#(hinata can be worse at times) | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

faeryarchives · 3 months

Text

more than words (sebek zigvolt & silver x gn!reader)

requested by anon: Hey, hopefully still open! I hope I didn't break any rules, because it's kinda angsty, but tries my best no to be heavy. It'll be Silver and Sebek. Where Yuu eyes got injured and they need time to heal so their eyes got bandage and blind temporary. The idea is from Naruto, where Hinata got eyes injury and Neji help silently. So imagine them still in pining state. Helping their crush silently :"). note: hi anon! no you did not break any rules but i made it both headcanon and scenario wise hihi other fics: heartslabyul with a furina-like reader & savanaclaw with a furina-like female reader & i'm not jealous !! (savanaclaw x gn!reader) & to my beloved (octavinelle x gn!s/o)

⚘ sebek zigvolt

sebek didn't mean for it to happen - everything went like a blur and the only thing he remembered vividly is how you start panicking and crying out how you can't see anything

if he knew that helping you and your group out would lead to a disaster, he would just stayed in his lane

"(name)!" sebek immediately ran towards you, assisting you in maintaining your balance as you tried to prevent any more of the alchemy liquid from coming in contact with your eyes. "henchman, are you alright?!" grim ran at the speed of light - wiping the disaster off your face. "i'm fine, you guys! just give me a minute." crewel made his way towards you worriedly. "little pup, can you open your eyes?" sebek watched you open your eyes, only to look disturbed for a reason. "...? why is everything so blurry?" you started to blink rapidly to try to make the blurriness of your vision away, only for it to worsen, and the light was not helping. instead - it just made everything worse. "i'm kidding, everything is not fine. i can't see anything. every time i try to blink it hurts!" "... i think you should take some time off of class."

all he wanted was to help you out 🙁 did he messed up again?

he couldn't help but feel down even after being graced with malleus presence which caused the diasomnia trio to notice his odd behavior

"it turns out child of man got into an accident?" "and regrettably - it's all my fault." "then why don't you go and help them out? i'm sure they will appreciate it."

that is why sebek found himself trailing behind you silently - watching over you while grim went out to fill in your classes

seeing the bandage around your eyes made him feel more guilty that is why he opt to not reveal his presence

reaching out for your water bottle but it's out of reach? you will miraculously find it next to you after one minute + during the morning there is already breakfast served for you and grim and you knew that ace and deuce definitely didn't do it

it's not like you were that dumb to not notice anything especially when you hadn't tripped over anything + not knowing how sebek would prevent himself from screaming and immediately grabbing the random things on the floor for you to not slip

oh you only know the surface how this man would look at you with so much care to the point that the ghosts felt like they were intruding on the both of you

helping and guiding you around became a part of sebek's regular routine; honestly, he was so happy he got to assist you in his own way! and he got to see many sides of you, too - flustered after almost tripping down the stairs, getting frustrated in opening things after trying to force the lid to the opening direction and such.

it became a surprise to him how well you adapt to your situation, especially when you start to look in his direction - as if you knew who he was. imagine his shock when you finally took several steps forward and reached out your arm only to press it against his chest.

"sebek, it's you who's helping me around, right?

"…! how did you-?!"

"you are not as sneaky as you think. don't you know the charm I gave you as a gift has a certain sound?" your hands seem to find his own, and you finally gently wrap them in your touch.

"i was wondering why you are staying silent all this time though."

"the alchemy accident was all my fault! how can i face you after causing you to lose your vision?"

"you said it yourself; it was an accident. you didn't intend this to happen." sebek felt some pressure around his cheek from you pinching it - his eye focused on how you still have that same smile you would give him daily.

"why don't we keep each other company right now? do you listen to podcasts?"

⚘ silver

silver knew that what he feels about you is more than a platonic one + but seeing you with your other friends so happy makes him feel like he doesn't deserve you

so silver decided to maintain his distance and vowed to protect you from afar

but it became one of his regrets as he stood there helplessly and watched you get injured after helping ruggie to escape from an overblotted leona

okay, tackling leona and pushing the hyena out of his hold may not be a good idea. still, at least it worked out! "ruggie, are you okay?" you tried walking to the wounded second-year, eventually failing due to the sudden sharp pain you felt around your foot. 'fuck, must have cushioned my fall on the wrong foot...' you clicked your tongue in annoyance and tried to stand up ever so slowly, failing to realize the screams of your friends and a compelling presence looming from behind until it was too late. "behind you, idiot! why are you just standing there?!" an irk mark appeared on your head after hearing ace scream from the crowd. "who are you calling an idiot?!" "that's your priority?" your blood ran cold after finally realizing that leona was only an arm's length from you. life flashing right literally before your eyes. 'oh, i'll be damned...' "(name)!" silver didn't know how he did it but his body moved before his mind could, already running towards you and leona in fear of losing you - his hand already holding his wand tightly, but he couldn't think of any spells to cast. the damage was already done by the time the knight reached you and carried you away. "please be okay. please be okay, please be okay—" silver froze when you start to reach out towards him, your hands were now start to bleed from the excessive cracking of your skin. but the worst was yet to come. "s-silver? is that you?! i can't see anything!" "...what?" "it hurts, it hurts, it hurts so much. why won't it stop?!" the second year could feel his heart drop as you start to cry out in pain and how it will forever haunt him even to his dreams. "i'm so sorry, it'll be over soon, i promise."

it turns out you were not accustomed to experiencing highly accumulated mana and it affected most of your senses especially your eyesight

that is why crowley suggested you to take some time off + resulting you to have bandages around your eyes to avoid it to get irritated by light

you were expecting your healing time to be hard as to not being used to not seeing things - but it was like there was a uardian angel around you always

"grim, did you rearrange the dorms or something?" "me? not me! those things are heavy looking you know." "huh, maybe i am just lucky to be able to reach the things i need?" "mmm, maybe! i just remembered i asked deuce to help me bake your favorite food with trey!" "...you're leaving me alone?!" "i'll leave them to you, nya!"

that was the time when you realize someone was helping you around and it was certainly not grim 😭 i mean his little paws wouldn't be able to cook (favorite food) with him just alone

ace and deuce are good friends even though they are trouble makers but they could never be this silent 👩🏻‍⚖️

sometimes you would almost catch your secret helper only for them to suddenly disappear from your range and the people you were thinking off were slowly getting crossed out in your mind and it only leaves one person - silver

"i'll be out again nya! don't miss me too much, i'm going to bake your favorite food!"

"and i am alone once again." you tapped your finger against the table, humming and wondering if your secret helper is still around. "is anyone there?" what came as a question was only answered with pure silence - except for the birds chirping outside.

"…i'm kinda bored."

with the ghosts and grim being absent from the dorm made it lonelier for you - not used to the silence. you leaned your head on the dining table out of boredom; after days of being unable to attend class, you can't believe you missed listening to lectures!

"i think i can remove it right now right?" contemplating for a while,you remove the bandage around your eyes, wincing at the sudden brightness but rather than seeing only blurry things - your eyesight were slowly becoming clear until your sight came back to normal.

"woah… i can finally see again-"

"oh…" the moment you can finally see clearly, your eyes met shocked auroral-like hues revealing silver a few feet away from you with his arm already reaching out towards you as if prepared to catch you any moment.

"i knew it! it was you silver!" after being exposed, silver couldn't help but take a few steps back, scratching the back of his neck and avoiding your gaze. a light hue of red coating the apple of his cheeks.

"how did you know it was me?" you stood up and walk up to him - unknowingly giving him a soft smile that made his heart flutter.

"no one is as gentle and quiet as you are." pointing your finger over his shoulder, silver turned around to see a familiar group of small animals hanging around your dorm. "and i only know one person that animals love."

silver sighed before sitting on the chair next to him, holding his head in his hands. "… i feel so angry at myself for not being able to help you back then. that's why i thought-"

"thank you for saving me and even helping me while i am healing."

"you are not mad?"

"why would i be? hey, would you mind if you introduce me to your little friends?"

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland imagines #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland headcanons #twisted wonderland scenarios #twst scenarios #twst imagines #twst headcanons #twst sebek #twst silver #silver twisted wonderland #sebek zigvolt #silver x reader #sebek zigvolt x reader #twisted wonderland sebek #sebek x reader #faeryarchives

245 notes · View notes

dira333 · 2 months

Text

Of Godzilla and the Night Sky - Iwaizumi x reader

Finally done - tagging @shoulmate and @emmyrosee because for some reason Osamu had to play wingman in this one - come get your man

It helps that Miya Osamu is roughly your age.

“Please,” you say, swallowing around the lump in your throat. “I’m a quick learner!”

He eyes you for a moment. His face does not tell you anything and you suppose you can’t fault him for saying no. You’ve got no experience waiting tables and he’s not exactly looking for an employee.

“You can start tomorrow,” he agrees finally. “Do you have some time to go over everything right now or are you willing to come in earlier tomorrow?”

“I don’t have to be anywhere right now,” you stutter around and he nods, beckons you behind the counter.

This is how it starts. This is how it ends.

You’ve paid off your publisher instead of writing the last novel in your contract.

You’re free but without a job, almost all your savings have gone toward that freedom.

You’ve got no proper training but the almost forgotten two weeks you spent photocopying papers in your father's office when you were fourteen.

Maybe you’ve written too many romance books, have searched for too many signs where there had been none given, but the glowing sign of an Onigiri shop had called you in like a beacon in the stormy sea called life.

“Welcome to Onigiri Miya!” You greet with a friendly smile. Atsumu throws an arm around you and pulls you in.

“This is what I was talking about!” He calls out to his brother. “No one wants to see your ugly face when they come in. This is a smile that makes me want to eat.”

“Gross,” Sakusa mutters right behind him but while his mask hides his mouth, you can tell by his eyes that he sends you a smile.

Most of Atsumu’s team comes by at least once a week. High on adrenaline after a win, for team bonding, as Meian calls it, or just to lick their wounds after a particularly nasty loss. They’re not easy, with Atsumu, Hinata and Bokuto all fighting for your attention while Inunaki keeps ribbing and teasing whoever he can get to. But they’re still under your favorite customers and sometimes, when the ruckus dies down a little, Sakusa comes to sit at the bar, mask put away, and asks about your day. You know Osamu thinks he likes you and Atsumu constantly tries to set the two of you up on a date.

But you know better.

“How’s moving going?” You ask when Sakusa takes a seat at the bar, far away from where the rest of his teammates are trying to drink each other under the table.

Sakusa smiles softly. “It’s going well, thank you. But I’ve come to loathe the feeling of cardboard boxes. It’s disgusting.”

You laugh. “You are very particular in your likes and dislikes, aren’t you?”

He cocks his head to the side as if waiting for something. You sigh. “But you have great taste.” You add and he smiles smugly.

Ever since you met his girlfriend - and was sworn to secrecy by him right after - he’s come to collect that particular comment almost every time the two of you talk.

“But enough about me,” He eyes the counter for a second before placing his elbows on the surface and leaning in. “How are you doing?”

“I’m doing okay,” you tell him sincerely. “Osamu pays well and I don’t have that many expenses. I keep going like this I should be fine.”

“Hmm,” he eyes you suspiciously. “But you miss writing?”

You tense, throwing a look over his shoulder to check for people listening in. But they are still absorbed in their drinking game.

“I’m not… I miss the rush of it when the story would just… flow out of me. But I don’t have anything to tell right now and I don’t want to sit at my desk for hours staring at an empty document. That’s… That’s worse than cleaning the bathrooms after someone had the spicy Onigiri’s.”

Sakusa pulls a face but he nods, understanding. “I’m sure it will come back. But it’s good that you don’t have to rush anything, right?”

You smile. Yeah. It’s good. Life’s good.

“Welcome to Onigiri Miya!” You greet with a smile, hoping against hope that the nervous beating of your heart does not show on your face.

Atsumu reaches you first, slinging an arm around you before bounding off towards their table. There’s Hinata and Bokuto who hug you, Kageyama and Ushijima who nod at you in greeting, before Sakusa winks at you and steps aside to let Iwaizumi greet you.

The smile on his face makes your stomach flip a little but you keep your smile in place.

“Good to see you could come in again,” you tell him. He pulls you into a hug, warm and comforting, his scent washing over you like a wave of fondness.

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” he whispers into your ear before he pulls away again.

“Come on, Coach!” Atsumu calls from the table, “We’re hungry!”

“Tell your brother then!” Hoshiumi crows right before Suna yells “Samu!” through the restaurant.

“Yeez, I’m here!” Osamu calls out from the kitchen. “And I’m not deaf, have some manners, will ya?!”

Iwaizumi takes his place at the table. It’s no coincidence that you come to stand right next to him to take their orders. It hasn’t been that long since they come in regularly after Friday’s training, Japan Men’s National Volleyball Team taking up most of the available space. It’s no loss in profit to keep the restaurant reserved for their team meetings and you’ve certainly enjoyed yourself ever since the first time Sakusa ventured over, Iwaizumi in tow, to introduce the two of you.

You like him. A lot, actually. There’s a warmth in his eyes that you seems to increase every time he looks at you. His interest in you is calm but sincere, and he remembers even the small things you mention offhandedly - like how you were worried that the plants you own could be poisonous to the kitten you found on the street or how your favorite brand of coffee has been discontinued. You like that he takes things slowly but is never careless about the meaning of his words. You wish, for the first time in forever, that you could write a story that feels like him.

