#Kita fanfic

[bokutoko]

you've never told kita your favorite flowers.

and yet here they were, another couple of them in a little vase—your favorite vase—on the kitchen counter, like always. you stared at the blooming buds, as if they were taunting you, your mind struggling to remember if you’d ever even mentioned them your fiancé.

your thoughts were quickly interrupted upon the familiar crunch, crunch, crunch of the grass beneath the footsteps of a familiar gait. shinsuke walked in through the back, so beautiful and so sweaty after taking his boots off on the porch.

“evenin’, sweetheart,” he greeted with his same gentle smile, coming to give you a quick kiss on the forehead. you hummed with a soft smile as he went straight to the sink to wash his hands.

“you smell,” you teased, earning a little laugh from your love.

“do i?” he asked with a knowing look, “thought i’d smell like peaches and wildflowers.”

apparently, your greeting smile and little joke was not enough to hide the serious brainpower you were using to try and figure out when the hell—

“i sense that brain workin’,” kita commented as he scrubbed and dried his hands, his voice gentle, “what’cha thinkin’ about?”

“when did I ever tell you my favorite flower?” you blurted out before actually thinking, and you inwardly cringed, sounding like some petulant little kid.

real smooth.

kita’s brows furrowed slightly in confusion at her question, looking to the vase in the kitchen. “i mean, i knew ya liked flowers ‘cause we always walk past that one florist in town when we’re out... but your eyes light up just a lil’ bit more when he’s got these in the window.”

your cheeks turn hot, not realizing he noticed things like that. clearing your throat, you awkwardly mumble, “didn’t know i had a stalker on my hands.”

kita couldn’t help but let out a chuckle, the rich, low laugh still making your heart race and the butterflies in your tummy flutter. “yer the one who said yes to marryin’ me, sweetheart,” he said with a slightly crooked grin, coming over to rest his hands on the curve of your waist, “it ain’t creepin’—i just pay attention.”

a/n: I AM ALIVE!! i was in the TRENCHES with my classes last semester (irls know the pain), but i am back (i think)!

masterlist | navigation

please do not copy, alter, or repost my work. ©bokutoko 2025.

[narumi-gens]

I would propose this very instant if you brought back the yakuza kita fic.

this has been floating around in my mind and will somehow find its way into an eventual yakuza!kita follow-up.

ink | yakuza!kita shinsuke x f!reader

note: mini follow-up to traditional values (but can prob be read on its own) warnings: yakuza au, arranged marriage, hint of yandere, mentions of masturbation and orgasm control, reader is a brat lol

minors, ageless, and blank blogs do not like, reblog, or comment

"I want a reward."

Kita has only just closed the front door with a mild "tadaima" when you plant yourself firmly in front of the genkan. He hasn't even had time to slip off his shoes.

"Do ya deserve one?" he asks simply, seemingly unperturbed by being so suddenly confronted by you.

"I haven't gotten into any trouble. I've played nice with everyone. I've stayed here in the boring countryside with only my phone and the TV for entertainment. I've been good," you whine with a pout.

You've been in Hyogo for almost two weeks by this point -- at Kita's insistence of course. He said a visit was important to help you acclimate to what your life would look like after you were officially married. However, you have doubts about this "visit" considering you have yet to hear when you'll be returning to Tokyo.

"What kinda reward do ya think you've earned?" His tone and expression are both calm and your hopes begin to rise.

"A night out in Osaka." A quick flash of danger passes in his eyes and your hopes come crashing back down.

"No." With just a single word, you feel like you've had the back of your hand slapped away when trying to reach for something you shouldn't have.

"But Shin-kun, I've done everything you've asked and we're not even married yet! I've been good! It's not fair!" You can't help the way your arms fold across your chest or your pout deepens. You do manage to keep from childishly stomping your foot.

"If ya keep behavin' like this, ya won't be getting any reward." As usual, he doesn't need to raise his voice for you to know that you're toeing a line that it would be in your best interest not to cross. You relent with a huff.

"Fine. Then there's something else I want," you say and he gives you a flat look.

"I already told ya yer not coming until we're married."

You roll your eyes. You've heard that enough by this point in your engagement to know that it's an exercise in futility to even bother pleading asking.

"No. Something else."

He raises an eyebrow and it's all the permission you need to continue. Your posture straightens and your arms unfold to hang down at your sides.

"I want to see your tattoos." Although his expression doesn't change, there's a momentary hint of surprise in his eyes, clearly not having expected such a request.

You wonder if your own expression betrays your eagerness. While you've seen his tattooed forearms from afar when he's rolled up his shirtsleeves, it's only ever been a small taste of what's etched upon his skin and hidden beneath fabric.

Lately, when you've found yourself in bed with your fingers buried in your pussy, your walls clenching around them and your clit swollen the overwhelming and months-long need to come, all you can imagine is what he's chosen for the centerpiece tattoo that dominates his back.

Nothing you envision ever seems to fit the strict and traditional image of the Inarizaki's kumicho. A dragon seems too cliché. A tiger seems too egotistic. A samurai is too aggressive and an oni too vulgar.

So, when the corner of Kita's lip twitches briefly upward, your breath catches with excitement. Wordlessly, he steps closer to where you stand on the edge of the genkan. With the height advantage of the step, you're almost able to directly meet his gaze without looking up.

When he slips off his black jacket and hands it to you, you carefully fold it over your arms. You can tell that something in the gesture pleases him -- whether it's the submissiveness or domesticity, you're not sure. You're not inclined to offer any protest as he begins to unbutton his white dress shirt with nimble fingers.

With every inch of skin that's slowly revealed, you can feel yourself growing wetter, the fabric of your underwear beginning to cling uncomfortably to your slick folds. When the final button comes undone, you clench your thighs together, pitifully acknowledging it's the only taste of satisfaction that you'll see.

As the shirt slides down his arms, he passes it for you to take and you mindlessly hang it over the jacket already on your arm. Your eyes greedily drink in the expansive swaths of color that cover almost every inch of his skin.

Aside from an inch-wide strip of unmarred skin extending from his neck past the waist of his pants, his entire upper body is etched with traditional yakuza imagery of swirling black clouds and blossoming flowers. You don't miss the rice stalks interspersed throughout the designs.

You find yourself entranced by the design of the fox that stretches from over his left shoulder to cover his heart. It mirrors the traditional ukiyo-e style, only it remains uncolored and you instantly know it's meant to portray the divine white kitsune. Your gaze follows its form back up to his shoulder where it disappears from your sight.

When you finally lift your eyes to meet his, the hunger that you see in them is almost enough to make you moan aloud. Your thighs clench together again in a pathetic search for what little relief you can find.

"I want to see the back," you eventually tell him, your voice breathless.

"Do ya deserve a second reward?" His own voice sounds deeper to your ears and you wonder how many nights he's denied himself pleasure between your thighs in service of controlling yours.

The implied threat that he may put his shirt back on and deny you the chance to see the centerpiece of his tattooed body is almost as bad as his denial of your orgasms. Your desperation drives you to your knees and you fold your legs beneath you in a traditional seiza.

"Please, Shin-kun," you beg as you look up at him with wide, pleading eyes. "I've been good!"

A hint of affection briefly crosses his face and he leans down to give the top of your head a gentle kiss. His hand then grabs your jaw and he firmly guides you back to your feet.

"Yeah, ya have been good, ain't ya?" he hums thoughtfully and something almost nearing amusement tugs at his lips when you nod your head eagerly in his hand in response.

Deciding to placate you, he slowly drags a thumb across your plush bottom lip, letting the tip of it dip into your mouth and brush against your tongue before he drops his hand altogether.

And finally, finally, he turns around so that you can see what he's chosen to have permanently inked across the skin of his broad back.

When you see the artwork, you can't help the grin that grows on your face at your own foolishness. How stupid you are to have ever thought it could be anything else.

Painted in shades of black, green, yellow, blue, and red is the figure of a woman with two uncolored foxes at her feet standing in a lush field of rice that's ready to be harvested.

Of course traditional Kita Shinsuke, head of Kansai's most powerful yakuza group, who comes from a long line of rice farmers, and shuns the city to spend his evenings in the Hyogo countryside, has a tattoo of Inari Ōkami -- the kami of foxes and rice.

[str4ngr]

𝐭𝐰𝐨 𝐢𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐨𝐧𝐞 [ 𝐊𝐈𝐓𝐀 𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐄 ]

𝐨𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝟏𝟐 | 𝗱𝗼𝘂𝗯𝗹𝗲 𝗽𝗲𝗻𝗲𝘁𝗿𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻 |

cw: suggestive, establish relationship, toys, kinda gn! reader but lowkey fem!reader but j ignore that

notes: double penetration is the act inserting multiple penis'/dildos or a mix of both, into an orifice of a partner.

𝐊𝐈𝐓𝐀 was always a very straight forward person. never once did he worry about how to say something to you, not because he didn't care, but because he trusts you, he loves you.

so it was no surprise when he brought this up to you,

"w-what?"

your voice squeaks out, mouth ajar as you stare up at him. He had just got out of the shower, washing the sweat from the beating sun of the fields of, leaving you the unbelievably seductive view of your husband.

