accompanied by the aborted twitch of his fingers that clearly betrayed the instinctive urge to reach out instinctively - to attempt triage on the gaping disrepair laid bare before him. Tsukishima could practically envision the discordant static of thoughts and impulses rattling chaotically through his brother's psyche, could track the struggle inherent as Akiteru processed the full scope of Tsukishima's torrid, compulsive fixation.

The silence that echoed in the pause yawned between them like the oppressive density of a singularity, heavy with inexorable pull and scorching implication in equal measure. At last, Akiteru seemed to settle on his next overture, drawing forth all his faculties of earnest persuasion and fraternal care as he girded himself to proceed.

"Kei...I don't think I'll ever fully understand the scope or circumstances that created such intensity for you," he began carefully, each word acutely shaped with empathetic weight. "No one can rationalize compulsions like that born of unchecked emotion and...improper attachment pathways in the psyche."

Tsukishima narrowed his eyes against his brother's solemn, imploring stare, suddenly wary of where this speech seemed destined based on the familiar undulating cadences of Akiteru attempting to arbitrate harsh truths. But rather than demur or equivocate, his older brother pressed on unflinchingly.

"But this inability to let go, to find peace or detachment from those unbalanced impulses...it's only going to keep poisoning you, Kei. Destroying you and anyone else who gets caught in the blast radius, over and over in an endless cycle of turmoil."

A hairline crack spiderwebbed across Tsukishima's composure as the implication of his brother's words registered with the ruthless precision of a killing stroke. He felt his jaw flex in minute increments, a ticking chronometercharting the encroaching undertow of emotion threatening to drag him beneath its roiling surface once more.

"Are you suggesting," he began with meticulous slowness, tonnage of rebuke held in tense abeyance, "that I force myself back into her orbit just so I can...what? Overcome this, like some pathetic addict going cold turkey?"

Akiteru exhaled a sound that may have been a mirthless chuckle. "When you put it like that, it sounds-"

"Delusional? Self-destructive, even?" Tsukishima supplied archly, unable to completely mask the caustic edge of anger galvanizing beneath his sternum like a corrosive malignancy. "All I would accomplish is opening those fissures anew, Aki. Awakening that...relentless obsession all over again while offering up her peace of mind as collateral damage on the altar of my depravity."

Despite Tsukishima's raw confession about the depths of his fixation on you, Akiteru remained resolute.

"I hear what you're saying, Kei. Truly, I do," he said, squeezing Tsukishima's shoulder with a heaviness that belied the gravity of his next words. "But avoiding this situation, running from those compulsions...it's only going to leave you trapped forever."

Tsukishima opened his mouth to protest, rebuke already sharpened on his tongue. But Akiteru raised his hand to forestall the objection.

"You need to face this head-on. Confront those feelings, that obsession, in a healthy, controlled way - with me by your side." His brother's gaze burned with fierce conviction. "It's the only path forward to finally finding peace, Kei. You've been in this gravity well of torment for too damn long."

A hollowed pause stretched between them as Akiteru's decree hung suspended - a lifeline and tether all at once. Tsukishima felt it resonate through his very marrow, a tremulous clarion call commodified to the fractured, haunted planes of his psyche.

Finally, after what felt like an interminable, sanity-eroding instant, he managed a tight nod of grim acquiescence.

"Alright," he agreed in a rasp that scorched the tender abraded tissues of his throat. "I'll do it your way, Aki. For now..."

The last two words hovered replete with unspoken menace and conflict yet to come. But Akiteru's brilliant answering smile blazed like a gaseous nebula being kindled to stellar birth, bright with profound gratitude and steadfast determination.

"That's all I can ask, little brother. One step at a time."

The climb up the apartment building's stairs felt interminable, each step weighted with steadily mounting trepidation. Tsukishima couldn't deny the queasy roil of apprehension in his gut as he ascended behind Akiteru towards your door.

It had been years - years spent meticulously constructing psychic barricades and fortifying his defenses against the reckless undertow of obsession that had once threatened to drown him utterly. Yet now, at his brother's cajoling insistence, Tsukishima found himself being towed inexorably back towards the gravitational singularity of his darkest compulsions.

"You don't have to look so grim," Akiteru quipped over his shoulder, either sensing Tsukishima's disquiet or simply attempting to buoy the strained atmosphere. "This is a good thing, remember? A chance to finally exorcise those demons."

Tsukishima responded with a noncommittal grunt, gaze fixed forwards as they reached the landing. He could have gone his entire life without needing to "exorcise" the all-consuming fixation that had warped and contorted his psyche for so long. Better to plaster over those gaping psychic wounds and let them scar in isolation than to recklessly reopen them.

But Akiteru was nothing if not relentlessly optimistic about reshaping Tsukishima's mindset on this. His brother knocked briskly against the nondescript apartment door, then turned to flash an encouraging smile as the muffled sound of footsteps approached from within.

Tsukishima felt his jaw tense automatically as the deadbolt rattled and the door swung inward. And there you were, steadying presence and radiant energy blazing into view as if no time at all had passed.

It was like a surgically precise incision scoring through the meticulously maintained scar tissue encapsulating Tsukishima's obsession - disturbing its deceptive quiescence and allowing the tender, inflamed rawness to bleed freely once more. He drank in every nuance of your familiar features with a desperation bordering on offensive, hungrily cataloging the changes brought by the years apart.

Your eyes widened momentarily upon catching sight of him lingering behind Akiteru. Tsukishima watched as you visibly startled, then attempted to mask the reaction behind a perfunctory smile that didn't quite reach the shuttered wariness lurking in your gaze.

"Akiteru, hi! I wasn't expecting..." You trailed off, throwing a sidelong glance towards Tsukishima that felt like the audible screech of brakes on pavement. An awkward pause suspended between you all before his brother jumped into the breach.

"Yeah, sorry for springing this on you a bit last minute," Akiteru began amiably, using the tone of gentle persuasiveness that came so naturally. "There were some snags with Kei's living arrangements for school. I mentioned your place had an extra room, and, well..."

Tsukishima kept his expression carefully blanked as you pivoted towards him fully, searching his facade for any tells or clues. He could practicably sense the disquiet radiating from you in dense clusters, even diluted through years of separation and whatever attempts at cordiality still persisted between you.

"I see..." You said at length, letting the words unspool like a weighted sounding line dropped into fathomless depths. "Well, I suppose if it's not an imposition..."

"Of course not!" Akiteru assured with forced brightness, clearly sensing the hairline fractures spiderwebbing through the atmosphere. "Kei will be on his best behavior, I promise."

The subtle cant of your brow conveyed skepticism, but you regrouped with remarkable poise by pulling the door open wider in mute invitation.

"I'll just get the spare room ready then," you offered, tempering your tone to a bland neutrality that was somehow even more disquieting.

Tsukishima felt your sidelong stare pierce him like sharpened needlepoints as you brushed past towards the interior of the apartment. Despite his best efforts at emotional insularity, self-preservation screamed at him to hold your assessing gaze - to not flinch or compound the smoldering unease with avoidance.

In that fractional span before you turned away fully, Tsukishima saw it - the wariness, the quicksilver flash of emotions strained behind every pragmatic overture of civility. A panged, phantom echo of their adolescence and the caustic hostility that had ultimately incinerated any remaining bonds between you into smoldering ruin.

He sensed the first fissures splintering across the foundation of his defenses, hairline openings that would steadily widen and coalesce with every subsequent reunion with you. Already, like forgotten muscle memories rousing from dormancy, the compulsions were stirring within Tsukishima, stretching their atrophied wings against the constraints that had rendered them inert.

Akiteru clasped his shoulder as you retreated deeper inside, expression caught in that carefully modulated balance of reassurance and solemnity. A cursory exchange of platitudes untangled between the two brothers, words devoid of real meaning like dandelion gauze catching briefly on a razor's edge before fraying away into obscurity.

Tsukishima only managed a tight nod, the barely perceptible incline of his chin feeling like an already defeated concession and prelude to the coming cataclysm years in the making.

No matter how deep he attempted to bury them, how diligently he maintained those rigorous disciplines of restraint, the gravitational lensing distorting every aspect of his existence remained centered upon the implacable starseed of his fixation.

On you.

The first few weeks of cohabiting with you were...an exercise in calculated restraint for Tsukishima. A precarious dance of aptly sidestepping any situation that might rekindle the long-banked embers of his obsession into roaring new life.

He awoke each morning steeling himself against the temptations that awaited - the casual intimacies of sharing living space that rapidly shed their innocuous veneers to reveal newer, more pernicious labyrinths to navigate. Like the first faint wisps of your shampoo fragrance still clinging to the bathroom at dawn, inviting intrusive recollections of you damp and flushed from the shower's steam...or the maddening distraction of your sleep-tousled form passing by on the way to the kitchen as he tried vainly to focus on dissertation notes.

Small moments, inconsequential in their individual pacing. But they chipped away at Tsukishima's meticulously maintained indifference with every subsequent occurrence, eroding the opaque barriers sheltering him from his compulsions' caustic undertow.

You seemed equally ill-at-ease those first few weeks despite your courteous overtures and model-roommate behavior. An overeager brightness laced your casual greetings, punctuated by halting silences and sidelong glances that implied a persistent reserve layered beneath the arduous task of reacquainting as something adjacent to strangers.

But gradually, as the acrid sting of unfamiliarity dispersed like the lingering vapors in a cleared room, your reflexive masks of propriety and decorum towards one another began unraveling into more familiar patterns of behavior.

The loaded pauses became occupied by increasingly barbed small talk, snips of snide commentary and sardonic rejoinders clearly dredged from the muscle memories of your contentious adolescent rapports. Like wading out into a cristal-clear mountain lake, the vanguards of that old dynamic seemed to buoy you both further into familiar depths...even as the potential for something more turbulent and forceful churned in unknowable abyssal provinces.

The first time you outright argued over something utterly trivial - whether Tsukishima had intentionally swapped out all the TV's inputs just to be contrarian - it was like a sluice gate opening. A slipstream through which the long-sublimated currents of antagonism and pithy one-upmanship that had once characterized your relationship came rushing back in a cathartic torrent.

"- honest to god, it's like you derive sustenance from being an obnoxious ass sometimes," you groused heatedly from the opposite end of the sofa. The furrow of your brow and the slight flush riding high on your cheekbones lent your exasperation an intoxicating sort of vigor. "Is that superiority complex really so insatiable, or are you just doing it to get a rise out of me at this point?"

Tsukishima feigned an air of indolent nonchalance, lips twitching with the effort of containing his smirk as you ranted. Truthfully, he'd gone and rearranged the TV inputs on a whim, knowing it would eventually nettle you into this sort of delicious, heated reaction. He lived for moments like these - when the full force of your temper and spirited indignation were focused solely on him and he could bask, shameless and vampiric, in the raw energy of your presence.

"Hmm, could be a little from Column A, a little from Column B," he replied at length, letting his tone drip with layered provocation like honey from a cone. "I'll leave it up to your wildest fantasies and projections to unpack my motivations, though.."

The loaded suggestion woven through his flippant aside didn't go unnoticed. You scoffed loudly, rolling your eyes in a gesture of feigned disgust that couldn't quite disguise the full-bodied jolt his words produced. "And there's the charm I haven't missed in the slightest..."

Tsukishima's answering smirk took on an undisguised edge of satisfaction at having successfully thrown you off-kilter - even if only by a hair. "If you're hoping for an apology about the inputs, I have to disappoint. Remorse was one of the first things beaten out of me in childhood."

Your lips pressed into a mulish line, no doubt biting back a retort as Tsukishima's vaguely suggestive flirting ratcheted the tension up another notch. Good - let that uncertainty and trepidation creep in until he thoroughly occupied the forefront of your thoughts, just as you had for him all this time.

There was a gratifying sort of power in keeping you baited like this, angling to provoke that endearingly annoyed blustering that allowed Tsukishima to indulge his fixation under the guise of innocuous needling. Even better when you retaliated in kind, matching acidic wit for acidic wit until the furious sparring devolved into decidedly murkier waters.

The first time he upped the ante physically - casually invading your personal space to emphasize a point or provoking distractingly intimate contact as punctuation to a biting remark - you seemed to freeze up like a computer awaiting instructions. Tsukishima took perverse delight in watching your facial features cycle through a litany of conflicting micro-expressions: surprise, uncertainty, mild indignation, and a grudging hint of thrill.

