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hiraethwa · 6 days

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Sakusa Kiyoomi X Reader

CW: non-con, somnophilia, unprotected sex, creampie, grinding, public sex, implied voyeurism, getting caught, minor manga spoilers, sakusa is lowkey delulu

a/n: this was heavily inspired by a mista fic i read

Sakusa's skin crawled as he stared at the bus, a sense of dread rising in his throat. The vehicle loomed before him, its doors open like the maw of some great beast waiting to swallow him whole. Inside, two full teams from Itachiyama awaited, their bodies packed together in a claustrophobic nightmare due to a last-minute transportation issue.

As he stepped onto the bus, Sakusa's mind reeled at the thought of being trapped in such close quarters with so many people, each one a potential vector for illness. He had always prized his personal space, a carefully maintained barrier against the chaos of the outside world. Now, that barrier was about to be breached.

He should've just taken the train to their away games without batting an eye. Perhaps it was because he didn't want to be crammed into another vehicle with strangers, which seemed slightly worse than getting on a bus with people he actually knew. Or maybe a tiny part of him felt uneasy about leaving you, his precious little manager, in a bus full of hormonal and sweaty teenage boys.

Sakusa had sucked it up and gotten up extra early to secure a spot in the back of the bus, already claiming the corner seat as his own. By sunrise, the bus was filled to capacity, the vehicle swaying precariously from side to side. He was sure that the tires were probably inflated to their limits, ready to burst at any moment.

As the rest of the team filed in, Sakusa curled into himself, but you were nowhere to be seen. Were you not coming? Or were you sensible enough to find another way there instead of willingly entering this lion's den?

No, apparently not. You were just as reckless as always. Sakusa jolted slightly in his seat as you suddenly emerged from between two burly basketball players, yelping softly as the imbalance in your overloaded duffel bag caused you to stumble and fall.

Iizuna, ever the attentive captain, quickly helped you to your feet. He dusted you off and checked for any injuries, keeping you close by his side, practically nestled between his legs as everyone finally settled into their seats. It was going to be a long six-hour ride, and there was no way anyone would be left standing, no matter how cramped it got.

Iizuna glanced apologetically at Sakusa as he asked you to sit next to him, closer to the window. But upon realizing there was no space, Iizuna suggested you sit on his lap instead. In a flash, Sakusa reached out and pulled you in, his hands almost aggressively wrapping around your waist as he tugged you onto his own lap, leaving a dumbfounded Iizuna and the other third years staring in shock.

Beside him, Komori snickered, watching in amusement as you awkwardly adjusted yourself on Sakusa's lap, apologizing profusely as if you had committed some grave offense. Sakusa offered no verbal reassurance, instead silently guiding you to sit more comfortably between his legs as he spread them slightly to accommodate you.

Just as Sakusa was about to ask if you were comfortable, the bus lurched forward and began moving. At that moment, he heard the familiar chime of an incoming text message.

Pulling out his phone, Sakusa saw that Komori had sent him a single line: "Make a move on her."

Rolling his eyes, Sakusa shot his cousin a pointed glare before pocketing his phone again. Of course Komori would be aware of his not-so-subtle crush on their manager. After all, you were the only person aside from Komori that Sakusa allowed to touch him freely. He had even permitted you to feed him once, using the very same chopsticks you had just eaten with yourself.

Sakusa's mind wandered to the time he had gotten injured during practice. The team nurse had already gone home for the day, but luckily, you had the knowledge to tend to his type of injury. He vividly remembered how you looked kneeling between his legs, gently hiking up his shorts to press your fingers against the taut, sinewy muscles of his inner thigh.

He had felt his breath catch as you unknowingly leaned in closer, your exhales ghosting over his sensitive skin. Sakusa had to forcibly banish the less-than-pure thoughts from his mind, knowing that any physical reaction would be glaringly obvious given your proximity.

All the moments he had spent alone with you were precious to him. He treasured each and every one, locking them safely away in his heart. So of course he wanted to make a move, to let you know how much you meant to him.

But as he looked down at your peaceful, sleeping face, Sakusa had to stifle a sigh. Somehow, you had already dozed off, a cute habit of yours whenever you were in a moving vehicle with hours to go before reaching your destination. It was adorable, but at this particular moment, rather frustrating.

Gently tugging his mask down to rest below his nose, Sakusa leaned closer and protectively wrapped his arms around your middle. He held you securely against his chest, ensuring you wouldn't slip off as the bus jostled along the highway. Burying his nose in your hair, he breathed in deeply, the soft scent of lavender from your shampoo flooding his senses and awakening a primal urge deep within him.

Almost unconsciously, Sakusa's hands tightened their grip on you as he nuzzled further into your silky locks. His fingertips skimmed teasingly along the hem of your shirt, dancing just underneath the edge of your jacket. He knew that with the slightest movement, he could brush against the bare skin of your stomach.

The thought alone sent a thrill down his spine. Sakusa couldn't help but wonder if your skin was as soft and smooth as it looked. It had to be. Throwing caution to the wind, he finally slipped his fingers beneath the fabric, grazing them ever so lightly over the warm, supple flesh of your belly.

You shivered slightly in your sleep, your stomach dipping at the barest touch. So you were ticklish. That knowledge made Sakusa's heart swell with adoration. Fuck, could you be any cuter?

Emboldened, Sakusa continued to gently rub your lower abdomen, reveling in the velvety softness. As you relaxed further into his embrace, a hum of contentment rumbled deep in his chest.

Tightening his thighs on either side of you, Sakusa held you firmly in place, determined to savor this fleeting moment of intimacy. His fingers ceased their exploration, now simply brushing lazy circles over the enticing curves of your hips.

As the bus rolled on, Sakusa let himself get lost in the feeling of you in his arms. He knew he should probably feel guilty for indulging in this intimate touch without your knowledge, but the temptation was too great to resist. He had waited so long for a chance like this, to feel your softness under his hands, to breathe in your scent until it filled his lungs.

He promised himself that this stolen moment would be the catalyst he needed to finally confess his feelings for you. He would do it right, court you properly until you understood the depth of his affection. But for now, he would allow himself this one transgression, this fleeting glimpse of what could be.

As he held you close, your gentle exhales tickling his collarbone, Sakusa let himself dream of a future where you were his. His to hold, his to cherish, his to love. And with that sweet fantasy playing behind his closed eyelids, he drifted off to sleep, your name a whispered prayer on his lips.

The glaring sun pierced through the window beside him, rousing Sakusa from his slumber. Sweat drenched his body, causing his shirt to cling uncomfortably to his skin. A soft groan of annoyance escaped his lips as he registered the weight on his lap, only for his eyes to flutter open and realize it was you. With a gentle sigh, Sakusa attempted to adjust your position, but a sudden, muffled moan slipped out as he became acutely aware that something was terribly amiss.

Sakusa froze, his heart pounding frantically against his ribcage as the realization dawned on him - the incessant vibrations of the bus, combined with your warm, pliant body pressed intimately against his lap, had coaxed his treacherous body to stir in a most inconvenient manner.

Sakusa's breath caught in his throat, a heated flush creeping up his neck as he desperately willed his body to behave. The last thing he needed was for you to wake up and feel his shameful arousal pressing insistently against your ass.

Clenching his jaw, Sakusa tried to focus on anything else - the passing scenery, the low hum of the engine, the quiet chatter of his teammates. But every subtle shift of your weight, every gentle exhale that tickled his skin, only served to further stoke the embers of his desire.

He cursed silently, his fingers digging into your hips as he fought to maintain control. It was torture of the sweetest kind, having you so close, yet being unable to act on his longing. Sakusa knew he should wake you, put some distance between your bodies before the situation escalated, but a selfish part of him wanted to bask in your warmth just a little longer.

As if sensing his internal struggle, you stirred slightly, your head lolling to the side to rest in the crook of his neck. Your lips brushed against his heated skin, eliciting a shuddering gasp from Sakusa. He bit back a groan, his resolve crumbling with each passing second.

Sakusa swallowed thickly, his Adam's apple bobbing against the shell of your ear. He couldn't take it anymore, his cock throbbing painfully in the confines of his pants. If he didn't do something soon, he was going to lose his mind.

Taking a deep, steadying breath, Sakusa reluctantly untangled his fingers from your hips. He hesitated for a moment, steeling himself before carefully sliding his hand over your clothed pussy.

Sakusa's breath hitched as his fingers brushed over the damp material, his eyes widening in shock. Was this... for him?

Heat coursed through his veins, his head swimming with lust as he dared to apply a little more pressure. The lewd sound of his fingers dragging against your slick panties elicited a choked whimper from him, his cock twitching impatiently beneath you.

Sakusa couldn't believe what he was doing.

Touching you like this, even if you were asleep, was completely unacceptable. He should stop while he still could.

But when his fingers found your clit, circling the bundle of nerves with agonizing precision, you arched into him, your ass grinding down on his cock and sending sparks of pleasure coursing through his veins.

With a low growl, Sakusa tightened his hold on you, his other hand fumbling to reach his zipper. The metal teeth gave way easily, allowing him to tug the stiff material down, his leaking cock finally springing free.

A shuddering sigh of relief escaped his lips, the cool air of the bus doing little to quell the heat raging within him. He was painfully hard, the head of his cock already leaking precum.

With one final glance at your blissful, sleeping face, Sakusa lifted his hips, nudging his cock against your panty-clad core. His pulse was racing, his breaths coming in short, ragged pants as he teased the soaked fabric.

Unable to resist any longer, Sakusa pushed the soaked panties aside, the swollen head of his cock rubbing tortuously against your aching clit. You moaned softly, arching into him, your body instinctively seeking the pleasure he was so willing to give.

His chest heaved as he struggled to catch his breath, the anticipation almost unbearable.

