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maerinhearts · 1 year

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Lygophobia

A blizzard hits town during game night with your childhood best friend. Your fear of the dark has you scrambling to light candles, only the lighter stops working on the last candle. As anxiety seeps into your bones, your best friend comes to comfort you.

Warnings: unprotected sex, flufffffffff, fem!bodied reader, mentions of lygophobia (fear of the dark), mentions of anxiety, best friends to lovers trope (lol).

All characters are 18+.

Minors DNI, please and thank you.

A/N: This was a hard one. It's pretty emotional (in my opinion) and trying to incorporate Osamu's accent was rough. For me, I think his accent would come out more during dirty talk as his brain loses control. I feel like he would change his accent to talk to his customers and it would eventually overtake his daily life. But it would totally come out during sex. Also, this started out with Oikawa, but I changed it to Osamu halfway through, lmao.

The snow just seems to keep piling up outside. The meteorologist warned you about this earlier in the day, about this blizzard. But you and your best friend decided to stick with your original plans to have your usual game night that consisted of Uno, go fish, Monopoly, and Candyland (to name a few). The snow had started shortly after he got to your apartment with his overnight bag slung over his shoulder. You gave his bag a pointed look before raising your eyebrow at him. It wasn't ever unusual for him to stay the night, but you never agreed to it this time.

"What, you just expect me to go back home in a blizzard?" he had asked as he dropped his bag to the floor and kicked his shoes off. "You're cruel."

Of course you didn't expect that. But things had just felt... different... with him lately. You couldn't quite put your finger on the reason why, but something was just off. You found yourself avoiding eye contact more often as well as blood rushing to your face at anything nice he said to you. If he noticed this, he never mentioned it to you, but he had started to act differently.

You think you might have noticed the biggest shift when, a couple weeks ago, you met up to grab coffee and go for a walk on your lunch break. The wind had blown your hair into your face. Before you could react and push it back into place, his hand darted out first instead, gently pushing the strands behind your ear. You turned away so quickly and buried your face into your scarf, too afraid to let him see the blush staining your cheeks.

You avoided him after that, and he noticed. He actually suggested game night and vowed to air out whatever was going on. He packed his bag without thinking much about it and only used the blizzard as an excuse when he caught wind of the weather. And just as he opened his mouth to ask you why you've been so weird lately, your power kicked off, bathing the two of you in darkness and silence.

You scurried around to find candles, setting them out and lighting them quickly before the anxiety settled into your bones. He helped without being asked, his body moved on its own. On the last candle you were attempting to light, the flame just wouldn't catch. Your hand was beginning to shake, anxiety radiating off of you in waves.

It's too dark. It's too quiet. Where's Osamu? He was just here a second ago. You shake the lighter vigorously, hoping to get fluid into the nozzle. You hit the spark wheel again with your thumb. Sparks fly but once again, nothing catches. You curse the lighter underneath your breath, shaking it again. The darkness seemed to start swallowing you, heart pounding in your ears. You hold the lighter in two hands now, hoping to stabilize it, thinking that maybe it was your hands shaking that was keeping it from lighting.

He approaches you gently, as if he might scare you away if he makes his presence known. His footsteps are light, his heartbeat steady as he softly presses his chest into your back, one hand snaking around your waist and pressing you back against him. His other hand covers yours on the lighter. He says nothing as he holds your hand in his, thumb moving to hit the spark wheel once, twice, three times before it lights. He guides your hand to the candle, and you light the wick together. As the flame catches, he watches as it illuminates your face in a soft glow, light caressing your face the same way the sun touches the earth at sunrise.

He presses his forehead against the back of your head, holding you tight enough against his front that you can feel his heartbeat against your back. It's steady in its rhythm.

"Breathe," he whispers into the silence of the living room, the word wrapping itself so sweetly around your body, as if that's all you needed to hear in that moment.

You feel the tension leave your muscles as you focus on the feeling of his heart against you, body nearly sagging in his arms as you calm down. He just holds you tighter, presses his face into the nook between your neck and shoulder. You focus on matching your heartbeat with his, turning in his arms to press your ear against his chest.

His index finger finds its way under your chin, directing your face up to look at him. When your eyes adjust, you notice how close his face is to yours. If you stood on your tippy toes, you could kiss him. At that thought, your eyes glance down at his lips as his tongue darts out to wet them.

"Are you okay?" he asks softly.

It was second nature for him to check on you and take care of you. He's known about your fear of the dark since you were kids. At first, he made fun of you for it, even through your teenage years and early college years together. If you had to guess, he became more understanding and caring within the last five years. He was the first to drape his jacket around your shoulders and wrap you in his warmth. The first to bend down to eye level, looking in your eyes for any signs of anxiety and panic. The first to create light with anything he could find.

