Haikyuu x reader one shots inspired by music ;)
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#7 akaashixreader
#13 sfw
#33 oikawaxreader
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Requested by: Yaoi_Hanjo
WARNINGS : Suicide. Sexual assault. Please read at your own discretion. Please reach out if suffering from suicidal thoughts. You and your life are precious. National Canadian Suicide Prevention Hotline : 1-833-456-4566 National USA Suicide Prevention Hotlines : 1-800-273-8255 or 1-888-628-9454 or 1-800-799-4889 (deaf and hard of hearing options)
I'm in my bed And you're not here
A lump body cries out to no one in particular. He wants to run. He wants to hide. Burning forceful hands dig deeply in the flesh of his small, sensitive body. An eerie silence replaces the screams of a younger body and drunk mumbles of an older one in the cold winter room. Even the rush of blood in his paranoid mind is never enough to block out the shameful loud grunts from behind him. Even the dark cover of the night is never sufficient to block out the picture hanging across from the youngling. The same three people. Hand in hand. Toe to toe. Nowhere to hide. Nowhere to go.
Forget what I said It's not what I meant
She runs to you; heels on the marble floor, her yellow skirts swindles with the breeze. Her scent surrounds you in familiar fresh tones of flowers, love and serenity. You wish to stay like this forever: wrapped in her protection, away from anyone's sight, away from any questions. You hug her closer, a stream of silent tears makes its way down your soft face, her delicate fingers ruffle your messy locks in a warm embrace. You call out to her, shaky and weak.
And I can't take it back I can't unpack the baggage you left
You look at her: mouth agape, hazel eyes wide open in disbelief. As if she is a deer, shielding its young baby from the passing thunderstorm. The thunderstorm is here. Right in front of her. You call out to her. She does not speak.
What am I now? What am I now? What if I'm someone I don't want around?
You feel warm crimson liquid spread across your abdomen. You look down at the cold material clenched in your small hands. A metal knife sticks in your mother. She looks at another thunderstorm behind you. She never speaks.
I'm falling again I'm falling again
Your mother looks up at you. You look down. You do not see her. You hold the knife in your hands. Your hands remain in his. He holds you tight. Tobacco and cheap beer poison your nostrils. Sharp teeth puncture your neck. The knife remains in your hands. You do not use it on him. You can not when everyone watches. The knife refuses to hinder from his warm grasp. You stand there. He bites your neck. They talk. You do nothing. They laugh. He laughs. You disappear. Your father laughs again.