Sakusa's cock throbbed insistently, his hips rocking slowly against your dripping cunt. The need to bury himself inside you, to feel your velvety walls clenching around him, was almost overwhelming.

He was so close, the tip of his cock poised at your entrance, ready to claim you as his. Just one push and he would be sheathed inside you, buried to the hilt. All he had to do was thrust his hips and you would finally be his.

The bus jerked, throwing you back against him, his cock sliding into your soaked cunt, and Sakusa groaned, his eyes rolling back as he felt your warm walls flutter around him. Fuck, you felt better than he had ever imagined.

With a shaky exhale, he sank deeper into your heat, his cock throbbing as you stretched to accommodate him. You felt like heaven, and Sakusa couldn't stop himself from thrusting his hips, his cock sliding in and out of your tight pussy.

Sakusa knew he should be gentle, take his time and savor every delicious inch of you. But the overwhelming desire to claim you, to mark you as his, overpowered any sense of restraint he may have had.

His grip on your waist tightened, his fingers digging into your soft flesh as he rutted into you, his cock massaging your aching cunt.

The air was thick with the heady scent of your arousal, the soft, subtle sound of your slick pussy being stretched by his cock filling the space between your bodies.

Sakusa's head fell back against the seat, his jaw clenched as he fucked into you, the coil of pleasure tightening in his gut. He was close, his balls tightening as he felt his orgasm rapidly approaching.

Just as he was about to pull out, his cock twitching with the promise of release, you came with a soft moan, your walls clamping down on him. With a strangled cry, Sakusa buried his face in your neck, his cock pulsing as he spilled himself inside you, painting your walls with his cum.

As the last waves of his orgasm washed over him, Sakusa let out a satisfied sigh, his body slumping against yours. You were still asleep, your soft breaths tickling his skin, and Sakusa couldn't help but smile, his heart swelling with affection.

He knew it was wrong, taking advantage of you like this. But the feeling of euphoria that came from being inside you, knowing that he had claimed you as his own, was worth any guilt that may come later.

As he basked in the afterglow of his release, Sakusa vowed to confess his feelings once he returned home. No matter what, he would make sure you were his, and his alone.

Sakusa's phone chimed again, abruptly pulling him from his reverie. Glancing down, he saw a new message from Komori: "That is not what I meant by making a move." Confused, Sakusa quirked an eyebrow and turned to his side, only to be met with Komori's appalled expression, though that did nothing to deter him from noticing the very prominent hard-on his cousin was sporting.

#fuck #sakusa kiyoomi #this is so wrong but i loved it too much

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hiraethwa · 7 days

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tugged at my heartstrings so much 😭

— in love and war cw alcohol, intoxication, reader has bad friends and a loving ex

oikawa’s already frowning when he pulls up next to you, hazard lights highlighting your face in blinking orange. the apples of your cheeks seem softer in this light, bunching together and causing your eyes to curve into happy crescents as his name tumbles easily from your lips.

“why are you by yourself?” oikawa demands as he nears you, outstretched hand meeting yours.

“‘m not,” you grin at the contact, letting yourself tiptoe closer to oikawa until you’re leaning against his chest. “my friends are over there,” you point up the road where oikawa can only just make out a gaggle of people, “see?”

a hand sits on your shoulder, heavy and grounding and serious. you look awfully pleased under its warmth. “why aren’t they with you?”

you look up at oikawa with a thoughtful hum, genuinely trying to remember as your brows furrow. “didn’t want to be with them,” you exhale, shrugging. your friends have never been as kind as they should be, you know oikawa doesn’t like them. you lighten up again, “’sides, was waiting for you.”

it feels like a punch to the stomach when oikawa shakes his head at you. and suddenly aching, you let him tug you back to his car and settle you in, having precariously parked in all his concern.

the drive back is quiet, nothing more than the mindless rattling of a late night radio host and the gentle purr of the engine. oikawa can feel you staring at him, trying to gage whether or not he’s mad at you.

the passing streetlights make your head swirl, a little dizzier than out in the street where fresh air filled your lungs. but you’re not alone now, and the leather seats of oikawa’s car are worn and familiar. your fingers run across the thick stitches and you use them as markers to count the flickers of orange that dance across oikawa’s face one by one. they make him look handsome, drawing long shadows across his sharp features and warming his eyes.

by the time oikawa’s pulled in, you’ve fallen asleep, chin tucked into your chest with your last thought being the driver beside you. it could’ve been worse, oikawa muses, you could’ve been sick.

he allows himself a moment. a sliver of peace to watch the way your chest rises and falls, air punctuated only by soft exhales. you really did look pretty, routine of dressing up for a night out long since perfected. oikawa can’t forget the way you’d shone when you’d caught sight of him. he leaves the car before the thought can stick any longer.

he’s only away for a split second, rounding the bonnet to get to you. the door opens and suddenly he’s surrounding you, leaning close to pull at the seatbelt, fresh linen and vanilla.

oikawa freezes when your fingers curl around his wrist. “i miss you,” you murmur. his heart stutters painfully.

you half think you’ve imagined the mumbled confession, oikawa continuing to work at the seatbelt until you’re free and easing yourself into his arms. you stumble a little as you get out the car, it’s ok, oikawa’s got you.

“let’s go inside first,” he finally responds, voice taut.

oikawa’s flat is just as you remember, down to every last detail. the framed picture of his high school volleyball club that greets you at the door, and the blue umbrella that he never remembers to take by the shoe rack. the slightly wonky kitchen cupboard door that houses mismatched mugs collected over the years, and the blanket you’d made together on the arm of the sofa, his fabric intertwined with yours. knowing it all like the back of your hand, you walk a familiar path to his room.

“i miss you,” you repeat, firmer this time as you perch on the end of his bed, trying hard not to get overwhelmed by the comfort of his sheets. it’s so much stronger here, fresh linen, vanilla and the faintest touch of the ocean air.

oikawa shuts his eyes, “you’re drunk.”

“i’m not,” it��s true, you’d sobered up quickly on the ride back, “i had a few drinks but i’m not drunk. i mean what i said, i swear i wouldn’t lie to you.” you wouldn’t be this coherent drunk. and under the effects of alcohol, you’d never approach such a serious topic as you and tooru like this. you both know that.

“i know you wouldn’t, but you’ve still drank, you wouldn’t be here if you hadn’t. and i can’t listen to you say you miss me when i can’t tell you how i feel in return, knowing your head’s all hazy and your judgement’s wrong.”

your fingers wind in oikawa’s sheets. “you don’t have to believe me right now, i’ll tell you in the morning and every day after if that’s what it takes. but you can tell me,” you urge, “you can tell me anything.”

the floodgates open.

“you can’t keep doing this. you can’t keep calling me and asking me to pick you up, because you know i will, you know i care,” oikawa’s voice is low, defeated, as it expels the truth, “it’s not fair.”

the wobble in his words makes your heart hurt and you rub at your chest, hoping the pressure will ease some of the pain. it doesn’t. instead, it comes out in your response, more unfair than anything, “i only ever call you, i only ever want you. and it’s the same reason why you still care.”

a call of your name shuts you up, sternness stopping you in your tracks. oikawa’s never once said your name like this, always honeyed and warm and fond. the ache swells.

you crawl into bed, pulling the covers up tight to your neck and trying to hide the glassiness in your eyes. you wouldn’t cry, you couldn’t cry. oikawa was right, it wasn’t fair. because you had broken things off, you hadn’t been able to deal with the drowning comfort of oikawa’s love, and yet, you were the one calling him when you needed someone to rely on. each and every time. “’m sorry,” you whisper, the thickness in your voice comes through anyway.

“i know,” oikawa sighs, tucking in next to you, one hand around your waist and the other running through your hair, the position you’ve always liked, “i’m sorry too.”

when oikawa wakes in the morning, the glass he left on the bedside table is empty and a single painkiller has been punched out of the foil packet. the bed too is cold, a collection of wrinkled sheets and pooling blankets. your presence in the room is barely there, only evident by a trail of absences.

oikawa curls up, bed suddenly too big, too lonely, as he tugs the duvet up and over his head. he lies there for a long time, a lump as he reprimands himself. it was true, what he said last night - this wasn’t fair, he couldn’t keep doing this routine. and yet, he couldn’t do anything but care for you, its like he was programmed to. you can’t keep waiting forever, his brain commands and the twinge in his heart pulls his knees closer to his chest.

“oikawa?” the gentle call of his name forces him out from his mind and underneath the covers. his head pokes out from the duvet, brown hair messy and eyes bleary. you notice the downturn of his lips first at the sound of his surname on your tongue. it seems clunky, awkward.

your stomach churns and your hands grip cruelly at the cup inbetween your hands. it’s coffee, half milk with two heaps of sugar and caramel syrup. not the way you like it at all. you hold it out and oikawa’s kind not to mention the tiny tremble of your arms. “if you’ll let me, i owe you something,” you pause, “i miss you, tooru.”

tooru beams. not forever at all.

#oikawa tooru

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hiraethwa · 7 days

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swooning ੈ✩‧₊˚ semi eita

you're not sure whether it's a blessing or a curse to be the only witness of semi's charming side; being treated like royalty all while falling victim to his antics and yet, you never really try to stop him.

w.c: 0.8

you feel so silly when you catch your breath hitching due to having your shoes tied by someone else.

it's not like it's the first time. you vaguely remember fragments of childhood memories where you needed someone else to tie your tiny shoes while you still hadn't learned how to do it yourself. once or twice or so, you've had to ask a friend to hook the loosened strings of old sneakers, probably because your hands were too full to do it. of course it has happened before.

it’s just that it’s, for some reason, a lot more intimate if it's eita.

your fingers feel clammy around the edge of the chair you’re seated in. stood in the hallway and ready to head out, you had bent down just a few moments ago to tie your shoes, just for your hands to be gently swatted away by a pair of others.