This close, he could see the miniscule dilation of your pupils, the flutter of your pulse hammering beneath the vulnerable hollow of your throat as you battled not to betray the effect his proximity elicited. The warm, intoxicating blend of your natural scent combined with the ephemeral tang of clean sweat and fabric softener made Tsukishima's head swim.

"You're awfully quiet all of a sudden," he practically purred once the loaded tableau stretched on a beat too long. "No comeback about inappropriate boundaries, or overcompensating for a newly realized size deficiency?"

That managed to shake you from your overwrought trance, hackles rising as a full-body flush crept over your features. "You're vile," you spat in a commendable approximation of disgust as you recoiled from the intimate encroachment on your space.

But Tsukishima had seen the fracture lines, caught the stuttered nervous exhale betraying that whisper of atavistic response you fought so hard to suppress. And in that tiny erosion of your defenses, he glimpsed the horizon of new possibilities - an expanding frontier of ways to needle past your limitations and composure until you lay utterly exposed before him.

The simmering undercurrents of tension amplified dramatically in the weeks after that initial thawing of your antagonistic rapport. Each ensuing encounter seemed primed to shatter past mere playful banter and provocative innuendo, splintering into something rawer and electrifyingly unsafe.

Tsukishima leaned harder into the invasive little touches and suggestive asides, each one calculated to unnerve you further and provoke increasingly flustered reactions. Under the guise of sardonic indifference, he would casually ghost his fingertips over the bare nape of your neck while sliding past you in narrow hallways. Or let his hooded gaze linger with maddening emphasis anytime the shifting of your clothing afforded teasing glimpses of skin on display.

You cycled through various strategies to regain equilibrium - deflecting with sarcastic quips, feigning obliviousness, even blunt confrontation. But nothing seemed to deter Tsukishima or raze those escalating shockwaves of tension crackling like atmospheric static in his wake.

He cornered you one evening after you'd spent a long, frustrating day dealing with unruly group project members for one of your seminars. Exhaustion was writ plainly across the tense lines of your shoulders, the slight downturn of your lips as you shrugged out of your jacket and leaned heavily against the wall.

"Long day playing shepherdess to the intellectually insolvent masses?" Tsukishima's voice rolled smooth as velvet from the nearby shadows. You jolted upright with a stifled gasp, clearly not having registered his presence lurking in the dimness of the hallway.

"Fuck, you scared me..." you huffed out a shaky breath, willing your heartrate to descend from its panicked spike as Tsukishima's silhouette peeled away from the shadows with predatory grace.

"My apologies." The words dripped with heavy insincere as he came to lean against the wall a scant few inches away. Even in the low lighting, you could make out the glinting suggestiveness in his heavy-lidded eyes. "I'll be sure to make more noise announcing my skulking presence next time."

You tried to snort out a derisive scoff, to wall up behind a facade of irritation at his insinuations and proximity. But your voice emerged with a telling breathlessness that its own betrayal. "Wouldn't want to mistake you for other, more threatening predators lurking around, I suppose..."

Tsukishima loomed subtly closer, the heated undertones of his natural musk and the clean, flinty notes of his body wash filling the scant space between you. "Careful now," he rumbled lowly in a cadence that ricocheted straight down your spine. "I've been told I can be quite...dangerous when riled."

You swallowed hard, adam's apple bobbing convulsively as your fingers twisted in the fabric of your shirt. "Is that so? Dangerous how, exactly?"

Even in the dimness, you could trace the blatant path of Tsukishima's assessing gaze dropping to your restless fingers. To the subtle flex and release of your throat's musculature as you struggled not to betray the effect his voice and body heat radiating so brazenly had on you.

"Hmm, let's just call it 'volatile' to be on the safe side," he purred at last, drawing fractionally nearer until the proximity blurred the margins between your respective personal spheres. "Volatile enough that toying with it beyond certain limits has...consequences."

Your pulse thundered a rapid staccato against the vulnerable hollow of your throat as the implication settled over you like an intangibly oppressive weight. Edged into the narrow hallway, away from open sightlines, there existed only Tsukishima's radiant, inescapable presence and your rapidly shredding impulse control.

"Is that a threat?" You managed to rasp out at last in a poor mimicry of defiance. His aristocratic features pulled into a slow, dangerous smirk that had your pulse rabbiting anew.

"Just a friendly warning. I'd hate for either of us to get...burned."

The husky promise in his words hung spark-heavy in the charged space separating you. Your chests were nearly grazing with each feverish inhalation, close enough for Tsukishima to detect the staggered pitter-pat of your heartbeat under the sheen of exertion caused by the increasing heat and tension in the hallway.

His gaze locked unwaveringly with yours, relaying the same compulsive hunger searing away every rationalizing fortification in its path. That parallax between the forbidden whims rattling perilously in your respective minds shrinking to an infinitesimal membrane.

All it would take was the slightest breach - one sublimating burst of momentum to rupture that diaphanous film and send you both spinning, irrevocably, into that caustic event horizon of no return. Of surrendering to the inexorable gravities at long last and colliding with all the ruination and ferocious consumption that would entail.

You shifted slightly, the barest incremental adjustment of your balance that caused your thighs to brush ever-so-faintly against Tsukishima's. The contact was ephemeral as a soap bubble's caress...but enough to whiteout his vision with an incandescent flare of hungry provocation. Every nerve ending scoured raw by the suddenelectricity of that inconsequential stimulus.

Your exquisite inhalation shuddered through the infinitesimal margin between you like an orchestrated swell. Tsukishima's focus narrowed inexorably to the subtlest lexicon of reactions rippling across your features - the slight parting of your lips, the minuscule dilation of your pupils as twin mirrors brimming with the same shuddering mixture of curiosity and instinctual warning.

The dam was straining precipitously...here in this dark hallway, away from prying eyes or accountability, nothing remaining but to abandon the final, tattered constraints and give in fully to the smothering, annihilating compulsion singing with celestial rapture through his veins in that instant.

He could end this torturous hunger, slake the parched ache ravening through him for years with the final satiation of union, here and now. Strip away every barrier between you until the truth lay obscenely laid bare—

A door slammed in the distance, auditory shrapnel pulverizing the fragile tension condensed to ruinous density in the hallway. You jolted away from him like repelling magnets, the spell of whatever rapturous gravities had spooled you both towards that event horizon snapping with violent finality.

Tsukishima was left frozen in place, staring at the faint contrail of eddies still dissipating where you'd just occupied the same airspace as him. Molten displeasure curdled in his gut, simultaneously undercut by a parenthetical flicker of relief that neither of you had been the first to tip irrevocably over that precipice.

Not yet, at least. The restless drumbeat of his pulse still hammering with unspent keening to consummate those atavistic, compulsive urges was even clearer than before.

It was only a matter of time before even the most robust remaining safeguards were overcome in the face of such relentless gravities insisting on their conjoining. Tsukishima inhaled a steadying breath, brain already whirring with new strategies to engineer those subsequent pressures and fissures eroding your resistances.

No exit wound or discrete retreat remained to be found. Not when his existence had become this singularly obsessed vigil to bring yours under the sway of its eclipsing gravities once and for all.

The charged frisson of tension only grew more inescapable and stifling with each passing week. Every shared room, corridor, or overlapping routine now seemed to pulse with the same loaded potential - ripe for Tsukishima to manufacture new catalysts in eroding your restraint.

He mapped the contours of your routines and patterns with ritualistic focus, lying in wait like a singular predator isolating the most opportune moments to ambush and provoke reaction. Tsukishima took outrageous gambits to infringe upon your personal space, to lace every innocuous interaction with bristling undercurrents of something darker percolating beneath.

Like the night he prowled into the kitchen as you stood before the stove, idly stirring a simmering pot while swaying subtly to the distant thrum of music filtering in from the living room. You were absorbed in separate headspace, the slight crease between your brows suggesting deep rumination or merely zoning out after a long day.

Which made it all too tempting an opportunity for Tsukishima to disrupt.

He paused briefly just inside the kitchen entryway, drinking in the languid lines of your silhouette awash in the buttery warmth spilling from the oven's interior lights. The subtle but enticing curves of your body were accentuated by the casual lounge pants slung low on your hips and formfitting knit top that shifted hypnotically with each lazy twitch of the wooden spoon clutched in your hand.

Tsukishima's mouth went dry as he watched the gentle rise and fall of your shoulders accompanying each measured inhale and exhale. Every fiber of his being hummed in sympathetic frequency with the thrumming bassline pulsing through the floorboards under his bare feet. He advanced with predatory grace until looming just behind you, near enough to feel the heat radiating from your body in delicious contradiction to the sharp, cool tang of your soap and shampoo perfuming the space between you.

You startled faintly when he cleared his throat, the barest perceptible tightening of your shoulders before you slanted him a sidelong look of bemused inquiry. "I thought you were-"

"Out? Avoiding your incessant microwaved atrocities?" Tsukishima supplied archly, voice pitched low enough to thrum deliciously against the sensitive whorls of your inner ear. He took shameless satisfaction in the instinctive tick of tension feathering through your frame at his sudden proximity and realized just how exquisitely you'd underestimated the effect of him deliberately encroaching like this.

"That's not-" you shot back, aggrieved, before visibly swallowing back the retort and exhaling slowly in an attempt at regained composure. " ...I was just getting dinner ready, actually."

"And here I thought you were rehearsing for the 2024 Rhythmic Gymnastics Olympic trials," Tsukishima drawled in a voice gone syrupy with exaggerated innocence. His eyes followed the delectable sway of your hips as you turned back towards the stove, seemingly compelled into motion to diffuse the thick cloud of tension now billowing uncontained around you.

He took the opportunity to insert himself into your orbit, sidling smoothly past and forcing you to abruptly crane backwards to avoid his chest brushing against you. The tips of your wild hair tickled Tsukishima's jaw, sparked with residual static as he blatantly reached up and over your head to trail his splayed fingers along the underside of the upper cabinet.

Your breath went taut and shallow as he leaned in fractionally closer to feign examination of the cabinet's contents, and his heightened senses zeroed in on the way your pulse had begun to judder with uneven rapidity in the graceful column of your throat. So close now, the scintillating radiance of your warmth and presence blotted out all else in a gauzy, magnetizing vignette.

"What was it you were...looking for again?" You breathed out at last, a palpable tremor running through the question that hinted at the effort it took to maintain tenuous control over your composure.

Tsukishima hummed as if just remembering himself, gaze slipping down from the cabinet to burn a path over the delicious slopes and taut musculature of your backside mere inches from where he loomed. His fingertips slid across the underside of the cabinet towards you infinitesimally until he could feel the tingle of your body heat mingling with his own.

"Oh, nothing in particular," he finally purred, allowing the rasp of suggestion to bleed fully into every slurred syllable. "Just...enjoying the view."

You froze as if struck by lightning, every muscle gone taut and arrestingly still as the implication settled over you like an electrified miasma. For several protracted beats, the only movements between you came from your rapidly fluttering pulse hammering beneath the delicate sculpting of your jaw.

Tsukishima drank in the sight greedily, entranced by the way your pupils had blown wide, lips parting infinitesimally to pant out shallow, unsteady breaths. He could almost taste the roiling waves of confusion, arousal and consternation washing off you in acrid, mouthwatering bursts.

Just as he'd begun leaning in fractionally closer - operating on baser muscle intuition to revel in the effect of antagonizing those deepening fault lines in your restraint - the muffled whine of the apartment's front door opening startled you.

You wrenched away from his looming presence so violently that one of the cabinet doors caught your hip, drawing a pained hiss. And just like that, the rapturous bubble you'd both been so deliciously suspended in burst with harsh finality. Tsukishima was left trailing in your abrupt wake as you hurried from the kitchen without a backwards glance.

But he remained transfixed in place a few beats longer, rolling the echoes of adrenaline and electric tension through his consciousness like a saturated sponge. This was far from over - just another advance scout sent out to weaken your fortifications ahead of the next siege of his obsession.

The question was no longer if you would eventually capitulate to its gravitational insistence...but how utterly you'd crumble into decoherence once you at last surrendered control.

The encounters grew increasingly charged in the ensuing days, rippling with an undercurrent of unresolved provocation that threatened to crest at any moment. Tsukishima seemed to find new, increasingly brazen ways to insert himself into your personal space and routines.

Like the morning he ambled into the kitchen still disheveled from sleep - bare feet, rumpled sweatpants hanging precariously low on his lean hips, and a strategically unbuttoned shirt leaving little to the imagination. You were puttering around making coffee, back turned to him as he paused in the entryway to openly admire the view.

"Forgetting something?" His half-awake rasp still managed to drip with unmistakable suggestion. You jolted slightly before twisting to face him, brows raised in muted confusion until realization tinted your cheeks pink.