"I was asking, tonight, or another if thats better for you, could i use a dildo on you as well?"

it was almost like you didn't hear him, your face still as you stare at him, mug and phone in each hand as you buffer through each hand. you couldn't help the curiously that spilled from you lips, inking your sudden words, blurting out your question,

"like-... like- how??"

kita's face looked twisted, smug, arousal, lust, all intermixing in his hazel eyes, glancing down at your finger as his bare figure stepped toward you, the loose towel shifting on his hips. he couldn't stop himself, his hands running down your arms, eyes glazing over your figure like he was staring at his last meal,

"maybe... maybe at the same time i was having you?"

he sighed just as his words ended, almost like he couldn't keep himself together at the idea, as though his mind was already elsewhere,

"maybe... maybe in the same hole.... stretch your little hole out..."

hands trembling by your side, you stared up at his distracted lips, your breath shuddering in awkward pace as his hands rose goosebumps in their wake.

suddenly, his eyes flicked up to meet yours, burning with a dark lust so common in your seemingly innocent husbands eyes,

"so?"

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

kinktober be exhausting me do not expect fics after this shift swear to god :'(. i'm so tired but every time i look at who im writing next i start giggling and kicking my feet so idk what kind of high and fall this is but go off.

༒︎ 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫; 2023 ༒︎

directory

[makkir0ll]

between you and your husband, you were the one more…vocal about your love for him. leaving him sweet notes with doodles of the two of you in his lunch, ending all heartfelt messages with x’s, planting a big kiss on his cheek that he pretended to cringe at but in reality he looked forward to it everytime he left the house.

people would always come up to you, telling you that he doesn’t reciprocate his love with words and such and asking you how you dealt with it. truth be told it took a while for you to get used to but soon enough you began to see the signs.

it was the way that every time he got up in the middle of the night to use the bathroom he would tuck your feet back into bed. the way he spent a solid twenty minutes cleaning your phone screen, and with furrowed brows as he placed your new screen protector on, making sure there were no bubbles. it was when you opened his wallet that you saw all the notes you wrote him saved in one pocket of his shitty leather wallet that was begging to be put to rest. it's the way when you come home after a long night out with your friends he takes his time undressing you, removing and placing your jewelry carefully on your bedside table and making sure to gently take off your makeup and of course do your skincare routine that he has memeorized. when he goes out and he spots a little something with your favorite character on it he buys it immediately, not bothering to look at the price tag because the way your eyes would light up when he brought home the little gift was worth more than a billion dollars to him.

it was when on your third month anniversary when the two of you were still dating, while the two of you sat down on the booth next to each other at a restaurant he held your hand and squeezed it three times. signifying the words, i love you. he knew he loved you from the start but was scared it was too soon to say it and this was his silent way of telling you so. and you picked up on it quickly when he started to do it more often.

and on your wedding day, as the two of you stand in front of all your loved ones and the officiator he says the most beautiful vows ever, telling you that "if death do us part then i hope to find you in every lifetime" and once he ended with that sentence, he squeezed your hand three times. i. love. you.

you always knew your husband loved you because his actions spoke a thousand words to you.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜

sigh. TSUKISHIMA FREAKING KEI!!!!!!!!, akaashi keiji (he writes notes back to you), KITA. SHINSUKE., iwaizumi hajime (30) athletic trainer, suna rintarou, USHIJIMA, kageyama tobio (squeezed your hand a lot when you started dating), MIYA OSAMU, sakusa kiyoomi, OH OH OH AONE!!,

[adorerio]

Whatever you say captain

---------------------------------------------------

haikyuu ! captains and how they plot on fem!reader because who doesn't love a guy that puts in the work

fluffy fluff ~ word count: 1.8k

---------------------------------------------------

Daichi he first met you during 1st year and was instantly hooked. Maybe because it was how you carried yourself or your personality but he knew for sure he would make you his girlfriend. Now just because he met you during 1st year didn't mean he made his move then. Nope, he made it during 3rd year.

Daichi He started small (with the help of Kiyoko and Hachi) first it was compliments.

"your hair looks lovely l/n"

"you gotta tell me how you always make people smile"

"you really are funny l/n"

Daichi then started inviting you to practices because he wanted to show off needed a 3rd opinion on his new move. This was all part of his plan which was to impress you sooo much you would ask for his number. Did it work?

nope

Daichi showing off didn't work neither did his constant compliments so now what was left?

"KIYOKO PLEASE LET ME HAVE HER NUMBERR"

"No, ask for it instead. She likes a guy who has confidence."

and so that's what he was going to do man up and ask for it himself.

Daichi who after class sprinted to your class to catch you and ask for it. When he did make it he saw you talking with your group of friends

"excuse me ladies may I borrow l/n for a moment?"

your friends who started teasing and whispering about how you actually pulled

"shes all yours"

After your friends left it was awkward for just a moment he was trying to put it into words I mean it was supposed to be simple right? But-

"Is there something you need Sawamura?"

"oh right, well l/n I've been trying to court you all year which maybe it was my fault for not being straight forward but is it possible I could get your number? So we can get to know each other and maybe ask you out?"

He scaratched his neck waiting for your response..

"well I'm free right now if you want to come with me to a cafe.."

"that would be lovely then l/n"

--------------------------------------------------

Bokuto he first met you because you were friends with Akaashi. Now he noticed you really didn't have friends to hang out with during break and lunch. So he started inviting you to hang out with him and Akaashi and a trio was created.

Bokuto after a few months of your new found friendship he started getting that feeling. He was always nervouse around you and definitely always wanted to be in your good graces. Of course he didn't realize it was a crush until he saw another 2nd year try to ask for your number. Now he knew he would not let you give your number away to anyone that wasn't him. Even tho he already had it.

Bokuto now his approach to plotting wasn't the best but it was definitely something- scare off any guy until he was your last option. Did he even realize he was being overprotective? No, but it was bound to work at some point. Or that's at least what he was telling himself.

Bokuto It actually took you a while to find out what was happening. After another case of ghosting you started to question it. Was it your appearance? Or the long distance? Of course you would tell your friends about your problem and how you scared away guys.

"Wait so there just ghosting you? They clearly don't know what their missing y/n"

"Yes they just are! I don't even know why it's happening Keiji"

"Its because of me y/n!!"

"Whatever do you mean Ko?"

"Because they aren't worthy of courting you y/n so I tell them to go away"

"Why would you even do that?"

"Because I want to be the person who courts you not someone from Karasuno"

Bokuto got a talking too after his little confession about how that wasn't the way to get your attention but safe to say you did give him that chance and in the future its something you would never end up regretting.

--------------------------------------------------

Oikawa now he definitely thought something was wrong with you. You were never apart of his group of fans and never reacted differently towards him. Games you attended? You would cheer on anyone BUT him. And this, caught his eye. He was gonna make it his mission to get you to go out with him one way or another.

Oikawa since he had never struggled before trying to charm a lady he was more confused then ever how was he supposed to do this? Well the only thing that came to mind was make you feel special. This resulted in you being embarrassed ever single time.

Oikawa every single set he would do during a game? Point you out and give you a wink. During school he would start ignoring his fans and would only talk to his team or you. He always offered to carry your bag or help you with work but you were still warry about his true feelings towards you.

Oikawa hoping he at least he made his intentions clear to you he would now leave small stuff at your desk. Sometimes it was small snacks with a note, or a small tricket that reminded him of you.

Oikawa the way he finally got you to agree on a date was when he gave you a boquet of your favorite flowers. It was special to you because you had only told him once what flower it was and he had still remembered it.

"Here l/nn its your favorite flowers just for you"

"You still rememeber what type of flowers I like?"

"Of course and I'll keep remembering small details about you - like how when your favoring song plays you start forgetting the worlds around you just to pay attention to the lyrics."

Now this had touched your heart, after weeks of chasing you maybe it was time to allow him to ask you out. Because he had clearly put effort into this.

"Fine, just one date trashykawa"

"You wont regret it l/n!"

--------------------------------------------------

Ushijima he didn't even know he was "courting" you until Semi told asked him when he was going to ask you out.

"You know l/n is a sweet girl why haven't you asked her out yet? I'm sure she already likes you."

"What on earth are you talking about? I havent been courting our manager-"

Lets just say it hit him like a brick when he started connecting the dots that it did LOOK like he was indeed courting you.

Ushijima You were the manager of the team and dealing with a group of teenage boys wasn't easy- so he as the captain of the team decided he would be the one to show his gratitude. He would give you chocolates every day after practice or invite you to grab lunch with him alone.

Ushijima after thinking about it for days about how own feelings towards you he decided he was going to invite you on a real date. Because even if he wasnt completely sure about how he felt he wanted to at least give it a try. So, one day after practice as you were cleaning and packing up everything he decided to shoot his shot.

"l/n are you perhaps free this evening?"