“you know, i can do it myself.”

semi doesn’t look up at you from where he’s sitting on a knee in front of you, but you can make out the small curve of a growing smile as he breathes out a chuckle. “you can,” he says softly, although there’s something playful lacing his voice, “but what kind of boyfriend would i be to not do it for you?”

“semi, it’s just some sho–”

your words fall short, replaced by your breath getting stuck in your throat when you feel his lips graze your knee. you catch the slight force of the final knot but before semi reaches for the other shoe, he grazes the tip of his nose against the skin and once again, you feel the tingling traces left by his lips.

under the dim lights, his ears are graced by various shining piercings. you’re greeted by the fluff ash gray hair and you have to fight the urge to touch it, not needing to leave it more disheveled than it’s already been purposely styled for the upcoming event of the night. he tilts his head back, just slightly, enough for his eyes to peek up at you past the messy strands. the fall half-lidded at the same time as he flashes you a smile, one you barely can see as he’s busy pressing another kiss to your knee, a bit further up this time.

you feel so silly, being this nervous by such simple actions, but it’s the mere fact that it’s semi tying your shoes this time that’s making you oddly nervous.

“my angel got so dressed up and pretty just to come to one of my band’s gigs,” semi gently hums. “the least i can do is to treat you the way you deserve to be treated.”

so serious and stoic, at times even hotheaded and competitive—you got that confirmed as early as the first volleyball game you watched shortly after getting to know semi—yet ever so gentle and kind in the purest forms of the words; you’re certain that’s how everyone from his former teammates, to his current band members, to his friends perceive. they’re not wrong. far from such, but it sometimes makes you wonder how many of them, if any at all, are familiar with this side of him, the rather assertive and impish side that has your heart racing abnormally fast by the most simple of gestures. maybe any of his previous partners? you’re surprised to find yourself not feeling remotely bothered or jealous at the image, because somewhere you’re sure you’re the only one who has gotten this privilege (or curse, take it as you may).

“eita, we’re gonna be late…” you mumble into the peaceful coziness of your home, poking the cheek that wasn't resting on your leg.

semi laughs again, before sighing in defeat and returning his full focus on the other shoe. without tearing his eyes away from the strings around his fingers, he speaks, "you look stunning tonight – trying to steal the spotlight away from me?"

"oh, hush," you scoff, although making him chuckle when he can almost hear the smile you're responding with.

tying the final knot, semi settles one last kiss to your knee. he pushes himself up from his own, but stops eye-level to you. his palm finds your cheek, cradling, caressing it oh so lovingly.

you feel less silly when he leans closer, because you simply cannot be blamed for feeling the flutter in your chest as your lips lock with his – a brief touch, but it carries every bit of affection he holds for you, and you hold for him.

"alright, let's go." semi pulls back and flashes you a wide grin, "can't get late to showing you off."

this makes you laugh, even as he holds your hand to swiftly pull you up on your feet, "i thought we were going there for your live?"

"i have my priorities."

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hiraethwa · 9 days

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𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤.

summary: “𝐭𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭, 𝐬𝐡𝐞’𝐬 𝐬𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐬𝐟𝐢𝐞𝐝. 𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬, 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐰𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤.” warnings: 18+ only, minors do not interact! | fem!reader, aged up!haikyu verse (karasuno is a university), raw piv sex, d/s dynamics (dom!kageyama, sub!reader), teasing, praise— he talks a lot in this lol, possessiveness, porn with a hint of plot names used: angel, good girl, baby, tutor, word count: 2.2k a/n: oh boy, this one really got away from me in a lot of ways. i had the idea that we’d just follow tobio and reader on their first tutoring session and it’d be some sort of hot, sweet encounter but the idea of immediately jumping into things was too fun to let go. plus, it gave me an excuse to skip the whole "getting to know tobio" bit and save some time. i still may do the first encounter if people are interested but yeah— have fun! also if someone knows who made the banner above please let me know so i can tag them! pinterest was no help in finding the owner (¬_¬)

You whine as he thrusts deep inside you again, the loud squelch filling the small study room obscenely as he bends you over the table. “T-Tobio, fuck.” The table creaks in time with his thrusts, and you feel your cheeks heat as you hear the noise.

He grunts as he hears the sweet noises you make and grips your hips so hard you know there’ll be bruises the next day. “I know, angel. I know I’m big. Just, fuck�� just take it, okay?” He mutters, voice husky and dripping with his evident arousal. He groans as he feels you twitch around him, your already tight heat gripping him even more, and has to bite a knuckle to make sure he doesn’t fucking cum instantly.

He loves this moment, when you go from the strict tutor making sure he’s on top of his essays for this goddamn course, to his sweet toy. If he knew tutoring with you would be like this, he would’ve begged you long ago.

He leans forward, taking your hair in one hand and circling your neck with his other, and yanks you up to whisper into your ear, “Christ, you are just so reactive, aren’t you? So good at taking my cock. You’re such a good girl for me, for letting me have this. Fuck,” His voice is laced with a mix of adoration and hunger as he watches you with a keen eye, drawing back to fuck into you with deep, hard strokes. "So sweet for letting me fuck this tight, wet pussy," he drawls as he times his thrusts to punctuate his words.

He knew you well enough to realize that you rarely let yourself be vulnerable with anyone, let alone this exposed, gasping and moaning as he drives his cock in and out of you. It’s what attracted him to you to begin with and called him to sit beside you the first day he walked into that lecture hall. He knew the feeling too well and, ever since you agreed to be his tutor, he was determined to wring out every last aching drop of vulnerability from you.

Another whine escapes you as he runs his teeth over the shell of your ear. He’s fucking you in earnest now, the room feeling impossibly hot as the only sounds that you can register are of skin slapping on skin, his growled words, and your whimpers. You tighten around him as he hits a particular spot relentlessly, forcing out needy moans from you, and he chuckles.

"You're gonna cum, aren't you?" He grunts, his voice low and rough as he keeps his pace. "You're so, fuck," He's cut off as you clench around him again, his voice drawing out the reaction from your body almost instinctively. "So fucking cute. Such a good tutor. Such a good fucking girl," He mutters, the pleased undertone clear as he grips your hips again and watches you claw at the table as you careen toward your orgasm.

"Want you moaning my fucking name when you cum," He says, slow and deliberate, as he hits the same spot repeatedly. "Want the people outside this building to know my name by the time I'm done with you, angel," He rasps as he slaps your ass, the sharp sting only bringing you closer to the edge.

"Fuck, fuck— Tobio," You mewl, your voice ragged and pathetic, and it makes him chuckle. "Tobio, 'm gonna cum, fuck. Tobio, please!" You beg, and he smiles, pleased with your desperation.

"Aw, asking for permission? That's so sweet. We haven't even talked about that yet. I guess you just love it when I use you like this, huh?" He coos, his voice dripping with condescension, and he doesn't let up his pace as you stay on the edge— so close to teetering over.

He hums. "I guess you have been a good girl and helped me get my grades up. Tell me, princess, do you think you deserve to cum on my cock?" He asks, leaning into the control you've so effortlessly given him. It pisses you off how put together he still sounds.

"Y-Yes, please," You cry, babbling nonsense as he keeps you still. "Please, please, Tobio," you beg, desperate and aching for release as he circles your clit with one hand. Your body's on fire, and your legs start to shake from holding back. "Please," you whisper.

"Shh, shh, it's okay, angel," He says, his satisfaction leaking from his words. "It's okay." He lowers himself down, chest flush with your back, "You can cum. Go ahead. You can do that for me, right?" He whispers as he sucks a mark into your neck.

Your legs nearly give out from the relief you feel hearing him permit you to cum, gasping as your eyes flutter and your orgasm tears through you, "Fuck! Oh my fucking god."

He groans as he feels you clench around him, muttering your name as he fucks you through your orgasm steadily. He turns your head so he can kiss you; the feel of his tongue searing into you is intoxicating even in the state you're in, and you sigh. He pulls away only slightly and chuckles, "Not god, angel. Tobio. You know the rules. You need to say my name, or I'll stop fucking you."

You repeat his name as the aftershocks of the orgasm ripple through you, and he responds with a pleased hum. You whine as he pulls out of you before flipping you over onto the table, his eyes raking over your body as if it were the first and last time he'd ever get to see you like this. He strokes himself in front of you, a cocky smirk tracing its way across his face as he lines himself up with you again, the head of his cock teasing your throbbing clit. "Aw, it's okay, angel. Here, I'll put it back in since you're so needy for it," he grunts as he shoves himself inside you again, savouring the mewl you let out as he hits an even deeper spot inside you.

It’s been a few weeks of this since Tobio begged you to tutor him. At first, you weren’t too sure about helping him since you only knew him as your constantly late-for-class desk mate, but the way his voice sounded, the set of his eyebrows, and the intensity of his gaze on you as he asked convinced you otherwise.

It started innocently enough with the two of you meeting for late-night sessions to accommodate his hectic volleyball schedule. It took a lot of work to convince the library to let you book a room so late when no other staff would be present to supervise, but your reputation as a stellar student helped secure a study room.

For the first few weeks, it was standard tutoring, all above board (and above the belt), but you could tell he was getting bored doing the same routine over and over: readings, summary, thesis development, and essay writing. You felt bad for him, knowing he was already outside his comfort zone, and wanted to find a way to make things more exciting.

“Tobio, I was thinking,” You propose one night. “Maybe we should integrate some sort of reward system. You’ve been keeping up the past few weeks, but I want to help you do well in this class— not just scrape by. What do you think would motivate you?” You ask, cocking your head to the side as you sit beside him.

