I Don't Understand you pt. 2 || Tsukishima Kei Story

🍋Bible study🍋

Hey, this is Emma. No cringey note this time, just a bit of bragging. Yes, this is shorter than the other things I've written for this series. But I think that it's my masterpiece for this story. I don't think I can do better. Not because of the sex or whatever. It's the emotions, the imagery, how this can bring you to your knees if you immerse yourself in it. So, yeah. That's all. Cough, follow my Wattpad, @AnimeBoySimp

She hadn't wanted it to be like this, but now there was nothing that she could do about it. She didn't even know how they'd gotten in this situation. It was like he knew that something was wrong. Like he knew that she was depressed and hurting.

Somehow, he knew that she silently was begging for him to show up and make everything alright. And, God, she loved him so much for just knowing, but she didn't want this particular time to be the last time that they talked.

(Y/N) was a literal depressed mess. Like, she was content to just shove herself in a box and stay there until she suffocated. Tsukishima noticed that.

And now, he was trying so hard to convince her to stay when she never wanted to leave in the first place. She wanted to stay. She would rather be embarrassed by the sappiness that he spewed every once in a while than leave and possibly never see him again. Because, despite all of the things that she did, she did love him. She wanted to spend the rest of her life with him.

Even so, the method of which he wanted to use to convince her was interesting. To sum it up, he wanted to screw her brains out in the hopes of making her not want to go. Yes, that was making it even harder to find reasons to leave.

Tsukishima didn't even wait for a moment after she nodded with a shaky exhale to kiss her as if this was a cheesy romance movie (which it's not).

She was aware that every time that they were in this predicament, she found him to be more and more aggressive, but now he was just desperate. Purely and utterly desperate for her. No aggression, just passion. He wanted to make every second count, and appreciating that was something that she could do silently.

Chaste, gentle kisses weren't really (Y/N)'s favourite, she usually liked strong, hungry make-out sessions, if only because soft and sweet made her so embarrassed. But somehow, he knew that she just needed his warmth, his touch, and nothing else.

She was so out of it, drowning in him and the comfort that he brought, that she didn't even notice they'd made it into her room until he gently pushed her back onto her bed and climbed over her. He pressed loving kisses to her face and lips and neck and shoulders and still managed to leave her with hickies to spare. She loved that about him. He took care of her, but also made sure to show anyone that paid enough attention that she was his.

"I love you. I love you so goddamn fucking much. Why do you have to leave me when you make me so fucking happy?" he growled, fingers digging into her skin almost painfully.

She took a deep breath. "Just make love to me."

Tsukishima didn't bring the fact that she was leaving him up again for the rest of the time that they were having sex. In his mind, though, he kept repeating "Why is she leaving? Why would she leave?" over and over and over again. And as much as he wanted to take his anger out on something, he didn't want to hurt her. Punching a wall and punching her were two totally different things, and while he liked things rough, hurting her was against everything that he believed in.

They took their time, helping each other out of their clothing at a steady pace. (Y/N) felt her heart clench when they had, at last, shed the last of their clothes.

He latched onto her neck with his lips, hand lowering to push her leg out of the way. His fingers brushed against her as he licked her collar bone. Her eyes all but rolled back when he flicked her clit, fingers clutching the sheets. He tortured her nice and slow, pressing the pad of his thumb against the small bundle of nerves and making her squirm.