"Yeah I don't have any plans. Is there a reason for asking?"

"I was wondering if you would like to accompany me on a walk in the park. It would be nice having someone - you around"

"Sure! let me go get my stuff and I'll meet you outside."

"Yes absolutely, its a date then."

As he walked away you stood there dumfounded, he finally had the balls to ask you out huh.

--------------------------------------------------

Kuroo now he was crushing on you HARD. But, he always found it hard to talk to you. Different group of friends, different hobbies, different clubs there was practically no way to start a conversation without it being difficult.

The 3rd years were preparing for the English final when your teacher suggested forming study groups within the class so you could prepare. Now this was his chance.

Kuroo had to work up the courage to ask you to be his study buddy and when he did you were almost surprised that he asked you but you didn't say no. You moved your stuff to your left so he could sit next to you.

You started asking him what was his strong and weak points in English. When he asked the same thing back he wasn't focused on your answers, more like the view Infront of him. The way you talked and the way you explained things was magical.

Kuroo The two of you exchanged phone numbers so it was easier to communicate. You didn't say it was only to text about the final - so he started sending memes he found funny or goofy cat pictures in hopes of it turning into a conversation.

Of course the way you texted back was short and fast but when he sent you a meme of your favorite video game it was like he had found a cheat code. You started geeking out and explained the story and characters to him. Although he didn't know anything about the game it was certainly working and after talking about it until wee hours into the night you decided to call it off and go to sleep.

"Goodnight Kuroo thanks for listening to me yap lol"

"Of course l/n, I'll always listen to you talk."

You hearted the message and he knew this was only the beginning of a new found frienship and hopefully a relationship.

--------------------------------------------------

Kita he never really thought about dating he was always more focused on his studies and vollyball. You were more like a close friend then anything. Sure he thought you were cute but he believed there was nothing there but pure friendship.

"My parents aren't home I guess I'm gonna have to order food.."

"Y/n you cant cook?"

"Nope, my parents do"

"Well I believe I'm gonna have to teach you then"

"yayyy"

Kita 3 times a week Kita would go over to your house (with your parents permission) and show you the basics + a few recepies. He enjoyed spending time with you outside of school but something had changed inside of him. Maybe the proximity but the way you *preferred hair style while cooking* looked on you was mesmerizing.

Kita Knew your parents travelled alot for work and even days without a lesson he would leave a bento on your desk early in the morning enough for the whole day. Even if it was more work added to his plate he didn't mind doing it because it was for you.

Besides, the best way to get to someone is through the stomach.

I swear I don't have a favorite. Anyways that concludes my first post! I'm open to criticism on my writing!

[locomoqo]

me and my husband

— gitae kim x gn!reader

details: pure fluff, established relationship, gitae is ur hubby!

A/N: im doing fluff bc im still playing around with how to write gitae's character (also it's what the spin the wheel chose🌝)

Gitae isn't a perfect husband, but he tries his best to be a good one. He’ll only ever try for you. Through all the bloodshed he's faced and caused, you're the one good thing in his life—the only thing that keeps him grounded. At first, your affection threw him off, he'd never experienced anything like it. But he got used to it. He learned from you, and he tries to show it back, no matter how awkward it feels sometimes due to his bluntness.

He believes you deserve the best of everything. That’s why, even after he married you, he does his best to shield you from the darker parts of his world—the violence, the drugs, the chaos—even though you’re aware of the life he leads. You're his haven, his one escape from all the madness.

Gitae stood by the window, the faint glow of his cigarette the only light in the dark room. His jaw was tense, his mind racing with the events of the day—from the trades to the insignificants trying to grab his territory. He exhaled slowly, the smoke swirling around him like the shadows he walked in every day.

Then, he heard it, a soft rustling of the sheets behind him.

“Gitae?” your sleepy voice broke the silence, gentle but insistent. “What are you doing up? Come back to bed.”

His hardened expression softened instantly at the sound of your voice. Turning, he saw you curled up under the covers, your hair tousled from sleep. The sight of you made the weight on his shoulders a little lighter.

“Thinking about work again?” you asked when he slid back under the covers and sat beside you, leaning against the headboard.

He only hummed in response, taking another drag from his cigarette before tapping the ash into the tray beside the bed.

“You work too much,” you mumbled, reaching out to lace your fingers with his. Your hand, small and delicate, was a sharp contrast to his rough, calloused one. “You should be resting too.”

It was true. The bags under his eyes seemed to deepen every day, yet somehow, they suited him.

“You worry too much,” he said, leaving the still lit up cigarette in the tray. He glanced down at you, his eyes softer now.

“And you don’t worry enough,” you replied with a small frown, sitting up to look at him properly. “What will it take for you to listen to me?”

He let out a low chuckle, deep and rare, a sound reserved only for you. Leaning down, he kissed the top of your head, your familiar scent calming him more than anything else ever could. You pressed your cheek against his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.

“I missed you today,” you whispered, your voice barely above a breath. “You’ve been distant.”

He stilled for a moment, his hand pausing on your back. "Don't mean to be," he said quietly, his voice rough.

You looked up at him, studying his face before offering him that soft, reassuring smile you always gave when he let his guard down.

“I know,” you whispered, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips. It was slow, tender, and filled with warmth, spreading through him like a balm.

“I’ll make it up to ya,” he murmured, deepening the kiss as he cupped your cheek, pulling you closer.

You pulled away after a few minutes, just enough to catch your breath, your fingers tracing the strong line of his jaw. “I’ll forgive you if you go to sleep before you drive yourself crazy,” you teased, leaning over to put out his cigarette completely so he wouldn’t be tempted to pick it up again.

With a soft sigh, he gave in, letting you guide him down into the bed. You curled up next to him, his arm wrapped around you protectively. In that moment, he displayed a rare show of vulnerability—you're the only one who will ever hold his heart in the palm of your hand.

[struwberrii]

it’s so sweet ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪

you run a bakery across the street from onigiri miya, you and the owner, osamu miya, often visit each others stores. that led you to meeting suna rintarou, one of osamus childhood friends. how many warm chocolate chip cookies will it take to melt his icy heart <3

main masterlist

pairing : suna rintarou x f!reader

status : ongoing! ♡

taglist : comment to be added !

warnings/info : modern au, y/n is kind of girly, mentions of substance use and smoking, y/n also bakes and runs a bakery, suna is kind of sarcastic/mean, all characters are post time skip , maybe a love triangle teehee :)

it’s so sweet playlist

bakery playlist

onigiri miya playlist

it’s so sweet pinterest board

chapter 1 : the usual ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪

chapter 2 : dreamy desserts 🍰⋆⟡˖ ࣪

chapter 3 : terms and conditions ⋆⭒˚.⋆

[samubytheocean]

just making out with the boys.

Whatever love may be, at this moment he is in your arms. And oh, he is so pretty.

fluff, slightly suggestive if you’re in 5th grade or smth

You’re so in love. Sure, turned on, but before that, you’re so close to him. You want to be touched- a little bit closer, a little bit more directly- oh so desperately, but by only him. Everything else, even your own desires seem secondary. You want to be him. Some primal, instinctive thing you call love- hell whatever you call it- wanting all of your senses to be of him, to be in his skin, yeah. You’re in love with him.

You’re in his bed, the soft fabric smells like him. The prettiest boy in front of you, with his adorable messy hair and shirt all tugged. Revealing random patches of muscle either kissed, caressed or blushing. In the dim light, you only see the black through the feathering of his eyelashes. You can almost name each of it now. You’ve got such a tight grip on his chin, the heat when you move stays. Just like butter under hot knife, to him it feels like your touch will melt the skin, linger forever. No, he knows. He knows your grip will stay on him forever.

The sight almost makes you red. Or laugh. Or horny. Whatever it is, you brush the bruises on his skin, which at this point is yours. Yeah you did that. He is only yours. Honestly you don’t even have to look at the messy lipgloss remains on his cheeks to know that. His whole body is glowing with love for you, legs sprawled out and hands fidgeting on your outer thighs, the touch burning and downright dripping with sweat. But it’s sweet. He’s sweet. He really is. Like lemon meringue tart, or grapefruit ade, or cookie dough. Like apartment keys in a foreign city, like wine kissed rings and like two kids a dog- fuck you know you’re going insane right now. Drunk, stupid, irrational- yeah but you take the leap to name it as something else.

Love. That’s what you feel. As abstract as the concept is, at this moment you know the exact notion of it. In every sense, your heart recognizes it. As scary as saying you know something is, you don’t even care, because you feel him. He is right here, and he is loving on you. There’s no time tense attached to it. Just forever, yeah that stupid word, but yes forever, just you two forever. Verb, noun, adjective, whatever category of grammar love belongs to, fuck that because love is here. And love belongs to you.

He belongs to you.

And oh, he is so, so pretty.