Tsukishima allowed his hooded gaze to drag pointedly over the thin cotton tank top you'd slept in - tight enough to leave little to the imagination this early before getting properly dressed. More specifically, the distinct absence of a bra's restrictive lines meant your nipples were on tantalizing display beneath the soft knit fabric.

"Didn't realize I needed a permit to be comfortable in my own home," you countered at last, proud of how little your voice wavered under Tsukishima's smoldering perusal.

One auburn brow inched higher in a deliciously provocative arch. "Who said anything about permits?" He let the words hang rife with insouciant curiosity before sauntering fully into the kitchen.

Tsukishima moved with exaggerated nonchalance, almost feline in his studied grace as he brushed past you to snag a mug from the overhead cabinet. You tensed imperceptibly as his arm extended over your shoulder, torso near enough that your bare upper arm grazed his chest through the vee of his unbuttoned shirt.

The friction of skin on skin was ephemeral, easily played off as incidental contact in such close quarters. But Tsukishima knew better - could sense the incongruous shiver feathering through you at his proximity, hear the uptick in your breathing's cadence.

He allowed one fingertip to skim up the curve of your bicep as he withdrew with his purloined mug, not even attempting to mask the smirk playing about his lips as you squirmed away bristling with delightfully ruffled indignation.

"Would you cut that out?" You shot across the kitchen, voice emerging several octaves too high to maintain an effective scolding timbre.

Tsukishima merely hummed a low, noncommittal response around the rim of his purloined mug, eyes already devouring the graceful arch of your back as you attempted to reassert some sense of normalcy by abandoning the coffee preparation.

Subtle as the provocation, he didn't miss the minor shudder transmitted through your frame at the simple rustling of fabric accompanying each minute shift of his stance. Tsukishima knew the effect he was having, could smell the coded pheromones of interest and uncertainty wafting from you in arousing summons.

All it would take was another indecorous push on the margins of propriety between you...

That opportunity arose mere hours later in another seeming happenstance encounter veiled beneath mundane routine. Tsukishima emerged fresh from showering, towel cinched low around his narrow hips while he used a second to scrub roughly at his damp hair. He detected your presence before even turning the corner into the hallway - heard the distinct cadence of your footfalls accompanied by equally familiar frustrated huffs.

By the time he rounded into view, you were distracted with wrestling your oversized laundry basket towards the utility closet at the far end of the hallway. Tsukishima didn't miss a beat, silently advancing to 'assist' without preamble.

You yelped at the sudden looming of his broad silhouette over your shoulder, hands gripping the handle of the basket until your knuckles shown pale. "Fuck, Kei - were you born without the ability to clear your throat or something?"

He allowed himself a low chuckle at your flustered gripe, the rumbling timbre rattling against the humid fog of air still clinging to his skin from the recent shower. "And have you go deaf from lack of usage? Where's the fun in that?"

You rolled your eyes at his flippant rejoinder, muscles visibly relaxing though your grip remained white-knuckled on the laundry basket's handle. Tsukishima took the opportunity to rake his molten stare overtly down the towel-shrouded length of his torso, gaze finally snagging on the juncture of terrycloth where it strained against his hips. When he lifted his focus back to you, you were frozen in unmistakable appreciation of the visual feast he'd offered.

"If you needed help wrestling that big load into the closet, you need only ask," Tsukishima purred, allowing a lascivious note to bleed into his tone conspicuously.

The effect was instantaneous - you flushed a vivid crimson, darting eyes quickly skating away from his as you scrambled for some sense of control over the encounter. "I've got it, thanks," you managed in a strangled tone pitched several decibels too high.

Rather than respecting your dismissal, Tsukishima took the opportunity to sidle in fractionally closer, near enough for his towel's hem to ghost a teasing caress over the distracted splay of your knuckles around the laundry basket. He watched with rapt fascination as a shudder rippled through your frame, gooseflesh erupting over the exposed canvas of your forearms until your every fine hair was on charged end.

"You seem awfully flustered this morning," he murmured against the vulnerable juncture of your jaw, near enough for you to feel the puff of his words' passage skating over your electrified skin. "Perhaps a cold shower would help...?"

Your breath hitched raggedly at the blatant suggestion, inadvertently allowing your shoulders to brush against the naked, fever-warm expanse of Tsukishima's torso as you attempted to put space between you. He seized the aborted movement as invitation to encroach further, hips canting minutely to press the lean V of his pelvis flush against the tantalizing flare of your backside.

The sudden, intimate contact obliterated whatever composure you'd been desperately clinging to like a scrap of cloth underfoot. In the same breath, you sucked in a harsh gasp, entire body going rigid as every synapse whited out into searing focus on that singular, scorching point of contact. Tsukishima took full advantage, bending fractionally to sluice the words directly against the heated hollow beneath your ear with hideous intimacy.

"I could give you some...private lessons on cooling down if you need them."

Your resultant groan punched from your diaphragm, strangled more from disbelief than outrage. He could sense the last tattered shreds of your propriety fraying by the second in the face of his unrelenting siege. But just as he prepared to deliver another barrage to fully breach your defenses, the muffled creak of the apartment's front door once again heralded an untimely interruption.

This time you reacted by shoving the unwieldy laundry basket away like a battering ram, toppling free without a second glance as you fled the explosive radius of Tsukishima's provocations. He watched you retreat with an impassive, heavy-lidded stare - utterly unbothered by the dispersion of clothing and sundry garments now littering the hallway and already plotting his next strategic offensive.

The antagonizing intimacy of each near-culmination left you shaken and destabilized. But far from dissuading Tsukishima's fixation, the withdrawal only whetted his compulsions to increasingly feverish heights with each cycle. He rode the high of those flirtations with ruinous gravities longer and longer, psyche buzzing like a live wire steadily burning away its protective shielding to expose the raw arcing filaments beneath.

That fissure between the polite fictions you clung to and the heaving, atavistic impulses rattling for release was widening. Every subsequent encounter fractured the remaining quarrystone just a bit more, slowly transforming your relationship into a gaping maw daring you both to pitch forward into its obscene, annihilating radiances.

So Tsukishima pressed on with increasing abandon, heedless of the devastation he courted. Every accidental-on-purpose brush of heated flesh on flesh, every suggestive murmur or remark purposefully engineered to send your thoughts into frenzied tailspins...he wielded them as agents of chaotic erosion. Turbulent eddies and searing plumes blasted relentlessly against the remaining integrity of your defenses until only sheared-away remnants remained.

All while Tsukishima waited, every particle accelerated to maximum catalyzing potential, for the inescapable moment of criticality where you could no longer withstand the forces arrayed against your restraint. Where you were reduced to ground zero, a supernova singularity from which there could be no outgassing or reconstitution - only absolute decoherence and surrender to the annihilating truth of what ravened between you.

A late spring storm rolled in unexpectedly that evening, thunder rumbling ominously as dark clouds opened up and unleashed torrential rain. The storm's fury showed no signs of abating as the hours ticked by. The dreary tattoo of rainfall eventually lulled into a static blanket of white noise surrounding the apartment.

You meandered into the kitchen at one point, abandoning all pretenses of productivity in favor of mindlessly rummaging through the cabinets. A handful of stray snacks and your favorite battered paperback provided a meager salve against the oppressive restlessness taking root.

By the time you settled back in the living room, periodically breaking from your reading to stare vacantly out the rain-lashed windows, cabin fever had well and truly set in. You barely registered the bathroom door opening and closing, or the faint pad of footfalls approaching until Tsukishima cleared his throat from the entryway.

You startled, nearly dislodging the nest of blankets cocooned around you as you twisted to face him. A lick of heat blossomed low in your belly at his utterly distracting state of dishabille - shirtless and tousled from the shower, worn sweatpants hanging perilously low on his lean hips.

"You just going to pretend to read all night, or...?" Tsukishima's words trailed off in that suggestive lilt he seemed to wield solely to unhinge you. You swallowed hard against the aridity prickling your throat.

"Well, this would be a lot more exciting if we could have anticipated being trapped inside together," You heard yourself replying in a tone bordering on breathless despite your best efforts at maintaining nonchalance.

One corner of Tsukishima's mouth curved in a devilish smirk. "Who says it has to be boring?"

You blinked rapidly, frozen in place as he prowled closer with that maddeningly unhurried, predatory gait of his. Your chest rose and fell in shallow bursts, unconsciously telegraphing the spike in your pulse when he sank onto the sofa next to you.

"Relax," he murmured, voice gone low and rumbly in a way that sparked exquisite little frissons all along your limbs. "If you get any more tightly wound, you're liable to spontaneously combust."

The blatant suggestion in his tone triggered a fresh blossoming heat across your collarbones. You licked your lips instinctively, hyper-aware of Tsukishima's bedroom-eyed stare tracking the movement with unmistakable interest.

"Maybe I could use a distraction, then," you managed in a tone aiming for arch nonchalance but emerging husky and tremulous instead.

Tsukishima hummed deep in his chest, leaning in infinitesimally closer until you could make out the feathery whorls of individual lashes framing those molten eyes, the dusting of faint freckles scattered across his sculpted cheekbones.

"I can think of a few options for that..."

The low, velvety rasp of his words catalyzed a cascading frisson reaction along your nerves. Your gasped inhale wavered precariously close to a whine of surrender as the heated miasma of Tsukishima's proximity shrouded you in intoxicating totality.

He dipped nearer still, one calloused fingertip trailing an incendiary path up the exposed slope of your shoulder until it curved tantalizingly around the base of your throat.

The molten gravity between you yawned and stretched taut as a singularity's event horizon as your gazes met and mingled - all the riotous impulses and shredded refrains of propriety temporarily abandoned to the upswell of that heated, eclipsing tension.

Tsukishima's lashes hooded heavily as his stare dropped to linger meaningfully on your parted lips. You felt your own eager inhale stutter in your lungs as he leaned the final incremental distance separating you and—

The abrupt squall of your phone's ringtone pierced the rapturous bubble of hushed tension with all the delicacy of a gunshot, sending you both flinching violently apart in a mutual full-bodied startle.

You scrambled to untangle yourself from the cocoon of blankets while Tsukishima surged to his feet, jaw clenched and nostrils flaring in mingled aggravation and unfulfilled yearning.

"You'd better get that," he bit out gruffly before stalking away in a tightly-leashed whirlwind, already shrugging into a discarded shirt as he retreated down the hallway.

You stared after his abrupt exit for several long, thunderstruck beats before fumbling for your phone to end the wretched interruption. Outside, the rain still pelted with unremitting force against the windows in a dreary percussive counterpoint to the furious pounding of adrenaline roaring between your temples.

Alone once more, you sank jelly-legged back onto the couch, thoughts whirring with chaotic possibilities and unvoiced recriminations. Relief at avoiding...what, precisely, you couldn't identify. Frustration, resentment that the moment between you had shattered so irrevocably. And underneath it all, a deeper, hungrier current that no amount of conscientious denial could quell entirely.

Try as you might to restrict its momentum, the inescapable gravities catalyzing between you had grown too immense and intrinsically locked to be denied indefinitely. It was only a matter of time now before they overwhelmed the final eroding vestiges of your restraint entirely.

The apartment felt thick with pent-up energy in the aftermath of that aborted, almost-intersection. An overcharged miasma clung to every room, every mundane occurrence between you now freighted with unvoiced implications.

Tsukishima grew increasingly emboldened in those ensuing days, needling you with suggestive remarks and invasions of personal space that bordered on the obscene. You responded with curt rejoinders or stony silence, but the effect was like dousing a raging wildfire with a garden hose's dribble.

He crowded you against the kitchen counter one evening as you washed dishes, chest brushing your back with each inhale until your hands stilled beneath the soapy deluge.

"Need some help?" The seductive rasp filtered across the sensitive whorls of your ear, making you shudder involuntarily. "These dishes are looking...utterly filthy."

Before you could formulate a retort or extricate yourself, Tsukishima's hands slid around your waist in a purposefully artless mimicry of an embrace. His palms skated over the taut planes of your abdomen, smearing trails of soapy water as he leaned in fractionally closer until his lips disturbed the diaphanous veil of your hair.

"I do so love getting my hands...dirty," he practically purred, the resonant undulations of his voice reverberating through you with exquisite intimacy.

You froze utterly, knuckles gone bloodless around the ceramic edges of the plate clutched between your fingers. Every measured inhalation you drew only stoked the bonfire of Tsukishima's proximity raging higher and hotter around you.