If Osamu has to guess when these thoughts started changing, it was probably your last year of college together. When he saw you with that asshat ex-boyfriend of yours. Atsumu highly disagrees with this, but this is the most he could get out of his twin brother when it came to you. Atsumu always knew his brother was in love with you. It just took him seeing you with another man to realize that for himself.

So, when you turn your face up at him, eyes glossy with unshed tears, silence holding the two of you so tenderly in the living room of your apartment, he doesn't move away. He stays in place even when you hesitantly press your lips against his in the softest kiss he's ever received. When you pull away, he waits a beat, watching as embarrassment clouds your face as the reality of what you just did settles into the crevices of your mind.

He’s patient.

Hell, he’d have to be to wait 20 whole years for you.

He watches your face carefully. Watches as your eyes dart away. Watches as your eyebrows pull together in embarrassment. Watches as you squeeze your eyes shut in an attempt to squeeze what just happened out of your brain. He’s silent as he watches you, thoughts turning over in his mind at how he should handle this. What should he do next? Would kissing you again scare you away? There’s only one way for him to find out, he thinks, as the devil on his left shoulder shrugs and yells at Osamu to take the dive.

He palm caresses your cheek, gently turning your face back to him, eyes finding your plush mouth as his thumb glides across your bottom lip. All thoughts leave his brain as his thumb pulls your lip down in an attempt to open your mouth to him as he leans in to capture you in a searing kiss.

His mouth is hot on yours, tongue diving in to taste you as your hands fist into the front of his shirt. He tastes like red wine and it wraps around your tongue so deliciously, leaving you feeling heady as he pulls back to look at you. Your breathing is the only thing that can be heard in the room now.

He assesses the situation, searching your face for any signs of regret or disgust. A sound of surprise leaves his lips as you throw your arms around his neck and throw yourself into his body, lips connecting once again. The kiss is aggressive. It has Osamu backing up to find purchase on the couch, hands on your waist as you straddle his lap and lean in to kiss him once again.

Your hands rush to pull his clothes off, his hoodie landing god knows where in your apartment. Osamu takes this as a sign to begin undressing you, all of his fears flying out the window as you lean down to press open mouthed kisses against his neck and chest. He’s a mess beneath you, brain reduced to mush as you kiss your way down his sculpted body, stopping to make eye contact with him as you fall to your knees on the floor in front of him, pulling his cock from his sweats.

He feels panic bubbling up in his chest. “Wait,” he calls out softly, hand moving to grab your chin. “Are you sure you want to do this?” His eyes search your face once again. They were constantly searching. He was always on edge around you, fearful of saying or doing the wrong thing; fearful of you being hurt in any way.

You don’t respond, instead you drag your tongue up the underside of his half-hard shaft, eyes remaining trained on his as you watch his eyebrows furrow in pleasure. He hardens more in your hands as he reaches out in an attempt to push you away again, afraid of the consequences of what you were currently doing. You block his attempt, grabbing both wrists and placing his hands on the back of your head instead as you take him into your mouth. His fingers knot into your hair as the tip of his cock hits the back of your throat. He throws his head back in pleasure, holding you to him.

You dip deeper, taking him all the way in until your nose hits his abdomen. You gag around him and Osamu locks his hands together behind your head, keeping you from moving your head away from him as his body slumps forward over you.

“Fuck, just like that,” he whispers to you, groaning as you gag around him again in an attempt to swallow.

The edges of your vision start to go black as you raise your hand and weakly smack his chest. He pulls up to gaze down at you, pupils blown wide with lust. He nearly comes on the spot when he looks at you, his dick in your mouth, tears falling down your cheeks, brows furrowed in pain from not being able to breathe.

As if he was dunked in cold water, he comes back to reality, hands unclasping from behind your head and pulling you off of him. You cough as you get air back into your lungs, wiping the spit off your face with your sleeve.

“Are you okay?” he asks, panic evident in his voice. His hands cup your head.

You opt to respond with a kiss, letting him know that you are okay, and you’d like to continue. He pulls your body up onto the couch with him, laying you down on the cushions and moving to cover your neck in open mouthed kisses as he pulls your clothes off your body. You’re bound to be annoyed about where you find your clothes in the morning, but you don’t care right now. The feeling of his calloused hands on your body has you writhing beneath him, arching your back up into his touch.