…

“Can I walk you home?” Iwaizumi asks as the team’s clearing out. You’re disinfecting the table, almost jerking up from surprise.

“I… uh…” You throw a look at Osamu who grins.

“Go,” he insists. “I can take care of this.”

You live barely fifteen minutes away and while you’ve longed for a shorter distance on particularly rainy days, you loathe the shortness of your walk tonight. Iwaizumi’s warmth seems to seep into you just from walking next to him. His laugh vibrates through the air in a way you can almost see.

“I used to paint doors,” you recall as you walk, not really sure what question of his got you to this answer, “Hoping I’d be able to open them and step into different worlds.”

“Do you like that idea?” He asks, “To step out of this world, to get away?”

“Not necessarily to get away. It’s more like… What’s out there, you know?”

He nods slowly, eyes straight ahead. You wait, trusting the time he takes to think.

“When I was a kid, I used to capture Cicada’s. But I always let them go again. I felt sorry for them, I think, because their life’s so short anyway.”

“But you still caught them.”

“Yeah,” he laughs, rubs his neck awkwardly, “What does that say about you?”

“I don’t know, but… maybe you knew that they did not belong to you, but you still wanted to hold on to them for a moment. Like friends? We don’t own them, they don’t belong to us, but we still wish we could keep them close.”

“That’s a weird analogy,” Iwaizumi teases you and you can’t help but laugh about it. “Yeah, but it’s late, so I’ll blame it on that.”

Your apartment block appears in front of you. You stop, not wanting the time to end. A small white face appears in your living room window, peering down at you.

“Do you own a ghost?” Iwaizumi asks and you laugh. “No, that’s my kitten. She’s got a black body and a white head, so I named her Onigiri.”

It’s his turn to laugh. “You are quite creative with names. But I guess Onigiri wants you to come inside, so I won’t keep you any longer.”

It’s as awkward as it is not, to stand in front of each other, unsure on how to say goodbye. It’s Iwaizumi. It’s Iwaizumi.

When he hugs you, you wish he would have kissed you but you still sink into his arms like you always do, trying to imprint his warmth into your skin to last you until next Friday.

…

That night you can’t fall asleep.

Around midnight you find yourself in front of your computer, typing away, too tired to really think about the words flowing from your fingertips. But there are cicadas and little boys and doors leading to nowhere and everywhere at all.

“Welcome to Onigiri Miya!” You burst out, a little breathless from running. Just seconds ago you’d been helping Myamura in the backroom when the bell over the door alerted you of new customers. Iwaizumi’s grinning and you can feel your own lips pull into a wide smile at his sight, your hands already moving to grasp his.

“I’ve got something for you!” You tell him before you can back out, glad that he came in alone today, just like you hoped he would. After all, it’s not Friday.

“Really? But I have nothing for you-” He starts, breaking off when you come back. “Is that a book?”

“Yes. Well, a manuscript, you could say. I wanted you to read it first. It’s a little silly and I might not sell it after all, because, you know, the whole thing about Godzilla-”

“You didn’t?!” His voice flips a little, his eyes wide. “You really wrote that silly little thing I mentioned?”

“Not silly at all!” You promise, still beaming. “I’m still working on a title, but I think “My best friend Godzilla” is a strong contender.”

Before you can react, think, feel even, Iwaizumi pulls you into a crushing hug. Your head sinks against his shoulder like it’s an instinct, like your body instantly knows where it belongs.

You could have stayed there longer, warm and safe in his embrace, if not for Osamu pointedly clearing his throat behind you.

“Oh, shit, sorry,” you pull back, “I was supposed to help Myamura.”

“Are you staying?” Osamu asks Iwaizumi over your head, handy busy as he speaks. Iwaizumi shakes his head and you feel your heart drop a little before he turns back to you with an apologetic smile.

“I’ll see you on Friday. I’ll try to finish the book until then.”

“Oh, you don’t have-”

“I do.” He leans forward, pressing his lips against your temple in a move bolder than anything else he’s done before. You freeze and when he pulls away, his face is flushed and his voice hoarse as he bids you goodbye.

Osamu’s sending you a look that you pointedly ignore, skipping down the hallway to where Myamura’s waiting for you. Your heart’s somewhere in Iwaizumi’s back pocket, beating as fast as a hummingbirds wing as it follows him wherever he goes.

“Closing up?” Iwaizumi’s voice reaches you where you’re currently wiping the tables, exhaustion pulling on your limbs. His voice is soft and filled with warmth and something else you can only hear when he talks to you.

“What are you doing here?” You ask, surprise evident in your voice. The doors should have been closed already.

“Osamu let me in,” he explains, stepping closer and pulling you into a hug. You sink into the embrace, the way he holds you threatening to put you to sleep.

“What are you doing here, though?” You ask again, trying to fight the exhaustion. “It’s not even Friday yet.”

“I finished the book. I wanted to talk to you about it.”

“Oh?” You pull back, anxiety filling your stomach. Suddenly you’re no longer tired.

His smile sets you at ease. It’s that small smile he gets when he’s proud of something but doesn’t want to boast about it. You’ve seen it happen a lot with the team but never directed at you, never like this.

“Well, I… uh…” You turn around, trying to figure out what else you’ve got to do before you can call it a night.

“You can go home,” Osamu’s voice calls out from the kitchen. “I’ve got it.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m your boss,” he points out, voice much too warm for his choice of words, “Go before I reconsider.”

…

“I never thought I’d get to read a story about a bitter Biologist who befriends Godzilla and learns to love humankind again because of that friendship.”

You laugh. “But you put that idea in my head. Why is it so surprising?”

“Oh, don’t put this on me!” Iwaizumi puts a hand on his heart as he walks and it looks so much like Atsumu’s usual antics that you can’t help but giggle even as he talks on. “I only said it would be cool to see humans from Godzilla’s point of view. You created everything around it.”

“What was the best part?” You ask, nudging his side with your elbow. “Of the story?”

To your surprise he falls quiet, staring up into the night. You can’t see any stars through the fog of millions of streetlights, but somewhere above you they still exist. You look up as well, hoping to find what he’s looking for, hoping to find some calm when your heart’s still beating much too fast, much too far away.

“I might butcher it, but I want to quote it.” He starts and your mouth turns dry when he looks at you like that, like he’s found the stars in your eyes instead of the night sky. “I saw the world as black and white before I met you. Too many wrongs and not enough rights, as if the world had turned into a night sky and one has to squint to make out the little shimmering dots of good in the blackness of bad. But you turned the night into morning, black into the soft lavender hues of a sun rising.”

“Hajime,” you breathe out and his lips pull into a smile you’ve never seen before. It’s wide and daring but softer than anything you’ve ever seen before.

“I love your book,” he says, voice strong and confident now, “Because you put into words what I felt but didn’t know how to explain. And you told me how you felt too.”

“I-I did?”

His hands take yours, his skin warm, his hold strong. There’s something like amusement shimmering in his eyes.

“Somewhere in the middle of the book you messed up. Our bitter Biologist was suddenly named Hajime. I can believe some coincidences but not this one.”

You swallow thickly. He pulls you forward and you sink into him like it was always meant to be. His lips press against your temple and you wonder, not for the first time, how one step to the left can lead you down the right path all along.

#my writing #Iwaizumi x reader #Iwaizumi Hajime #Team Japan #Iwaizumi fluff #Iwa-chan #Onigiri Miya #Osamu is the best wingman #Haikyuu fluff #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu!!

173 notes · View notes

noyasmashing · 1 month

Text

Setting Up Love: Asking Haikyuu!! Characters Out

CW: Nishinoya, Yamaguchi, Kenma, Sugawara, lots of blushing, no nsfw this time!

A/N: Been dying to write about more Kenma so ofc I had to sneak him in there

Nishinoya: If Nishinoya had a crush on you, he'd be completely delusional about it, and to make matters worse, Tanaka would only encourage him. Did you ask him what day it was in class? Yep, according to him, you're head over heels but too shy to admit it.

And despite all his bravado, he'd be utterly taken aback if you asked him out on a date. Picture red ears, stuttering words, and avoiding your gaze out of sheer nerves.

Once you're deep in conversation on your date, he'd start with the cheesiest pickup lines. If you happened to bite your lip, he'd insist on kissing it better. I wouldn't be surprised if this man proposed to you with a candy ring pop.

But when it's just the two of you, his confident façade would vanish. He'd become all whiny and desperate for your touch. Pinning him against a wall and kissing him would literally make his knees buckle.

Yamaguchi: While Yamaguchi tends to be shy around others, he can become quite chatty when you catch him alone without Tsukishima around. I have a feeling he'd be really into J-pop/K-pop, so if you share that interest, you guys would hit it off instantly.

When you started talking more, he might have assumed it was because you liked Tsukishima. But if you were to ask him on a date? Oh boy, he'd be giggling all shyly.

Of course, he'd probably suggest going to a cafe or an arcade. A cafe date would feel incredibly romantic to him—sitting across from you, sipping a warm latte, engaging in good conversation—it would make him weak in the knees.

Walking him home after and planting a kiss on his lips would catch him off guard. He'd be nervous, worried you might think he's inexperienced and tease him, so he'd try to act like he knows what he's doing.

But if you were to place a hand on his hip and deepen the kiss, he'd pull away, confessing that he likes you so much, and he’s scared that you might not like him back if he’s a bad kisser.

Hinata: Even if Hinata was head over heels for you, that poor boy can be incredibly clueless. Lost in the world of volleyball, if you suggest doing something together, he might just ask you to set for him. 🤦‍♀️

Later on, when someone finally clues him in that you were hinting at something romantic, he'd feel so bad! He'd show up at your desk with your favorite drink and candy in hand, suggesting to go downtown for some fun shopping!

When you guys do go out in public, he'd get incredibly bashful if you wanted to hold his hand. A cool, pretty person like you wanting to hold him?? He'd be over the moon. When you two lock hands or even just link pinkies, he'd feel so calm and secure, never wanting to let go.

Kenma: Kenma could be silently obsessed with you for years without saying a word. It'd be incredibly hard to read him, making it tough to decide whether to make a move.

But when you finally do, he'd give you the warmest smile that instantly erases any doubts you had. However, being shy, he'd prefer to do something at home.

He'd absolutely love baking with you! Creating silly cakes resembling Minecraft or another video game he's into would be a blast for him, and it'd be quite humorous too!

Once your creations are ready for tasting, he'd become shy if you tried to feed him. He couldn't help feeling mushy and embarrassed as he opened his lips for a bite. And if you swiped frosting off his cheek? His whole face would turn red, and he'd want to curl up into a ball.

Sugawara: Sugawara often struggles with feeling like less of a teammate for not being in the starting lineup. So, receiving special attention from someone as attractive and cool in his eyes as you would completely blow his mind.

If you were to ask him to spend quality time together? He'd plan the sweetest little picnic and nature walk. On the outside, he'd act chill and fun, but deep down, he'd be freaking out.

And if you casually complimented him? Oh boy, his face would turn as red as Tendo's hair, trying not to lose his cool. The way you praise him so casually, as if he should know how amazing he is, makes him feel incredibly special. He'd just want to be wrapped in your arms while you showered him with kisses all over.

233 notes · View notes

lovely-keii · 4 months

Text

being their sibling

characters: tsukishima kei, oikawa tooru, suna rintarou

a/n: i write a fic every time i rewatch hq LOL sorry ik i said im abandoning this blog buuuut…happy bday to this blog!! (repost from 1/5 because tags broke :(( )

part 1

TSUKISHIMA KEI

looks out for you, but he can’t help that hes so emotionally constipated :’( he tries to give you advice because he genuinely is concerned for you but just is unable to word anything properly. see: “you need to stop talking to that person, you’re being a pushover,” but he just wants you to realize you’re letting people walk all over you.

god forbid he has to comfort you because hes the wrong brother for that - you’re definitely in better hands with akiteru. he might walk in on you crying and contemplate if he’ll even say anything or just ignore it flat out, or he’ll say something like “don’t cry, you look stupid.” if you cry more, he’ll end up swallowing his pride and sitting next to you. he’ll groan and reluctantly, “fine, spill it.”

other than that, he’s going to be a sneaky little prick. definitely the type to take revenge on you if you annoy him. you eat the last piece of chocolate he was saving and suddenly you find your charger hidden deep under your bed. also loves to take things without your permission. “why? i’m just using it, it’s not like you need it now.”

if someone picks a fight with you, he’ll be quick to extract you from the situation before saying something ruder and harsher than usual to the person. and if you tell him you like someone from his team, he’s going to look at you like you’re crazy. “are you insane?!” he’s honestly more bewildered than upset. doesn’t let you anywhere near the gym. he can make an exception for yamaguchi though. “at least it’s not hinata…or worse, kageyama.”

