Tag: moamiswriting

Hinata’s smile darkens and dies when Tobio calls him ‘dumbass’ one time too much. Their teammates try to warn him, whisper something behind raised hands, and Tobio remembers – fuck, Hinata just failed a test, his sister’s sick, family problems and other shit – but he still yelled at him for a missed spike. 

“It’s fine,” Hinata says during break, choking on the water he swallows too quickly, water on his neck and too much salt on his cheeks. 

“I didn’t mean it,” Tobio says. He wipes Hinata’s face with his thumbs, too clumsy and a bit awkward, but the touch of his forehead against Hinata’s is as gentle as someone like him can manage. “You’re good the way you are.” 

And Hinata stares, the sunlight caught in his amber eyes becoming bright again, as warmth spreads over his mouth. He nods, wild and enthusiastic, and Tobio feels a small hand squeeze his own before Hinata bolts onto the field again, shouting: “Toss to me, Kageyama!” 

It’s the night of his last chance to dance with Iwa, but Tooru breaks his promise. The ballroom is bursting with silk and dark suits, pastel-soft dresses and black, elegant gowns everywhere. It’s midnight when everyone cheers and glasses touch with silvery chinks when Tooru whirls around, laughing, eyes searching for Iwa to press his champagne flute against Iwa’s, and that’s when he sees it. The girls that kisses Iwa is pretty, gorgeous even with her long, golden lashes and a pink mouth that shines in the dim ballroom light. 

Tooru gently sets his glass onto a table. Iwa opens his eyes, sees him, pushes the girl away, his mouth falling open in a blur of Tooru’s last name, ‘no, wait, Oika – Tooru!’ 

He runs. Her dress was beautiful, she was beautiful, Iwa deserves only the best and that’s what he’s never been, never enough, not a girl and not anything at all. 

Tooru cries alone. Maybe it’s stupid to go to the old basketball field behind the school, where they used to practice, but he still does. His fingers find the sideline where he slumps down, the dirty sand where he once stepped into a shard of glass and cried so hard that his vision blurred. How Iwa looked so horrified and scared that he made Tooru promise something – “don’t you ever cry again, understood? I won’t let you cry again.” 

“Oikawa.” And of course, he wipes his tears, gets his stupid ass up and turns around, smile beaming as always, oh he wears it perfect like a mask with bloody war paint. “Iwa-chan, there you are, haha, I bet you were really busy with – “ 

“You promised.” Tooru’s broken laughter dies out. Iwa steps forward, fast, corners him against the metal fence, and Tooru’s always been weak to him, his everything. “What? Iwa, I don’t – “ 
“That you wouldn’t cry again, idiot. You promised me that.” There’s a warm thumb touching his cheek, catching his tears with the skin he’s grown to love more than his own soul. 

“Promise me again. Once more,” Iwa says, breath rough against Tooru’s shaking mouth. “That I won’t taste salt on your lips ever again.” 

And when Iwa pulls him close to his heart, the softness of his mouth melting into Tooru’s sobs, Tooru thinks that he can promise it for real, this time. 

The word “foster” almost sounds like forest, and Tobio loves forests almost as much as he loves thinking about what having a friend would be like. 

That’s why he isn’t scared when a man and a woman pick him up from that strange place one day and say something about “foster parents”. The new house is clean and warm, and Tobio’s eyes are wide when he sees the soft bed in a room that the woman says belongs to him. Late at night, when he can’t sleep because it’s really dark, he hears them say his name, whispered like it’s a secret. They say more things. “what drugs do to people, poor child” – and then the woman says a black, black word. It sounds like “a-b-lose” without the l, and Tobio doesn’t like it. He pulls the covers over his head and wonders when he’s going to go back to his mama, and if she’s going to be awake again then from her deep, kinda cold sleep, and maybe she’ll even cook him rice pudding. 

Years later, he’s not dumb anymore. Karasuno is a family without fitting the word even remotely, a team where he’s not the only one with feathers missing from his wings. They’re a team, and Kageyama is the one who sharpens their claws and levels all mountains in their way into dust. 