AKAASHI, YAMAGUCHI, HINATA, BOKUTO, LEV, KITA, HIRUGAMI

YUUJI, YUTAAAAAA, CHOSO (dude yea choso), MEGUMI

ARMIN, and oh my, LEVI

[teamatsumu]

kinktober 2023 -> day 29

brat taming - kita shinsuke x reader

word count: 681

warnings: nsfw, smut, swearing, slight degradation, domination, kita being hella assertive

kinktober masterlist

Kita Shinsuke had a code.

He lived his life a certain way. A strict routine, repetition, a schedule he adhered to. There was a reason he was so meticulous in everything he did. He held himself to a high standard, and he expected that his actions would reflect said standard.

He also held you to a standard, and when you decided that you wanted to be a brat, he was more than willing to put you in your place and remind you how things need to be.

“Help me understand,” he murmured, voice almost inaudible due to your loud pants and whimpers. “What was going on in your head? What were you planning to achieve?”

You struggled in his grip again, though it was in vain considering the iron hold Kita’s arm had around your waist. His body served as your wall, steady and unwavering, holding you against him, your poor legs flailing on either side of his waist, trying and failing to squirm away from the rough fingers plunging in and out of you. Tears ran down your cheeks, the stimulation bordering on painful, yet Kita didn’t relent.

Everything about this was deliberate, as expected from someone like Kita. All the lights were on, a cool breeze was blowing in from the open window, covering your naked body with goosebumps. Kita was fully clothed, of course on purpose, making sure you felt that slight twinge of humiliation, a payback for how he had felt in front of his friends because you had been teasing him all night, leaving him with a very noticeable boner.

“And ya still won’t apologize.” He continued talking. “I’m surprised. See, I was sure ya knew better, sweetheart. Was sure I had taught ya better. I don’t tolerate bad behavior.”

You only continued to twitch and jerk, focused solely on the thick, calloused fingers moving inside you, burying knuckle-deep only to pull out, scraping your walls as he did, digging back in and hitting your g-spot until you cried out. It repeated, over and over, and you knew it wouldn’t stop. Not until you surrendered to him, until you apologized and admitted you were wrong. Kita had no problem continuing this constant torture, balancing you on the very edge but not letting you go over. And you didn’t know how long you could hold on to your stubborn refusal to give in to him.

“S-Shin…” You choked out, head lolling on his shoulder, hands fisting in his no longer well-ironed button up shirt.

“Hm?”

But you bit your tongue, feeling your useless pride stop you from apologizing. Kita sighed.

“Brat.”

He pulled his fingers out, drawing his hand back only to bring it forward with full force until it landed on your pussy with a resounding smack. You yelped, whole body jerking but once again unable to move away. Two more spanks followed until you were screaming, and then Kita buried his fingers in you once more.

“Now,” he began. “Wanna try that again?”

You weeped into his shoulder, a wet spot forming on the cloth there. It didn’t matter though, since his pants were already embarrassingly soaked by your juices.

“I’m sorry.” You gave in, wanting so badly to cum that you couldn’t take it anymore.

“Say it again.”

“I’m sorry.” You spoke louder this time.

“Again.”

And you kept going, even as Kita’s fingers sped up and even as he pushed you to orgasm, your mouth blabbering over and over how sorry you were as you shook and released all over his hand, as you rubbed your naked chest against his and rode your high. Broken sobs of the word were still spilling from your lips as Kita laid you down, finally shedding his own clothes and nudging the tip of his cock against your wet, abused hole.

“What don’t I tolerate, sweetheart?” His lips brushed your ear, cock entering you inch by slow inch.

“B-bad behavior.” You managed to choke out, jaw dropping at the stretch his dick brought, despite being fingered into oblivion mere seconds ago. Kita hummed in approval.

“Good girl.”

Taglist:

@bxbyyyjocelyn @thisbicc @lazuliquartz @dreamayy @kuroosluthoe @true-form-hoe @akumakitsune21 @cham0mil3-and-h0n3y @samisfunky @universal-s1ut @msbyomimi @dohwaesu @leothesquishy @n0tmykays @tsukiran @reyofsunshinelol @bleach-your-panties @galaneiaeris @leyra-giovanni @erenspersonalwh0re @peachesncats @soapsoftheworld @iwannabecamiloshovel @vintagevict0ria @smithieandy @moonlit-mizukage @snazzyturtles @argwein

A/N: For those whose tags arent working, im sorry! I tried and for some reason, your names wont show up in the mentions :( another way of being notified is to turn on my blog notifs for @teamatsumufics . I only reblog my fics there so it serves almost like being in a taglist!

[angelsleepinggurl]

𝐢'𝐥𝐥 𝐛𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐡𝐨𝐭 𝐦𝐞𝐬𝐬, 𝐬𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐥 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥 𝐢𝐧 𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐥𝐬

cw: fingering in a library

.⋅˚₊‧ 🜲 ‧₊˚ ⋅.⋅˚₊‧ 🜲 ‧₊˚ ⋅.⋅˚₊‧ 🜲 ‧₊˚ ⋅.⋅˚₊‧ 🜲 ‧₊˚ ⋅.⋅˚₊‧ 🜲 ‧₊˚ ⋅.⋅˚₊‧ 🜲 ‧₊˚ ⋅.⋅˚₊‧ 🜲 ‧₊˚ ⋅.⋅˚₊‧ 🜲 ‧₊˚ ⋅.⋅˚₊‧ 🜲 ‧

it’s pathetic to say but books seem to be the only friend you’ve been capable of making at high school. it doesn’t bother you as much as it used to, who would want to befriend lying, back-stabbing, drama-causing bitches? you simply didn’t have time to deal with that anyway. the only thing in mind is your dream school, waiting for you arms outstretched and all. you find yourself in the library yet again, past school hours, deciding to hole yourself up in the silent room until closing hours, then studying more in the comfort of your own room. exciting friday evening!

frustrated, you puff as you get stumped by another question. today simply isn’t your day and you can’t understand why not. everything seems to be going the same. unless-

your thoughts are interrupted by a familiar figure strolling over to you, sporting the usual bedhead and that infuriatingly lazy smirk. of course.

kuroo tetsurou drags the chair out from beside you and sits on it backwards, as if that was somehow charming. what, is this supposed to be sexy? "hey, princess," he drawls, looking at you through his raven-black hair, his voice slow and syrupy. you respond with nothing more than a glare and a pointed nod toward the 'silence in the library' sign above your head. "no one follows that stupid rule," he says, deadpan. you roll your eyes and pointedly shift in your seat, turning your back to him. "aw, don’t be like that," he purrs, his tone almost teasing but as lazy as ever. there's something catlike about the way kuroo moves and talks like he’s never in a rush. every word seems deliberate, almost annoyingly slow. "i just wanna have a little fun," he whispers, leaning in, his face far too close for comfort.

you can practically feel the smugness radiating off him. and of course, he’d choose now to be a distraction. an unfamiliar hand circles the flesh around your knee, the owner of that hand grins at you, chin resting in his hand. you slap it away, not tolerating any of his nonsense. “fine.” he says in surrender, arms lifting off. “i won’t get up to anything. you would sigh in relief but you know better than that. “but can i just…” the same sneaky hand back on your exposed leg, thumb gently rubbing circles on the soft skin. “keep it here. to keep you company. and mostly because i can.” this makes you loosen up.

right. your autonomy has been stripped from you.

you turn to face your books properly, deciding to delve into your material again, maybe this time you’d focus better. “good girl, see that wasn’t so hard.”

silence envelops the both of you as it’s meant to be, and it’s fine. he really isn’t bothering you, the problem is your sensitivity. you’ve realised that your fogged-up mind was due to your lack of release. a kuroo being here, his hand shifting higher and higher, every occasional grope being tighter than the last has you subconsciously squeezing your legs together. you’re hoping he won’t notice, especially as you keep switching legs to cross and avoiding squeezing your thighs together but soon it's evident on your face and how you’ve not picked up your pen after 5 whole minutes. you’re sitting staring holes into your maths book, hoping you don’t make as much of a twitch to give him the wrong signal. a signal on which he picks up.

“don’t stop because of me, really. i’m just here to watch you work is all.” you can’t even snap back at him as you’re focusing on no sounds slipping past your lips. “but,” he says carefully, leaning close. if you need to ever ‘let lose’ you know who to come to. i mean I'm not a study expert like you, but i do know… that if you’re not in the right headspace, then it’s hard to remember what you’ve learnt. i may know a few ways to help unwind. say the word and i’m yours.”

“ohh.” it’s quiet when you succumb to him, allowing this. but you can’t help it, you feel pent up and your mind isn’t thinking clearly.

“i’ll take that.”

you’re gonna hate yourself for this.

“make it quick.” you snap, readjusting your sitting angle to allow room for his hand.

“oh honey, i don’t rush my work.” he informs you, eyes locking with yours as he looks up.

great.