OIKAWA TOORU

your life is never boring with this guy as your brother. you’re literally being dragged everywhere, practices, shopping, team events… you’re like “i’m not even part of the team.” he goes “we can fix that!” and the next day you find out that you’re the manager for the boys’ volleyball team. huh, wonder how that happened.

oh my god, he MILKS you being his manager. “hold my drink, my fans are calling.” “y/n get my towel please.” you’re absolutely seething at the power trip that this guy is on. eventually, you start doing all that for his other team members and not for him, and he gets so whiney. “y/n you’ll get big ugly iwaizumi a towel but not your own sweet brother?!” that earns him a spike to the head from iwaizumi.

he tells you all the gossip about the school, because believe me, he knows A LOT of things. he’ll do his skin care while he forces you to listen to his gossip, cue him getting mad if you try to leave. everyone realizes why you two are siblings when you two walk down the halls and pull the exact same faces at the people he’s told you about in his gossip.

he makes you his little scapegoat for his fangirls. “oh, you want my number? you’ll have to ask y/n for that, they keep my phone with them during practice!” (you dont) “now, why don’t you girls hand all these gifts to my lovely sibling for me?” (you almost immediately chuck them at his face when you see him) but you know the best way to get back at him? when he sees you even slightly conversing with ushijima or kageyama, all hell breaks loose.

SUNA RINTAROU

the devil if the devil was your brother. he takes the ugliest pictures of you, when you’re asleep, when you’re yelling, when you’re crying over a movie. he also loves to send you pictures of animals and send a “look at you in this picture, so cute”. he also takes your things without asking and never returns it, you’ll just find it in his bag one day.

he also is one to order you around, and it drives you mad. “pass me the remote, y/n.” “but it’s nearer to you.” “i’ll tell mom that you-” // “y/n get me a drink from the vending machine.” “why would i do that” “remember when you snuck out and i-” // “get my bag too when you get yours.” “no.” “what i post that one picture of you when you’re about to sneeze-”

but he’s always looking out for you. when creeps try to approach you, he’s quick to react by shooting them a nasty glare. he’s a silent kind of care. standing behind you on elevators, walking on the outer side of the sidewalk, staying up late til you come home and just telling you he just couldnt sleep. little do you know, it’s something he’s always done even as a kid. putting more food on your lunch box, holding the corner of tables when you pick something up so you don’t hit your head, returning your things that are sprawled around the house to your room so you don’t lose them.

and if he ever finds you crying over some guy, he sighs and sits down next to you. “why’re you crying over an idiot?” he then makes snappy insults at the expense of the guy, making you laugh. “see? you look better like that. now stop crying and let me get some sleep.” he closes the light and shuts the door on his way out.

#haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu!!#oikawa x reader #tsukishima x reader #oikawa tooru #tsukishima kei #oikawa tooru x reader #tsukishima kei x reader #suna rintarou x reader #suna rintarou #suna x reader

221 notes · View notes

kairismess · 2 months

Note

Hayoo!! Can I request Sakusa enemies to lovers?? I love the man sm :'))

hearts' day 009.

in which kiyoomi's got a soft spot for his favorite pain in the ass.

"i didn't hear a flush."

his deep, stern voice filled your ears as you exited the restroom, with sakusa about to use it next. his dark, wavy hair did nothing to obscure the total judgement he had written all over his face as he scrunched up his eyebrows and nose, practically glaring down at you as you exited the washroom with... wet hands, much to his disdain.

"...and you didn't even dry your hands?" he asked you with a slight scoff in his tone as his gaze darkened. you sighed and unceremoniously wiped your hands on your shirt, making sakusa part himself away from you even more. "that's even worse." "you're quite chatty today, omi, don't tell me you picked today to be a huge bitch." you retorted with a sly smile on your face, taunting him as he sprayed some sanitizer on his hands before opening the door to the comfort room.

"it appears your hands aren't the only body part you need cleaning today. i have a good mouthwash i could recommend you, i feel like you'll be needing it." he spoke with a condescending tone as he glared at you from underneath his dark bangs.

"and i think you need some bug killing spray. not for the roaches in the locker room, but for the pest i see in front of me right now." you retaliated, smiling widely and innocently as a vein popped up on sakusa's temple.

he wordlessly shut the door to the comfort room to do his business, making you chuckle a little under your breath as you mentally tallied your score against him for the 'greatest comebacks of all time' (in which, he was in the lead by about... 5 points).

you didn't exactly loathe sakusa, it was just so much fun to piss him off and make him walk away. he was always an interesting guy to you, just a little bit of... 'a bitch', as you loved to call him. to sakusa, you annoyed him more than the three thorns by his side: bokuto, hinata, and atsumu–and that was a great feat, because nobody in the history of ever has provoked sakusa to continuously answer back and one-up you more than they have.

you made sakusa feel like there was a little more to life than going to volleyball games, fan meet-ups (which he barely attended anyway), and just... anything else. you gave him some spice in his life, and though he had a preference for the bland, everyday he was so used to, it felt nice to have a little kick in his day when you start it off by giving him a backhanded compliment or a sly middle finger with a cute smile on your face.

when he entered the team's gym one day and didn't see you in your usual spot by the treadmills at the usual time you were there. he found it a little strange, but decided not to question it; he decided to text you after his training.

and true to his word, he had a brown paper bag full of bottled waters, fruits, and vitamin supplements. he handed you your favorite scented spray of his, he only knew it was your favorite when you asked him if he was wearing any perfume or where he got that scent from and presumed you took a liking to it.

you told sakusa weakly, and repeatedly, that you didn't need any help, that you were fine, despite being stuck to your bed and coughing and sneezing up a storm. "just shut up and let me take care of you. i'll help you get back to your snarky little self in a few days." he said with a softer voice than normal, about to spoon-feed you some homemade chicken soup that he made specifically for you.

you felt a little taken aback at his kindness, your eyebrows raising involuntarily at his act of charity. you decided not to fight it and give in to trust him and in his caregiving methods. he was surprisingly gentle with you, for a guy who would constantly chide and judge you to get back at you, he did do a good job of being sweet and caring at times.

maybe you wouldn't mind seeing this gentlemanly side of his more often now...

276 notes · View notes

irisintheafterglow · 5 months

Text

it's no secret that olympic athlete!sakusa despises parties. you don't make it easier on him, especially during the jackals' annual holiday party.

cw: a little suggestive toward the end but nothing explicit (he does things to me can you blame me)

he was in hell. the table was too loud, the people were too loud, and he couldn't find you. to make matters worse, his teammates seemed to be hellbent on catching you and him under the mistletoe.

"i swear, i'm going to shove a candy cane so far up your-"

"hey, no vulgarity! it's christmas," atsumu cuts in with a mischievous sparkle in his eye. the effects of the spiked eggnog in his cup were obvious, much to sakusa's disgust. "plus, objects shoved up our lovely posteriors would impede our mission for the night." snickers run through the remainder of the group, drowned out immediately by the chatter of the party. even though it was tradition and the most talked about event for months, it still didn't make the atmosphere any less hell-like.

"and then i'm going to hide your bodies so well, the police won't even know where to look," sakusa continues, sending them a glare over the rim of his soju bottle. his friends watch his eyes flick over the faces in the crowd, searching the shut-down hotel restaurant for whom they could only assume was you.

"yeah, yeah, then you'll be at our funerals with the fake tears running rampant and telling our mothers how great we were. we've heard this spiel before," bokuto dismisses with a wave of his hand and a knowing smirk on his face. "just you wait. you'll be thanking us later, lover boy."

"i hate you all," he replies, registering the journalist's approach seconds before she arrives at their table. "media," he warns quietly. "don't do anything dumb."

"evening, boys," she greets a split second later, shrewd eyes raking over the group. sakusa tries to keep his grimace off his face. the task proves difficult, though, when he can practically hear atsumu set his sights on charming her by the end of the night. "mind if i snap a picture of you all looking so handsome?" atsumu clumsily sputters out an answer, resting an arm around hinata's shoulders and forcefully pulling sakusa closer as bokuto smiles wide enough to cover the entire frame. a click and a familiar blinding flash later, the image is taken and he tenses in anticipation of the inevitable follow-up conversation. "so, how are you boys feeling tonight? enjoying the party?"

"we are," hinata answers before anyone can stop him from accepting the invitation for questions. "we were just talking about our plans for the rest of the evening."

"yep, involving sakusa and the mistletoe. he doesn't want us to say that, though," bokuto whispers at the same volume he normally speaks.

"oh? do tell more." her eyes shine like a piranha's and it makes sakusa's stomach turn. "who's the lucky lady? i'd love to get her side of all this, too." a clever batting of her eyelashes toward atsumu has him nearly crawling over the table to answer her.

"you're gonna love this, ma'am. the one sakusa's been after is-"

"this isn't a press event, so i'd advise you enjoy the rest of the festivities. thank you for your time," sakusa informs her flatly, much to the dismay of his teammates. he was never one for interviews, much less team ones, and catching him off-guard at a party was a surefire way of pissing him off. it was a golden opportunity for her, yes, but one more question out of her lipsticked mouth would force him to take a walk. "enjoy the party."

"wait, but-"

"omi? d'you mind walking me to the car real quick? i forgot my chapstick and the cold is making my lips dry." a gentle hand on sakusa's shoulder instantly eases any tension in his body and he hopes you can feel the gratitude radiating from him. it takes him a moment to collect himself enough to stand, curtly excuse himself from the table, and walk with you toward the door. his fingers intertwine with yours as your shoes click across the marble tiles of the hotel lobby, pulling you closer when you step into the winter night. "did you like my little rescue? i've been working on my acting skills," you ask with a small smile once you're finally away from prying eyes and nosy ears.

"i'll make space on the bookshelf for your academy award. and yes, more than you'll ever understand," he exhales, slowing your pace while he waves down the valet to retrieve his car. "i only wish you got there sooner."

"and caused more drama? i would think a volleyball player understands that timing is everything," you tease, brushing a stray curl from his face and running your thumb across his cheekbone. "i can't blame her, though. you do look ridiculously good tonight." his ears become the slightest shade pinker and you can't hide your giggle at his embarrassment. he never was the best with words, nor did he outwardly show a lot of emotion. but, after knowing him for so long, you found that the right words could have him in a puddle before you in less than a few sentences.

"speak for yourself," he counters in a tone low enough to give you goosebumps, ones that weren't from the chilly air. "it's been a struggle to keep my hands to myself for a few hours." his hand snakes across your lower back and grabs you by your waist, closing any remaining space between your bodies. he tracks the way your fingers dig around your bag, how you're conveniently avoiding his eyes just to drive him even more mad. "what're you doing, dove?"

"grabbing my chapstick," you reply nonchalantly, popping off the cap and swiping it across your bottom lip a few times. his eyes burn on your skin and you sneak a glance at his face to find his pupils blown to the size of ornaments. you were really testing his resolve tonight. "what, you really think i'd go anywhere without this?"

"no," he admits, eyeing his car as it pulled into the roundabout. "i knew that was bullshit from the moment you walked up to the table. the guys probably knew it, too."

"you think that lady knew it?"

"no way, unless hinata's lips got loose." on instinct, you step into the passenger's side after he opens the door.

"can you imagine the headline? 'stats analyst steals away star hitter during the middle of a holiday interview. dive into the rumors of sakusa's secret relationship!' i'd never hear the end of it," you chuckle once he slides into the driver's seat. with the heater blasted and the seat warmer turned all the way up, you suddenly remember why you're in the car in the first place. "wait, shouldn't we go back inside?"

"why should we?" a dangerous glint appears in your boyfriend's eyes and you're thankful for the darkness that hid your warming face. "i've got all i need right here." with one more glance to make sure all the windows were rolled up, he finally leans over and presses his lips to yours. with a sigh, you let his hand wander over your leg, lightly stopping its trajectory with a hum when it creeps closer to your inner thigh. "too much? we can go back in if you don't wanna bail yet."

"no, i'm okay. i know you're ready to go, too," you murmur. even before you were officially in a relationship, there existed a silent understanding that, when one of you got tired of socializing, the other would be their excuse to leave. "tell the boys we got food poisoning from shrimp cocktail."

"neither of us ate the shrimp cocktail."

"who's gonna know? don't you wanna go home?" the jerk of the key in the ignition is the answer you receive, followed by the engine roaring to life. "i'll consider that a yes. it's a shame i have to hang up this outfit early, though. i do like it a lot." you unsuccessfully attempt to fake a frown, pulling at the expensive fabric of your party clothes. it was half the truth, but the other half of the truth stayed unspoken while his hand laid itself back on your thigh as he left the hotel in the dust.

"don't worry," he mutters without taking his eyes of the road. "i'll help you take it off."

if you enjoy my writing and would like to support me, you can buy me a coffee on my ko-fi! you can also check out my full masterlist here :)

#sakusa x you #sakusa x reader #sakusa x y/n #sakusa kiyoomi x reader #sakusa kiyoomi x you #sakusa kiyoomi x y/n #haikyu x you #haikyu x reader #haikyu x y/n #msby x you #msby x reader #msby x y/n #haikyu fluff

352 notes · View notes

beestandsforbiancanottheanimal · 2 months

Text

Thinking about how lonely Kageyama must have felt, probably accustomed to almost no one sharing the same passion for volleyball as intensely as he does. Always being a peculiar outcast in that aspect, likely cherishing it as something he used to share with his family when he was little, only for his sister to abandon him. Even then, he probably thought he still had his grandfather, only for the grandfather to pass away. Yet, he continued with the same dedication, not reducing the effort he put into the sport just because it was what he loved and something that connected him to his now-deceased grandfather. He probably didn't allow himself to properly grieve and overcome it due to this.

Worse still, this event serves to make him even more alone because his behavior starts to change, and it's evident that it changes drastically. His teammates, instead of being concerned and asking about it, preferred to get angry and leave him aside, to the point of getting him benched in a match. They practically ruined one of the few positive things in his life at that moment.