You knew you were in trouble when his face went from his usual stern expression to a sly grin. “Well, now that you mention it…” He starts, gauging your expressions as he proposes a kiss each time he gets above 80% on his essays. He relishes how your eyes widen slightly, noting the immediate blush on your cheeks as you stutter beneath his gaze.

“I-I don’t—” You start to say, but he cuts you off.

“You don’t think I notice the way you look at me? How you stare at my hands when I’m writing something?” He taunts, a smirk resting on his face.

He leans in closer, your breaths mingling from your proximity, and you can smell his cologne mixed with the scent of his skin—warm and inviting, unlike his calculating image. “You mean to tell me you haven’t noticed how I look at you?” he whispers, his eyes challenging you to deny the simple fact that you were both attracted to each other.

He brushes a stray strand of your hair, and you shiver as he says your name, low and steady. “You can’t lie to me. I can read you like a book,” he murmurs, his eyes filled with equal parts desire and adoration.

That’s how you ended up in this situation week after week, gasping and groaning underneath him. His grades, to your absolute delight and his sly satisfaction, have taken a sharp turn and improved—so much that even your professor commended the two of you for your “steadfast partnership.”

He holds your face with one hand while keeping your legs spread with the other, calling you back to the moment. “Is my baby already fucked out of her mind? C’mon, angel,” he murmurs, eyeing the blooming mark on your neck as he thrusts into you even deeper as if punctuating his statement. “Can’t get cockdrunk already, precious girl. I’m not nearly done with you yet," he says as he leans in close and sucks another mark on your neck above the first one, and his eyes gleam with satisfaction as you roll your head to the side to give him better access.

He pulls back with a muttered "Good girl," as he trails the hand that was on your face down to your chest, palming at the soft flesh there and pinching your hardened nipples before snaking his hand underneath your shirt, hissing as he grabs handfuls of you. “Fuck,” he groans. “You feel so fucking good in my hands.”

He pushes the shirt up and over you, throwing it to the side where he threw your skirt earlier, as he undresses you completely. "So pretty, angel. Such a pretty girl. All for me, right?" He asks though it doesn't sound like a question as his eyes flutter.

You nod, "Y-Yes, Tobio. All for you, only for you," and, fuck, if that doesn't just get him so fucking close. The way you're lying down, spread open for him, repeating that you're only his and his alone, makes him fold your legs up to your chest as he plows into you even deeper.

"Fuck, yes. Only for me, always," he grunts, his cock moving in and out of you mercilessly as he chases his own high. "Tell me again, angel, fuck— tell me you want me to cum inside of you," he says, voice hoarse with need as his hips start to stutter.

"Yes, please, Tobio. Want you, only you. Want you to cum inside of me, please? I need it deep inside of me so bad," You whine helplessly as he circles your clit again, the overstimulation causing you to shake beneath him as he forces you to the edge with him.

"Such a good girl," he whispers, and you can tell he's close. "Such a good fucking girl. You're gonna cum for me again," he says, demanding another orgasm from you. "You're gonna cum then I'm gonna pump you full of my cum, you understand me?" he asks as his thrusts become more erratic, fingers circling you even faster.

You nod, breathless, as you feel yourself get close again, and you grip onto him as you cum, back arching off of the table as you hear him groan your name from above. He thrusts one last time, deep and hard as he cums, holding you still and open as you shiver feeling his warmth seep into you.

He kisses you softly then, his hand cradling your face like it's the most precious thing in the world and your heart flutters despite your blissed-out state. He takes a deep breath before pulling away, touching your forehead with his, "You did so well. Such a good girl for me for taking that so well. Are you okay? How are you feeling?"

You hum as you run your hand through his hair, the afterglow hitting you hard. "'m great, Tobio, don't worry. You didn't go too hard or anything. I told you, I'd tell you if it was too much," you reply, watching as his eyes relax with relief.

"I know, I know," he murmurs, placing soft kisses on your lips. "Just.. I can get carried away. I can be too intense sometimes," he admits as he pulls out of you and helps you get dressed, his hands so gentle and delicate with you now.

You snort, "Sometimes? Try all the time, Kageyama." You tease him, and he can't help but laugh with you.

"Alright, alright, all the time," he concedes, picking up the scattered pens, pencils, and notebooks on the ground before placing them on the table.

He watches you keenly as you sit beside him, shivering still from what's just happened, and smiles as he puts an arm over your shoulders and hugs you close to him. He kisses your forehead with a satisfied hum.

"So that's my reward for getting 100%, huh?"

likes and reblogs are appreciated! ♡

#kageyama tobio #my love

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hiraethwa · 12 days

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“She My Best Friend, Yeah We Not a Couple.”

Synopsis. You know it’s wrong to fuck your best friend. But how can you complain when you’re slammed against the library desk and stuffed full of his big cock like this?

Pairing. Multiple x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, unprotected sex, panties in your mouth (+ some other very heinous things), really fucking dirty, public sex, jealous sex (from his side), pet names (my angel), swearing.

Word count. 1.3k

A/N. My ancestors are prolly so proud of me rn. Art by @_3em on X.

“Best friend” his ass.

It’s laughable really - the way those other losers think they have a chance with you when you’re begging for his dick every night.

He’s known you since you were both whiney, snot-faced brats - and right now he’s got you sitting prettily on his lap in a study room tucked on the campus library. Your needy mewls are muffled into the crook of his neck as he holds you steady by your hips, the length of his achingly hard cock nudging the line of your ass.

Panties hastily pulled to the side, your slick pools on his flushed tip, dripping along his length to his tight balls. Pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses along your racing pulse, he drags his hefty erection teasingly along your dripping folds.

God, he could feel the way your pussy was clenching desperately around nothing and it was driving him insane.

Surely that study buddy of yours could wait a few minutes. Who did that scrub even think he was? Eyeing his pretty lil’ best friend like that.

“Hngh- please, I want-.” you whisper into his ear, the heat of your breath sending blood rushing straight to his already rock-hard cock. Your needy whimpers are cut off as he subconsciously thrusts in-between your swollen folds, juices making the prominent veins along his length glisten.

Fuck, this was getting too much for him too.

“Tell me what you want, my angel.” he leans down to murmur raspily in your ear, sending a trail of goosebumps down your spine. You were so fucking hot.

That scrub couldn’t even imagine this. How perfect you were. How wet you were for him. How lustful your voice is as you sinfully whine, “I want your cock in me so badly. Want you to fuck me right here. Right now.”

With lightning speed, he’s got you bent against the cold surface of the library desk, painfully hard cock throbbing under the thin material of your panties. You gasp as his length grinds against your quivering cunt.

Having you splayed out so sinfully for him, he’s never been more thankful that the old librarian was such a heavy sleeper - probably wouldn’t wake up for a stampede of elephants if it happened.

“This shit is getting in my fucking way.” he groans out as a large hand grabs your soaked panties.

A sharp rip! of fabric sounds throughout the still air of the study room. “Much better.” he grins dangerously, harshly groping every inch of skin now laid completely bare for him.

“Please. Put it in.” you mewl, voice dripping with need for him. Fuck, he’ll never get used to this.

“Shhh, my angel.” with a low hiss, he bullies his thick cock into your dripping cunt.

“God. S’tight, so tight. Pussy so desperate for me hah- sucking me back in. She doesn’t want me to leave, huh?” he grits out through strangled moans as he sheaths himself completely into your wet pussy. Shit, at this point they’ll hear him and not you.

Warm walls squeezing him to insanity, he fucks you at a feral pace, pulling out till his tip teases your dripping entrance, only to ram himself fully inside once more.

“Ah! Hngh- It’s too much. Please!”

He would never get to know the feeling of your snug cunt desperately sucking his cock back in every time he rams into you. He would never get to feel the way your walls clamp down on him, struggling to adjust to the burning stretch of his thick cock. He could never make you feel this good.

That loser probably has a small dick anyway.

He drinks in the pornographic ah! ah! ah! leaving your mouth at each harsh thrust, feeling intoxicated off the animalistic cadence of his hips, and the thick white ring of slick forming at his base.

“Shit. Always so good f’me, my angel.” he groans, your pretty moans only making him thrust impossibly deeper in a way that has you scrambling to hold onto the table for support.

His throaty groans and the merciless slapping of his heavy balls against your ass echoes across the room as his fingers dig deep purple marks into your hips.

“S-someone’s gonna hah- hear-”

“Then we must be quiet, hm?”

Before you have a chance to process what’s happening, the wet panties that were tightly gripped in his hand are now stuffed into your mouth. You moan around the large fingers forcing themselves inside, cold rings stretching your mouth as much as your cunt.

His cock twitches as he forces you to taste yourself, feeling you getting impossibly wetter. That’s his girl.

He could never fuck you like this.

Moans now muffled by the fabric in your mouth, his saliva-coated fingers move down to draw rough circles on your clit - making you yelp at the stimulation.

He knows someone could walk in at any moment - and a part of him actually wants it to happen. Let them see, he thinks. At least then those fuckers would finally take a hint.

A soft whine of his name snaps him out of his pussy-drunk thoughts, blown-out eyes now meeting your dazed ones as you lock eyes with him over your shoulder. Lipstick smeared, tears clinging to your lashes, and panties half-hanging out of your kiss-bitten lips.

Ah, actually scratch that - he’s gonna keep his pretty lil’ best friend all to himself.

“Shhh, my angel. I’ve got you.” he towers over you, pressing a trail of kisses up the curve of your spine before angling your neck to attach his lips with yours. He delights in your surprised squeal, clearly not expecting him to kiss you with your panties still in your mouth. But for you, he’d do anything.

Cock twitching, your feet almost lift off the ground as the rhythm of his hips gets harsher. He intertwines his tongue with yours, sweet slick-soaked panties wrapped in the middle. Fuck, he was going insane at the contrast of your soft tongue with the lacy fabric of your panties, hand around your neck getting tighter.