He watches you with wonder and curiosity, dick twitching as your body responds to his every touch. His mouth finds your nipples easily, taking them into his mouth and sucking each one before moving further down your body to suck hickey’s into the skin on your ribcage and waist, a reminder to you that he had been there.

His mouth doesn’t hesitate to move over your clit either. He moves with ease, like he had done this a hundred times. If your mind wasn’t so clouded over with lust, you’d be irritated with how good he was at this. But his tongue massages into you and you moan, hands holding his face against you as your hips gently rock up into him. His hands find your inner thighs, pushing them apart and opening you further. His tongue dances deliciously across your pussy, dipping down to push into your aching hole. You gasp at the feeling, head falling back as you moan out. He fucks you with his tongue, his own hips grinding against the couch cushions as he listens to your sweet moans fill the room.

When he can’t take it anymore, he moves back up your body, gripping the base of his cock in his hand and rubbing the tip right against your entrance. He glances up at you for permission. Just as his eyes meet yours, you’re pulling him down for a kiss. Your tongue moves against his, lapping up the taste of your essence in his mouth, the flavor mixing with the red wine from earlier.

He pushes into you for the first time, sucking in a breath through his teeth at the feeling of your walls encasing him. His face is buried in the crook of your neck, concentrating on the feeling of you wrapped around him. Your arms circle his waist, fingernails digging into the skin of his back as he bottoms out inside of you.

“Fuck, s’tight,” he slurs, accent coming through slightly as his brain focuses on the way his body feels.

He’s motionless against you, trying to give your body a chance to relax.

“Move,” you whisper to him. “Please… ‘Samu.”

He moans into your hair as he pulls his hips back and slowly pushes back into you. You gasp out as he sets the slowest pace known the mankind, focused on dragging this out so he can feel every inch of you hugging him.

“Faster,” you tell him, becoming frustrated with his slow pace.

He sits back on his knees, eyes falling to where the two of you are connected as his hands hold your hips. Your pussy clenches under his gaze and his head falls back at the feeling. When he looks back down at you, it’s like a fire has been lit behind his eyes. He pulls you down, fitting your ass flush against his thighs before he fits his hands under your knees and pushes them to your chest.

You let out a small shriek in surprise and he pushes deeper into you, watching your face contort in pleasure as he hits a new depth inside of you. With that, he begins rocking his hips into you, setting a steady pace. But it’s not enough.

“Harder,” you moan out. If he just fucked you a little bit harder, he could hit that spot so nicely.

His hips stutter for a second before he gets his bearings back and begins fucking into you harder, the sound of his skin hitting yours echoing in the room.

“So sexy,” he whispers, and you almost miss it. He’s holding back the praises with an unbelievable amount of control. He doesn’t know what you like, but he’d like to find out.

“Fuck,” he groans out as he watches the way his dick enters you over and over. “Look at ya.”

Your hands fist into the fabric of your couch cushions as your orgasm approaches. “’Samu,” you call out. You hold your arms out to him, wanting to be close to him. He covers your body with his, your arms locking around his neck as his hands lock on the crown of your head. He continues fucking you like this, with your legs wrapped so tightly around his hips, his cock burying so deliciously into you over and over.

“I could fuck ya all day,” he whispers into your hair, accent really coming through as he loses all sense of control.

You moan below him, warning him of your approaching orgasm just as it crashes through your body in waves. He continues fucking you through it, pulling out to spill his own orgasm right onto your navel with a soft moan of your name.

The air is still around you both as you come down, breathing haggard. You don’t say anything as you come back down to reality, embarrassment making its way through your bones. You shield your face from him with your hands. Osamu doesn’t speak and doesn’t try to move your hands. Instead, he hoists you up bridal style and carries you into your bathroom.

You keep your face covered even as he washes your body in the shower, the light from a single candle illuminating the room just enough that he can see his work. You don’t uncover your face until he tries to dry you off.

“I can do it,” you tell him softly, eyes darting away from his gaze when he tries to find it.

It’s not until you’re dressed and in bed, when he crawls in next to you and pulls you against him, that you open your mouth to talk about the events that had just transpired in your apartment.

“Osamu,” you start, but he’s quick to interrupt you.

“I like you,” he mumbles, face pressed in between your shoulder blades, arms tightening around your waist. “I don’t know how, or when, but I like you, Y/N.”

You’re frozen, unsure how to respond to his confession.

“Be with me.”

#haikyuu smut #osamu smut #miya osamu smut #osamu x reader #miya osamu x reader #two drabbles in two weeks?#who am i #look at me go #if you hate this #tell me #if you love this #tell me all your thoughts and opinions #i want to hear them all

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