And how crucial it was for him to meet Hinata, someone with exactly the same level of passion and dedication, willing to play with him despite everything. Hinata saw his bad behavior and didn't reject him but adapted to it. Later on, he even helped Kageyama accept that part of himself, to stop living in constant fear of history repeating itself, and to embrace his role and attitude as the "king of the court."

Meeting Hinata and realizing that he is the person his grandfather promised must have been the first time in Kageyama's life that he felt 100% understood. As an autistic person, I can confirm how beautiful it is to meet someone and realize that they understand you, know who you are, and are probably mostly the same. Even in the aspects where you're not similar, it doesn't matter because they accept and love you just the way you are.

And now, he knows that he doesn't have to live in fear or feel like he doesn't fit in or that he'll always be alone in his bubble.

#i have a lot of thoughts about kageyama and kagehina if you haven't noticed #and feelings #i have LOTS of feelings about them #haikyuu #kagehina #kageyama tobio #hinata shouyou

152 notes · View notes

atomicvoidjellyfish · 23 days

Text

HOW KARASUNO BOYS REACT!!!

TO YOUR STRUGGLES DURING THAT TIME OF THE MONTH! FLUFFY HEADCANONS

Includes: Dachi, Sugawara, Asahi, Tanaka, Nishinoya, Tuskishima, Kageyama, Tadashi and Hinata

~ Dachi sawamura ~

• Dachi is all around a confident, sweet and tallented guy when it come to understanding his team mates and what they need. Thats the same for you in your times of need.

• He would happily carry extra sanitary items in case you need them and a couple bars of your favourite chocolate.

• Dachi sadly knows he can't do heaps about the pain, tiredness or you mood swings. But he knows how to make things better and to help you preserver.

• Dachi is very gentle and highly aware about how you might react to certain things. He understand women are emotional creatures and small things can really upset you.

• He's more touchy especially when he can see how much it affects you're well being, he give you great big bear hugs and regularly checks in on you.

• After school he'd invite you out do a in-home movie and eat take away for your choice. He loves cuddling you up and keeping you safe. He truly just wants you to be happy.

~ Sugawara Koushi ~

• Suga reminds you of sugar very very sweet and he knows the things you really need to hear during that time. He's always happy to reassurance you over any little thing.

• His voice is so soft takes a lot of pain away. While holding you he will whisper sweet nothings in you ear. Reminding you of how beautiful you are, that your amazing and how lucky he is to have you.

• Suga loves giving you lots of sweet kisses, on you cheeks, your forehead and you lil nose too

• He can also be surprisingly protect when it come to situations that make you uncomfortable, crowds of people, foods you crave ect

• He'll rub your back and pull you in close, resting is chin on your head. He knows its hard and upsetting the things you think about an go through

• Suga complements you more and understand the importance of you feeling treasured, beautiful and desired by him. He sees you looking in the mirror a lot more studying yourself. He'll approach you from behind wraps his arms around your waist and give you back kisses. He's eyes are soft yet still filled with desire that never fails to make you smile.

~ Asahi Azumane ~

• Asahi would over think like crazy he easily starts stressing out when it comes to you. Still he's very sweet you give him little hints to help him along. It makes him feel really good to know he can help you.

• He'd cray your bags knowing that your back hurts. He'd be worried so much he would walk you home to make sure you don't faint or fall or have anything happen to you.

• Being the ace he can get quite a few injuries so he regularly caries pain meds, tape, soothing gels and other items. He always encourages you to use them knowing they help.

• Asahi always give you his jacket he remembers the thing you said about being cold and how it can make things worse. The school uniform being a skirt doesn't help.

• Asahi thinks about you a lot in class, about how your going, what your feeling, in your in pain or maybe if you've gone to the med bay. Constantly stressing himself out (poor guy). He's always waiting near you locker and his eyes light up whenever he sees you.

• You often reassure him that your fine. Asahi's mom is also very sweet yes he's a mamas boy. But she'll happily cook extra food for you two to share and here food makes everything a lot better.

~ Tanaka Ryuunosuke ~

• If menstral cycles were a person you best bet Tanaka is pulling up and he's bring Nishinoya

• Tanka is a very unique, cool, rambunctious person so he would handle the situation a lot differently. He would want to make you feel better by going out and having fun, movies, the park, the beach anything to get you out an about. This can cause arguments sometimes as you'er often tired, moody and don't feel the best.

• Tanka would feel bad but you always lay him down in your lap, he cuddles up to you around waist. Which is good as he keeps you warm.

• He'd get curious as ask you questions about your cycle, which was cute, he's trying to better understand your problems and think about a better solution.

• Tanka would even go as far to ask Kyoko or Kanoka about what helps and what things he could get for you.

• He's not a cook but he'd always make sure your warm, have enough blankets, a hot water bottle and some warm ramen noodles.

• The thing Tanka always did be is make you feel real special and try his best to make you smile and laugh. He'd complement you, your a greek goddess, the women who owns the planet venus and unofficial victorian secret super model.

• Tanka makes sure that you enjoy life whilst your with him and to be the best boyfriend he can possible be.

~ Nishinoya Yuu ~

• Nishinoya is vastly misunderstood, you'd think he's immature and a big ball of energy that seems clueless and not that smart but he's far from that.

• With all that energy and viciousness he can feel a lot of emotions he's just more reserved as most guys are. But he can understand when you have really bad down days.

• You'd see a completely different side of him that very few people see. He calm, soft, gentle and soothing.

• He gives you long warm hugs as he will rock you in his embrace. In that way he was very much your safe place. You could tell him anything and he would understand. Having his issue with height and the fall out the volley ball team had he went through is own pains. Giving up the sport he loved took a toll on him and the fight with Asahi.

• In a way it was always a good way for you two to bond and reinforce trust, that you were there for each other on a much deeper level.

• Nishinoya would happily share all his food with you, make sure your well feed and that he doesn't keep you up late over night texting. He just wants you to get better as quickly as possible.

• The talk of blood and cycle is still a bit odd and foreign to him but he doesn't like the thought that you could literally bleed to death so he does what he can.

~ Tuskishima Kei ~

• Tuskishima is generally pretty mono toned he doesn't over display any kind of care and the sarcasm doesn't help. This is just a part of his personality. Sometimes it can cause arguments as you feel like he isn't taking you seriously and it really hurts sometimes.

• He'd realise how much your hurting and that he really messed up. You'd open up your locker and find little notes sometimes hand written letters.

• He hold your hand talking the long walk home after school, he was never good at apologising but you understood he was sorry.

• It taught him how to be a little more gentle with you, to understand you a bit better and to think before saying things to you.

• He'd slowly become a lot more affectionate, pulling you into his arms and cuddling you up in his arms. He shudder trying open up and tell you about things. What he thinks about you and the things he hopes to do with you one day.

• Tuskishima after realising how horrible both mentally and physically you feel. He always make sure there was time for you, time for him to listen.

• When your really sad he ask you over to his house introduce you to his mom one of the most kindest and beautiful being in his life other then you of course.

• You both playing a couple games together and you'd learn it actually likes reading. He loved how smart you are and how you could hold a conversation about topics that interest him.

• It helped you take time of things, you learned more about each others passions and found out you have a lot more income than you think.

~ Tobio kageyama ~

• Honestly Kageyama can be a bit naive and hot headed, he struggles a lot when it comes to understanding your predicament. He can get a bit annoyed with you moods and complaining. This can cause some pretty heated fights.

• But Kageyama can be a big fat meanie, all that frustration and anger also leads to a lot of thought, overthinking, over apologising and regret. Kageyama never wants to be a bad person especially to you.

• Kageyama would take on multiple strategies on how to keep you happy always. If you mad or angry Kageyama would mind some rough play cuddles, you never manage to hurt him. If your sad he's bringing chocolate or your favourite ice cream. If you don't feel your best he'll make an effort to be more soft with you in ever way.

• He always brings you a Milk box encourages you to drink it all. Saying it's packed in everything that you need to feel better, stronger and heal faster.

• He's the type of guy to cuddle you up, zip his jumper up real tight on a cold rain walk home. Wrap you up in a scarf, he's scared of you catching a cold obviously cause he cares about you but also cause he doesn't want to be sick either.

• Kageyama needs you a lot he wont admit it, you always manage to make him feel better and he's an over-thinker. He stresses out way to much, your his peace and he loves you for all the endless lap cuddles and hair play. He just hopes he can do the same for you.

~ Tadashi Yamaguchi ~

• Tadashi gets so incredibly worried and stress about you! He would refuse to leave you empathising with how hard the week can be for you.

• He'd make sure that there is plenty of time to spend with you. Going out to cafe's in the mornings before school or bringing you some delicious food to share from bread top!

• Tadashi is a bundle of fluff, he's the guy to keep your hands warm offer his jacket and open doors for you. A very sweet gentlemen.

• He loves to play games and cuddle up on the couch with tones of blankets or watch a movie marathon. Some hot chocolate or some salty popcorn solves everything.

• You favourite thing about Tadashi was the beauty in his eyes. He wears his heart on his sleeve. You love the warmth he just radiates, he looks at you with nothing but love and softness. You can open up to him about anything and he always tries to understand.

~ Shoyo Hinata ~

• Hinata is defiantly clueless upon telling him more details. He stress like really bad, faint, dye or blow his head off. He would literally think your DIEING!! or that you were gonna DIE!!

• Hinata just over thinks being the sweet guy he is all he needs to do is say hello! He's your lil sunshine always makes you feel better with just a smiles.

• When he see's your having a really bad day he invites you over. Yourself and his little sister Natsu have grown really close. Natsu is always excited to see you! She'd play with your hair, paint your nails ect.

• Hinata's mom is super sweet she always make sure to cook up one of your many favourite meals. She gets warm and fuzzy seeing you an Hinata together.

• You often get invited out to family events, shopping, dinner, camping ect. Your all very close and Hinata is always there hyping you up the whole way.

• He pushes your bounders in a good way, making you do things you never think you could! So when that time comes around you always feel extra special not just to yourself but to Hinata too.

Thanks so much for reading,!!! Let me know if you have any requests!!

100 notes · View notes

creative-crybaby · 1 year

Text

Fly on the Wall

PAIRING: yan!timeskip!Sakusa Kiyoomi x fem!reader

GENRE: smut | dark content (18+)

Minors DNI

TAGS + WARNINGS: yandere themes, noncon, stalking, somnophilia, semi-public masturbation (m), nipple play, fingering (with leather gloves), dacryphilia, cum eating, creampie, size kink, breaking and entering, panty stealing, basically Sakusa is a perv

Let me know if I missed anything.

WORD COUNT: 8.7k

SUMMARY: The new Black Jackal’s manager catches Sakusa’s eye. Unfortunately, whatever distance, physical or otherwise, is between you two, is too far for his liking. All characters are 18+

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Not meant to be a Christmas gift, but my timing does wonders, I guess :/

The Black Jackals getting a manager didn’t excite him the way it did his teammates. The idea itself didn’t bring him dread, of course, but the knowledge that certain players may get distracted–or worse: rowdier–brought more stress to him than he’d appreciate.

Bokuto and Hinata were already babbling on to each other about what you might be like, reminiscing their high school days when they both had two managers on their respective teams. Atsumu joined in, whining that Inarizaki wasn’t as lucky to have a girl manager, let alone two attractive ones. He also bet that you’d be cute—Sakusa could only roll his eyes at the exchange.

You carried yourself with a grace often unfound in volleyball when meeting the team, offering a polite smile as you introduced yourself. Even when bombarded with questions from the boisterous ones (you know the ones), you didn’t falter, even assuring Meian that you didn’t mind the energy: “It’s nice to know I’ll be supporting a passionate team.”

Pretty, Sakusa thinks. You didn’t blow him away, but it was enough for him to acknowledge upon first laying eyes on you. Even he found himself momentarily frozen when you two made brief eye contact.

Regardless, you’re not here for a modelling contract; you’re here to help the team grow to its full potential. The wing spiker may not be praying for your downfall, but he certainly isn’t going to celebrate your arrival too soon, either.

Anyone can refill water bottles and hand out clean towels to sweaty giants. The same goes for taking notes on their progress, especially since you should know how volleyball works. From what Sakusa has observed, you do more than well in that department, too, always ready to correct someone’s form or have a report prepared for Meian in no time. You’re organized, punctual; it helps that you also sprinkle in some encouraging words when necessary. (Certain members are more than happy to gain that praise, which means more headaches on the ravenette’s end.)

It doesn’t take long for you to get him to accept you into the team—in his own way. He doesn’t avoid you like the plague, per se; he merely never saw any reason to put in as much effort to get to know you the way someone like Bokuto or Atsumu would. He was just glad to have one more person to give him some proper feedback.

That distance Sakusa created is seemingly one-sided. There’s no special occasion, either: it was after a practice that partook a few days after a game against the Tachibana Red Falcons. A close match where the Black Jackals managed to pull through, though that wasn’t precisely what consumed the wing spiker’s thoughts at the time. You handed him a neatly folded towel during the athletes’ break, and he nods his thanks. You stay before him, and he peers up at you curiously after wiping his face. Stretching your hand to him, you carry a mini hand sanitizer pack. Nothing special: it’s a standard bottle in a dark red and attachable case.