“what if we-”

“get caught?” he finishes, tearing his gaze away from your legs and to you. “don’t worry, i know that one of your big concerns, that won’t happen. unless you can’t keep your mouth shut.” with a slow hand, he lifts the fabric of your skirt, cold air rushing further up your legs. “you really are a soaker. look at that.” he exclaims, the only time his eyes seem to widen as he soaks in the sight of your drenched cunt, wetting your panties.

usually, you would feel a flush of embarrassment but the need the need to come is stronger. cautiously, kuroo slips his fingers down the undergarment, the gentle pads of his fingers reaching your clit. you sigh softly as with gentle rubs he soothes your stress. you place your hands around his arm, which seems to be working its magic as you’re finding it difficult to sit still in your chair. you see him wanting to tease you about your inability to stop squirming, which he bites back upon seeing your targeted stern look. you’re actively pushing down moans in the silent library, the only sound is chairs shuffling, pages rustling and pens rolling. not the sound of a girl having her pussy played with when anyone could come in and spot the two students in the act, getting them expelled.

but it’s all too thrilling. maybe for kuroo more than you. he doesn't notify you when his fingers slip from your sensitive bud and down into your throbbing cunt. you instinctively squeeze your thighs together, the sensations getting stronger and making it harder for you to control yourself. it’s almost as if kuroo is chasing the high himself, the way his fingers pump and curl so rhythmically, fingertips brushing against your g-spot every so often. “shh baby, we don’t wanna get caught now do we?” purrs in your ear, clearly enjoy how flustered he’s making you and how powerful you make him feel. you close your eyes and drop your head back, rather than focusing on not riding his fingers subtly. “don’t need to hold back on my account, you can ride em if you wanna.” kuroo’s laser-sharp focus and attentivity to subtle details like that almost freak you out. as if he’s almost watching. “come on princess ik you want it.” he says with a smile, that you can feel on your cheek. pressed against it and feeling defeated as his smug grin boasts itself in your face. you almost have half a mind to push him off and leave, but in that way, you don’t get satisfied, you don’t release, you don’t win. “there’s a good girl.” he hums as you give into your corporeal desires, and start rolling your hips towards him. you hate you admit it, but he is damn good. he knows how to work those fingers.

your hair falls in front of your face again as you lean it forward, feeling the pressure build-up within you faster than usual, your sweet release seems to be approaching much more hurriedly. £fuck I'm close I'm gonna come.” you pant out breathlessly, still aware to keep your voice down.

“i know, i know, i can tell. i’ll make you come real soon.” his lips attach to your jaw as he kisses along it. £fuck you’re tight.” he states, removing his lips from you and focusing on speeding up and working his fingers faster, thrusting harder. now the chair is squeaking against the floor and your heart is racing, from fear, excitement and pure bliss of all the sensations blurred into one. kuroo places a large hand over your mouth, covering it firmly as he feels your high approaching. it takes a few more seconds before you’re squealing muffled squeals into his palm, closing your eyes and pointing your toes. “ cumming all over my finger like that, didn’t take you for a messy girl.” his fingers are drenched in your arousal and neediness. dripping in pure out as he peels his hand away slowly. drinking in the sight of your puffed-out state, trying desperately to silently catch your breath in the library. your composure is lost as you place your hand on the edge of your chair to keep yourself upright, hair slightly sticking to your face and legs still in the air as you come down. “messy girl,” he coos. “this is no way to leave the school, don’t want your cum ruining the carpet now do we, open wide.” you follow his instructions without a second thought, your mouth opening wide on command as his fingers invade it. you suck without being told to, your tongue swirling around his digits as you look up at him with your larger doe eyes.

“there’s a good girl. hey fun idea, wanna take this to the table? i can think fo a couple ways to make you cum faster.” you deadpan at his suggestion. your face does not even crinkle in the slightest to show the least bit of amusement.

“was that supposed to be funny? that’s no funny. please leave now, you’re disrupting our silence.”

“the only thing disturbing the silence was your loud ass pussy, but whatever you say princess.” he shrugs,

⋅˚₊‧ 🜲 ‧₊˚ ⋅.⋅˚₊‧ 🜲 ‧₊˚ ⋅.⋅˚₊‧ 🜲 ‧₊˚ ⋅.⋅˚₊‧ 🜲 ‧₊˚ ⋅.⋅˚₊‧ 🜲 ‧₊˚ ⋅.⋅˚₊‧ 🜲 ‧₊˚ ⋅.⋅˚₊‧ 🜲 ‧₊˚ ⋅.⋅˚₊‧ 🜲

(please send a dm or comment on my the pinned blog to join.)

taglist: @slutkoo

𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫…

[phaelimbs]

— "So how exactly did you lose?" Irritated was the word that least describes how he currently feels, the fresh smell of mom's bento meal suddenly seemed too sour to eat, akin to his current mood.

"That subject was like, your specialty." Said a certain orange-haired boy, as if adding fuel to the fire.

Despite his irritated demeanor, even he was shocked by his own defeat at this quiz bee held just a few hours ago, in his own classroom, where he studied harder than everyone, and retained all the memory he needed to win that contest.

So how, exactly, did he lose?

A warm feeling flutters in the pit of his stomach, going all the way to his heart, to his lungs, and he suddenly remembers.

As if his consciousness was brought back to the past, exactly at the moment those eyes stared at him with utmost seriousness, and dedication to win. Holding their pen tight, ready to answer any question with a speed of a lightning.

And at first, he found it ridiculous to see the determination in you to win, even when it's guaranteed that he will have the final laugh.

But as time passed, he found himself mindblank, observing the way your eyes light up when you get a point, and how you smile— more of a smirk, really — at him as if to threaten his confidence.

It didn't, it just made his heart race.

And the last question drew close, he found himself losing more and more points to you despite his long nights of reviews and flash cards, instantly giving you the upper hand until you both met at a tie.

Final question, first to write the correct answer wins the game, he swore he could see the way you stretched to prepare. And in a flash, all he heard was yours and your friends' cheer, indicating you as the triumph.

But that wasn't the reason for his sour behavior. Instead, it lightened him up deep inside, much to his internal protest.

The bento meal was no longer sour to his taste, but warm and tasty, all while feeling excited. Looking forward to the next class? You bet he is. But he will not admit that, even when he knows he can trust his teammates and friends, and he's forced to hide that smile in devouring the last of his meal.

Because he knew he was doomed the moment he slowed down his writing and willingly lost himself to you.

- Tsukishima Kei, Kuroo Tetsuro, Akaashi Keiji, Kita Shinsuke, Bakugo Katsuki, Tenya Iida, Midoriya Izuku

[ivrxquack]

Haikyuu embarrassing moments hcs

Goshiki

Tried to impress you once in gym class but ended up face planting and his pants fell down revealing his paw patrol boxers

Atsumu

Said “deez nuts”a little to loudly and it echoed through the whole mall

Nishinoya

Sleep talked about my little pony and admitted to having a crush on rainbow dash when he was younger

Oikawa

Screamed like a little girl and jumped in your arms when a rat ran by

Ushijima

Voice cracked during a project but luckily no one laughed cause he’s the great ushijima but of course tendou teased him for it after class

Yamaguchi

Almost passed out during science class cause they were looking at a Suriname toad (don’t look it up if you’re scared of holes)

Hinata

Recorded himself dancing to a Beyoncé song and accidentally posted it on instagram causing the whole school to see it

Kita

(My precious beautiful handsome intelligent baby could never do anything embarrassing but I still added him)

Was at the pet store with his little cousins and they wanted him to hold a tarantula so ofc he did but he ended up getting bit and having a really bad allergic reaction

Suna

Was listening to the most outrageous song known to man during class and his headphones died without him noticing and everyone in class heard the song

Kageyama

Thought about scary images while washing his hair in the shower and his cat just so happened to be in the bathroom with him so it knocked something over on the sink counter and he panicked grabbing the shower curtain and ended up falling and breaking his arm

I haven’t seen any writing about haikyuu in sooooo long it’s crazy so here I am cuz I lowkey miss it!

[narumi-gens]

Traditional Values

yakuza!Kita Shinsuke x f!Reader

summary: You’ve never known a yakuza to be boring. But what else could they mean when they say that Kita Shinsuke, the head of the most powerful yakuza group in Kansai, is traditional? 

warnings: 18+, smut, yakuza au, arranged marriage, inherent sexism and misogyny, smoking, mentioned drug and alcohol use, violence (sorry to the oc in this fic lol), blood, spit, oral (f receiving & mentioned m receiving), mild exhibitionism, orgasm control, possessive!kita, hinted yandere-ish behavior, implied dom!kita, fingers crossed he's not too out of character 🤞🏽, reader is a spoiled little yakuza princess, idk if reader is all that likable but I like her and that's all that matters

notes: I feel like I'm starting to specialize in chaos characters bc while Kita is not one in this fic, the reader certainly is. but a different kind of chaos.

words: 5.9k

minors, ageless, and blank blogs do not interact

The one word you hear over and over again when people talk about Kita Shinsuke, the head of the Inarizaki, the largest and most powerful yakuza group in Kansai, is traditional. 