You moan incoherently as he sucks on your tongue, drool dripping down the corner of your mouth and onto the polished library desk.

It was so fucking lewd. Doesn’t matter how many losers swarm around you - none of them deserved you. None of them could fuck you like this.

Your sounds of pleasure get more and more frantic as his cock still slams inside you relentlessly, ringed-fingers continuing their abuse on your clit - getting closer and closer to what you crave.

He can feel the way your walls flutter so snugly around him. God, he’s so fucking turned on that he doesn’t know whether the heartbeat he feels between his legs is his or yours.

Neither of you have to wait long. His tongue still continues its dance with yours, around your soaked panties, as you both cum with a muffled moan.

Your pussy clenches around him as you climax him as if to milk his cock for all he’s worth. And you do, thick ropes of his hot cum painting your pulsing hole white.

Riding out both your highs, he fucks his cum into you animalistically - feet lifting off the floor at his firm grip on your waist and the sheer power of his rough thrusts.

So messy. Damn, he has to send the librarian an apology gift later - a fruit basket or something, he wonders, barely lucidly.

His mind is still foggy as he pulls his sensitive cock out, and pockets your panties for a lonely night without his dear best friend. Promptly plugging his fingers in your quivering pussy, cum smearing on his fingers, he mutters out a quick “Keep it inside.”

Walking out of the heavy, sex-filled atmosphere of the study room, he bumps into that fucking study buddy of yours - running late and clearly surprised to see him there.

With a slow smirk, “Sorry in advance, my girl made a bit of a mess in there. Hope you don’t mind.”

Hey, this is what best friends are for, right?

- GOJO, GETO, Choso, Tsukishima, ATSUMU, SUNA, Oikawa, Kuroo, EREN, Armin

A/N. Teehee *blushes like a slut*

Longfic Sunday incoming if I manage to write 6k words by tomorrow.

Plagiarism not authorized.

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hiraethwa · 15 days

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one summer day update: i’m so sorry it’s been over a month since i last updated but the next part is not coming out right and i don’t want to post work that is not the best i can do 😅 i will try to finish it as soon as possible! thank you for your patience

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hiraethwa · 17 days

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Custom action figure gift for HQ partners

Racy remarks, but no smut. Gender-neutral reader.

Aone

Weekend mornings meant Aone could putter around on the patio, tending to his plants. He was even taller than he had been in high school, his shoulders broader. However, his job as a construction worker and his volleyball club's activities kept him light on his feet as he maneuvered around all the potted plants. The morning sun lit his blond hair, and his silhouette was peaceful.

It was the morning after you had hosted a casual get-together with former Date-Ko classmates. It wasn't long after New Year's, so your home held the vestiges of kuri kinton you had prepared for Aone and his friends. You would also still hear the group's laughter when Koganegawa and Futakuchi brought out their custom action figures. The Angry Bird setter was actually well represented in his uniform. It was Futakuchi's representation that provoked hoots of derision in Kamaski and Moniwa.

Aone meant to support Futakuchi when he commented, "Don't worry, it looks just like you," but he only set off more laughter to Futakuchi's chagrin.

Little did the group know you had an action figure for Aone hidden in your closet in the next room. You got the information through Tendou rather than Date-Ko alumni; Futakuchi and Koganegawa could not keep a secret for their lives. As for Tendou, you're not exactly sure how you were added to his social media, since you had never met him. But the Parisian was very helpful and promised discretion, as long as you promised to send him a photo of Aone with his gift.

Aone had finished taking care of his plants, then he methodically cleaned the turtle tank and refreshed the filter. He let his pet turtle Kamekichi crawl around the patio floor while he performed this task. Once the tank was spruced up, Aone carefully sat down with criss-crossed legs to share some colourful vegetables with the reptile.

It was a picture of mornings like this one that you had sent to the company for the action figure. You almost ordered one with his current team's volleyball uniform. He looked so sharp in it.

However, THIS was the Aone you adored. He wasn't very verbally expressive, yet his care with all his actions, the gentleness he exhibited to his plants and Kamekichi, and his shy affection with you were the traits that defined his personality. He had an innate kindness that shone through. Despite his intimidating visage, he never threatened or mocked anyone. He did light repairs for neighboring homes, helped the elderly and pregnant people with heavy lifting, stopped to fix flat tires for aggrieved motorists, and babysat his older siblings' children.

Your precious polar bear cocked his ear when you called his name. Because Aone was so quiet, you had adjusted your volume so that you spoke softly to him. It created a strong sense of intimacy between you.

"I got you something that relates to something the gang talked about last night," you smiled and extended his gift to him.

He cautiously arose with Kamekichi in his hand, and sat at the dining table. His eyes had a faraway look as he tried to recall the discussions from the previous evening. He glanced at the box dimensions, and quickly glanced up at you when he realized what it might contain.

His big hands delicately unwrapped the box and lifted out his figure. It wore Aone's customary blue samue. and Kamekichi was cradled in his hand. You managed to capture a rare small smile and soft gaze.

Aone turned his toy over and tested all the moving parts. He caressed tiny Kamekichi, and brought it closer to his turtle to view. His face was a picture of wonder, and you patiently waited for him to speak. Many people believed Aone didn't communicate anything with his silences, but his loved ones knew better. His friends recognized when he expressed tacit approval, caution, surprise, or concern, based on his posture or intakes of breath.

He laid down Mini Takanobu next to his turtle, and turned to you. You enfolded him in your arms.

"Thank you," he mumbled, melting into your frame.

Oh, yeah, this is why you fell in love with him every day.

Back to Master List

#aone takanobu

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hiraethwa · 19 days

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six degrees of separation

Kuroo Tetsurou x gn reader | six-part mini series | (TAGLIST OPEN)

⎯ exes to enemies to lovers? | fluff, angst

⎯ no major warnings, just parenting stuff but it's not your baby, side character death, minimal miscommunication but not too much, because I also get frustrated with that

𓆩♡𓆪 synopsis┆When a mutual friend tragically dies in an accident. You and Kuroo Tetsurou were forced back into each other's lives, to take care of the baby your friend has left. Unaware that you broke up months ago, you're both faced with the challenge of becoming foster parents as ex-lovers.

MAIN MASTERLIST

[first], you think the worst is a broken heart

what's gonna kill you is the [second] part

[third], is when your world splits down the middle

[fourth], you're gonna think that you fixed yourself

[fifth], you see them out with someone else

[sixth], is when you admit that you may have fucked up a little

taglist:

#kuroo tetsurou

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hiraethwa · 1 month

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fuck, wakatoshi thinks as he wakes up to you being pressed into him so closely. he is painfully aware of the throbbing hard on that you were grinding on in your slumber, and he knows you are asleep from the way you just twitched against him seconds ago.

he would hate to wake you up from your deep sleep, but he couldn't stop himself as his fingers wander between your thighs. and much to his surprise, he finds no barriers between him and the slickness of your folds. fuck.

he remembers the last time he sneaked off to the bathroom to handle his problem when you were asleep. you had gotten angry at him for not waking you up when you found out that he had been doing that frequently.

"the only place you are cumming in or on is me." you had scowled at him. it had left him shocked, to say the least. his sweet girl who loves cute cafe dates and flowers. never had he expected you to be freakier than him.

he woke you up the next morning by working his hips into you, unbelievably turned on by your demand for him to use you for his own pleasure even in your sleep.

and now... fuck, were you having a wet dream? his fingers slipped into you easily with your wetness coating them. wakatoshi lets out a small groan as he stretches you out with two of his thick digits, realizing that you didn't need much preparation at all with how wet and ready you are for him.

his boxers are quickly discarded. your juices coating him as he pumps himself with the same hand that just touched you. he shakily guides himself between your lips, pushing into you as gently as he could in the haze of lust.

fuck. wakatoshi curses at how tightly your walls are gripping onto him. a moan spills from his lips as he buries his head into the crook of your neck, strong hands holding onto your hips that are sure to leave bruises later.

you stir, drowsy eyes slowly blinking awake as your sleep is interrupted by ushijima’s movements. the glint that appears in them as you realize that your man is using you for his own relief, any semblance of dignity leaving you with your hips wiggling down against his to take as much of him as you possible could.

“good morning baby” his husky voice blazes your burning fervor, a whine escaping your lips as your grind against him.

his fingers wrap around your throat, easily encasing you, and he gives you what you want. his other hand still holding onto your hip as he thrusts into you deeply at an increasing pace.