“Noticed you weren’t a fan of the gifts from some of your fans and would look grossed out when a kid would touch you,” you explain, offering a small smile. “Hope you don’t already have one of these. This was the only normal-looking one I could find. Wasn’t sure how you’d feel about having a giraffe case dangling from your bag.”

You offer a sheepish laugh that Sakusa would refuse to admit is something he’d want to hear again. Not wanting to leave you hanging any longer than he already has, he takes your gift, eventually muttering his thanks.

It’s like a boy clinging onto that one compliment he got a few years back because it’s all he received. A rational voice in his head dismisses your observation as something someone on the team probably mentioned to you—maybe Atsumu made a joke about him being a germaphobe, and you took it seriously.

Still, that’s not a possibility the wing spiker wants to entertain. Not as he goes on with the rest of practice, not when he’s in the changeroom, not when he’s attaching that case to his gym bag, not when he gets home, and certainly not when he goes to bed that night. A small gesture, one probably wouldn’t overthink, lingers in his thoughts until Occasion #2 appears.

Coming back from an away game is one of the few opportunities the volleyball players get to recharge. After packing everything into the bus, each member sits in their unassigned-assigned seat. Or, at least, most of them would. Some chose to sit wherever it was convenient for them: they wanted to carry on their conversation with one of their teammates or maybe get some shut-eye. Sakusa was the latter, opting for a window seat far away from his boisterous colleagues as possible. Ready to close his eyes, he only got a few seconds of relaxation before he sensed some shifting next to him. With furrowed brows, he opens his eyes, ready to tell Atsumu off (let’s be honest, it’s always Atsumu), only to find you making yourself comfortable in the spot next to his instead.

You turn to him somewhat sheepishly. “Hope you don’t mind. I wanted to get some rest, and you’re pretty quiet, so I figured having you as my seating buddy was my best shot.”

You don’t say anything afterwards, waiting for him to tell you to leave him alone. To his surprise (and yours, he’s sure), the wing spiker mumbles a stoic “Go ahead,” his eyes trailing towards the window as he readjusts his mask. Even with his gaze no longer on you, he could hear the smile in your voice as you thank him.

For the next several hours, Sakusa remained awake, thinking about everything and nothing all at once as he’d glance over to your sleeping form every few minutes. Even people like Bokuto and Hinata lost enough energy to fall asleep, but the ravenette didn’t notice. If anything, his entire world dissolved into nothingness as soon as your frame unconsciously leaned on his shoulder. His whole body froze, but surprisingly, not out of disgust. Awkward, perhaps, but he didn’t feel the need to wake you up, let alone push you away.

His senses heightened. With you so much closer, his eyes scanned every detail your face had to offer, every reaction you had in your sleep, from stirring after hitting a speedbump to sighing whenever Saksua dared to take a breath too deep. Speaking of breathing, even with yours being so shallow, he can hear the steady rhythm loud and clear, despite Bokuto’s snoring somewhere in the distance. Your scent attacked his nose, even with the mask shielding most of his face, and he can at least admit to himself that it was refreshing to smell something that wasn’t a bunch of sweaty athletes. It’s just your head on his shoulder, but the ravenette felt you burning your mark into his skin, one he didn’t ever want to wash off. Every sense except for taste—

A speed bump. The last thought retreated as fast as it invaded. The remaining hour and a half to return home flew by with his guilt as a distraction. Even when Atsumu woke up and teased the wing spiker for trying to get close to you, Sakusa didn’t feel the need to reply. He merely looked down at your still-sleeping form for several seconds more before eventually trying to wake you up. He’d rather he didn’t, but something about others seeing you in such a vulnerable state irked him in a way he can only describe as filthy. No amount of water and hand soap can scrub away that dirt, but as soon as your eyes opened and met his before anyone else’s, that itch got scratched. He didn’t register your profuse apologies until a couple of other teammates decided to join in on the teasing, and suddenly Sakusa found his voice.

“It’s fine.”

But it wasn’t fine. And it still isn’t. Maybe you forgot about it or saw that moment as a funny story to share over drinks with friends, but it’s different for the wing spiker. He knows it shouldn’t be, yet here he is, replaying every minor interaction between the two of you. There was a reason for him keeping his distance from you when you first started: you both stick to your tasks during practice and games, only interacting when progress and strategy are the focus. Otherwise, the athlete is back in whatever vacant corner he can find, shrinking his almost 6’’4 frame as much as he can in hopes that he can avoid possible interactions. (And if that means he gets to watch you laugh at something Atsumu said or go over strategy with Meian, then those times in his hiding spot have come with new benefits.)

But he’s not in a corner right now: he’s at Onigiri Miya with his team and EJP Raijin, eyes boring into your frame as his cousin says something he doesn’t quite catch.

The ravenette hums. “What was that?”

“Your new manager’s pretty cute and all,” Komori starts, not too loudly for others to hear, “but if you keep staring at her, you’re going to look like some creep.” Sakusa’s head snaps to the libero, who sheepishly smiles as he scratches the back of his neck. “I mean, I get that you were never all that good with girls, but even you should know this stuff by now.”

The wing spiker scoffs at his cousin’s joke, opting to take a bite out of his onigiri instead of replying. You’re listening to whatever story the blonde Miya twin has to share, laughing whenever the younger one butts in with commentary to embarrass the former. Now you watch in amusement as the two lookalikes bicker, and it makes Sakusa realize something: besides the few moments he recalls oh-so fondly, you don’t interact with each other much outside of volleyball.

He glides his thumb across the nori on his food in irritation. The moments shared between you rarely involve anything outside of the sport. For someone as observant as him, the ravenette is almost ashamed he let his very few one-on-one memories of you two distract him from such an obvious (and somewhat embarrassing) fact.

You’ve probably spent more time with a handful of his other teammates. Sakusa recalls Bokuto and Hinata inviting you to a movie marathon at the latter’s place on your day off, though through all that excitement exchanged between them, all he could do was mutter under his breath about them wasting your time. It probably doesn’t matter whether or not you accepted their offer; they still approached you.

The same goes for whatever Atsumu says to you that makes you two snicker under your breaths. Inside jokes, Sakusa is sure of it, though it doesn’t make him scoff any less. If anything, his mood grew sour with every interaction you had that wasn’t with him. Another fact he wasn’t aware of until the blonde setter asked him if the stick up his ass was bigger than it used to be. (The wing spiker’s response to the harmless joke needn’t be shared.)

“Just talk to her.” Komori’s voice brings Sakusa back to Onigiri Miya. Staring; again. Lovely. The ravenette faces his cheerful cousin once more, who offers a chuckle. “I’ll even play wingman if you want.”

The quieter of the two finishes his onigiri before getting up from his seat. The libero watches as his relative puts his MSBY jersey on before heading for the exit. “I’m good, thank you.”

The ravenette risks a glance your way once he makes it to the door. You don’t meet his gaze, still occupied with the twins. No surprise there, but that doesn’t stop the disappointment plunging into his chest as he exits the shop.

That one-sided has seemingly returned since then, though the roles are reversed. Even with the few moments exchanged between you two, Sakusa struggles to pinpoint when he started to care for your attention in the several months you’ve been part of the team. The days when he felt indifferent involved less overthinking and even lesser restless nights; now, he can’t stop nitpicking at whatever detail catches his eye. You styled your hair differently one day; you’re snacking on cheesecake-flavoured Kitkat because it’s your new favourite snack. These notes follow up with nothing on his end except an extra bullet point in his brain’s buzzing list.

It’s a winter evening when he adds his first crucial fact: your home address. An abyss swallows the sky at what seems to be only half past five. Not a usual time for practice, though nothing that disrupted Sakusa’s schedule. He’s making his way to his car when he sees you standing aside, eyes glued to your phone. A rare sight, though not an unwelcomed one.

You’re frowning, the wing spiker notices. He’s approaching you, he notices too little too late. You notice him.

“Oh, Sakusa!” you smile, pocketing your device. “Good work today.” The ravenette doesn’t need his mask to hide his contentment at your praise, though the pride that swells inside him grows challenging to swallow. “Off home to relax?”

His tongue rests between his teeth as he nods, and you hug your coat tighter to your body. His brain screams to carry on a conversation, no matter how small or meaningless, but his eyes seem to do enough as they rake through the parking lot. He’s looking for your car, he realizes, but has no clue as to what it looks like.

“Had to bus here,” you explain sheepishly. Sakusa watches you from the corner of his eye, internally sighing in relief at your (alleged) mind-reading powers. “My car needs fixing, and with practice taking place later on in the day, finding a bus worked better.” Your gaze trails to the streets only a few meters away, exhaustion making them droop. “Guess my supposed ride is being held back, huh?”

“Let me take you home.”

Your head snaps in the wing spiker’s direction, whose eyes slightly widen in shock at his proposition. Now he decides to talk. He digs his nails into the strap of his gym bag, jaw clenching as he tries to appear calm as he awaits your response.

Your brows crease ever so slightly. “I wouldn’t want to cause you any trouble.”

Your voice shrinks at your concern. Sakusa imagines you shrinking under his gaze as well. “You never cause me any trouble.”

Not how he would’ve liked to word it, but it’s too late to take it back. You beam at him, offering your thanks and letting him know you owe him as you step closer to his tall frame. He doesn’t flinch away, instead facing the parking lot once more as he chews on his bottom lip under his mask.

The car ride holds silence throughout the fifteen-to-twenty minutes on his end, with you giving the ravenette directions and discussing the team’s progress. He only offers curt nods and soft hums, not that he minds this time; your sunny tone and presence in such a closed space were more than enough for him. Besides, his brain is occupied with carrying your guidance as you get closer to your destination. Because he’s the driver, and you ought to return home safely. It’s been a long day for both of you: you’re exhausted, and you don’t hide this fact as you slump in the passenger seat and sometimes yawn.

And when you finally tell Sakusa to pull up into your driveway, he can’t help but scan your home with his eyes, wondering which windows expose which room. He sees one with lavender curtains from the interior, and he’s willing to bet that’s your bedroom.

You thank him, and the thought evaporates. He’s tongue-tied once more; he nods, unlocking the passenger door. Offering one more smile, you exit the car, and the wing spiker’s eyes bore into your frame as you walk up your porch and enter your home.

He’s backing out of the driveway when he begins to wonder if there is something different he could have done. The small talk was calming, but he found that he wanted more.

The drive back consists of Sakusa glancing over at where you sat every chance he got. He swallows harshly, fingers tapping impatiently against the steering wheel at a red light. Even with practice done a while ago, he feels hot. His clothes hug him uncomfortably, and it isn’t until his brain entertains the idea of peering down does he understand why.

He recognizes this street. The ravenette pulls over to a secluded area, quick to unbuckle his seatbelt before throwing his mask off. His chest heaves as he slowly looks down once more as if the first time was just a trick of the lights.

He’s hard. Being alone with you for less than half an hour is enough to make him fucking hard.

He’s also alone. For a second, he recalls keeping a pack of tissues in the glove compartment.

He’s also in his car. His home is not too far from yours, he noticed as you gave him directions.

You were also in his car. The passenger seat pulls Sakusa’s gaze towards it. He’s leaning into where you sat not long ago, and if he focuses hard enough, he can catch a whiff of your perfume.

His cock stirs in his slacks, and the ravenette climbs over the gear shift before his brain can reason with his body.

The passenger’s seat is still a bit warm, he notices upon making himself comfortable in his new spot. The wing spiker shakily exhales as he unzips his pants with great haste, shimmying them down to his thighs. His pace doesn’t slow down when he gets to his briefs, either, opting to tuck the waistband between his balls and dick’s base to free his shaft of its confinements. Only then does he pause, breathing still trembling as he tries to calm himself.

There’s not much time. An empty parking lot when he got there, but it won’t stay that way forever. Sakusa spits into his palm, needing some makeshift lube to start slowly stroking himself. The relief has his eyes fluttering closed and lips parting with a sigh. It isn’t long until he feels some precum sliding down from his slit, and he spreads the stickiness to help with his movements. He takes a deep breath through his nose and again catches your scent.

What if it was your hand pumping his cock instead? It should be. You’d be smiling as you do so, peering up at the wing spiker through your lashes as you ask him how he likes it. Always there to help during practice; how is this any different? You want what’s best for the team, for him. Anything for him—

Sakusa’s choking on a groan as he paints his hand and the glove compartment a creamy white. He doesn’t open his eyes until his high finally descends him back to earth, where he realizes what he’s done.

He groans, in both exhaustion and disgust from the mess in his car and thoughts. He was a teenager when he lasted this long, though the quantity of his release takes him by surprise. Has he truly been pent up for too long? Did you do this?

Sakusa’s quick to take out that tissue pack.

You thank him for the ride home once more the next time you see each other at practice. Other than that, the wing spiker continues to keep his distance. Mainly due to the shame that follows remembering what he’s done after dropping you off, but the one time you two shared eye contact for more than a few seconds when you handed him a towel during a break brought another feeling into the mix: excitement. What for, Sakusa has yet to find out. Or maybe he’s trying to avoid that explanation. Like any minute, you’ll tell him, you know, eyelids heavy as the emphasis tells him more than enough of what you’re talking about. The thought makes his lower stomach churn in an agonizing blender. Then, you’ll pull him into the storage closet, where you’ll—

Say his name. Well, no. Not you. Someone else is saying it. Again and again.