And then, there’s Hinata, and Kageyama finds out that he doesn’t need to fly when he can watch how Hinata rises in an arc of gold, a burst of hope surrounding him like a halo that Kageyama knows he’s lost a long time ago. 

It’s Hinata who’s one out of a million. He’s the soft “can I?” whispered into his ear, every time without laughing, before leaning his forehead against Kageyama’s shoulder after Kageyama chokes out a broken “y-yeah, god yes”. He’s the fingers barely brushing over Kageyama’s wrist, never gripping, only lingering with a breathtaking gentleness that Kageyama, that Tobio thought he would never deserve. 

It’s always Kageyama. 

It’s Kageyama who dives forward to catch him when Shouyou’s foot snaps with a horrifying sound right after he’s spiked their winning point. The whole team moves like a storm when he cries in pain, because it hurts so, so bad – but it’s Kageyama who slams himself on the ground, careless, catching Shouyou and pressing him against his chest so he doesn’t fall right onto his face. He’s the one who pets his hair and whispers dumb, sweet things while the doctor x-rays his foot, and not even Tsukishima says something when Kageyama starts to carry him around school whenever Shouyou gets frustrated with his crutches. 

It’s always Kageyama, Shouyou thinks and buries his nose in Kageyama’s hair when he lifts him up after practice to bring him to his mom’s car in front of the gym. He’s the only boy in the world who’s cute when he blushes, and he’s the only boy or girl that Shouyou kisses on the cheek before slamming the car door shut, shyness suddenly overwhelming him so he buries his face in both hands. 

Kageyama keeps on carrying him, wordless, and when Shouyou’s foot is healed, he finally returns the kiss and presses his soft, warm mouth against Shouyou’s. 

for cherrymoyaya. Happy Birthday, dearest. ♥ Enjoy your day, and here is a little bit of Eruri for you!
nsfw. body worship. rimming. 

“You deserve gentleness, Levi.” 

His back arches in a pale crescent, and Levi bites down hard on his mouth to hold a loud moan inside. Erwin has pushed his legs open, rough fingers sliding over his body like he’s something precious, a treasure to be adored and worshipped. “I – God, why would you – “ A kiss onto his shoulder, the sharp tendon on the curve of his neck, a tongue dragging lazily over his sweat-stained skin. 

“Let me, please,” Erwin mumbles quietly into his neck, and his hips press against Levi’s body, stilling his nervous flailing in the sheets. Shit, it shouldn’t be like this – Erwin is supposed to fuck him hard and rough and violent, with a hand pulling his hair so perfectly, knocking the thin air out of Levi’s screaming lungs with every breath. 

But tonight, Erwin smiles like Levi told him about the sadness of war or a lost love, and there’s a trace of darkness clouding his eyes. He leans down to kiss Levi, breathless as always, but Levi tastes a softness in the warm licks of Erwin’s tongue that’s foreign, like musk and a summer’s night exhale. He pulls away and slides his legs onto Erwin’s shoulders, putting the best grin onto his face, eyes falling half-lidded. “Come on, come on – you just have to – “ 

“Not tonight, sweetest. Tonight, I’ll be adoring all of you, and I’m going to take my time until you know that you deserve all the gentleness in the world.” 

And when Erwin kisses the hollow of Levi’s throat, placing his mouth right above the pulsing life in Levi’s veins, it’s over. His body gives in, falls, the softness of Erwin’s touches and the fucking reverence echoing in his every cell, oh God, what is this man and why, why would he love a bird with broken wings like Levi?

Erwin’s gorgeous cock rests hard against Levi’s thigh, but when he reaches down to touch, to run his fingers over the silky skin and tease in a way he’s best at, Erwin slides away. His goddamn large hands feel like they burn on Levi’s skin as they trace along his sides, adoring the sharp joints of his ribs with soft, reverent touches. Erwin hums against his stomach when he kisses it, and Levi’s breath explodes in his lungs. He lets go, mouth falling open in a dark, growling moan, legs twitching higher up Erwin’s neck. “F-fuck, I – God, I can’t – “ 

Erwin is silent, the smile on his mouth dangerously warm. His mouth barely grazes Levi’s hard cock, lips only touching the wet, flaring red head with a flick of his tongue. Levi bucks up, cries, hands tangling in the mess of Erwin’s hair, and his thighs close around his lover’s head when Erwin breathes a shuddering burst of air against the slick heat of Levi’s hole where he’s fucked him open torturously slow on his fingers before. 