“is this what you asked for?” he lovingly strokes your cheek and looks into your eyes, all while continuing to fuck you silly. you make an incoherent noise, relinquishing any control to ushijima.

safe to say, you haven't gotten angry at him for that since then.

a/n whew that was intense!! i love y’all <3 welcome to suffering with me

#haikyuu smut #haikyu smut #ushijima wakatoshi #ushijima smut #ushijima wakatoshi smut #ushijima x reader #ushijima x you #haikyuu #ushijima x y/n #ushijima

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hiraethwa · 1 month

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one summer day

07 sun and moon. where you plan a surprise for ushijima’s birthday with the help of his teammates

<< 06 saturn ii. | >> 08 (coming soon) | << the collection >>

pairing: ushijima wakatoshi x reader a/n: as inspired by “i promised myself i would never fall in love but it was 4am and we were laughing way too hard and i felt happy for the first time in a long time" this one got a little out of hand hahaha :) hope you enjoy a cute slice of life chapter after all that angst from saturn parts i and ii - ave word count: 2.8k warnings: cursing, falling in love tags: @lemurzsquad -- (inbox me if you want to be added to the tag list)

august, second year

you hope that the boys did a good job of keeping your plan under wraps as you signaled to semi in the volleyball gym,. it’s summer break, and you had baked ushijima’s favorite cake as a surprise for his birthday. you have been planning this since the break started, coordinating with the boys on the team to celebrate his birthday.

you stay hidden from his sight outside the doors, watching as tendo claps his hands twice to get the team’s attention, counting to three before they launch into a terrible rendition of the birthday song. it physically hurts you to hear the out of tune and unsynchronized singing, but you make your feet move forward.

the candles on cake flicker as you step into the building, joining in to the singing as best you can. ushijima turns around to find you smiling sweetly at him, dressed in a white summer dress that falls to your knees, as if he heard you among the sea of voices.

there is surprise in the way his eyes slightly widened, lips parting. he did not see this coming, you note with a strange sense of satisfaction, feeling a song coursing through your body.

you stop in front of him, lifting the cake for him to blow the candles out. “happy birthday, toshi” you have been using that shortened version of his name for him lately, preferring the way it sounds. what you didn’t know though, was that the team has been giving him grief about you doing it, teasing him to no end when you were not around despite his repeated rejections of claims that the two of you were dating.

a wide smile graces your lips as you soak in the way he stares back and forth at you and the cake before closing his eyes for what only felt like seconds, making a wish. you watch as his tongue darts across his lips before he puts out the candles in one breath.

you hand over the cake to one of the first years, as ushijima thanks the team for the surprise and orders them back to practice in his captain voice. the third years had chosen him to lead the team, leaving shortly after they were done with interhigh nationals to focus on preparing for university entrance examinations.

you know how significant it was for him to be chosen as captain. how he valued being relied upon by his teammates to see them through to victory. he aspired to be the dependable ace, and now he is.

you place a hand on his arm, stopping them from resuming practice. it was evening now, and definitely time for dinner. you have a reservation booked at a restaurant in town, and have made the necessary arrangements for the team to be able to attend it.

“coach gave you all time off tonight,” you announce, enjoying the various looks of surprise and respect on their faces except ushijima, who looks like he saw this coming. “c’mon, we have a dinner reservation in thirty minutes.”

they stand frozen in place, before one of the first years, shirabu, breaks the silence. “how did you do that? coach is so strict, he never lets us slack off at practice.”

you laugh, noting how they felt comfortable to address you now, a far cry from the beginning of the school year when they were too afraid to approach you whenever you visited your friends at practice. “that’s because i’m coach’s favorite,” you wink at the setter, sending him into a blushing fit.

though the coach seemed hard to get along with, he had taken a liking to you after you brought him homemade food on a few occasions to bribe him into letting you stay and watch the matches. despite the mean facade he wears, he was always kind when he interacted with you.

you remember him taking a look between you and ushijima back in may, having noticed how you two seemed to appear together and how you stood closer than normal friends would, elbows touching and how only ushijima got packed bentos from you, and bluntly asked if you were dating.

you had looked at ushijima, meeting his eyes and immediately looked away, heat burning your face all the way to the tip of your ears. and the two of you had denied it so quick and loudly that it caught the attention of the shiratorizawa players who were in the middle of a match. the spike the opponents sent back caught your team off guard, hitting soekawa in the back of his head and scoring the match point.

coach had made them do a hundred serves each as penalty after the visiting college team left.

sometimes you wonder if ushijima has told him anything about you to make him treat you so kindly. sometimes when you sat next to him at matches, helping him record the plays since they did not have a manager, and he talked to you about your life and your plans, he felt like more of a parental figure than your own parents. sometimes when he looks at you with that all knowing glint in his aged eyes, holding his words back and trusting you to make your own decision, you wish your parents were more present in your life.

“go change into clean clothes, please!” you shoo the sweaty boys away from you when they try to give you a hug. the first years, recognizing the influence you have with their coach, had taken to lining up in a straight line, saluting to you with reverence. “yes, senpai!”

you shake your head at the younger boys as they start cleaning up, jumping with excitement at the prospects of being given time off. you place the cake back into the cake carrier to bring to the restaurant as dessert.

“y/n-chan!” tendo casually walks over to you, hands placed on his hips. “you look real pretty today. ushijima-kun must be over the moon that you dressed up for his birthday.” he grins at you teasingly.

you elbow the boy, rolling your eyes at him. “shut your mouth if you don’t have anything good to say, satori.”

“huh? anyone with eyes would be.” he sticks his tongue out at you, leaning back on the bench with his hands braced on either side of himself.

you sit down next to him, watching the team packing up the equipment and mopping the floors. particularly the team captain. you got serious, remembering their recent loss in nationals. “how was practice? i know the interhigh loss must have been tough.”

“well enough, i suppose. we are constantly pushing each other to improve, ushijima-kun most of all.” he shrugs, pausing. you know that he gives his all and more to be the best out there. after all, he is one of the top three aces in the country at the high school level. but still, you worry that he is pushing himself too hard.

when school was in session, you had to drag your boys out of the gym by the neck on some evenings. they would lose track of time, practicing hours past practice, wearing their tired bodies down. and you would be there to tell them off. on some days, bribing them with food gets them out of the gym.

tendo pins you with a knowing look. “i’m glad you found each other, you know.”

“who?” you frown at him. he needs to stop being so vague and whatever this is.

“you and ushijima-kun. he’s different around you, a good different,” he gestures toward you, “and you, you are happier around him. you smile more, and you come out of your shell to hang out with us. it feels like he’s the sun and you’re the moon, and you reflect the light he shines on you radiantly.”

you understand what he meant. you, of all people, would know. being around ushijima feels like basking in warm sunlight in spring when it’s a little too chilly without the sun. though you don’t want to admit it, it feels like home.

you don’t care to dig deeper and put a name to the feeling. you just wish to savor the present before it slips through your fingers. all you know is that you truly felt safe to be yourself around him. you love the person you are, the person you are becoming, with ushijima by your side.

since that vulnerable night you shared with him months ago, he had kept his promise. whenever you took a step towards the light, he was right there next to you. and when the darkness tried to lure you back into its familiar embrace, he held your hand tight, refusing to let you go.

slowly, but surely, you began to look forward to plans you made with your friends and classes that you found an interest in. to see the summer transition to autumn. to the life you would have after high school. music started to feel like magic instead of an escape.

the hazy future that had avoided you became clearer. you had friends who cared about you. you grew the courage to show yourself and say the things you were too afraid to say in conversations. you smiled more, laughed more. you started living, and it felt good. it felt amazing, actually. you have developed the confidence to be the person that you kept hidden away for far too long.

“i’m the lucky one,” you mutter to yourself, lost in your own thoughts, failing to notice that tendo had been called away and the boys are filing out of the gym, chattering excitedly. semi calls out to you, “let’s go, y/n!”

“wait for me!” you yell back at him, jumping up and grabbing the cake carrier. semi links his arm through yours as you catch up to them.

a lively air surrounds your group of friends as you head into town for dinner. your party of twenty takes up a good portion of the restaurant. talking and laughing about the most random things, from semi’s recent obsession with styling his hair to the time ohira got so nervous talking to a girl he said he likes her friend.

the waitress comes by the table to take your orders, timidly trying to speak to the boys, but they are all distractedly speaking amongst themselves. so you stood up, clinking your fork to a glass of water to get their attention, telling them to decide on their orders and tallying up the different sets that they chose. she shoots you a grateful smile for making her life easier and not having to interact with the intimidating group of boys. you return an apologizing smile to her for your party who is being difficult to handle.

dinner flies by with you seated between ushijima and semi. tendo rose to his feet, copying your earlier actions of clinking a utensil to a glass to get everyone’s attention. and proceeds to give a birthday toast to ushijima. “ushijima-kun, i am grateful to be able to call you my friend. happy birthday to the best team captain i have ever had!”

you all cheer for his sweet and simple birthday wish, sounds of clinking glasses and whoops fill the air. soekawa, seated beside tendo goes next, and then, ohira, and one by one, going around the table, birthday wishes are said to ushijima.

shirabu wishes his senpai a great year of volleyball ahead and to win the nationals in his final year. semi admits that he admires ushijima’s work ethic when it comes to volleyball and for the soon-to-be third years to do their best.

and then all eyes fall to you, the last one at the table to say something. the only girl sitting at the table full of strong-framed volleyball players. but somehow, you don’t feel like the odd one out. no, you feel perfectly comfortable with the group of friends who is beginning to feel like family.

but it is the pair of earth colored eyes that knocks the breath out of you.

“wakatoshi, it has been my honor to call you my friend in the past year. you’ve seen parts of me that no one else had seen,” you pause, the hoots and excited clapping from the second years interrupting you. you shoot them a glare that promises death, realizing how your words implied something else.

but you ignore the burning in your cheeks as you continue your toast. “and yet you stayed when you did not have to. you’re an amazing person, and an even better volleyball player. let’s celebrate this day next year and every year after that. happy birthday, captain!”

you meet his eyes, a warm light to them. a silent thank you reverberating in their depths.

no, thank you. a blink, and then a slow smile back to ushijima as the world fades away to silence until it was just the two of you.

you see the understanding in his eyes. so many words left unsaid because they were not needed, not with him. they say soulmates complete each other. but you never believed in soulmates. even if they did exist, he wouldn’t be yours.

tendo is right. he’s a sun, capable of powering entire planets, and you are but a barren moon, thriving under his care, much like the other planets and their own moons in the solar system. just as the moon orbits the earth and the sun, so does the sun orbit the center of the milky way galaxy. and the sun is always out of the moon’s reach, destined for greater things.

you are grateful to have him in your life, but you know that sooner or later, he will move on. he is meant for more than just this. such is this life. so you will take whatever fate has given you and hold on to it tightly while you can.

even if your souls are made from the same fabric, it is not enough for the ill-fated hand that you have been dealt. it should be enough for you to be able to share this time with ushijima. it has to be.

and then the noise comes flooding back in, pulling you back to reality as ushijima looks away towards someone who pulled him into a conversation.

you stand up abruptly, unsettled by the realization that crept up on you. “i’m going to get some fresh air”, you say tightly to no one in particular, grabbing your purse and walking out the door.

you settle on the curved bench, throwing your head back and enjoying the occasional cool breeze kissing the warm skin on your neck, legs stretched out like a cat. you stare up at the sky, at the moon and the stars twinkling in the distance.

a heavy weight settling besides you startles you, sending you scrambling to sit up. “it’s me” ushijima.