The ravenette blinks back into the real world, masking his fantasy with a blank slate for a face as he turns to look at whoever could need something from him.

“Oh, so yer awake?” Atsumu. Of course. “Still got some energy in me, and I need t’kill a bit of time. Wanna set fer ya fer a bit.”

The grin the faux blonde offers isn’t reciprocated as Sakusa notices front the corner of his eye some of his teammates entering the changeroom. A part of him wants nothing more than to follow them, the clothes clinging to his body from all the sweat making him internally recoil as he wishes for a shower. He also knows this is an opportunity to improve without you there: as much as he enjoys your presence, you become a distraction as a drawback.

The wing spiker sighs. “Only for a little bit.”

Atsumu beams at his teammate’s (albeit reluctant) acceptance, already jogging to fetch a ball to begin.

Sakusa finds his focus coming back with every spike he lands on the other side of the court, slowly but surely returning to normal. Another way to release some steam; he tries not to cringe at the memory of the other tactic from the night before.

The attempt fails as soon as you enter the gym with Meian by your side. The two of you are speaking to each other—about what, the ravenette isn’t sure. He doesn’t get a chance to listen in, anyway.

“Nice kill!” Atsumu chirps, gaining the attention of not just his teammate, but his captain and manager as well. With a final nod, you and Meian go your separate ways; him towards the changeroom and you, the other two athletes.

“Don’t push yourselves too much, guys,” you chuckle. “You already worked hard during practice. Take the time to relax as well.”

Sakusa can barely give you a nod while the setter grins at you.

“I’m gonna get cleaned up before we head out, ‘kay?” The wing spiker’s head snaps towards his teammate with a raised brow. Neither you nor the faux-blonde acknowledge his confusion.

You smile. “Take your time. I’ll just put the net and volleyballs away while you’re at it.”

Atsumu nods before slapping Sakusa’s back and jogging to the changeroom. The ravenette can only look down at a stray ball and pick it up. He remembers enjoying the silence between him and whoever he was with.

“I’ll help,” he mutters, walking away before he can witness your reaction. It’s ridiculous, like some middle school crush: wanting nothing more than to be close to you, but freezing up as soon as it happens. And he can’t avoid you forever–he doesn’t want to–because you eventually meet him at the ball cart, dropping the armful of volleyballs into it. “What was that with Miya earlier?”

His voice finds itself whenever he’d rather it didn’t. He’s curious, sure, but he didn’t need his tone to give away his distaste. He can only hope you dismiss it as Sakusa being Sakusa and nothing more.

With the small smile you give him, the ravenette is certain he’s safe. “Oh, ‘Tsumu invited me to check out this restaurant that recently opened with him after practice. Heard they made some of my favourites there, and I wanted to try them ASAP.”

Sakusa pretends that you being on a first-name basis with the setter doesn’t bother him. He doesn’t respond to your explanation and remains silent as he brings the net down with your help. The next time he acknowledges you is before he rushes to the changeroom to shower, ignoring Atsumu as they cross paths.

He’s at the wrong house.

You’d think one knew the directions to the place they called home, yes? At the very least, have an idea of the area. Yet, it’s only until your driveway makes it to his peripheral vision does the ravenette realize his mistake. And he’s just in time to watch you walk up your porch.

After another restless night, the wing spiker needed to clear his head. His home brought him no distractions, already too tidy to clean, and his mind continuously drifted away when watching recordings of volleyball matches. With a day to himself, he might as well go around town—there’s a mall not too far from his place, he recalls. It was a better attempt at keeping him occupied, though he couldn’t help it when he passed a perfume shop and wondered what scent was your favourite. Or the neighbouring lingerie store, putting whatever scandalous pieces of lace out on display, giving the athlete’s spiralling mind suggestions on what you would look best in. (White, he concluded before processing.)

He didn’t want much, nor did he need much. More or less satisfied with his purchases (and dissatisfied with failing distractions), he’s in his car, ready to head back home.

But he’s not home. Or rather, his house. The latter is a mere building; the former, a sense of comfort. And while there’s guilt bubbling in his chest, witnessing you carry on with your everyday life has him relaxing in his seat.

You were on an errand run, Sakusa observes. Groceries, from what he sees. What would you be making for dinner tonight? He’s too far away to catch what exactly is in your bags. The weather’s fallen to a frigid slumber—stew, perhaps? Or maybe you’ll make some umeboshi—those appeared to be your favourite whenever the team stopped by at Onigiri Miya. He and his teammates have had the opportunity to try some of your cooking firsthand; the ravenette is positive whatever you make will be just as delicious.

Then he remembers yesterday’s interaction, and his grip on the steering wheel tightens. Where did you two go? And when did Atsumu get so comfortable with you to take you out? You seemed content and—

And getting angry during this opportunity won’t do him any good. Surprised, Sakusa manages to calm down a little, opting to distract himself with other scenarios.

What could you two eat together? What would you serve him? He lets his thoughts waltz. The two of you share a meal after a long practice, or maybe you cook together on your day off. He’s seen a few romance movies in his life; he can imagine hugging you from behind as you prepared the food, him nuzzling his nose into the crook of your neck as you both talked about whatever was on your mind. The conversation would continue as the two of you ate at the dinner table, his hand itching to find yours across from him.

And for dessert, he’d have you sitting on the kitchen counter with your legs wide open as he ravaged what’s in between them, your hands clawing at his dark curls as his greed controls his tongue. Or, maybe you’re feeling extra generous and decide to help him relax after a tiring practice, lowering to your knees to take every inch of his—

You’re struggling to open your front door. Too many bags in your hands—the wing spiker has half a mind to get out of the car and help you. As crazy as you drive him, he still has some sense to remind him that whatever excuse he has to be in your neighbourhood won’t be convincing, even from him. And with the evergrowing tightness in his pants, he has another problem he can’t hide. Worse, he doesn’t feel as bad as he used to anymore.

You finally manage to get inside, and the athlete starts the engine to find a secluded area once again.

Sakusa has to refrain from spiking the ball at the faux-blonde’s face in the following practice. A match among teammates, and noticing the setter’s little pep in his step upon entering the gym that morning had the ravenette glaring hard. A part of him was relieved being on Atsumu’s opposing team, doubting he could work alongside him for the day.

For now, the wing spiker aims his spikes at the older Miya twin. Anyone could view the action as part of his strategy; aiming for the setter to prevent them from setting is an old trick in the book, but still in the book.

“Damn it, Omi!” Atsumu exclaims in frustration after not properly receiving Sakusa’s spike. “Quit pickin’ on me! Ma arms are gonna fall off!”

A twinge of satisfaction plucks at the ravenette’s chest from the outcry, though he masks it with a huff before walking back to his position. His eyes automatically make their way to your form on a bench, keeping track of the points while scribbling some notes whenever possible. You don’t catch his gaze, seemingly occupied with whatever’s on your clipboard. The lack of attention makes Sakusa frown, as he had hoped you’d see him on his little winning streak.

It doesn’t stop him. If anything, it adds fuel to the fire, the flicker of pride from before blooming into something dangerous.

His plan doesn’t change: Atsumu will remain his target until he decides otherwise. The next time he’s given a chance to spike, his eyes make the mistake of gluing themselves to his victim. Barnes quickly steps in front of the faux-blonde’s spot, flinching from the impact but still blocking the ball perfectly.

It’s just one point, one that he can easily take back. Still, Sakusa can’t help but aim his glare at the setter on the other side of the net, something that doesn’t go unnoticed. A hand lands on the wing spiker’s shoulder, snapping him out of his spiralling daze.

“Take a seat, Sakusa.” Meian’s expression appears relaxed, though there’s a rough edge to his tone telling him it’s not a suggestion.

The bench you’re sitting on is opposite his team’s side of the court. Had that not been the case, the ravenette would try to take the opportunity to sit with you, even if words wouldn’t be exchanged. Instead, he settles onto a bench too far from you for his liking. Even if he were to try and take a peek at you, players from the other team block you from his vision, what with their constant moving.

He’s observing their movements; anyone can assume that. Sakusa can no longer remember the time he’d do something like that unless he was watching videos of matches at home. If he’s not keeping the ball in the air on his side of the court, then he’s scavenging for a chance to even be reminded of your existence: you handing the athletes water and towels, the captain calling your name to gain your attention. Anything will do. So no matter the frustration that comes with the package, he’ll find a way to catch you.

It isn’t until he watches you rise from the bench does Sakusa realize that practice is done for the day. He didn’t notice his teammates walking away from the court and giving him a clearer view of your frame; he was glad he could see you at all. His posture straightens as he watches you approach Atsumu, and his hands ball into fists when you rest your hand on the faux-blonde’s arm. Whatever you two may be discussing, the ravenette can only assume it has to do with his teammate being on the receiving end of his pent-up aggression.

Your conversation ends short and sweet, with you walking towards the storage closet. Sakusa’s only half-listening to his captain when he asks if everything is okay with him. Meian is offered an unenthusiastic response of “Everything is fine” before the younger athlete stalks away.

You’re struggling to roll out the ball cart from its spot when the wing spiker enters the storage closet. He doesn’t hesitate to approach you from behind and grip the handle about an inch away from your hold. You gasp, jolting back slightly before turning your head to face the brooding ravenette.

“You startled me, Sakusa,” you sigh, clutching your chest. “Is there something I can help you with?”

Always so eager to please, aren’t you? The wing spiker has to refrain from smirking at the thought.

Still, he ignores your question. “The wheels on this cart have been acting up lately.” With newfound confidence, he places his free hand on your shoulder to gently pull you out of the way for him to yank the cart. It jerks out of its place with a loud screech, and you wince. “You just need to give it a tug. Until it’s fixed, anyway.”

Sakusa looks down at the cart upon realizing this is probably the most words he’s spoken to you without having you carry the conversation.

You grip the handle after a few seconds of silence. Your voice, suddenly meek, shakes as you thank him. He’s blocking your way; nothing you need to point out to him, but your silence says plenty. His feet stay planted on the ground, and your loss of confidence makes his cock stir in his pants.

“You were pretty tough out there earlier,” you point out. The wing spiker knows you purposefully left out who he was giving a hard time. He also knows, based on your concerned tone, that you’re asking him for an explanation.

You aren’t offered a response. Sakusa only takes his time turning his head to peer at you, the darkness of the storage closet and the way his black curls frame his stoic face giving him an intimidating aura. But what has you subconsciously shrinking into your corner are the onyx caskets for irises boring into your frame, beckoning you to crawl into the empty pools of demise.

“I have to be if I want to win,” is his response before finally leaving you be, exiting the changeroom with the same intensity you witnessed mere seconds ago.

He’s back: closer.

Parking his car nearby doesn’t cut it for him anymore. Sakusa doesn’t think it ever did. With the amount of patience lost for every practice with his team, the initial distance was just a formality.

Now, his car hides nearby as he approaches your home, giving a quick yet thorough peek over his shoulder to make sure he’s in the clear.

It took him the third visit to learn where you hid your spare key, having seen you take it out from under the cushion of a little bench on your porch. And luckily for him, it hasn’t left its spot.

Even with his morals flying out the window, the wing spiker neatly places his coat, scarf and boots aside after removing them, then ponders over his leather gloves until ultimately deciding to keep them on. He eyes the spare slippers by the entrance before concluding they won’t be necessary (for this visit, anyway).

Based on the house’s layout, it shouldn’t take long for Sakusa to find your bedroom. But it’s not going anywhere, and neither are you. Why not get to know you via your home?

It’s a small house: one story and cozy. The ravenette wonders how you afforded it, even with your salary. With how minimal the style appears, he can only assume most of your income went into the building itself. Would it be too much for him to buy you things for the interior? As a gift, perhaps when the occasion calls for it.

Then again, is he really in any position to ask himself about doing too much? He almost chuckles at the thought.

A quick yet thorough tour of your home gives him a more detailed layout, though he’d love to stay longer had he had the time. Or better yet, your company. As satisfied as he was to find your living room and kitchen tidy–and by his standards no less–he’s not done getting to know you.

People don’t really need an exploration of the bathroom. It’s as clean as any other room, though it’s a cast-aside note when his eyes land on your laundry basket. Half full, too. Squatting closer to the dirty pile, a subtle yet musky scent hits his nose. Sakusa almost groans, cock stirring in his slacks; for such a clean freak, he’s never been more excited.

His eyes scan the basket’s contents, eventually landing on flimsy lace. Part of him wishes he wasn’t sporting gloves for the occasion, but he doesn’t let that stop him as he picks up the article of clothing. Underwear, of course it is, and a flattering magenta nonetheless. You wear this to practice? Or are there other times you put it on? Do you have a matching bra? The wing spiker can’t find anything in the basket, though he’s sure–no, he knows–you’d wear it like it was made for you.

Are you wearing something similar right now?

The ravenette stands from his position, pocketing the lacy undergarment before exiting the bathroom. Consider it a welcoming gift.

Again, it doesn’t take long for him to find your room. Being in such an intimate location is a different experience compared to looking in as an outsider. Everything is you: the way you organized your shelves and vanity, the colour palette—your scent is more prominent here. Sakusa doesn’t catch his eyes fluttering shut until he distinctly hears shifting.