Despite his current position, he comes from a long line of traditional rice farmers. Once he took power over the Inarizaki, he put in place a stricter, more traditional code of conduct that all members were expected to adhere to. Instead of partying away his nights in Kobe’s clubs and brothels, he spends his evenings in a traditional house in the Hyogo countryside. 

And he has traditional family values, with traditional expectations of what he wants in a wife. 

But you know that traditional really just means boring. 

Unfortunately, a traditional and boring life seems like all you're destined for because your father, the head of Kanto's largest yakuza syndicate, the Fukurodani, has decided to seal an alliance with the Inarizaki through marriage.

Specifically, your marriage to Kita. 

After all, you're a woman and a woman can't lead the yakuza. Your only value comes from how useful you can be as a tool to build alliances and cement power. You had at least just hoped that your father would have chosen someone more exciting for you to spend the rest of your life with.

While he would never stomach seeing you at the head of the organization, he could easily have married you off to his right-hand man and hand-picked heir, the Fukurodani's young and wild wakagashira, Bokuto Koutarou. After all, nothing would ensure an eventual smooth succession better than a marriage to his only child. 

And even if he decided you were more useful as a means of building his power rather than ensuring his legacy, there were still other options. 

There were plenty of crazy yakuza out there who would have kept your interest piqued if only your father had chosen to further consolidate his power in Tokyo or to look for an alliance up north rather than out west. 

But your father has made his choice and Kita has agreed and you have no say in the matter. It's not long before the young yakuza kumicho, along with his most trusted men in the Inarizaki, arrives in Tokyo to negotiate the finer details in person. 

And when you finally meet him at dinner with your parents, you can't say that you're impressed. 

He's polite. He's soft-spoken. He's respectful. He's so. utterly. boring.

As you sit next to him in a private room at one of Tokyo's finest restaurants, listening to him as he genially answers your mother's questions about his own upbringing and tells her about his close relationship with his grandmother, all you can think is, 'what a waste.'

Regardless of how handsome he is and how much his men seem to respect him and how powerful his position is, he's missing that wildness inherent to every true yakuza. 

By the time the plates are cleared and the manager of the restaurant is falling over himself to thank your father for his patronage, you’ve made your assessment of your new fiancé.

Kita is dull. 

It’s all you can think as he cordially thanks your father at the end of the evening. 

‘You’re so boring.’

It’s all you can think as he humbly accepts your mother’s compliments and adoration.

‘You’re so boring.’

It’s all you can think as he politely bids you goodnight with a bow, telling you softly how nice it was to meet you.

‘You’re so boring.’

You have to bite back the urge to say the words aloud, directly to his face, just to see what he would do. Would he drop his courteous smile? Would he clench his fists? Would he slap you?

‘You’re so boring.’

He would probably just look slightly taken aback before doing his best to laugh off any offense. 

“It was nice to meet you too, Kita-san,” you finally reply, your tone suggesting anything but. You feel the disapproval rolling off of your parents in waves and can already hear the lecture that awaits you once you’re alone with them. 

Your father will chastise you for the disrespect that you’ve shown to a new ally, and by extension him. He’ll sternly remind you that this is your duty as his daughter. If he’s really feeling irritable then he’ll light up a cigarette and grumble about how he’s spoiled you for too long and hopes that Kita has a firm hand.

Your mother, however, will almost certainly turn so shrill in her anger that you’ll want to cover your ears. She’ll berate you for insulting your husband-to-be. She’ll scold you for your clear disinterest and boredom through every course of dinner. She’ll then blame your father for being too lenient with you over the years, to which your father will respond by simply taking a long drag of his cigarette.

But in the present, Kita simply gives you a polite smile in return and the chorus continues in your head.

‘You’re so boring.’

Just because you’re now technically engaged doesn’t mean that you need to change how you live your life. If anything, you need to savor all the fun you can before you’re shipped off to Hyogo to spend the rest of your days popping out kids and taking care of some big, empty, country house with a man who’s less interesting than the rice his family grows. 

It’s not even an hour after you get home from dinner before you’re leaving once again. Only this time, you’re wearing something far more revealing and decisively less conservative than the formal kimono that your mother forced you into for your meeting with Kita — something meant to appeal to his traditional taste. 

Your current outfit is one that’s perfectly suited to the high-end clubs of Roppongi. Not that it really matters considering you’re tucked away in a private VIP room, away from the large crowds and deafening music and prying eyes. 

Normally, you would be surrounded by a group of your friends. But after being confronted with the man that you’ve been sentenced to marry and seeing the unending boredom in your near future, you've recognized that it also applies to your sex life. 

You’ve only spent a couple of hours with Kita, but it was more than enough to know that he probably prefers fucking in missionary with the lights off. The only orgasms that you can expect as a married woman will probably come from your vibrator — unless he decides that a vibrator isn’t traditional enough, in which case you’ll have to rely on your fingers exclusively. 

So, instead of the VIP room being filled with your friends, it’s just you and the man whose face is buried between your thighs, Ito Tatsuya. While your feelings towards Tatsuya tend to lie closer to ambivalence than anything else, his skilled tongue is more than enough to make up for it. 

With the way his lips are wrapped around your clit, it’s easy to ignore how he acts tougher than he truly is. He talks a big game but has refrained from acting on all of his talk and joining a yakuza group. Ultimately it works in your favor as no yakuza would dare lay a finger on the beloved daughter of the Fukurodani’s feared kumicho, knowing that doing so would bring the wrath of the entire criminal organization down on their heads. 

Tatsuya is the closest that you’ll get as he’s only tangentially affiliated with one of the few other powerful yakuza groups in Tokyo, the Nekoma organization. Although their power will never come close to the strength of the Fukurodani, your father has a good relationship with their kumicho, Nekomata Yasufumi. The two yakuza groups have had a strong alliance for decades. 

Likewise, Bokuto has his own sense of camaraderie and friendship with Nekomata’s wakagashira, Kuroo Tetsuro, whom you’ve had the pleasure of meeting on multiple occasions as you run in the same circles. Unfortunately, it’s never turned into anything more, despite your best efforts. 

Kuroo Tetsuro. That’s a man. That’s a real yakuza. 

If your luck was better and if relations with the Nekoma group were worse, you probably would have been married off to him rather than the snoozefest that you’ve ended up with. 

It’s easy to slip into the fantasy that it’s Kuroo whose grip feels scorching on your thigh, whose fingers are pumping in and out of your dripping cunt, whose tongue is lapping at your needy clit. The image in your head pushes you closer to the edge as your hips buck in time with his fingers. 

But just as you can see your orgasm within reach, your attention is yanked away from your pleasure when the door to the VIP room opens with a BANG! as it’s kicked in. You protest with a whine as Tatsuya lifts his head from between your thighs, pure murder written across his face at having been disturbed. 

Unaffected by the interruption, you use your grip on his hair to try and tug him back to his original task, but it’s of no use. He’s already removing his arm from around your thigh to reach back and pull out the gun that’s been tucked in the waistband of his pants. 

You're momentarily impressed that he would flaunt the country’s severe firearm restrictions. Although the effect is lost a few moments later when he sits up only to freeze, his features going slack.

When you finally turn your head to see who’s behind the disruption, you frown unhappily.

“Kita-san,” you greet with an irritated sigh. And even you know that you’ll never get Tatsuya’s mouth back on your pussy at this point and you release your hold on his hair with a resigned huff. 

Tatsuya scrambles to remove himself entirely from between your legs, carelessly dropping his gun onto the low table before the couch that you’re sprawled out across. He lifts his hands to show that they’re now empty and he’s not a threat, as if anyone would ever believe he was one.

You wonder if his panic stems from knowing exactly who it is that’s found you both in such a compromising position or if it’s solely due to how intimidating Kita and the two men on either side of him look. 

For as boring as he is, you’ll give him credit. The sight of him standing in the doorway, the black jacket of the same suit he wore to dinner draped across broad shoulders, his arms crossed casually over his chest, his expression giving nothing away, is impressive. Even if he didn’t have two of his underlings with him — one with grey hair and one with dark hair, both of them wearing similar looks of apathy — it would be more than enough to put the average person on edge.

However, you’ve spent your whole life surrounded by dangerous men, with dangerous men at your beck and call. 

So, as Tatsuya begins to babble, making excuses and insisting that he doesn’t want any trouble, you simply roll your eyes and push down your skirt just enough so that your pussy is no longer on display. But even in the low light of the VIP room, the insides of your thighs — and how they shine with the evidence of your rapidly-cooling arousal — are clearly visible. 

“Suna,” Kita says, his gaze fixed on you. The dark-haired man needs no further instruction before he’s moving past his oyabun towards Tatsuya. 

He easily grabs the cowering man from the couch by the front of his shirt and roughly shoves him to his knees on the floor, keeping him in place with one hand fisted tightly in his hair, just as yours had been only a few minutes earlier. 

Kita slips his jacket from his shoulders and in doing so, you catch a glimpse of the blood-red lining on the inside. He passes it to the man still at his side, who carefully folds it over his arm in a way that won’t leave any creases. He then methodically begins to unbutton and roll up the sleeves of his crisp white shirt, exposing his forearms and the large swaths of tattooed skin that extend almost to his wrists.