Each hitched breath fanned the flames of your indecision as warring instincts - to flee or surrender, remain locked in this smoldering stasis or detonate the fuse between you entirely - battled for dominance.

Tsukishima seemed to sense the infinitesimal tremors rattling through your frame in those charged moments, tactician that he was. His calloused hands spanned your midriff possessively, kneading at the tension barricading your abdomen in wordless invitation.

When you remained immobilized in his orbit, petrified equally by terror and temptation, he allowed the exhalation of a rapturous sigh to scorch every previously unexplored hollow and curve of your exposed skin.

"Look at me," he commanded at last in that same ruinous timbre that stripped you of rational capacity.

You complied sluggishly, as if wading through atmospheric densities double their usual weight, until your unfocused gaze locked with the blown-wide expanses of Tsukishima's irises.

His stare smoldered with undisguised hunger, burning paths over your parted lips and the rapid fluttering of your pulse point before searing back to meet your own glazed regard. You felt utterly hypnotized in that annealing instant, magnetized towards this singularity of eclipsing provocation.

Tsukishima didn't so much lean in as allow the event horizon to gradually envelop you both, each synapse and loaded inhale telescoping further into the same devouring radiance. He cradled your nape in one broad palm, anchoring you inescapably as his mouth angled to collision upon yours with finality of celestial bodies yielding to intractable gravities.

Victory and resignation burned in equal measure in his stare, as if daring you to be the one to extinguish this final infinite breath separating you from sating the compulsions simmering for far too excruciatingly—

A thunderous barrage of knuckles at the front door splintered the raptured silence into shards. You gasped against the searing proximity of Tsukishima's lips, every nerve ending jolted back to momentary lucidity. He uttered a guttural rasp of pure frustration, eyes squeezing shut as if willing away this latest violation.

But the hammering at the entryway persisted with escalating force and urgency, finally severing the spell suspending you both in that singular, transcendent stasis. Tsukishima wrenched himself away with visible effort, backpedaling several paces as you remained rooted in place and trembling.

The turbulence from his abrupt withdrawal left a roiling wake of eddies disturbing the humid atmosphere around you. You struggled to recapture your equilibrium, senses still hazy with unsated yearning and the acrid tang of almost-completion.

Tsukishima stalked towards the front entrance in a tightly-leashed whirlwind, movements telegraphing his agitation through every taut line of musculature. Just before wrenching the door open, he slanted you one final inscrutable look from beneath hooded lashes - one final lancing intimation that this wasn't over by any means.

Not until all veils were sundered and both of you yielded to the compulsions wheeling you ever closer to that searing event horizon of no return.

Tsukishima returned to the apartment that evening utterly drained from a marathon study session at the library. The weight of fatigue clung to his bones like full-body restraints as he fumbled with his keys, thoughts fuzzy and focused solely on collapsing into bed for a few hours' reprieve.

So when the sounds of muted conversation and low laughter filtered through from inside, he felt the first faint prickle of alertness pierce his exhaustion-fogged senses. You hardly ever had visitors over besides Akiteru, which meant—

A fresh wave of wakefulness doused Tsukishima as he quietly pushed through the door to find you nestled on the couch...accompanied by another man he didn't immediately recognize. You were angled towards this stranger with your full attention, body cant subtly inward as you spoke in hushed, impassioned tones, the two of you leaning unconsciously ever-closer with each conspiratorial murmur.

A muscle went taut along Tsukishima's jaw as he registered the intimate tableau before him - the way the man's broad shoulders hunched eagerly towards you, that undisguised spark of naked interest glinting in his heavy-lidded assessment of your features. Setting the scene like another planet abruptly shifting into Tsukishima's established orbit without permission.

He cleared his throat once, a percussive bark that shattered the hushed ambiance and had you both jolting upright like repelled magnets across a forcefield. The man whipped around with a look of surprise rapidly melting into sheepish discomfiture as you straightened, kneading the knotted throw pillow in your grasp like a lifeline.

"Kei! You're, uh—you're back sooner than I expected," you stammered after a loaded pause. The tips of your ears flushed slightly under Tsukishima's bland, assessing stare. "I was just...catching up with an old friend from undergrad. We haven't seen each other in ages."

Your eyes pleaded guilelessly for some sense of normalcy, but Tsukishima felt the riptide undertow of something distinctly possessive and unslakeable roaring to the surface within him. His gaze sliced incisively to the stranger sitting just a hair too intimately close to you.

"I see. Well, I didn't mean to interrupt your...catching up," he intoned at length, each precisely shaped syllable dripping with the confrontational lilt of challenge. The look he slanted at the other man may as well have been semaphored in neon: This ends now.

To the guy's credit, he seemed to grasp the perilous undercurrents tensing the atmosphere with a clarity that escaped your well-meaning obliviousness. After throwing an inscrutable, questioning look your way that garnered no reassurance, he stood abruptly and made a show of straightening his clothes.

"You know what, you're absolutely right. I've probably overstayed my welcome tonight," he addressed both of you in a tone striving for diplomacy, even as his eyes danced between Tsukishima's smoldering countenance and your deepening frown of consternation. "Rain check on the rest of the reminiscing? It was...great catching up."

You opened your mouth, undoubtedly to protest his abrupt exit, but Tsukishima seized control of the situation before it could spiral chaotically out of control.

"Of course," he interjected smoothly, stepping aside just enough to allow the man to skirt a wide berth past his obstinately planted form. A significant look passed between them - bristling with unspoken reproach and sizing up - before your friend finally made his exit.

The door had barely clicked shut before Tsukishima turned his gimlet focus towards you fully, already advancing into your space like an unstoppable force guided by irrefutable trajectories.

"Making new friends in my absence?" The question emerged in a low rasp, knife-edged with barely restrained umbrage that lent it a vaguely mocking quality. "That's either impressively brazen...or cruelly negligent of you."

You blinked up at him owlishly from your seat on the couch, hands still worrying that hapless throw pillow like a discarded stress ball as Tsukishima's scorching presence buffeted you from all sides.

"Kei, what is your problem?" You fired back at last, sounding more petulant than convincingly indignant as he loomed over you in mounting displeasure. "He really was just an old friend. We didn't—"

"Didn't what?" Tsukishima cut you off with biting false-geniality. "Put on a salacious little show of false intimacy where I could clearly see how eager he was to rekindle old flames? Force me to witness how withdrawn and rapturous your attention was while tucked so close together?"

"That's not fair," you protested, beginning to push upright from the couch cushions only to have Tsukishima's broad palms bracket the rumpled fabric on either side of your head – effectively caging you in place as he prowled even nearer.

You swallowed hard, suddenly dizzy from the electrifying proximity of his presence and the scorching recrimination skating through his gimlet stare. Tsukishima cocked his head fractionally to one side, assessing you with such intensity it was like being systematically disrobed layer by layer.

"Do you even realize what it does to me?" He breathed at last, the hushed rasp of his words rippling intimately against the sensitive whorls of your inner ear. "Seeing you so openly beguiled by another, being dismissed from your undivided attention?"

He shifted infinitesimally closer, near enough for you to feel the searing thermals of his body heat and track the tangled riot of individual lashes framing each heavy-lidded stare. Tsukishima's voice had taken on a smoky, nectar-thick resonance that seemed to burrow straight down into your innermost nexuses of instinct and longing.

"Kei, I..." Whatever feeble protestation you attempted to summon fractured on your tongue as he dipped even nearer still. Tsukishima's nose skated a scorching, featherlight path along the line of your jaw until his mouth hovered a scant hairsbreadth from yours - so perilously close that you could taste the arid exhalations gusting from between his parted lips.

"Every fiber of my being rails against the mere notion of being an afterthought in your attentions," he confessed in a spine-tingling purr. "Of having to tolerate another encroaching on...what's mine."

The naked possessiveness saturating that final rasp stripped you of any remaining pretenses of composure. You could only manage a muted whimper from somewhere in the back of your throat as the full weight of Tsukishima's compulsions - his long-smoldering fixation you'd denied for far too long now - reverberated through you in rapturous detonations.

You sensed his gravitic tides enveloping you, every forbidden longing suddenly compressed into hyper-focused singularity between the searing, infinitesimal proximity of your bodies. Tsukishima searched your wide, unfocused stare for any hint of rejection or objection and found only stunned, reciprocal rapture gazing back.

"Tell me you don't want this as badly," he growled with low, dangerous timbre. "Look me in the eyes and convince me you haven't imagined surrendering to inevitability as completely as I have every torturous second of denying it..."

He sealed the minuscule gap separating you in one blistering rush. Tsukishima's mouth slanted hotly over yours with all the ruthless, unyielding insistence you'd come to expect but could never have braced for. The first shocking contact detonated like a lightning strike, shorting out any lingering mental processes apart from sheer visceral conflagration.

You shuddered full-bodily into the onslaught, hands convulsing in the cushions as his palms cradled your jaw to hold you immobile. Tsukishima surged even more impossibly nearer, his calloused palm rasping up the sensitive juncture of your throat until his fingertips found purchase in the dense silk of your hair.

Within seconds you were pliant and keening against him, lips parting wantonly on a gasping whine as he slanted his mouth across yours with relentless, devouring precision. The first exploratory swipe of his velvet tongue left you utterly unraveled, quaking with full-bodied devastation as Tsukishima mapped every searing nuance of your intimate geometries.

He allowed no quarter or reservations to persist - only the full, immolating truth of his compulsions made exquisitely and irrefutably manifest against the plush glide of your lips, the wet velvet of your mouth yielding beneath the onslaught of his attentions.

Every tremor that ripped through you seemed to lance Tsukishima with renewed fervency. He groaned, low and harrowing, as your eager fingers fisted spasmodically in the fabric of his shirt, seeking any sort of anchoring purchase amidst the bewildering, rapturous upheaval.

You'd never experienced anything like this - this level of sheer totality and berserker focus distilled into physical expression. It was as if Tsukishima were searing the incontrovertible truth of his fixation into your very bones using only his lips and tongue and ceaseless, gnawing hunger.

Years of repression and denial and circuitous gravities slowly compounding into critical mass between you abruptly detonated into coalescent bliss. This ravenous claiming was equal parts absolution and desperate, lurid gratification of compulsions far too immense to subdue any longer.

You felt the dense warmth of his palm skating searingly down your torso, bunching and rucking your clothing with each searing glide. The plaintive, wrecked sound you managed to produce at the sudden intimate contact only seemed to further unleash the rampant undertow of Tsukishima's ardor.

His answering growl rumbled straight through your hazes and nexi, reverberating across every shockwave of awakened nerves and nerve endings. Some distant part of you felt subsumed entirely under the rising tide of that overwhelming onslaught, relinquishing the last shards of agency and coherence to simply experience rapture in its most ruinous, annihilating distillation.

You surrendered utterly in that moment - mind, body, and soul catalyzed to a singular axis point devouring every permutation of reality save for the obscene, unholy revelations of Tsukishima's mouth and hands searing reality anew into your senses.

This was what you had both been hurtling towards for far too long, stubbornly resisting the cosmic insistence of fate and willful denial despite inevitability's inescapable gravities. With an inarticulate keen of abject surrender, you canted your jaw and yielding to the delirium of that blissful, eternal singularity at last.

Tsukishima, his obsession reified into living religion, was more than willing to meet you on that ecstatic boundary and usher you both fully across the divide.

The moment your lips parted in surrender, Tsukishima surged forward with the ferocious insistence of a man finally allowing years of repressed starvation to run rampant. His mouth slanted hotly over yours with lurid, open-mouthed fervor, tongue spearing past seam of your lips to map every searing plane of velvet within.

You keen softly at the blinding intensity, fingers convulsing in the rumpled fabric of his shirt as you pulled him bodily closer - suddenly desperate to extinguish any last vestige of space between your frames. Tsukishima growled his approval against your lips, hands spanning your jaw to tilt your head into the perfect devouring angle as his hips canted forward purposefully.

The blatant press and grind of his cock against your lower abdomen catalyzed a full-body shudder. You arched instinctively against the maddening friction, soft whimpers punching from your throat with each subsequent roll of Tsukishima's hips against your own. He swallowed those needy keens hungrily, tongue plunging with filthy precision to entwine and taste every nuance of reciprocation from you.

Your skin felt electrified, every fine hair prickling with rapturous sensitivity in Tsukishima's overwhelming radiance. You clutched at the cut slopes of his shoulders like a lifeline, mind hazing out into dissociative planes of ecstasy with each languid swirl and thrust of his tongue against yours. The dizzying intimacy of his ravenous mouth and roving hands mapping possessive paths across your shuddering curves was utterly obliterating.