“hey, you. what are you doing away from your party, birthday boy?” you relax back into your comfortable position. sometimes you think you get high on air around him.

he nudges you. “not the same without the person who made it all happen.”

you unconsciously scoot closer to him despite the heat radiating off his body. “i enjoy their company, but i think the quiet suits me more.” against your best judgement, you lean in towards him, resting your heavy head against the curve of his shoulder. the silence always feels so loving in his presence.

“thank you,” you turn to look at him, finding his gaze already on you. his face is inches away from yours. that’s the closest you two have ever gotten, you think. you could lose yourself in his eyes forever.

“for what?” it comes out as a whisper.

there is a twinkle in his eyes. “for today. for making my birthday such a memorable one. for all the food you made me. for the green tea you keep stocked for me. for seeing me.” a smile graces his lips, “for being on my side. for nothing. for everything. for being you.” he lists, counting on both hands.

maybe it’s the way his voice calms you and soothes your fears. maybe it’s the feeling of his arm against yours. maybe it’s the way the moonlight is shining in his hair. maybe it’s the feeling of the melody that had been slumbering in you shift and open one eye. maybe it’s the way he saw your darkest and ugliest parts and still chose to stay. maybe it’s the way he felt like home.

because despite your best intentions, despite the promise you made to yourself to not fall in love, you find yourself stepping off the cliff.

reblogs and comments are appreciated! i wanted to yell so much as i proofread this part omg AHHH my inbox is also open if you would like to yell about them privately <3

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hiraethwa · 1 month

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He is kissing you desperately, grabbing your soft curve of hips as he is in total mercy of your beauty...he just came home from an important meeting, so he is still in his suit, hair tottaly messy from how your slide your fingers in there as you plant soft, sweet kisses on his lips that makes him in want...

"Such a tease, baby" he growls.

he bites on his lip as he starts removing his tie with middle and index finger and with his hair messed up, it looks tottaly sexy...you feel butterflies in your stomach as he grabs your wrists together and wraps his tie around your wrists as you cant escape him.

" I think you look better than I do with my ties on, love~"

-> SAKUSA KIYOMI, ushijima wakatoshi, kageyama tobio, IWAIZUMI HAJIME, miya osamu, KUROO TETSURO, kozume kenma, TSUKISHIMA KEI, sawamura daichi.

#ALL FOUR OF MY HUSBANDS ARE ON HERE #let me live please

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hiraethwa · 2 months

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11 Things He Hates About You

✨Synopsis: MSBY Kiyoomi Sakusa x reader slight angst to fluff with some NSFW!!

✨Warnings: NSFW MDNI!!! There’s a touch of angst and sexual tension/ sexual acts described

✨WC: 2201 words

✨Author’s Note: Hey there Wanderers! This is the final part for this mini series for the time being. I will put a poll up later this month on what characters I should write next. Also I may have gotten a little carried away with Sakusa’s version as he is one of my favorite characters.😅 Anyway have safe travels through the alternate universes! ~ Starry✨

✨ Here’s the link for this series masterlist and the link to my main masterlist for more fics.

Kiyoomi Sakusa is not a warm and fuzzy person. He is a prickly, cold, germaphobe that hates most people, including you.

He hates the way his heart rate picks up pace when you walk in the room.

It’s as if he has no control over his own body when you’re around. He can’t stand the way his palms sweat more around you. You don’t seem to pick up on the way you affect him in every way possible either. You’re just doing your job, yet it’s bothering him. In conclusion he needs to avoid you at all costs.

He hates how meticulous you are.

Ironic, he knows he’s the pot calling the kettle black. Either way, you are too good at your job as the media manager for the MSBY Black Jackals. You make sure all their social medias are up to date. You handle photography during practice, games, and other sponsorship events. None of that is the real issue it’s when your attention is on to him that the problem occurs. You’ve always made sure to sanitize your hands and then offer him some before touching him. If he’s ever handed anything to sign or hold you always and wordlessly offer him hand sanitizer afterwards too. His germaphobic tendencies aren’t a hard thing to notice, but for you to go out of your way to mimic these habits is strange to him. It makes him feel all jittery or maybe he’s getting sick.

He hates that you defend him.

He’s only ever had to speak to you in professional settings and even then it’s minimal. As soon as the paparazzi and some fans break through a barrier to bombard him with questions it’s you stepping in the way. Security was doing their job to usher everyone back behind the broken barrier, but you were the one to stop his fan girls from grabbing at him. You pushed them back and told him to just go to the locker room. He didn’t need defending; I mean he’s a 6’4” professional athlete, but why did it make him so flustered that you did that for him? Why does he feel hotter than he did before?

He hates the way the fans hate on you.

He understands why, but it’s not a valid reason to do so. The fans specifically his fans were pretty ruthless in picking you apart on social media. They criticized your relevance, your looks, and the way you spoke. After the incident with the barriers you hadn’t been as prevalent at practice or the last two games. It was probably MSBY’s way of trying to keep the spot light on the team rather than you. Speaking of which, you were still at the stadium before and after practices. You were mostly staying in your office. The window on the door to your office was angled so he could see you working while he was walking out of the stadium’s weight room. Not that he was worried that you had been fired.

He hates that you make him worry.

There was a few days where the team was going away for a tournament in South Korea. Their social media accounts were bustling with the updates about it and photos of all of them, yet you weren’t with them. In fact he hadn’t seen you at work for over a week. Which made him loathe the feeling of worry building up inside him. The team had noticed him being grumpier than usual and none other than Atsumu Miya had decided to pop the tension bubble. The two of them were sat next to each other on the plane ride to South Korea; this led to Atsumu asking why he was so obsessed with you. The death glare and the slight blush hitting the tips of Kiyoomi’s ears was enough to let Atsumu to back off. He gave Atsumu a lame excuse and told him to stop trying to set him up with anyone. It wasn’t the first time Atsumu had tried meddling in his teammate’s love life, but it was the first time that he was spot on with pointing out Kiyoomi’s problem. Whether he wanted admit it or not, you were on his mind a lot lately. He wasn’t obsessed with you or anything. He was only annoyed that even in your lack of presence has a bigger affect on him than he thought.

He hates your laugh.

It rings through the air at the stadium in South Korea. It’s not a bad laugh or weird sounding one either, but he hates that he knows it’s yours. Even when he can’t see you. In all honesty, he could probably pin point the sound in a crowd of laughter. With your laughter comes your radiant smile and sweet dimples too. He knows you’re here with them professionally, but a part of him longs to know if you’ve been feeling the same things he has. He wonders if his gaze makes your heart skip a beat or if the sound of his voice make you feel as though the room’s temperature had increased. He must surely be sick if that’s what his mind is focusing on right now.

He hates that he wants to show off more now that you’re here.

During all the first day matches Kiyoomi dominated with his spikes. His receives were perfect for Atsumu every time and not a single complaint came from their coach or Atsumu. There was something about this last match of the day that made him hungrier than ever for a winning spike. He was competitive no matter what, but the way the guys on the bench for the other team were eyeing you up pushed him over the edge. It was as though there was a feral rage burning in his veins. Atsumu seemed to catch on pretty quickly as he followed Kiyoomi’s eyes over to the other team’s ace trying to chat you up.

He hates how possessive you make him feel.

Although they won and he got the winning point he can’t help but still feel that hunger. His teammates were all celebrating in the locker room, but he was lost in his thoughts. He showered in silence and didn’t say much more than a ‘thanks’, ‘you too’, or give a pat on the back of his teammates. They all exited the locker room until it was just him under the water of the shower. Atsumu had called out to him to hurry up so they could head back to the hotel. He steps out of the shower with just a towel around his waist. He realized he left his clean clothes in his bag over by the lockers and goes over to where he had set his gym bag. He was so lost in his thoughts that he hadn’t heard you had come in. Atsumu had told you that there was a nice welcome sign for the team in there. Which was true, but he hadn’t told you that Sakusa was still in there.

He hates how easily flustered you become.

You’re both adults, but your face turned crimson almost instantaneously. You saw him standing there with just a towel draped dangerously low around his waist. You quickly apologized and with a bow then ran out of the locker room. It’s annoying how fast his heart is hammering in his chest and how the blood circulation down in his groin had become more prevalent. He wondered if you were standing outside in the hall way thinking the same thing. Why now of all times is he getting a massive hard on? Is it because the dreams he’s been having of you two fooling around in the MSBY locker rooms? No, he can’t let his mind wander like that right now. He needed to get dressed and hide his raging boner as everyone was waiting on him so they could go to the hotel.

He hates how you’re okay with accepting less than what you deserve.

The team’s manager fumbled big time in the hotel bookings. There was supposed to be one single bed room and then seven double bed rooms. The single bed room was for supposed to be for you considering you’re the only woman on this trip; however the hotel clerk had confirmed that only the seven double bed rooms were booked. You offered to just book a room for yourself with your own money and get reimbursed later, but the hotel was fully booked out for the evening. They offered to get you a room at one of their other locations, but it was on the opposite side of the city from where the stadium was. Instead of trying to find another hotel for yourself, Atsumu suggested you room with him and Sakusa. It was far too late to argue, so you agreed to this plan. If looks could kill, the look Kiyoomi gave Atsumu Miya would’ve killed him right where he stood. The three of you headed up to your room and saw that there was a small couch. You told them both that as long as you could borrow a pillow and blanket from one of them that the couch would be sufficient enough for you to sleep on. Before either of them could protest you made it clear they were both far too tall for that couch. It was only logical for the shortest person to sleep there. With that settled the three of you took turns getting ready for bed.