Erwin is slow when he eases Levi into falling, like a gentle pressure in the back of his head, making him submit with a simple glance from dark blue eyes. His body trembles, arches off the bed in a violent shiver, his ears tingling when his own scream echoes within the room’s small space. Erwin licks deep and warm into him, sucks and bites, oh he fucking bites the tiniest bit into the heat of Levi’s insides, teeth grazing and dragging, careful but hot, searing, “Oh God – ”, Erwin’s breath piercing through all his senses, taking him whole, overwhelming, and he falls, collapses. – 

When his body rocks forward in one fluid thrust, fire ripping through his veins, Erwin comes up again with sweat and lube smeared all over his grinning mouth. Levi watches him lick up his come, warm tongue dragging over his softening cock. He doesn’t know how to breathe anymore, what air tastes like, but all that Levi needs is Erwin, that man who now starts to kiss his neck all over again, who covers him in love and strong hands and never flinches, not even through Levi’s darkest and scariest and most horrifying moments. 

“Don’t tease me like that ever again,” Levi says, cheeks a crimson blush, when Erwin buries his nose into the crown of his hair. But Erwin doesn’t promise, he just smiles, and maybe that’s just what Levi always wished for, in the end. 

When the war drums called them to their last battle, Levi obeyed Erwin’s orders with a salty kiss to his chapped lips and whispered, just one more time before the dust of metal and fear swallowed him:

“Whenever you call me, I’ll come back to you. If you can still say my name, I’ll return.”

“Hinata. Hey, listen to me!”

“Wh-what is it? You look scary again.” 

“Shut up. I just – I fucking love you, okay, I – “ 

“…more than volleyball?” 

“…”

“Sorry, I – of course not, you – “ 

“No, not more. More like, equally. ‘cause you are the volleyball I play, and you’re kind of everything I like about it. You’re like – “ 

“Now y-you shut up, oh my god. Stop talking and kiss – mhm. Hmm.”

“…good?”

“Kageyama, you idiot. Yeah. Really good.” 

He’s never going to understand this strange mystery called love, but Levi thinks that he doesn’t have to. Not anymore. Not with Erwin’s mouth cupping his own so gently, tongue licking warm and wet against his bottom lip, biting and sucking until Levi’s body is tingling with fucking fire. He doesn’t have to understand, because Erwin does, and his smile when he whispers “Levi, my Levi” belongs to no one else but him. 

“Why don’t you fucking understand! I can’t – I just can’t let myself love you. ‘cause I ruin every damn thing, every relationship. And you… you’re too important for me to hurt. Hin – Shouyou, I couldn’t hurt you even if my life depended on it.” A deep breath. His voice shakes, and then Kageyama pushes Shouyou out of their warm embrace, hands still oh so gentle even now. 

“You deserve better. You deserve so, so much more than just me.”

And there it is. Kageyama is crying. Shouyou doesn’t know what to say, because this is horrible and all of his nightmares, that this stupid boy (no, young man) he’s fallen in love with cries before his eyes. That it should be ugly – Kageyama burying his face in both hands, hurt little noises coming from the back of his throat. He hasn’t cried since they were first years, the whole team quietly mourning along a dinner table with food tasting bitter in their mouths. 

“Oh, shut up.” Shouyou takes a step, two, his hands finding the salt-wet skin of Kageyama’s cheeks. And when Shouyou kisses him, soft and tiny and so utterly different from all the wild energy he usually is, Kageyama fucking sobs. 

“You – you – Hin… Shouyou. Shouyou.” 

“We’ll be okay,” is what Shouyou whispers against Tobio’s trembling lips, kissing him again and again until his own warmth vibrates in Tobio’s chest, blood rushing skin on skin, fingers lacing up into a net of forever, always, yes. Yes to him, goddamn yes. “We’ll be good. You’re all I got and all I want. Now really, learn to shut up and kiss me.”

And Tobio laughs, breath hitching, and carefully cups Shouyou’s head before kissing him once more.