Part of you is surprised. Kita seems too dull to have even the smallest tattoo, let alone full tattooed sleeves. But another part of you knows how much significance tattoos have historically held to the yakuza and he’s nothing if not traditional. Your thighs unconsciously squeeze together as you imagine how far they spread over the rest of his body. 

The action doesn’t seem to escape his notice because he raises an eyebrow at you but makes no further comment before he turns to Tatsuya, who continues to plead for mercy. 

“Enough.” 

Kita doesn’t raise his voice. He doesn’t put any force behind the single word. Other than ensuring his sleeves are snugly held in place just below his elbows, he doesn’t even move. But there’s a danger to him that Tatsuya is quick to pick up on and his blubbering comes to an immediate halt. 

He fearfully waits for the silver-haired yakuza to go on and when he does, it’s probably not in the way he was expecting. Because rather than explaining who he is or why he’s there — which Tatsuya has probably figured out on his own by this point — Kita places a hand on the back of the kneeling man’s head. The other man, Suna, releases Tatsuya altogether, wordlessly deferring to his oyabun and taking a step back to give his boss space. 

The tension in the room is thick as Kita looks down at the trembling man on his knees, his face still as blank as it’s been since his sudden arrival. It snaps in an instant when he sharply yanks Tatsuya’s head down and his nose meets Kita’s raised knee with a sickening crunch! that would leave a less seasoned group of onlookers feeling queasy. 

As it stands, both Suna and the other Inarizaki man appear to be amused, entertained even. You get the sense that displays of this nature from the yakuza boss aren’t common. 

But as you see the blood pouring from Tatsuya’s nose and hear his howling and watch as your fiancé’s fist repeatedly makes contact with the man’s face, you feel none of that same amusement. You also don’t feel afraid or disgusted or concerned.

You’ve long grown desensitized to the violence associated with the yakuza. If anything, you can feel the boredom setting in once again. 

You reach out to the table in front of you for the ashtray where your cigarette rests, having set it down when Tatsuya buried his face in your pussy. However, as soon as you pick it up, a long column of ash falls from the end and you realize with a pout that it’s already burned down to the filter. 

The little noise of irritation you let out can’t be heard over Tatsuya’s pained cries or the brutal sound of fist meeting flesh again and again. You pull a new cigarette from the open pack on the table and perch it between your lips before grabbing your cheap lighter. 

Once it’s lit, you take a deep, contented inhale of smoke before exhaling a large cloud that sits atop the room before dispersing. You glance back to Kita and Tatsuya to find that the scene looks exactly the same as when you looked away — except for Tatsuya’s face is completely bloodied and already swelling, and he seems on the verge of passing out. 

“Really, Kita-san?” you finally ask with a yawn as you roll onto your side, your head pillowed by your bicep. 

He pauses, his fist raised mid-air, and looks over at you, his eyes roving over your lackadaisical sprawl across the couch. He wordlessly releases the front of Tatsuya’s shirt from his grasp, who then drops to the floor in a bloody mess. 

Suna immediately steps in to harshly kick the man over onto his stomach and places a heavy, threatening foot right on his spine. Not that it matters considering Tatsuya seems to be in and out of consciousness by this point. 

But your attention isn’t on Tatsuya; it’s on Kita as he approaches you, his pace unhurried. You’re slightly impressed that he’s barely out of breath from the beating he just delivered. He picks up the discarded gun from the table and in one smooth motion, pulls back the slide to look at the chamber before releasing the magazine to check it as well. 

“It’s empty,” he notes before tossing it to the man holding his jacket, who easily catches it and claims it for his own. A loud bubble of laughter escapes you at Tatsuya’s expense, finding it hilarious that the only marginally cool thing that you’ve ever seen him do was all for show. 

You slip your cigarette to rest between your smiling lips as your gaze flits between the other Inarizaki men and find that they too appear to think it’s funny. Suna even presses his foot harder into Tatsuya’s back with a smirk that only grows wider when he receives a groan in response. 

However, the yakuza boss doesn’t seem to share the humor that you and his men are feeling. He grabs the edge of the table and lifts it up just enough to tilt it and send everything on top of it to the floor with a dull crash. You frown at the waste of a barely touched bottle of champagne, a top-shelf bottle of whiskey, and Tatsuya’s small, unopened bag of cocaine.

Kita pays none of the mess any mind as he takes a seat on the edge of the table’s now cleared surface, directly in front of you. With you still laid out on the couch, you’re eye level with his knees. 

You look up at him and raise a challenging eyebrow, daring him to make his next move, daring him to keep you interested. You’re sorely disappointed when the first thing that he does is tug down your skirt to protect your modesty, something you find truly pointless considering the three men walked in on you in the middle of having your pussy eaten. 

The sensation of the backs of his fingers running along the skin of your thigh as he pulls on the fabric sends a small shiver down your spine and reminds you that you were interrupted before you could cum. You shift your leg to expose your inner thigh to him in a tempting invitation for him to finish what Tatsuya started, but he simply ignores your provocation and gives your skirt one final tug to ensure it’s in place. 

With a displeased roll of your eyes, you take another deep drag of your cigarette. But before you’ve finished, Kita plucks it from your lips and holds it aloft. He ignores your cry of protest as he waits half a moment for Suna to take it from him. You sit up in an effort to try and grab it back, but Kita’s fingers suddenly grip your chin hard enough that you think you’ll still feel them tomorrow.

He’s grasping you with the same hand that he used to pummel Tatsuya and you can feel how his fingers are warm and sticky with the man’s blood. It only takes a quick glance down to see that his knuckles are drenched in it.

With his hold keeping you in place, you’re unable to see what Suna does with your cigarette. However, you soon hear Tatsuya let out a low moan of pain and you have an idea. 

“That’s a filthy habit,” he says. His tone is rather benign but you’re certain that you’re being scolded. “I won’t have ya keepin’ it up as my wife.”

You let out an unattractive snort and hope your expression conveys just how unimpressed you are.

“They’re my lungs. If I wanna turn them black, that’s my right.” If he didn’t have your chin held so firmly, you would probably have stuck out your tongue and pulled down on your lower eyelid to taunt him.

“Yer rights extend only to the ones that I allow ya to have,” he comments and from any other man, there would be a threatening weight to his words. Kita, however, speaks them so casually that it sounds like he’s making nothing more than an absent observation of an indisputable fact.

You can only pout in return and he releases his grip to give your cheek a gentle, condescending pat. He then lifts his unbloodied hand out at his side with his palm facing up.

“Osamu.” 

The Inarizaki man with the grey hair is quick to come forward, his hand slipping inside the jacket that he’s still carrying to pull out something from the inner pocket and place it into Kita’s patiently waiting palm. He then returns to his previous spot near the door, ensuring that there’s a respectful distance between himself and Kita and you once more. 

The small, carefully polished wooden box that he’s been given piques your interest. When he opens the lid, your eyes widen at the ring sitting inside of it. It’s elegant and beautiful — a traditional round diamond set atop a thin, pavé diamond band. It manages to avoid being ostentatious while still leaving no doubt about its expensive price tag, and therefore the status of the man who gave it to you. 

For such a boring man, he apparently has good taste. 

Your left hand moves on its own as you lift it for him expectantly. There’s the briefest flash of amusement in his eyes — the first real emotion that you’ve seen from him. But he wordlessly takes the ring from the box and slips it onto your third finger. 

The first instinct you have as soon as you feel the cool metal on your skin is to bring it to your face so that you can examine your new engagement ring more closely. But he grabs your hand so suddenly to keep it in place that it startles you. 

You raise your gaze to see that his own is glued to the ring that you’re now wearing. His thumb gently sweeps across the band and the gesture is a sharp contrast to how tightly his fingers are clasped around yours.

“See this?” He nods towards the ring, as if there were anything else that he could be referring to. “It’s not just a beautiful ring on yer pretty finger. It's a symbol of our commitment — yer commitment to me.” 

It’s slight, barely even noticeable, but there’s an edge to his tone that’s been missing all night. You can suddenly imagine how it is this young, unassuming man with his calm and collected temperament worked his way to the top of the most powerful yakuza syndicate in Japan.

He takes a long moment to pause thoughtfully and it seems so natural that you wonder if this is a common occurrence when he speaks. You suppose you’ll have the rest of your life to figure it out.

“I have a lot of respect for yer father,” he breaks the silence, confusing you with the direction that he’s chosen to take your conversation. “He’s built one of the most sophisticated operations in the country. He’s a smart man who’s surrounded himself with people he can trust, who would take a bullet or a prison sentence for him without question. I won’t hesitate to say that he’s earned his reputation.”

He sounds sincere, but you still have no idea where he’s going with this. If this were anyone else, in any other situation, you would ask if he was more interested in marrying your father than interested in marrying you. You have enough self-awareness to know that doing so with Kita wouldn’t go well — but only just.