To his right, you lay on your mattress, your sheets messily hanging off parts of your body. You’re barely a silhouette in his eyes; the moonlight stalking past the crack between your curtains is the only thing helping the ravenette navigate your room. Parts of the glow highlight a bit of your face, though a shimmer from the light’s reflection teases his peripheral vision.

You have a bookcase headboard, and on it lays a necklace in its case. Nothing fancy; a golden heart hanging off a thin chain. It’s more the note next to its box that catches the ravenette’s eye:

Thought this would look good on you ;) Hope you like it!

— Tsumu (your favourite setter <3)

If it weren’t for the fact that you’d notice, Sakusa would crumble that note and follow up with the faux-blonde’s neck. When did you get this? He surely would’ve noticed if you received it during practice.

There’s a good chance the setter gave it to you before or afterwards. The wing spiker’s aware that the two of you spent time together outside of training, though for it to happen enough times that Atsumu found it appropriate to give you a gift as intimate as a heart-shaped necklace has the ravenette glaring at the piece of jewellery. (As open as his teammate may be, Sakusa doubts he’d buy something like that for someone after a single meet-up.)

He hears a sigh: yours. Your body shifts in its spot again, opting to lay on your back. The wing spiker freezes for the slowest seconds his alarmed brain can count, only to relax once you stay in your new spot.

They say an average of eight spiders crawl into your mouth yearly while you sleep. A myth, of course, but maybe that’s what we tell ourselves to ease the paranoia. Maybe, that’s what he is, Sakusa thinks; a spider. Soundless, observant—he’s certainly made himself at home.

Maybe not, he reconsiders. Most people would carefully trap the eight-legged creature before bringing it outside. Or kill it; no mercy necessary. You have yet to do either.

Then again, you aren’t like most people. Not in his eyes, anyway. No, his eyes entertain themselves with your every move, and no matter how deep those holes in the side of your head are, you don’t catch his stare. Whatever he may be, he’s always the perfect distance to observe you.

Sakusa’s brain buzzes mindlessly as his hands draw closer to your form, long fingers pinching the hem of your pyjama shirt before lifting the material. No bra: not a surprising observation, what with your nipples poking at the fabric from the cold. Even with how dark it is, the ravenette salivates from the sight, his cock stirring in his pants. He’s grateful for the lack of witnesses, though it’s still embarrassing to be as affected as he is. You’re not even fully nude. Yet.

He waits for a reaction. Other than you moving in your sleep, the wing spiker receives nothing. He exhales through his nose, never thinking that gaining the knowledge about you being a heavy sleeper early on would be an advantage for him. His fingers twitch before slowly landing on your stomach. Again, no reaction; he then lays his palms to join the digits. With a deep and shaky breath, the ravenette glides his hands up your torso until they reach your breasts.

They feel perfect in his grasp, even with the thick layer of the leather gloves creating that barrier. Your face scrunches when he gives your mounds a light squeeze, though you remain asleep. As deep of a sleeper as you may be, one wrong move could ruin everything. Sakusa gulps, dragging his middle finger to flick at your nipple. A shaky breath from you is enough for him to shift into a more comfortable position on your bed before he continues his ministrations more confidently.

He’s careful, he assures; eyes flickering from your chest to your face, reading your expressions to discover what you like and making sure you don’t wake up. All the while, the athlete tries to ignore the tightness of his pants, although watching you squirm beneath him because of his touch makes that a challenge.

“Hnngh….”

It was barely audible, but enough to make the athlete stop everything. You’re still asleep, of course—he’s almost impressed, a bit jealous, even. Countless nights of insomnia on his side because of his fantasies playing on a loop, but yours give you a good night’s rest.

Regardless, the wing spiker gears to earn another reaction like that. Dipping his toes further into the water, he gets a little rougher, tweaking the sensitive buds between his covered fingers. Your back arches in his hold; more than enough confirmation for him.

Shifting his position once more, Sakusa wraps his lips around one of your nipples, dragging his tongue against it while groping the other breast. You whimper when he begins sucking: a shallow sound, but it travels down to his crotch. He already has to deal with the embarrassment of finishing early because of you; if he cums in his pants without any stimulation, you’ll surely be the death of him.

He can’t rely on you being a deep sleeper forever: the wing spiker must work quickly. Pulling away from your chest, Sakusa brings his attention to the lower half of your body. His hands glide down to your hips, hooking his index fingers past the elastic waistband. He wonders whether he should take his time removing the article of clothing or pull them down in one motion. You help him make a quick decision when your leg accidentally brushes against his hard-on. And while he refrains from letting out a groan, his hands make fast work of harshly tugging your pants to your knees.

Silence: not a sound from you, not a breath from him. Your thighs clench momentarily out of reflex once the cool air hits the exposed skin. Not fast enough—Sakusa managed to catch a peek at your drooling cunt. And it isn’t until you finally relax again does he exhale with a light shiver from the sight.

Now, with a clear view, the athlete reaches for his opportunity by swiping some of your essence and bringing that same finger to your clit. Your hips buck into his touch as he rubs slow but tight circles on the pearl, making his brows furrow in concentration and chest swell with pride. It isn’t long until he adds to his pace and slides a finger from his other hand into your sopping hole. Your thighs clench on impulse, a mewl leaving your throat as the air remains stuck in his. His movements are forced to a halt due to your hold, and it takes several seconds for you to settle. Do you enjoy the sturdy material of leather rubbing against your insides? Maybe you’re unaware of the answer, but God, wouldn’t the ravenette love to know.

Dipping his toes in the water is long out of the discussion; if anything, he’s in too deep, the water rising every second he proceeds. He might as well follow the rest of him down, no? Take that final gulp of air before dipping his head in and letting that frozen abyss swallow him.

Sakusa experimentally wiggles his finger inside you and, after gaining no reaction, slides in another. With how wet you already were, it doesn’t take much effort on his part. You gasp, but your eyes stay closed. Even with his morality slipping away each day he sees you, the wing spiker still finds himself surprised (and grateful) that you can sleep through his actions. He wonders how far he can go.

The longer and deeper he pumps his digits inside you, the more reactions he earns from you. The squelching noises between your legs also become louder, especially with the leather material of his gloves. He’s no longer worried, just curious about what sounds and expressions he can pull out of you.

A particular response tells him he’s found your sweet spot. With a drawn-out yet breathless wail, you lift your hips off the mattress once the ravenette prods at a certain part inside you.

Where there is darkness, there is also light, and that’s exactly what could be said to describe the glimmer in his eyes upon discovering this hidden gem of information. He continues his ministrations, watching in fascination and lust as you grind into his touch.

Meanwhile, his cock is begging to be released from its restraints, throbbing due to the display. Sakusa was hoping to hold out for a bit longer, mapping out your body in ways he hopes no one else has, but along with any logic and morality, his patience flies out the window.

You whimper when the athlete slides his fingers out; he almost wants to coo, assure you that he’ll make you feel all better. He can’t, of course, so he opts to taste you, lick his digits clean of your slick. He’s certain he almost cums on the spot, your sweetness consuming his tastebuds (as well as a hint of bitter leather) and leaving its mark in his memories. The wing spiker’s eyes roll to the back of his head as he tries to refrain from groaning.

When his gaze returns to your form, he’s swift with your pants, further sliding them down before doing the same to himself. Having his cock out of its confinements already does plenty for him, but not enough. Sakusa recalls how your cunt squeezed his fingers, practically sucking them in. You were warm, dripping, even with his gloves in the way. And with how eager he is to have you make a mess on his dick, he knows he’s no longer the same person he was before meeting you.

The athlete taps the tip of his cock against your clit a few times, just to watch you squirm, before sliding into your entrance. Only a few inches in, and he already has to dig his teeth into his bottom lip. None of this was a part of his plan—he’s not even sure he had one in the first place; he just needed to see you, feel your presence in some way, shape or form. And the latter is more than he could ever ask for, your insides hugging him just as tight as they did his fingers. The lack of a barrier is the icing on the cake.

He’s bottomed out before he knows it, and Sakusa doesn’t know where to look: your face contorting from being filled to the brim or your cunt stretching open to accommodate his size. Either one intensifies the swirling of his lower stomach. All he can do for now is play with your clit until you appear to feel better. (And if that means you clench harder around him, then so be it. He’s come this far as is.)

After a few minutes, the wing spiker reels his hips back with a deep breath. His thrusts are gentle, as much of a challenge as it may be to hold back. He bites his bottom lip as he feels you hug every inch of his cock, threatening to milk him for all he’s worth when he’s barely begun. You’re so much better than his hand; no fantasy can compare.

A few strokes in, and Sakusa’s restraint is thinning. Every time, he thrusts in a bit deeper, a bit faster, a bit harder. You’re quietly moaning between pants, your face twisting from a pained expression to one much lewder. Pretty lips parted with brows both furrowed and raised, you have the ravenette throwing his head back with a silent groan.

Unfortunately for him, that’s when he catches sight of that damn necklace again. His grip on the sheets next to your head tightens, his thrusts sloppy as his mind races. What made Atsumu think he had the right? Does he think a necklace is all it’ll take to get you? Sakusa drops his head to glare daggers as you continue to mewl and whimper. What do you think is happening right now? Who are you thinking about right now?

His mind keeps reeling, and the wing spiker fails to notice how he’s taking out his aggression in his thrusts.

Your whimpers grow to pathetic cries, tears forming in the corners of your eyes, and his hold on your sheets move to your wrists on instinct. With the mental spiral and physical force, the ravenette fails to notice your eyes shoot open.

Then, you gasp. “Sakusa!”

He hears the fear in your voice, no doubt. Yet, in a situation like this, with you beneath him, tears streaming down your cheeks as your sobbing and panting mix together, he can’t help but create a more beautiful scenario. You’re begging for him, his cock, needing him to fuck you stupid and fill you up to the brim, the pleasure so overwhelming that your nails are digging into his back, only his shirt shielding his skin from the potential marks.

The athlete doesn’t think; he slams his lips against yours, his tongue quick to explore your mouth as his release hangs on to the edge. And when your pussy flutters around his dick, creams around it, it’s the push he needs. Hot spurts of cum paint your insides white as Sakusa kisses you harder, his hips stilling. Even as he groans against your mouth, he can hear your choked moans, and he never wants any of this to end.

But that’s not how it works. Eventually, you both come down from your highs, his cock going soft and out of cum to give you. The wing spiker doesn’t pull out, but it doesn’t stop the white liquid from trying to seep out. It makes him shiver, slowly ending your kiss for you both to catch some air. The string of saliva connected to your lips that follows him as he sits up distracts him; something else to bind you two together. It’s messy, so so so messy.

He loves it.

You’re both breathing hard for the next several seconds, your terrified expression not faltering as your body trembles lightly.

“Wha—How?” you gasp, sob, you’re not sure, and neither is he. He’s only half-listening, still floating on that release and too far away. “Sakusa, how did you get in?”

There they are again: those eyes. Empty pools, yet always full of judgement. Like you’re the crazy one. Tracing the river streams down your face and clumps of shields for lashes, they seemingly do more talking than his mouth.

Then, Sakusa reaches a hand out to cup your cheek. You flinch, but it doesn’t stop him from wiping a stray tear. Even with your helpless sounds quieting down, the silence isn’t any less deafening. And when his voice, smooth and deep and a little too nonchalant, invades the room, you shiver.

“I was always here.”

#haikyuu #fanfic #fanfiction #hq #haikyu #haikyu!!#smut #haikyuu x reader #sakusa kiyoomi #sakusa x reader #yandere sakusa x reader #yandere haikyuu #sakusa smut #dark content #sakusa dark content #itachiyama #msby bj #msby sakusa

2K notes · View notes

brayneworms · 7 months

Text

cold as ice, baby | hinata hajime

kinktober day one: fingering

word count. 2.9k

content. MINORS/AGELESS BLOGS DNI, trans!hinata, gender neutral reader, fingering, established but new relationship, kissing, no real power dynamics but hinata likes being in control, biting, reader doesn't get touched but it's implied at the end

♪ freak - lana del rey.

kinktober mlist | regular mlist

Some days, Hajime's self-loathing is no joke.

It feels like the heat in Jabberwock intensifies it sometimes. Sort of... bastes it. Like it's cooking in its own filthy greasy residue and making him feel all oily and gross and hot. So, so hot. Under that stupid sun he cooks, and he sweats, and he feels like they can all smell it on him.

Probably not though. He showers every day, and nobody gets close enough to try.

It makes him feel a little sick, is all. How much he wants you sometimes. He feels gross, barely a step above Hanamura or maybe worse. He feels like he should go to jail sometimes for the way he ogles you. It's a hot island, so sometimes you have so much skin out, shoulders and legs, gleaming from sunblock lotion, slightly tacky from the whitish paste. Or the sea salt in your hair, or the chapstick you'd loaned from Saionji on your lips, apple and cinnamon. Or the swimsuits. Hajime's mouth goes dry.

He does not want to think about you in swimwear. Because then he's not going to stop thinking about you in swimwear, and it'll lead somewhere bad, which is the whole fucking issue, really.

You're so new, the both of you. He's liked you for ages, but you've only been official for a month or so. He can't just pounce on you like a starving lion. Even though he wants to. Even though he really, really wants to.

He watches you sit cross-legged with Tanaka to feed his hamsters, or get a piggyback from Owari with her strong hands on your thighs, or sit down and braid Ibuki's hair into loving little plaits, your fingers skating over the pale skin of her neck and scalp.