Just when you felt the last tattered remnants of oxygen deprivation graying the corners of your consciousness, Tsukishima relented fractionally - dragging his lips in a scorching, openmouthed trail along the rigid tendons of your neck. You gulped in precious gulps of air, everything zoning into hyper-focused clarity on the heavenly ministrations of his mouth mapping your thundering pulse point before continuing up to lave the sensitive basin beneath your ear.

"Been dreaming of this..." he confessed in a voice guttered to smoke and honey. "Of finally having you splayed and breathless beneath me."

The barefaced carnal imagery and undisguised compulsion in his tone punched a whine from deep in your chest. Somewhere through the synaptic whiteouts of pleasure, you managed a tremulous plea for more of that undiluted truth to be scorched into your awareness.

Tsukishima growled in savage gratification, hips snapping forward again to grind deliciously against you as his mouth trailed liquid infernos across your cheekbone back towards your lips. "Had to watch you for years unconscious of how badly I wanted this...needed you laid out and whimpering for me."

Your resultant moan obliterated any lingering attempt at composure. He took ruthless advantage once more, tongue spearing past your parted lips to taste the uninhibited rapture. You surged against him mindlessly, fingers spasming into the tense cording of muscle spanning his back as your senses grew whited out in ecstasy.

Tsukishima shifted his weight to fully bracket you into the couch, the blissful cradle of his hips slotting obscenely against your own as his calloused fingers traced paths of ruination everywhere they roamed. You were malleable putty in his hands - liquefied by desperation and the annihilating surrender to compulsions held at bay for far too excruciatingly long.

Your clothes were rapidly becoming an obstacle, the fabric rucked and constricting until you felt the full force of Tsukishima's blazing touch against the delicate planes and curves of your bare skin. You writhed instinctively beneath him, desperate to be freed of the confines and fully submerged in the molten radiance of his body.

Tsukishima seemed to intuit your desire with the preternatural synchronicity he exhibited on the court. In seconds, his calloused palms had skimmed beneath your shirt and peeled it deftly overhead, tossing it carelessly aside as he drank in the sight of you half-clothed and quivering.

"Perfect..." He rasped, eyes darkening in appreciation as they raked over your bare chest and stomach, the peaks of your nipples stiffening beneath his ravenous gaze. Tsukishima's tongue darted across his lower lip, and the gesture was so sinfully enticing that you couldn't help but whine low in the back of your throat.

That seemed to spur him into action, and his hands were suddenly everywhere. Your pants and underwear disappeared in a whirlwind of movement, and then you were spread bare beneath him. The way he looked at you - the unmitigated heat and desire and raw possession gleaming in his stare - made you flush with arousal all over.

Tsukishima's hands were everywhere, mapping every exposed plane and curve with an intensity that left you gasping. His touch was searing, callouses rasping deliciously over the sensitive peaks of your breasts and nipples, making you arch into him.

"Please..." you gasped, already beyond words, beyond anything but the need to feel him against you, inside you. "Please, Kei..."

That seemed to be all the permission he needed. His eyes flashed with dark hunger, and his hands were moving to push his own pants and underwear off. You couldn't help the soft cry that escaped you as his cock sprang free, thick and heavy and leaking precum.

Tsukishima wasted no time, his fingers slipping between your thighs to find you dripping for him. You whined, bucking against him, desperate for more friction. His fingers slid inside you, fucking into you with a steady rhythm that had you writhing against him.

You could feel the molten, inescapable radiance of Tsukishima's stare tracking every twitch and flutter of expression, every involuntary jerk and shiver of response in your frame. He seemed intent on memorizing each subtle shift and hitch of rapturous torment rippling across your features, mapping the exact points that reduced you to keening, incoherent pleas.

His fingertips curled inside you with expert precision, stroking and teasing and stretching you open until you were a shuddering, moaning mess. You couldn't even think, could only feel, as the searing compulsion to be fully, utterly ravaged by Tsukishima's ravenous attentions obliterated all other concerns.

Tsukishima watched you come undone with a hunger that made your head spin. His eyes were dark and intense, drinking in every inch of you, every shudder and gasp. His gaze was nearly as palpable as his touch, setting your nerves alight.

"You're so beautiful like this..." he murmured, his voice ragged with lust. "All laid out and trembling for me, begging for my cock."

His words sent another wave of arousal through you, and you could feel yourself clench around his fingers. Tsukishima groaned, and his cock twitched, precum beading at the tip. You ached to taste him, to feel him inside you, filling you.

"Kei, please," you gasped, reaching for him, needing him. "Please, I need you, I need you inside me."

That seemed to be all the convincing he needed. Tsukishima withdrew his fingers, leaving you aching and empty for just a moment before his cock was pressing against your entrance. You moaned, arching into him, and he pushed inside with a groan.

The feeling of him inside you was almost too much. You were already so close, and the sensation of him filling you was enough to send you over the edge. But you wanted more, wanted to feel him move, to see him fall apart.

"Please," you managed, voice little more than a breathless whine. "Move, Kei, please, I need you..."

With a low growl, he began to move, thrusting into you with deep, powerful strokes that had you crying out with each one. His cock filled you perfectly, hitting every spot that made you see stars. You clung to him, desperate for more, needing more.

The sounds of pleasure falling from Tsukishima's lips were absolutely sinful. You could feel his gaze raking over you, watching you fall apart beneath him. His pace increased, driving into you harder and faster. You could feel your climax building, each stroke sending you closer and closer to the edge.

Tsukishima's fingers tangled in your hair, tugging your head back to expose the delicate line of your throat. His teeth grazed the sensitive skin, and you moaned, arching into him. His hips snapped forward, his cock hitting that perfect spot inside you over and over.

"Come for me," he growled, his voice raw with lust. "I want to feel you come, to feel you fall apart for me."

That was all it took to send you careening over the edge. You came hard, crying out his name as your orgasm crashed over you in wave after wave. He fucked you through it, prolonging your pleasure until you were a trembling, incoherent mess beneath him.

As your climax subsided, Tsukishima's movements became more erratic. He was close, you could tell, his breathing ragged and his thrusts losing their rhythm. You wrapped your legs around him, pulling him deeper, urging him on.

"Come for me, Kei," you managed, your voice barely above a whisper. "Come inside me, I need to feel you, please..."

Those words seemed to push him over the edge. With a groan, he thrust into you one last time, his cock pulsing as he spilled inside you. You clung to him, riding out his orgasm with him.

As the aftershocks faded, he collapsed against you, his body heavy and warm. You wrapped your arms around him, holding him close. You could feel his heart hammering against your chest, and his breath was hot against your neck.

You could have stayed like that forever, wrapped up in each other, but Tsukishima's weight was becoming uncomfortable. After a moment, he shifted, pulling out and rolling onto his side. His eyes were still dark, but now they were also soft, and his expression was unreadable.

"Are you okay?" His voice was low and gentle, and the tenderness in it made your heart ache.

You nodded, reaching up to cup his face in your hand. He leaned into the touch, and you could feel the tension in his body melting away.

"I'm perfect," you whispered, leaning up to press a kiss to his lips. He kissed you back, slow and sweet. "Absolutely perfect."

Tsukishima's answering smirk was infuriating and triumphant and insufferably smug, but he gathered you up in his arms and pressed a searing kiss to your temple nonetheless. The weight of him surrounding you, anchoring you to the here and now, felt like absolution and promise and utter perfection all rolled into one.

In the afterglow, there was no need to dissemble or deny the seismic magnitude of what had just transpired between the two of you. Tsukishima's arm draped possessively across your waist, his fingertips tracing idle, sensuous patterns across the smooth expanse of your abdomen as he pressed a drugging kiss to the nape of your neck.

"Do you regret it yet?" His murmured inquiry was a smoky rumble, laced with equal parts wry humor and uncharacteristic uncertainty.

"Never," you responded immediately, no hesitation or equivocation clouding your response. You craned your head back to lock gazes with him, allowing the full force of your conviction to bleed through in your stare.

A smile curled at the corners of Tsukishima's lips - the rare, genuine kind that made your heart skip a beat. He pressed another kiss to the hollow of your throat, his teeth grazing the tender skin just enough to make you gasp.

"Good," he purred, sounding distinctly self-satisfied as he curled his body possessively around yours. "Because I've been waiting years to do that...and I'm nowhere near done."

You laughed, lightheaded and giddy and utterly smitten. This had certainly escalated far beyond any realm of your comprehension, but Tsukishima's ardent compulsions had been so thoroughly fulfilled that he seemed willing to let the past - and whatever might have transpired between you and him tonight - fade into the ether of the future.

And when Tsukishima's mouth slanted across your lips in another searing, devouring kiss, you found that you really, truly couldn't bring yourself to care about anything beyond this blissful, annihilating singularity of reality.

You awoke the next morning, deliciously sore and tangled in Tsukishima's embrace. A lazy smile tugged at your lips as you basked in the warmth of his sleeping form. Memories of the previous night's passion made a pleasant shiver run down your spine.

A sharp rap at the door made you both jolt awake. Tsukishima frowned as the insistent knocking continued. You quickly gathered the blanket around your bare form as he tugged on a discarded pair of shorts and stalked over to answer it.

The door swung open to reveal Akiteru, a cheerful grin spreading across his face. "Hey, little bro! I was in the neighborhood and thought I'd—" His eyes went comically wide as they landed on you clutching the blanket to your chest. "Oh... Oh!"

Tsukishima pinched the bridge of his nose, cheeks flushing scarlet. "Aki..."

"You... and her?" Akiteru sputtered, smile dropping as the realization sank in. He swiveled his gaze between the two of you, brows climbing higher with each passing second.

An awkward silence stretched as you shrank further into the couch cushions. Akiteru's expression morphed from shock into a teasing smirk.

"Well, well, well. I can't say I didn’t see this coming!" He let out a low whistle. "Though I can't blame you for your excellent taste, Kei."

"Don't start," Tsukishima warned, ears burning. He snatched the pastry box from Akiteru's hands and shoved it against his chest. "Now get out before I slam the door in your face."

Akiteru chuckled, holding up his free hand in surrender. "All right, all right! I'm going!" He leveled a wink your direction. "We'll have to grab drinks sometime and you can give me all the details."

"Out!"

The door slammed on Akiteru's retreating laughter. Tsukishima's shoulders slumped as he turned back to you, expression tinged with mortification.

You bit your lip to stifle a grin. "Well... that was suitably awkward."

He groaned, falling onto the couch and burying his face in your neck. "I'm never going to hear the end of this."

Chuckling softly, you carded your fingers through his sleep-mussed curls. "Look on the bright side—at least he took it better than expected?"

Tsukishima huffed but made no move to pull away from your comforting embrace. After a long moment, he tilted his head back to meet your gaze, eyes softening.

"I guess that's one way to break the news," he murmured wryly.

You laughed, leaning down to brush a soft kiss to his furrowed brow. "Don't worry, we've got all the time in the world to figure the rest out together."

A faint smile finally curved his lips as he reached up to cup your cheek, expression filled with unguarded affection. "Yeah... together sounds perfect."

[k9wa]

𑣲 PREPARED. ft. BLADE

⠀ — he will not be overcome. blade prepared for this day

⠀ OR

⠀ — you’re only human and blade isn’t as ready for your death as he thought.

⚠︎ angst, some gore (?) character death, gn reader, this is kind of old

blade prepared for this day.

he reminded himself of all whom he’d seen fall in his years of existence with every breath he took.

blade prepared for this day.

the stellaron hunter had become well acquainted with his own immortality and the grief that without fail would follow him for all eternity.

blade prepared for this day.

he knew it was best to keep his distance from others, especially from humans. friendships or relationships of any kind were feeble and short-lived for a man like him. if you could even call him a man.

blade prepared for this day.