He hates that he enjoys your warmth.

He couldn’t sleep, maybe it was the way he couldn’t stop thinking about how your pupils dilated when you saw him in just a towel earlier. He once again had a massive erection and this time it wasn’t going anywhere unless he did something about it. He could hear both yours and Atsumu’s steady breathing which confirmed that you both were asleep. His muscles were definitely sore and tired from the matches earlier. It was his mind that kept him awake, so he decided to head to the bathroom to take care of his not so little problem. He thought back on his dreams of the two of you as if they were memories. He hates how perverted it is to know you were asleep on the other side of the door; meanwhile he was touching himself to the ways he wanted to fuck you. Wondering if you’d like it if he pulled your hair while taking you from behind, or better yet would you pull his hair as he worshipped you with his mouth. With these thoughts freely going through his mind it didn’t take long for him to get close. What he hadn’t realized is that he had accidentally woken you up with the light from the bathroom. He was at the edge of orgasm when he heard you call out his name from behind the door. The rippling effect it had on his body was more than he could handle and he orgasmed hard. He bit his hand in order to cover for the fact that he most definitely would have moaned in response. You knocked lightly and called out his name again as to not wake up Atsumu. This time he opened the door to you who was too tired to realize he was slightly out of breath and how disheveled he looked. You asked him if he was okay. He wasn’t okay, you looked so beautiful in such a soft and natural way. Maybe the post but clarity was hitting harder this time. He tried to gather himself to answer you, but the best he could say was that his mind was too active to sleep. He thinks he must be dreaming or worse hallucinating when after he says that, you ask him if he wanted you to talk to him until he fell asleep. Regardless of whether it was real or not he didn’t hesitate to pull you over to his bed where you both got under the covers. Normally, he’d never do this with anyone, but he supposes you aren’t just anyone. You’ve captured his heart and attention in a way no one else has. You’ve invaded his thoughts in both conscious and subconscious. Now all he wants is you reciprocating this same mentality. He listens for a while as you ramble on about whatever new camera is coming out and the cool shutter settings it has. Eventually you both had fallen asleep, because when he woke up he felt the warmth of your body against his own. Your face buried in the crook of his neck and your arms draped around him. He noticed that his own arms had somehow wrapped around you too. The peace it brought him knowing you hadn’t gotten out of his bed after he fell asleep was ruined by a certain faux blonde’s phone making a shutter sound. Someday, Kiyoomi would be grateful for Atsumu capturing this moment forever on camera, but today was not that day.

Kiyoomi Sakusa still hates most people, but you aren’t most people to him anymore.

Taglist:

@optimisitcsandwichgladiator

✨To be added to my taglists check out this post!

#sakusa kiyoomi

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hiraethwa · 2 months

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HES SO BEAUTIFUL MY BOY 😭😭😭

#kageyama tobio

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hiraethwa · 2 months

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one summer day

06 saturn ii. where ushijima’s words take you by surprise.

<< 05 saturn i. | >> 07 sun and moon. | << the collection >>

pairing: ushijima wakatoshi x reader a/n: i am back from my trip now, i will be posting more regularly again, thank you for staying! i loved reading the tags on your reblogs of one summer day, they make my heart go WAHHH! my inbox is always open if you want to chat <3 - ave word count: 1.5k warnings: angst, childhood trauma, parental neglect/verbal abuse, past death of a family member

april, second year

“you don’t have to be the person in your house with me.”

since he stayed with you that night, there has been a medley of conflicting feelings swirling in you. you had felt embarrassed in the morning, but also relieved for his presence. and this burning shame in your chest whenever you see him and his eyes seem to ask, are you alright?

you could tell he wants to ask so many questions, but he is holding himself back, waiting for you to tell him yourself. worst of all, you wanted to tell him, consequences be damned. but you were afraid he would see you differently. you don’t think you could bear the person who’s seen you at your worst decide you were not worth his time. but if you wait any longer, perhaps he would decide that anyway.

“what i mean is, you can be yourself around me, always.” you know that. deep down, you feel it.

“ushijima–” you start, staring down at your shoes, thinking about how to explain that day to him without trauma dumping on him.

he corrects you, “wakatoshi”

your cheeks color, testing the way his name rolls off your tongue, “wakatoshi… i owe you an explanation…”

you decide it is easier to start from the day everything changed. so you tell him what you haven’t been able to tell any of your friends since that day eight years ago. about your sister, akiko’s death anniversary. that she passed away in an accident, and that it was your fault for leaving her outside the house when your mother tasked you to look after her. that even though eight year old you went in to get some water for the both of you playing outside, it was still your fault. that she had ran out after a stray cat and did not see the car coming. that it was your fault.

“am i a terrible person?”

and then you hold your breath, knowing there is a possibility that he would have that accusing look in his warm brown eyes. beautiful with tiny flecks of greens and golds. you think those are your favorite features of him. and fuck, it would hurt like hell if that is the way he looks at you from now on. but you had taken a leap of faith, all you can do is hope for the best. hope that the feeling in your gut is not wrong.

“and your parents, why weren’t they around?” for their daughter’s death anniversary goes unspoken. of all the questions he could have asked, he sure did pick the most difficult one, you thought.

“let’s just say we all cope in our own ways. akiko’s death… it changed our family for the worse. my father threw himself into work to forget about it… my mother… her grief made her meaner, colder, it changed her.”

he gives you a concerned look, causing you to hurriedly explain that your mother is not abusive. “she’s just different than the mother i had when akiko was still here. she cared less about us, her words became sharp, like knives designed to hurt, especially when it comes to me, but she never laid a hand on us. i think her grief morphed into anger, and she never stopped blaming me for that day.”

“it isn’t your fault, you know that, right?” he grabs your wrist, turning you around to look at him.

your next words comes out in a whisper. “i know, but if i hadn’t left her, akiko would still be here. if i had done what i was supposed to, my parents wouldn’t have lost their daughter, and we could have been happy,” your voice cracks.

“you were a child. it wasn’t your fault. do you understand?” his strong grip on your shoulders forces you to look into his eyes. there was no judgement in them. no accusing look, no blame, only resolution. and they made you feel safe. “you cannot be blamed for your parent’s decisions, and it was their responsibility to look after their children’s well-being, not an eight year old child. your only duty was to grow up.”

an unidentifiable feeling overwhelms you, welling up tears in your eyes. what is it about me and crying in front of ushijima? you had been fine, just fine before he came along and messed up your coping system. every year before this on that day, you wouldn’t even cry, believing that all your tears had been spent when you were eight. that all you could do is feel empty and sad and self-destructive on that day while lying in your bed, staring at the ceiling until the sun comes up.

oh gods, you were eight, and you had believed that it was your fault your family lost a sister, a daughter, and your mother let you believe it. she never let you forget it. all the hurtful words hurled at you. all the pain you swallowed and carefully locked away in a box.

your home stopped being a home that day.

home should feel safe. home should be a place you long to be after a long day, not somewhere you dreaded. home should feel like a warm blanket on cold winter days, not a house that is a place to eat and sleep. home should feel safe. but it doesn’t.

you had known it for a long time. but you had been running away, refusing to face the fact. that maybe if you pretended hard enough, it would all go away. all this heartbreak that you had hidden away would vanish.

“i don’t think my mother fully forgave me for it. i don’t think she forgave herself either.” but you were only a child. and all you wanted was her love, and approval, and support, and presence in your life.

you look up at the stars shining in the dark sky, wondering if your sister is one of the millions smiling down at you from a far away distance. “she would have been in junior high if she was still here.” you smile sadly at the stars, thinking of the life that she could have had ahead of her. all taken away in one unfortunate moment.

“your sister would want you to be happy, to live for yourself. i think she would find solace in that.”

you turn sharply to look at ushijima. “i–i have been doing my best to survive.”

his voice turns gentle, “but not truly living.”

“have you spoken to anyone about this?” he inquires, though you think he knows the answer.

you clench your fists, looking away, a rising feeling in your chest that you identify as discomfort. oh, he is safe, but he is not afraid to tell you the truth, no matter how much it hurts. “you’re the first.”

no one would understand anyway. not your parents, if they even cared enough to listen to you. not your brother, who had pushed you to open up, he lost his sister that night too.

“then you no longer carry the burden by your lonesome. live, y/n, for you and your sister.”

live. he says it like it is so easy. as if living in that house doesn’t make you gasp for breath. if only your house did not also feel like your prison. if only being alive when your sister no longer breathes does not feel like a sin. as if everyday does not feel like being trapped in the past.

and then with excruciating realization, you admit it. “i don’t know how.”

the recognition leaves your head spinning, and you seek the comfort that you had felt in his arms. looping your arms around his torso, you bury your head into his chest. how do i do this how do i do this how do–

“you take it day by day. one foot in front of you at a time. and you keep looking forward.” he tilts your chin up, searching your eyes. “i will be right next to you.” he promises.

“don’t say things you don’t mean.” please don’t make promises you can’t keep.

“y/n, i only say things i mean.” you hope he sees the gratitude in your eyes. you really hope he means it. because you think you can make it, with him by your side. when you’re with ushijima, you can truly breathe. with him by your side, you can see a glimpse of your future tonight. maybe not tomorrow, not a month from now, but one day, you could be happy.

akiko, did you send him to me? thank you. i love you. i miss you. i miss you so much. but i think i need to learn to let you go now.

reblogs and comments are appreciated!

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