And it does something to him. He imagines your hands, smoothing down the tawny skin of his arms, his waist, encircling his ankles, gripping his throat, buried in his hair. He looks at your fingers and imagines them balling up the stupid standard-issue bedsheets underneath you. He sees you stretch out your legs and sees them bent in half, over his shoulders, around his waist like a vice, your pretty eyes clenched shut, your pretty mouth hung open.

Heat pools in the pit of his stomach.

Avoiding you and taking a lot of cold—unforgivingly cold—showers makes for a good temporary solution, but oh look, hasn't he just shot himself in the foot and scored a home goal with it? Because it just means you come knocking on his cabin door looking for answers.

At night.

When everyone's asleep, and you're alone, and he's only wearing his boxers because of this stupid perpetual heat.

"Have I done something wrong?" you ask, your voice all small and hurt, and Hajime wishes the ground would open up and swallow him whole.

"No! Nonono," he blurts out in a panic, and he steps aside to let you in like a moron, like the idiot he so clearly is. It's not the first time you've been in his cabin, obviously, but it's night and you look all soft and vulnerable and he thinks you're freshly showered because he can smell the coconut bodywash you like to use.

But then reality breaks through because you look—honestly hurt, crossing your arms and shifting your weight from foot to foot, avoiding his eye, and then Hajime mostly just feels like a huge piece of shit.

"I'm sorry," he sighs, and pushes the heels of his hands into his eyes in a gesture of weariness. "It's—it really isn't anything you, uh, did. It's me. I'm just... weird."

"Weird about what?" you press, stepping forward. "C'mon, you can tell me. Whatever it is, we can just... talk it out."

You're so sweet. "It's—uh, honestly, it's just kinda really embarrassing. And stupid. And... weird. And I really don't wanna weird you out, or like, make you think I'm... something I'm not, 'cause I'm not, like, the thing that you're gonna think I am but I just—"

"Hajime." Your hands on his shoulders, clamping down. The warm soft skin dimples between your fingers. Hajime's voice dies in his throat. He stares on, cheeks cherry-red, entirely too hot, sweat collecting unpleasantly on the nape of his neck. "I can guarantee nothing you tell me is going to freak me out, or whatever it is you're scared of. And I can see it's clearly... weighing down on you."

You're so nice. Weighing down on you is such a nice choice of words. In reality he probably looks constipated from stress.

"It's just—" His tongue flicks out nervously to wet his lips, and your eyes absently flit down to track the movement, oh fuck, "It's just..." Bad idea bad idea bad idea. "I kind of... I don't want to come on too strong and... scare you off."

Your brow knits; he thinks he sees some sort of understanding fall into place behind your eyes, but it's kind of distant. "Come on too strong how?"

His blush spreads from his cheeks to the tip of his ears, down his neck. "I... ahaha..." The nervous breathless stupid laugh he gives makes him want to strangle himself. "Y-you know. When I'm around you, I..." He swallows hard. "It—I can't help but think about... stuff I shouldn't."

He sees the moment it clicks into place for you; the slight widening of your eyes, the parting of your lips. "A-ah."

Mortification floods him like a tsunami. "Sorry! Fuck, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I never should've—" He's burning alive, he's actually baking like one of Hanamaru's luxury strips of meat that he slowcooks in the oven for hours on end so the whole hotel building ends up stinking of fucking, chicken and stock and rosemary all day—

"Hajime, hey." Your hands squeeze on his shoulders. "Just—breathe for a sec, please, you're freaking me out but not for the reasons you think you are."

Hajime gulps, eyes you nervously, and takes in a few desperate pulls of air. He feels small, like he's actively shrinking.

"First of all. It's not... like, weird, you know, to f-feel that kind of stuff in general," you say, incredibly haltingly like it's very awkward for you. "But it's even less weird when you're actually, you know, in a relationship, and I—I don't want you to feel weird about this, that's all, or about telling me when you're—you know. Because I'd be down. I mean, to help. Assuming that's what you want, I mean."

Hajime stares at you. His brain abruptly throws up its hands, bluescreens, and goes for a smoke break.

"Wha—wha?" he says intelligently. You smile fondly, the kind of smile that reminds Hajime why he fell in love with you in the first place.

"Do you want me to help you out?" you repeat, very clearly, and Hajime buries his face in his hands. Heat shoots through him like liquid lightning, illuminating every pore of his body. He can feel it gather between his legs.

"You don't have to," he mutters, heart thumping against his ribcage.

"Hajime," you say pleasantly. "D'you think you're the only one who's had to hold themselves back?"

It's pure, unadulterated shock that makes him lift his face out his hands to gawp at you, but the moment he does you cup his face with both of your hands and kiss him. He wonders if you can feel the heat of his burning skin on your palms, whether you care, and then your tongue is in his mouth and he stops wondering anything at all. He groans softly against your lips, and finally his useless hands move and he's grabbing, curling a fistful of your shirt in one hand and cupping the back of your neck with the other. He feels like he's been depriving himself of you for so long, and for fucking what? You feel incredible.

He walks you backwards until your knees his the frame of his bed and you're unseated with an undignified yelp. You bounce on the mattress, peering up at him. Hajime swallows hard. "Is this... okay? We don't have to—anything you want, God, anything—"

You put two hands on his waist, just above the waistline of his boxers, and Hajime stammers to a halt. He gazes at you, wide-eyed, brilliantly red. You press your lips to the skin just under his navel and his stomach sort of convulses at the sensitivity, and you keep going, down the trail of hair that disappears behind the waistband of his underwear, kissing over the fabric until you get to—

Hajime jolts and swears. His hands clench reflexively into fists at his side. "Lay down," he bursts out, and then flushes deeper. "Uh... please. If you want to. I—"

You giggle and pry your hands off him, leaving him feeling colder than ever. Hajime watches, mouth dry as you drape yourself lazily over his bed. Your sleep short ride up your thighs, the collar of your shirt dips down, and all the skin is making his head dizzy. He clambers over you a little clumsily, hitting your knee with his with a thud that makes you wince.

"Sorry!" he panicks, hands fluttering nervously over your leg. "Sorry, did that—that was an accident, I—"

"It's okay, it's okay," you laugh, the back of your hand covering your mouth. "Jeez, Hajime. Relax a little maybe."

His flush must be crawling down his chest at this point. "Yeah. Maybe." He glances around. "Kind of hard."

"Is it?" you ask with a pointed glance at his boxers. He groans, but the levity is extremely welcome, makes him feel less anxious. Reminds him it's just you, and you would never seriously laugh at him. Reminds him that he's safe.

"Is it okay if I'm—I mean." He wipes his clammy palms surreptitiously over his thighs. "I feel better when I'm more... in control. Y'know?"

You smile up at him. "That's fine with me. Are you going to boss me around now?"

Hajime laughs feebly, glancing away. He thinks it's a reasonable pretense that the idea doesn't make him ten times wetter.

He kneels between your legs and kisses you. You're so soft, skin warm and pliant and fresh from the shower. He can't hold back a moan when your tongue slips against his, and when your hand slides over his waist again, the pinky finger of your hand grazing the band of his underwear, he finally plucks up the courage to grab your wrist and drag it.

He lets out a choked sound into your mouth as your pliant hand slides between his legs. Pulling back from the kiss, panting hotly against your mouth. "Okay?" he asks hoarsely. "Please, oh my god, I need... only if you want, only if you want to..."

Your hand twitches to life inside the tight grip of his fist, and you skim your fingers over the wet spot of the fabric of his underwear.

Hajime shudders, dropping his head into the crook of your shoulder. "Ah... oh, fuck..." His shaking hand drops your wrist, reprimanding himself fiercely for maybe grabbing you too hard, but you didn't say anything, but he shouldn't just grab you and lead you like you're cattle, he opens his mouth to apologise when you cup his cunt through his boxers and he loses the ability to do anything at all. Anything other than moan into your skin, starting to get salty from the heat and the proximity, and he goes delirious with the idea that he's ruining you a little. Like you've just showered, you'd scrubbed your body all over with lovely scented soap and he's going to undo it methodically, deliberately, and you're going to let him, when it's all over you're going to smell like sweat and him and you'll have to clean all over again.

It's an intoxicating thought, the idea that someone as soft as you would let someone like him mess you up.

Your hand slips under the waistband of his underwear, follows the trail of hair down and finding him soft and hot and dripping wet. Hajime curses as your fingers skate almost curiously over his clit, his folds.

"Oh shit," you curse, mumbling almost more to yourself. "Y-you're so wet."

He makes a high, embarrassed noise in the back of his throat, eyes clenched shut, and his hips rock up into your hand in a gesture that feels inherently needy.

Despite his grossly obvious urgency, you take the time to bring your fingers back to your mouth and press them inside. Hajime watches, slack-jawed, pupils blown. When you take your fingers out, they're gleaming wet, and you grin at him. "You taste amazing."

Hajime is assaulted with all new images; your head between his legs, his hand on the top of your hair or tangled in your hair. Your tongue, soft and skilled against him, dripping spit and cum onto the carpet, and he has to stuff his knuckles in his mouth to stop himself moaning out loud. Sweat drips off his forehead and lands on your chest.

"Y/n," he croaks. "I'm gonna lose my mind."

You smile almost shyly, as if you didn't just have your fingers in your mouth right in front of him. "O-okay. Okay. Just, um... okay, I got it."

Hajime swallows hard. "Y-you're still sure?"

"I'm so sure," you tell him earnestly. And with that your hand glides down, over his collarbones, the twin scars arching beneath his breastbone, down his tense stomach and under his boxers again. This time, your fingers move with purpose. They roll over his clit and down the centre of his folds, parting them, dipping inside just slightly before coming back up. He feels a shivering mix of pain and pleasure as two of your fingers circle his clit, an indication that he's almost too sensitive; he feels like he's on fire, like forks of lightning are emanating from the vertice between his legs, and he lets out choked, high noises against your throat.

Mindlessly, it seems, his hips roll against your head, seeking something more. You take the initiative to prod with one finger, dipping lower from the other before teasing at his entrance. His thighs shake and part slightly for you, and you slip inside without another word.

The breach feels like breathing for the first time; he's so wet and so sensitive that you slide inside with barely a hint of pain, easing in up to the first knuckle.

"Ohhh god," he groans, feeling mindless, feeling weightless. "Ohgodohgodohgod..."

"What should I—"

"More," he nearly begs. "I want you inside."

The word should be embarrassing, but they just aren't. Not in front of you. You get your finger in slowly, inch by inch until your knuckles press up against him and he's clenching the sheets with his free hands.

He almost convulses when your finger curls up like it's searching for something; it presses against a spongey spot inside him and he whines from somewhere deep in his chest, and he hears you swear to yourself as you start moving in and out.

"Nngh, oh—hah..."

Oh he's gonna die. Your fingers are inside him. He's gonna fuckin' die—

One turns to two turns to three, your thumb rolling constant circles over his clit, sometimes catching so sensitively that he has to bite back whimpers. There's the stretch and the burn but even that is okay, feels good after a few moments. He feels distantly really bad that he's not touching you, but he will after, fucking hell he will after, whatever you want him to, he'd kiss the fuckin' ground you walk on for making him feel so good right now. All too soon he feels the familiar tightening in his stomach like a band.

"H-hey," he gasps out. "I think I—I'm c-close, so..."

"O-oh," you say, sounding equally breathless. "It's okay."

Your fingers push up into him, curling almost viciously into that spot inside him just as your other hand taps his jaw and guides his face to yours for a kiss. It's barely more than panting against each other's lips as your thumb presses down hard on his clit.

"Fuck, fuck," he cries. "Fuck, you're so fuckin'—so perfect—'m cumming, shit—"

He sobs out as he cums, alight from the inside out, shaking like he's just been hit by lightning. The pressure is so much that he needs an outlet, his finges pressing bruising marks into your hip and thigh, and he turns his head and bites down almost feverishly on your collarbone.

You tap his arm with a yelp, fingers jerking inside him as he starts to come down. He can feel his release dripping down his inner thighs and he lifts his head groggily.

"Shit," he mumbles eloquently, staring at the teeth mark on your skin. He didn't break skin, thank fuck, but he still feels mortified. "Sorry. Oh my god, sorry. That was—that was a total accident, I..."

"Ah, it—it's okay." You swallow hard. "Was that..."

Hajime shakes his head dazedly. "Amazing," he croaks. "Y-you're amazing." He gets the werewithal to roll off you with his shaking limbs so his weight isn't pushing into you anymore.

You let out a long, slow breath. "Was pretty amazing for me too."

Hajime glances at you with a trickle of amusememt. "Not yet it wasn't."

Your brow scrunches in confusion—but realisation dawns when you feel his hand slide up your thigh. In his eyes is a question, one that you nod hastily to. Hajime grins weakly.

"Good," he breathes. "As soon as I get my breath back, it's your turn." And it sounds like the sweetest thing ever when he adds, a moment later with a twist of that characteristic cockiness that leaps out at the most inopportune of moments: "I can't wait to see how pretty you're gonna look when I make you cum."

#🫀.scribes #danganronpa smut #sdr2 smut #hajime hinata smut #hajime hinata x reader #danganronpa x reader #sdr2 x reader #hajime smut #hinata smut #sdr2 oneshot #danganronpa oneshot #kinktober 2023

215 notes · View notes