…so why was he speechless?

why had his breath betrayed him?

why did his legs grow weak, how was he brought to his knees with such ease, skin scraping harshly against the concrete beneath him?

blade prepared for this day… hadn’t he?

well, perhaps he’s slipped up a few times. but he was allowed that much, no?

maybe he shouldn’t have indulged you in so many stories of his travels, or the kinds of people he’d met along the way. but it was only because you were always so eager to hear about them, and the dejected look on your face when he’d say no was irritating.

and sure, he probably could have done without the gentle touches and almost domestic intimacy, but that couldn’t have done too big of a number on him. the emotions blade felt ranged from numb to violent, and had not stretched farther than the between for the last hundred years at least. a kiss to your cheek or your arms wrapped around him from behind couldn’t have really changed that.

no. it couldn’t have.

because blade prepared for this day.

he repeats it in his head like a mantra as he cradles you to his chest, your blood staining his bandaged and scarred hands as it drips to the stone floor. there's a sea of bodies surrounding you, a sign of blade’s inevitable victory alongside your inevitable demise.

all blade could do was watch as the spear pierced through your flesh and bones like they were butter, time almost slowing down as he bolted to your side as fast as he could once he noticed the pointed steel hurling towards you.

he was too late, only arriving in time to catch you as your knees buckled before you could tumble to the ground.

it was clean shot through your heart and left lung, tip of the spear poking out of your chest and staring him menacingly in the eye.

blade prepared for this day.

he knew you would not survive.

humans were fragile. a piercing shot through some vital organs was more than enough to take your life.

he pulled it out as quickly as he realised the tragic truth, hoping to make you more comfortable. he whispers small, rushed apologies into your ear as you cry out from the steel ripping through you again, this time the opposite way.

ren fought to keep his hands steady as he held you tightly against him. he would not panic in your final hours, he would not be an addition to the turmoil of your unfair death.

blade prepared for this day.

he sucks down the urge to scream out and curse the aeons for doing this to him again. he swallows the desire to pierce himself with the very weapon that would take you from him as punishment to himself for thinking this time will be different.

a calloused hand is held to your cheek as your body clings to its life, small choked gasps leaving your lips as if your lungs could even hold the air.

ren rests his forehead against yours, swirls of tangerine and crimson and pale skin shining through your cloudy vision. your efforts to speak are in vain, he just shushes you quietly.

“just look at me.” his voice is quiet, eerily calm and surprisingly comforting.

his thumb rubs small circles on your cheek, he can feel the puddle of blood on his pants growing. you comply, gazing up into his hardened eyes as you swear you see grief shining behind them. perhaps it's just the blood loss.

“you’re okay.” ren’s voice is like silk, despite its natural rasp. he tries to will himself to crack the slightest of smiles for your comfort. he cannot.

blade prepared for this day.

your hand shakily raised up to try and hold his, and all you can do is weakly grab onto his wrist. yet you’re smiling. you turn your head slightly to the left and kiss his palm, and blade does not see fear nor anguish in your eyes. he sees a sea of peace, two lakes of adoration staring back at him.

“you’re okay.” he repeats, lips meeting your forehead softly. “i’ve got you.”

it proves harder and harder to keep his hands steady as your eyes grow heavier, fluttering shut. he pulls you closer to him, squeezing his own eyes shut as if just seeing your face was pushing him over the edge.

blade prepared for this day.

he can feel your breaths shortening, becoming more shallow. he sucks in a breath.

blade prepared for this day.

“i’ll find you.” he wouldn’t. the place your mind and soul would travel to was the only place in the galaxy he traversed across that he could not reach despite his endless and verying attempts. whether the empty pledge is a futile attempt at a comfort to you or him will remain unknown.

blade prepared for this day.

whether the words reached you or not also remains up in the air. ren watches as your chest stops attempting to rise. if you were anyone else, he would be jealous.

blade thought he prepared for this day.

but realistically, nothing could ever truly prepare him again and again for the feeling he knew all too well; loss.

⠀ 𑣲 MASTERLIST / GOT A REQUEST ?

[lild00td00t]

Unexpected Kisses

Characters: Buggy, Shanks, Ace, Sanji, and Franky

Some smoochies for our One Piece fellas <3 Enjoy

Buggy

• It is SO easy to catch this man off guard, he’s always ranting about one thing or the other. It’s either that or he’s drinking and partying the day away!

• So it’s a huge surprise when you kiss his cheek, and go back to your current task at hand as if nothing happened, and yes he absolutely WILL throw a fit when you pretend nothing happened.

• Claims he’s not embarrassed about the sudden kiss, but the shade of his face proves otherwise, he’s totally shocked.

• Deep down he probably appreciates it, but he’s simply too stubborn to admit it!

Shanks

• Sees it coming but pretends he doesn’t, will gladly return the kiss unless you’re feeling playful and run away. In which case a chase will ensue, he WILL get that kiss.

• kisses are such a huge thing between you two, much to the dismay of the other Red Haired Pirates, he’s such a physical and affectionate person, intimacy is a huge thing in your relationship!

• Hes so affectionate, and always playful with you, it’s almost as if you make him feel like a young man again.

•I personally think surprise ones would be his favorite because of their playful nature.

• The look on your face when you think you’ve shocked him simply makes him melt. So he allows you to believe he was completely unware of your plans, because he finds the expression on your face so worth it <3

Portgas D. Ace

• He is the king of suprises, though they blend in with pranks a lot of the time. He’s always finding ways to surprise you, whether it be with small gifts or tricks he’s picked up, he loves to impress you.

• So when you return the favor with a suprise kiss he’s over the moon. He was in his own little world, looking over the railing of the Moby Dick when he felt the peck you delivered. Prepare for it to be an all out kiss war!!

• Much like Shanks these kisses are playful! They involve you stealing his hat and usually tumbling over one another as he fights to get it back!

• I feel he takes enjoyment out of your suprise affections, because god knows he absolutely needs all the love you give him.

• He’s not shy giving you sudden kisses either, whatever you give him he returns! Whether you’re in the dining room, out shopping, on the deck of the Moby Dick, he’ll give you wonderful surprise kisses <3

Sanji

• He would be the most affected by your gesture. One minute he’s explaining how he seasons the skillet before beginning to cook, and the next you’re both hurrying to plug his nose up before he bleeds out

• While he’s explaining, there’s such a handsome smile on his face. Hearing him talk about something he’s so passionate about always makes your heart swell for him, so it was hard for you to NOT kiss him, it’s not your fault he wasn’t prepared!!

• He one hundred percent begs for more, going as far to turn his head and tap his cheek, asking for just one more!

• I don’t think Sanji would suprise you with kisses, but I do imagine kisses come with the drinks and food he brings for you.

• I also imagine Sanji times kisses perfectly. So that whenever it happens it feels like it’s out of a movie or a romance novel. He definitely has a knack for making you feel like you’re in the most romantic setting you’ll ever be in <3

Franky

• He’s probably going to react the most wholesome out of everyone, we’ve all seen him during sentimental stories, and he is truly the most precious cyborg!

• Loves it when you find him working, he’ll answer all your questions, none of them rousing suspicion until you ask him to look up

• That’s when you strike! Pecking his forehead while he sits idly, trying to comprehend what happened.

• Giggles non stop when you kiss him, his face will grow red and he’ll lean in, asking for more. He just can’t get enough of your affections!

• He will always return kisses, and as stated, will be an absolute giggling MESS! Only you can bring out such a soft and pure side of him

• The kisses you give him will simply make his day, if he’s ever bummed out or needing a recharge a cola is always nice, but you offer an extra incentive with suuupppeeerrrr kisses!!

[cosmicanakin]

anakin drabbles!

adult content / minors do NOT interact.

pairing. anakin skywalker x female reader.

contains. penetration, possessiveness, power dynamics, unprotected sex ( stay safe folks ), explicit language.

authors note. miss anakin terribly so i wrote this <3

divider creds @fairytopea / @pfpanimes

soft pants fill the air as anakin hovers above you, caging your writhing form beneath his solid bulk. intense blue eyes gaze down hungrily, taking in every gasp and mewl escaping plump lips parted in ecstasy.

"you're mine, y/n." he growls against the shell of your ear, nipping the sensitive flesh teasingly. whimpers turn to full-blown moans as he pulls nearly all the way out before snapping his hips forward in a sharp thrust.

"i'm yours, ani. only yours." you cry out, fingernails raking down sculpted back muscles unable to find purchase against sweat-slicked skin. a low rumbling chuckle greets this admission of submission to his masterful control over your trembling form.

grasping your wrists in a firm yet tender hold, he pins them above your head stretching your frame taut as a bowstring beneath his divine ministrations. his ruthless pace never falters, leaving you bereft of ability to meet each passionate roll of powerful hips locking perfectly to your own.

leaning down to claim your mouth in a blisteringly carnal kiss, he swallows each sweet sound of ecstasy spilling wantonly from your lips. the way his tongue curls around and plunders your own mimics his merciless plowing driving you ever closer to cliffs edge.

"you feel incredible, so tight and wet. i don't ever want to spill myself anywhere but your hot little cunt." anakin growls roughly, never losing stride even as your walls begin fluttering wildly around his massive cock.

a litany of praise and possessive endearments tumble from his lips, fuelling your building orgasm higher with each scorching word. "that's it baby, cum for me. i want to feel you milk my cock - every last drop."

with a cry muffled against his shoulder, the blinding release claiming your senses sends colors bursting behind clenched lids. your entire being shreds to pieces impaled so deliciously on his long thick shaft, barely registering continued powerful drives through your pulsing walls gripping him vice-like.

anakin growls viciously, slamming into your limp pliant form a final few times before erupting in a scorching torrent shooting so deep you swear you feel it pooling low in your gut. emptying himself fully buried to the hilt ensures every molecule is branded solely to your greedy channel throbbing delicately around his now softening length.

taking his time to ride out the waves of bliss still crash through your joined forms, he peppers tender kisses across flushed skin comely sheened with a fine mist. lazily rocking gentle strokes ease you both down from ecstasy, words of adoration whispered like prayers against clammy flesh.

collapsing atop your sated form, anakin draws your pliant body flush against the masculine contours of his own painted vibrantly with afterglow's glow. tucking sweaty flyaways behind your ear, massive arms encircle your frame possessively despite tenderness flooding blue irises gazing down adoringly.

yours and anakin's souls remain joined closer than any physical melding, hearts beating as one to the rhythm of shared intimacy's melody. a perfection found solely with your lover, whose passion knows no bounds beckoning you ever higher ascending together.

[sincerelyverena]

can you do ollie watching felix and reader in the bathtub plss

this was so fun to write! i absolutely adored exploring a more submissive oliver in this one. thank u for the request my lovely anon. <3

⟡⁺ SALTWATER

. . . OLIVER QUICK X FELIX CATTON X FEM!READER ‘i'm your biggest fan, i'll follow you until you love me.’ @watercolorskyy

inbox is always open to requests!

in whichꕀ

✦ ﹒oliver witnessed his most secret fantasies play out before him.

tagsꕀ

✦ ﹒smut ﹐dom!felix﹐oliver being a creepy little fucker ﹐felix giving princess treatment﹐reader and felix are an established pairing ﹐oh felix! you little tease!﹐felix taking control ﹐voyeurism﹐non-consential voyeurism ﹐waterplay﹐rubber duck rubber fuck﹐masturbation ﹐pet names ﹐praise﹐bite-sized oneshot

THANK YOU TO MY WONDERFUL BETA READERS: @sparklehani ﹐@vikwrites

They always said an open door is an invitation.

What was remaining of Oliver’s good-willed conscience advised him to turn back. He turned a blind eye to the nagging voice polluting the crevices of his scalp. Alas, the musters of benevolence tumble into an attuned silence at the scene poured to life before him.

The vivid imagination from the deepest crevices of Oliver’s fantasies played out before the widening of his aquamarine irises.

You. Perched atop the broadened boundaries of Felix’s lap. The length of your legs propped on either side of his awfully prominent hips. A sight alone caused the fabric of Oliver’s lower nightwear to tighten, which caused the bridge of his throat to constrict with halted breath.

As if a single movement out of place would disturb such intimacy.

The extent of Oliver’s arm extended upward, hand grappled around the ridge of the rippled doorway. Fingers twisting, pouring the molten heat pooled behind his abdomen throughout the strain of his ever-so-whitening knuckles.

A soft moan sounded throughout the otherwise quiet air.

An even softer gasp accompanies the seemingly murmured noise. “Felix…”

Oliver’s eyes offered a singular flutter. The firmament blue hardened into an avid mirror of lust as he witnessed the scene playing out before his very presence. 

The depths of Felix’s girth are illustrated beneath your weeping cunt. Oliver had to refrain from any variation of a choked noise to escape the hollow of his throat at the depiction. The flimsy material of the garments hung by his hips seemed to be on the verge of snapping altogether in the hue of your strangled pleas as Felix teased your slit.

“Did my baby forget how to use her words?” Felix’s prodding words drawled onward, lazily at that. Each syllable bounced off of the bathroom’s sleazy walls and reverberated into the crook of Oliver’s ears. 

His left arm immersed itself in the translucent water pooling around the pair. The other extended toward yourself, the adequate length of his fingers combed throughout the dampness of your locks. Teasing each hair strand before the edges of his digits rim along your scalp.

Felix’s water-submerged hand crept toward the space sandwiched between the roll of your back and the soft fat of your thighs. His palm pressed deeply into your asscheeks, squeezed into it. You yelped.

“What d’ya want, princess?”

The tip of his girth continued to strain against you purposefully. “Felix, don’ make me beg…”

The hand that once cradled the side of your head retreated from the wetness of your hair. Broadened fingers pull around the dew-dusted surface of your jaw, stubby nails dug into whatever face fat you possessed. You moaned around his hands, the sound muffled by the pure pressure his hand possessed.

Your moans turned into pleas. “Fi, baby– I… need you in me.”

“Say please.” 

“Please..”

Oliver thought for a moment he’d release in his pants then and there.

As Felix began to ease himself into you, the bridge of Oliver’s hand wordlessly slipped into the fabric adorning his hips. Fingers itching to ease the throbbing strain of his groin, already slick with thin pre-cum. The ridge of your back arched with strangled breath as Felix’s girth disappeared into you completely.

Palms pressed toward his neck, and you choked back a whimper. The sturdiness of Felix’s hips began to shift toward you lazily. His thrusts were comparable to rolls as his girth massaged the tightness of your inner walls. You found yourself grinding desperately against him, the friction coursing speckles of pleasure to ignite within you.

As the snaps of Felix’s length gradually intensify, so does the work of Oliver’s palm. His eyes practically glazed over as he witnessed before him the writhing sensualness that occurred. If Oliver didn’t know his proper place, he’d be a whining mess as you were now.

“My beautiful girl, you’re doin’ so well.” 

Felix praised in between strained breaths. The base of his hand slipped from your dew-graced shoulders toward the roll of your hips. He bathed in the little noise that escaped the depths of your throat as he plunged himself deeper into you.

Oliver’s cock convulsed. Reams of pleasure built at the base of his spine.

You were similarly nearing the edge. Had given in ages ago to Felix’s timing rather than yours. Gone were the desperate writhing of your wetness. Replaced solely by the erratic pace your lover had built into you. 

“Fi, I’m… almost there.”

“I dunno, you feel too good ‘round me sweetheart.” Felix teased, a humorous tone alighting the drawl of his words. He pumped into you a tad hoarser for exaggeration. Upturned lips in the fashion in which you clung yourself upon him. A silent plea to go deeper. 

Oliver almost slipped a breathless curse from the hitched nature of his breath. His girth is hot in the base of his hands, dripping pure need between his fingers. The fact that he was as desperate as you are to release almost made him combust.

“On one condition.” Felix prompted at last.

“Anything.”

He continued to drive himself deeper into you. The hand Felix adorned upon your hips tightened with each word that escaped the lushness of his lips. He grunted with effort, yet kept an easygoing hue in his voice as he continued. 

“The only word I want to hear on your lips when you cum is my name.”

The renowned heir deep inside you now refused to await a proper response. Instead, the work of his hips tightened into a merciless tempo. Striking ass as he plunged into you over and over again. Prying out noises of pleasure you never knew were possible, all while singing his name with praise. 

Just as he ordered.

The pleasure that conquered the base of your torso intensified, just as Oliver, whose fingers grew warm with the strength he poured into his arm movements. He surveyed you, comparable to a hawk as he caught onto the scattered hints of your soon-to-be release. How Oliver only wished deeply to be inside of you as Felix is now, to have the opportunity to feel your tightness. He squeezed the entire wrap of his fingers around his length.

“Felix, Felix, Felix…”

You whispered his name like a prayer. Like a mantra. A mantra as you grew hot with a desire to peak, that peak approaching rapidly. The basis of your vision shifts rapidly with the pure intensity of the ecstasy that plunged into you. Oliver soon grew to repeat these mantras to himself, choking back physical moans as his digits pathetically rolled along the tip of his girth.

Felix’s release was growing closer, although he didn’t make it obvious. He never did. He just peered downward at you with a lazy drawl of a smile, soaking up the view of you sprawled out for him. Chanting his name. He reached downward into the lukewarm waters, the tip of his two fingers brushing against the pearl that lined your drenched entrance.

“I need you to cum for me. Can you do that?” Felix inquired aloud, a hint of childish glee audible in his voice. The pounding his girth offered to you never faltered the slightest in the meantime, an awe-aspiring – yet not surprising – sentiment he possessed.

In response to his words, you could only nod. Too overtaken with ecstasy.

Oliver, on the other hand, bored his eyes into Felix longingly. “Yes, yes, please.” His words too mustered to be heard over the fucking pounds of flesh and skin. It felt good to say. To good as his length pulsated in between his grip.

“Such a good girl.” Felix hummed his praises. The fingers that fidgeted with your clit fell back, pinching the bud instead. The motion is enough to pull you over the edge entirely. 

You snapped. Coming undone underneath his relentless jackings. The tide had broken, and the pleasure you had been chasing for minutes now had broken into you entirely. Felix. Felix. Felix. All you could vocalise. He was your beginning, your end. Your everything.

But the core of your fantasies. The middle. He stood blanketed in the shadows, relying on the small gap between the door and frame. His back arched with effort as he reached his peak. Oliver’s fingers squeezed around the doorway in an attempt to choke back any musters of his presence. White-hot pleasure seared through him, cock convulsing entirely as the centre of his boxers grew warm with the force of his seed. He could see stars. Hell, Oliver was convinced he could’ve taken a glimpse of the Earth’s secrets entirely with the force of his orgasm.

He came back down to reality with a single sentiment that overlooked the pure euphoria he had received. Oliver watched onward for a few extended seconds as Felix followed in his peak, and you slumped into him. Unaware of his presence, unaware of his thirst for the both of you.

You had never known the love he possessed for you.

You had never even suspected the fact Oliver would kill to submit to the two of you entirely.

Up until now, at least.

WORD COUNT: 1K MASTERLIST REQ ME!

[actual-changeling]

Season One meta posts in 2024? Yes, very much so. We need more of that.

Will this be slightly unhinged? Yeah, probably, so welcome back to Alex's unhinged meta corner.

Everyone has probably connected the kiss back to the wall-slam scene in Tadfield Manor by now, but while I was re-watching it for the nth time and combing through it frame by frame like a mentally sane person, I realised just how orchestrated it was from beginning to end.

I assume we can agree that Aziraphale called Crowley nice on purpose to get a hint of intimacy out of him, but I think this time it is very different from the other instances during which he reacts with anger to being called nice.

My first main observation is the way Aziraphale positions himself.

We pick up after Crowley's explanation about the non-lethal shooting happening outside, and they are facing each other at an angle, with Aziraphale having stopped a few steps behind him.

Now, until the slam itself, Crowley doesn't move, he remains where he is, waiting. (We'll come back to that in a bit)

However, instead of remaining at a safe distance or standing literally standing anywhere else, he walks a small curve to then stop right in front of Crowley. Not at his side or a little bit away or at a respectable distance—no, right in his face. You can judge his position by looking at the wooden door (?) in the background.

The following camera position makes it hard to see the amount of distance between their faces, but we know that he must be close enough so that Crowley can immediately grab his coat without problem.

Excuse my art skills, but just to make sure everyone is on the same page, have a little drawing showing their positions and movements.

Now, that manoeuvring takes Aziraphale a few seconds, and what does he do? He stalls. Look at what exactly he tells Crowley:

You know, Crowley, I've always said that, deep down, you are quite a nice—

There are a lot more words than necessary! He could have shortened that sentence but he didn't, and on top of that, if you listen to him say it, he makes two noticeable pauses, one after 'Crowley with a little look outside, one after 'that'. By then he has reached his final position, so no more stalling, he can try to finish his sentence now.

Alex, you might say now, of course Aziraphale did it on purpose, but Crowley only reacted to what he said.

And to that I respond, nope, he was 100% in on it.

I know because when Aziraphale stops in front of him, he waits. He does not move, he doesn't shut him up even though he has heard the same spiel hundreds of times—no, he is waiting and allowing Aziraphale to initiate their little game.

This face is not the face of someone who is already angry or confused about which words will tumble out of Aziraphale's mouth. He even arches his eyebrow in a motion that I personally interpret as 'go on'.

Crowley is listening and waiting for the signal, and the moment Aziraphale says 'nice', he grabs him and pushes him up against the opposite wall. It's an extraordinarily quick reaction, the kind you have when you know you're about to act and what you'll do.

Some further evidence that the entire moment was orchestrated by the two of them.

Aziraphale stretches out his arms behind him to brace himself against the wall, he was expecting to be moved that way and intentionally put himself into a position that would allow Crowley to do so.

Additionally, by grabbing his lapels the way he does, Crowley can make sure that the back of his head doesn't hit the wall. If you watch the clip by yourself and slow it down, you'll discover that Aziraphale gently rests it against the wall on his own while Crowley is talking.

Aziraphale is completely relaxed not only because he knows Crowley would never hurt him, but also because this entire thing is a game that they willingly participate in. It is dangerously under-negotiated, sure; luckily they more or less agree on the ground rules.

Obligatory close-up with the noise squish because I am a blorbo connoisseur and not a heathen. The little eye gaze at the lips, and if you ask me, and this is my post so you ARE asking me, Crowley is very much looking at Aziraphale's lips from behind his glasses.

But I have one more observation to make!

I could never quite put my finger on why exactly the scene felt off, but now I am convinced it's because despite the act, Crowley isn't actually upset. There ARE times when Aziraphale actively crosses a boundary and endangers him with his compliments, but this is not one of them. The growling, him baring his teeth, the fact that he is pressing their entire bodies together, him leaning in thar far, and also what the FUCK is he saying?

The excerpt from the script books:

First part okay, I can buy that, a bit basic but alright. But 'nice is a four letter word'? Where exactly was he going with that and how was that sentence going to end? It's close enough to the topic to pass as real for any outsider who might overhear them, but if you actually listen and try to comprehend it—yeah, no, he was about to go full gibberish.

The goal wasn't to yell at Aziraphale about calling him nice, it was all about prolonging the physical intimacy by holding a monologue.

If you still don't believe me, have a look at their faces when they get interrupted.

Crowley has a "whot?" expression on his face and not a single hint of anger or annoyance. Aziraphale has an expression I will lovingly call "perish you peasant and let my demon husband slam me against a wall in peace".

If someone gave you only this picture—no context, nothing—what would you assume they were doing before someone rudely interrupted them? Based on what the fuck is happening on their faces and the complete lack of distance between their bodies, you'd probably assume they were snogging each other senseless.

Which they were, in a way, just without the lip contact.

I rest my case.

[cyborg-franky]

Hi! I have a request : an headcanon of sabo, ace and law (separate) react to a usually shy reader asking to bath together ? (I don’t mind any pronouns by the way)

Anyway have a good day/ night and don’t forget to eat and hydrate !!

Ace x GN Reader Law x GN Reader Sabo x GN Reader SFW

Ace

He laughed when he heard you ask to bathe together, not a mean laugh but one of disbelief. You were just so damn shy that hearing those words from you just tickled him.

Ace blinked a few times when you played with the hem of your sweater and avoided eye contact with him, that was when he stopped laughing and cleared his throat. 

“Really?” He asked and you nodded. When you did force yourself to stop staring at the floor and meet his eye you could see a dusting of blush across his freckled cheeks.

That was surprising. The way Ace talked to people, he would brag about flirting with people whenever the ship was docked. But he was shifting in place, the blush growing as he rubbed the back of his neck, mulling it over.

“Yeah, we can if ya wanna?” He wanted, needed, to hear you confirm again. He didn’t want to do anything that would make you feel uncomfortable.

“I do,”

Ace’s unsure smile soon turned into a big grin as he sprung up from his seat and offered you his hand. “Let's go then!” he said, winking, his usual confidence back in full swing once he knew this was your idea and you wanted this as much as him.

“I’ll try to behave,” he said with a playful waggle of his eyebrows which had you rolling your eyes with a chuckle, taking his hand and feeling him pull you eagerly in the direction of the bathroom.

Law

“Excuse me?” He asked, pausing from what he was doing, setting down the book and looking at you. You felt the weight of his scrutinizing gaze as grey eyes peered into your soul, at least that's how you felt.

Trying not to shrink under the intensity of his stare you bit the inside of your cheek trying to summon up the courage to repeat yourself “I was just curious if you wanted to go have bathe together. I thought it would be romantic.. Relaxing…”

Law sat back in his seat and hummed. “That’s what I thought you said,” He clicked his tongue as he adjusted in his seat. Neither of you were very forward with such things so it had taken him by surprise when his normally shy partner asked such a thing.

“How about a shower instead? I don’t like baths, it’s st-” “Stewing in your own filth, I know, I know.” You grinned when he blinked at you after you finished his sentence. Law crossed his arms over his chest and just chuckled in response. “Yes, a shower sounds great.”

You felt your heart skip a beat, giddy that he had agreed and you watched him stand up, nodding for you to lead the way.

Sabo

Sabo stared at you with wide eyes when you asked him that, it wasn’t so much that he knew you to be so shy it was his own hangups on his body. He rubbed his arms, scars hidden by the long sleeves as he looked around the room, not wanting to make eye contact with you.

“Really?” He asked, unsure himself. You seemed to deflate at how he was reacting, you thought he would be surprised to hear that coming from you but he seemed sort of against it which made you regret asking for such an intimacy with him.

“You don’t have to, I just thought it might be nice?” You shrugged your shoulders, trying to act like you weren’t upset by his beating around the bush on his way to refusing you.

“No, no, no, it’s not like that!” He waved his hands before grabbing your shoulders when you tried to back out of the situation. “I just… Not many people have seen how I look without clothes…” 

You worked it out, everything tumbled into place. It wasn’t you it was how he saw himself.

“Don’t worry about your scars, I love every part of you Sabo.” You said, gently reaching up to rub his cheek, feeling the scar that covered his face. “I promise.” You felt him place his hand on yours and he nodded. “Alright, let's do it,”

[improper-use-of-germx]

i love feline like aliens! just imagine a alien crewmate absentmindedly wrapping their tail around your leg because they feel safe but then you stand up and trip bc of said tail

Omg anon please that's so cute. Idk if anyone here has listened to Starline series by asmr gav on Youtube (Which I highly recommend, it's what first got me into alien romance) but the main love interest at one point absentmindedly wraps his tail around the MC and then has to explain that it's a gesture of compassion and intimacy, which leads to them experimenting with other forms of intimacy.

Most of my alien characters have tails of some kind. They can be prehensile, used interchangeably with other limbs to grab things or balance themselves after a tumble, with the added benefit of having something to hold you with while still being able to work. (Or hold you in a way out of sight, literally under the table if the relationship is looked down upon, but they still want you to know how much they care)

Maybe they were evolved for some social reason, an extra method of emoting that remains even when they interact with members of another species. Tails that twitch or lash out in annoyance, tails that swish back and forth with adorably obvious glee when you get closer than they were expecting.

And my favorite, tails that usually hang low but perk up when they spot someone they like. Crewmates have to be aware of how close they are at any given time, no one wants to be smacked because you walked into the room and accidentally triggered their "happy tail".

[wonfilms]

˗ˏˋ SEVENTEEN ;  AS TYPES OF AFFECTION ( ♡ ) ˎˊ˗

𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒   rating : gen audience , incl. : o13 x gn! reader , genre. : fluff ,  warnings : n/a , w.c : 4.9k

seungcheol brushes his nose against yours before he kisses you. he doesn’t know why he does it but he likes the way it makes you get oh, so shy. your eyes snap shut in embarrassment and he watches as your lips form a small pout,  and if anything that just makes him wanna kiss you even more. 

jeonghan is a menace, and he likes to show you that but in a few precious moments, every so often, jeonghan gets soft. the yoon jeonghan gets soft . laid in bed at night he mumbles his love into the darkness, and presses a few sweet to your forehead praying you don’t wake up. you’ll let him have his way of course even the times you are awake, god forbid you make him flustered, though you’d like to see him blush more often. 

joshua likes to press feather light kisses on your knuckles every time he has your hand in his. it makes him feel like the quite romantic as he watches the way you hide your face and groan at him to stop. your ring finger looks so empty, he teases maybe he’ll have to fill the gap, he says, and though you applaud how smooth he is , he’s gonna have a hard time when you come at him later with cheesy liners yourself. 

jun is a cuddler, he admits it. whenever he sees you laying in bed after getting home late, he just wants to cuddle you so tight and never let go. you’re so warm and huggable he can’t even help himself. he wouldn’t even stop himself from doing so but the fact you look so peaceful asleep holds him back a little, maybe when you’re awake he’ll hug you half to death instead. 

hoshi links pinkies with you. it started as a way to be more discrete in public about your relationship while still enjoying a casual little intimacy but even now that every one knew about the two of you, he still likes to entangle his pinkie with yours letting his thumb rub small little hearts on your palm.  it’s so so comforting to him. 

wonwoo likes to hold your hand though he’ll never admit it, his stomach does a little leap every time you intertwine your fingers with his. there’s something so damn precious about you , he want’s to keep your hand in his forever, but he’ll lie for now and say it’s just to keep your hand warm and not because he loves holding it so much.

woozi shows his love by giving you a little cheek kiss before tumbling out of bed every morning. it makes you smile every time, and you found yourself thinking about the ways his kisses changed every morning. one day it may be longer than 3 seconds, or maybe he’ll give you a quick on before he rushes to get ready because he slept in, perhaps he might even roll you over and kiss you right on the lips instead.

mingyu likes to kiss you at every chance he gets, as you’re waiting in line at 6am to get coffee he presses his lips to your forehead. it’s brief as if his lips were barely there...  nothing but innocent, it felt so sweet ( just like the way his lips taste from his drink when he kisses you properly ) and yet you still find your face getting warm under your mask. 

dokyeom warms up the shower for you in the morning, is there any more to say? ( he’s so perfect with his physical affection that i had to say something else) . he wouldn’t mind showering in lukewarm water if it meant you can have the hot water afterwards, on days you shower together he’ll even wash your hair for you  if , in turn , you wash his as well. he may have to crouch down a little for you though. 

minghao’s been taking notes of how you like to dress ever since he got to know you, and hell he’s accurate. whenever he’s out shopping, he seems knows exactly what would suit you and what you’d like.. it’s so sweet how he hands the item over to you with a soft smile. he’d never force you to wear anything but when you do wear outfits picked by him, you can see a noticeable blush on his face as you show it off to him. 

seungkwan make you a meal from scratch at least once a week. even between his busy schedule he tries his best to show you his love through some warming food. bonus points if it ends up turning into a date night, spent lazing , entangled in each others arms on the sofa , with a film and wine. 

vernon makes you a playlist for any occasion you can think of. he knows that you miss him when he’s away on tour and just for that he collects songs he’d think you’d enjoy or songs that remind him too much of you for you to listen to when he’s not there. music is a massive part in his life and he thinks it’s the perfect way to show someone how much you love them, he thinks it’s rather beautiful how even a simple melody can somehow remind him of you. 

chan took you to a bracelet making stall on your 1st date. he thought it would be a cute unconventional first date idea and it certainly was a success, you came back for a 2nd date and then a third and somehow you’ve ended up moving in with him after 2 years of dating. the whole experience stuck with you and now every year he takes you back to the same little shop just so he can make you a new one, for the new year of love you guys can share. 

a/n : my first ot13 post! i really hope you guys like it! i’m gonna be posting lots of svt content in the near future <3 thank you for all the support! this made me  so so soft.

[dxckgrxsonx]

Dick Grayson the type to make out with your pussy after having a stressful night, he'll make you cum over and over again, till you're sobbing and you don't know if you're pushing him away or pulling him closer to your pussy as you become overstimulated

hhHHH yes!! His head gets too loud so he just buries it between your thighs. You didn't want to come like six times in a row?? too bad.

**

He gets his post patrol thoughts trapped in a cycle and his body feels like it's coming apart when he strips out of his suit but you're soft and awake and wearing something he can easily push to the side so he can get his mouth on you.

There's stress and the burden of incredible responsibility and sometimes he just wants to give you something good because it also makes him feel good.

He makes sure to hold your hands so you can't push him away when when it gets too much. It's soft and sweet but it's ultimately not an act of intimacy; its more like control, or a contingency for when the overstimulation guides you to start trying to pull away. He intertwines your fingers so he can hold you still, so he can anchor your trembling hands against your tummy and continue to kiss at your sensitive pussy.

His mouth is wet and sticky with your arousal and he loves it. Answers your soft, tired little noises with obscene licks and sucks at your puffy, sore clit until there's slick coating his chin.

He makes sure to keep the pressure light, buffering the otherwise sharp sting of overstimulation. Kisses your pussy and gives it long, slow licks from your soaked entrance to your swollen clit, making sure to really make out with the most sensitive part of you.

He pushes you over the edge for what feels like the tenth time but he just lightens up the pressure until your pussy stops twitching against his mouth, and then he starts again, soft, slow kisses until you're crying and shivering but undoubtedly building up to that peak again even though you think it should be impossible.

Just tumbling from one high to another, burning from overstimulation and having no choice but to take it until Dick manages to break the cycle in his head.

[iwasthenightingale]

Maybe it's just the feral ace person who resides within me, but I desperately want Crowley and Aziraphale's first real kiss to be entirely awkward and innocent and honestly kind of chaste

I want Aziraphale, desperate to hold Crowley, words tumbling out of him as he says "You know, the first time in my bookshop didn't count. And I should very much like to try, er... kissing again. Perhaps. If you were amenable?"

I want Crowley, mute with shock, but nodding incredibly enthusiastically. And Aziraphale's hands, hesitant but still reaching, hovering over Crowley as he shuffles forward and tries to learn how to touch him

I want blushing as Aziraphale asks softly "so, um... was it something l-like... like this?" and Crowley doing everything in his power not to move or self combust as he inches closer

I want the gentlest, most barely there brush of lips, so soft and sweet, and a sharp inhale as Aziraphale wrenches back to take in Crowley, his beautiful Crowley, and feel the tingling warmth against his lips

And then I want them to melt together, not even because the kiss is particularly charged, but because they adore each other and have been kept apart for far far too long, and no amount of closeness or intimacy could ever be enough for them

[werecreature-addicted]

to the anon asking about the large amount of sex-trafficking/rape prompts/stories/blurbs, im going to try and give you a real answer

one major factor, is shame

it's a largely subconscious thing, the fact people's sexual fantasies lean toward this aggressive often dehumanizing scenarios.

but its something that has been observed in people raised with very strict social expectations regarding sexuality often having rape fantasies, because it is a way to indulge in their sexual feelings without having to admit to them, in a way.

i, personally, am fat and queer. and while never stated outright to my face, the fact that small children have on several occasions began crying while looking at me in the supermarket line, I would also have to assume im not that much of a looker either

any show of desires for intimacy, physical or emotional, has been laughed at. people asked me out as a joke when i was in school, my father's side of the family openly lamented my appearance since I was a child because my only real value to them was continuing the family line, and that's not going to happen if I'm unattractive and fat

the fact is I have been told my entire life that me being wanted was impossible, if anybody desired me they would keep it a secret out of fear of ridicule, and anybody who would be open about it must have a specific fetish or be using me

I want to be wanted, hell there are times I'm desperate to get catcalled, because that proves somebody finds me attractive enough to express that. (even if the reality of it is objectifying and rude) the basis of these sorts of fantasies are often rooted in being seen as so desirable, so wanted, that any and all restraint goes out of the window. (you know that romance trope line that's like, "are you sure? because once we start i don't know if i can stop." same idea) the tendency towards trafficking and sexual slavery are also rooted in this, but with the added bit of "see, somebody wants me so bad they will spend money on me, to own me. they will fuck me in a crowded room without shame because their desire for me isn't something they're ashamed about, i am a prize, and the fact they get to fuck me is something they will gloat about."

one of the major appeal of monsters is that they wouldn't be bogged down by our social expectations, or they would have ones of their own. there is no fear regarding being wanted despite my looks, because the things about myself I have been told make me unattractive, are things that they openly and voraciously desire. Also, for the fat folks in the chat, wanting to be picked up and tossed around by your partner is largely something we can't have, (BMI is bullshit but mine is nearly double what it "should" be) you don't have to worry about that if your partner is an 8+ foot tall creature that can suplex a sedan

so while in reality, me being stocky and fat is seen as something that makes me unattractive, a werewolf would look at me and go "ah, yes, broad as a brick wall and twice as thicc, he can take it in a tumble."

can you see where the overlap occurs?

obviously there are some generalizations and assumptions based on my own biases here, and everybody's got their peculiarities, but these are themes I have seen throughout my many years too many online

I also just think monster fucker spaces are a little more open to taboo kinks. like wanting to fuck a werewolf who could kill you at any second is already weirder than most people want to go. thank you for sharing your perspective anon.