“He’s a man of honor and I don’t mean to insult him.” He pauses again, this one shorter than the previous one. However, something about it feels heavier and when he finally looks back up at you, his eyes are much colder.

“The Fukurodani may be the most powerful syndicate in Kanto, but when it comes down to it, no one can match the power and numbers of the Inarizaki,” he states. 

Maybe it’s the matter-of-fact way he says it, maybe it’s how composed his expression is despite the events of that evening, but you’re suddenly incredibly aware of how his grip on your fingers has slowly tightened over the last few minutes, almost bordering on painful.

“I already own everythin’ from Kansai to Kyushu. If I wanted Tokyo, I could come and take it.” You believe him. While your father won’t let you in on his operations, you’re far from clueless about the politics of the criminal underworld, including who has power and how much. 

And Kita is right. The Fukurodani are the most powerful group in Kanto, one of the most powerful groups in all of Japan — second only to the Inarizaki. If a war broke out between the two over control of the country’s capital, it would be a hard and bloody conflict but the Inarizaki would undoubtedly be the victors. 

This marriage benefits your father more than it does Kita. 

“Maybe one day I will. The alliance doesn’t really matter,” he tells you. But while he looks slightly pensive as he speaks, the corners of your lips begin to slowly turn upwards. 

“Then what is it you want, Kiiiiitaaa-saaaan?” you ask, playfully stretching out his family name — what will soon be your family name. 

The coldness in his demeanor seems to melt, although not into anything that could ever be considered close to warm. If you had to describe it, you would probably call it patronizing.

“Y’know they call ya Tokyo’s yakuza princess?” he replies and your smirk widens. It takes some effort with how tight his grip is, but you manage to wiggle your fingers just loose enough to intertwine them with his.

“Do they?” you ask innocently, as if you haven’t proudly worn the title over the years. You look at him knowingly through your lashes. “Even in the Hyogo countryside?”

“Even in the Hyogo countryside,” he answers mildly, briefly humoring you and you reward him with a pleased grin. 

“Oh really?” you muse, bringing your joined hands up to your lips to lightly skim them along his bloody and torn knuckles. 

His tolerance seems to have hit its limit because he quickly yanks his hand from yours to grab your jaw, his fingers digging into your cheeks so roughly that you give a small wince. His hand is large enough that it covers your mouth almost entirely. 

If anyone else were in your position, they would most likely be trembling in fear. You can only smile into his palm, the mischief mirrored in your eyes.

Kita doesn’t come across as a man who often — if ever — gives into temptation. But although his patience with you has grown thin, he seems willing to allow himself just one small indulgence.

His hand shifts so that he can slowly run his thumb across your lips, leaving behind a sticky smear of blood in its wake. As his touch reaches your cupid’s bow, you slightly part your lips to press a soft kiss to the pad of his thumb before opening your mouth and catching it between your teeth.

You use just enough pressure so that he can’t simply slip it free. The metallic tang of blood is strong on your tongue as you brush it teasingly against the tip, your gaze meeting his coyly. You close your lips around his thumb and give it a light suck that would have a lesser man on his knees, begging for you to let him between your thighs. 

Kita reacts with a thoughtful hum and nothing else, not even the most minute muscle twitch.

“Tokyo’s spoiled little yakuza princess whose father lets her get away with whatever she wants,” he remarks, entirely unbothered even as you continue to suckle on his thumb while he speaks. “I won’t be anywhere near as lenient with ya. And I won’t have ya makin’ a fool outta me just because we’re not married yet.”

Although the danger is there, completely unmistakable, his voice lacks the menacing tone that should accompany his words. Instead, they’re low and soft, caressing your ears like a lover’s would, luring you in seductively. 

Impulse control has never been something that you’ve practiced; it’s never been something that you’ve needed to practice. In an act of utter shamelessness, you take his free hand, the one casually hanging from his knee, and place it high on your bare thigh. 

When you try to slide it further under the hem of your skirt, which has already begun to ride up since he tugged it down, you find that his hand is immovable. His fingers dig into the fat of your thigh, sinking into your soft skin with the weight of both his grip and his possessiveness. 

“Yer mine now,” he tells you, his voice still gentle and entirely at odds with his burning touch and the taste of blood in your mouth. “I don’t need to wait for paperwork or a ceremony to make it official.”

His heavy gaze drops down to look pointedly at how you’re thighs are squeezing together, even as he keeps one of them firmly in place. He then slowly drags it back up to meet yours, leaving a scorching trail in its wake. 

“I’m not just gonna give ya whatever it is ya ask for.” The words are a threat, even if he speaks them like a promise. “If ya want somethin’ from me, yer gonna have to earn it.”

Right now, there’s only one thing that you want from him and it's at the forefront of your mind.

“But I didn’t get to cum,” you whine around his thumb, your pitiful complaint slightly muffled. 

Osamu and Suna’s matching looks of disbelief go unnoticed by you and Kita, neither man ever having imagined that someone would dare to say something so brazen to their fearsome oyabun. 

There’s a flash in Kita’s eyes and the corner of his mouth twitches upwards for a fraction of a second. Both happen so quickly that you only notice because he has your rapt attention and it slowly dawns on you. 

He likes it. He likes your audacity. He likes your impertinence. He likes how you sound like the spoiled brat that you are. He likes that he has Tokyo’s spoiled little yakuza princess squeezing his hand between her thighs and sucking on his thumb as she pathetically pleads with him to make her cum. 

His thumb is slick with your saliva as he slips it from your mouth despite your efforts to keep it where it is by trying to sink your teeth deeper into it. He leaves a quickly-cooling trail of spit on your skin as he readjusts his hold on your jaw, once again digging his fingers into the hollows of your cheeks. The action only exaggerates the pout that you’re already giving him. 

“And ya won’t again ‘til we’re married. I don’t care if it’s with someone else. I don’t care if it’s with yerself. The next time ya do will be on our wedding night.” He pauses, letting the silence hang over the room so that the impact of his next words is truly felt. “If yer good.”

You let out a displeased noise in protest but it goes ignored as he uses his grasp on your jaw to move your head a bit to the side so that you’re looking over his shoulder and directly at the grey-haired Inarizaki man behind him.

“This is Osamu. He’s gonna be stayin’ in Tokyo for a bit.” He gives you a single wave in acknowledgment from where he stands. “Yer father’s already agreed to it.”

The implication is clear: Osamu is to be Kita’s eyes and ears in Tokyo. If you act in any way that’s unbefitting of your new status as the woman set to marry the Inarizaki’s kumicho, he’ll certainly know. 

“You’ll be seein’ a lot of him,” he tells you as he returns your focus back to him. He then leans forward, closing the gap between you to tenderly press a light kiss to your forehead, his lips moving against your skin with his next words. “So, be good for me.”

He sits back and meets your gaze expectantly and it’s clear that he wants your assurance that you’ll do as told. You give a childish roll of your eyes and his grip tightens in warning.

“I’ll be good,” you reply, the words feeling foreign on your tongue but they seem to appease him. 

However, his eyes soon land on your lips and then narrow. It’s a small movement, but the temperature of the room seems to drop with it. His next question is spoken as softly as everything else he’s said that night, but there’s a new kind of gravity to it, one that promises danger should he receive an answer that he doesn’t like. 

“Did ya use yer mouth on him?” 

It’s clear that Tatsuya’s life depends on your response. Luckily for him, there’s only one answer that you can give. 

“I don’t suck cock,” you say and it’s only because Kita is grasping so tightly onto your jaw that you don’t physically turn your nose up at the suggestion of you getting on your knees. 

But then something unexpected happens. The calm and carefully controlled expression on Kita’s face softens into something finally approaching fondness, a faint smile forming on the straight line of his lips. 

“You will for me,” he promises and you raise a challenging eyebrow, even as your own grin begins to grow.  

“I will?” you ask playfully and he nods.

“You will if ya wanna be good,” he’s kind enough to remind you and there’s a strange fluttering in your stomach that you’ve never experienced before. 

“Yes, Shin-kun,” you smile, and despite barely having had any of the champagne that’s now spilled across the floor, you feel drunk.  

You hardly wait for Kita to order his men to leave with a firm but impassive, “out,” before sliding from the couch and sinking to the floor between his parted legs. Your knees already ache from the unfamiliar sensation of resting against such a hard surface. 

The weight of his hand on the back of your neck burns as you rub your cheek against the expensive fabric of the slacks covering his muscled thigh. As you reach for the buckle of his belt, you look up at him to find him watching you ravenously. 

It absently occurs to you that throughout the entire evening, you never once heard him raise his voice. Even when he was brutally assaulting Tatsuya, he never seemed angry or bothered. No matter the situation, he remained unfazed.

But as you slide a hand inside of his pants to grip his half-hard cock through the soft material of his boxers, you can see it. Underneath his composed visage and mild temperament, burning bright in his shining and hungry eyes, is a dangerous flame — one that threatens to consume you and every inch of Tokyo in a devastating and all-consuming blaze. 

Maybe Kita Shinsuke isn’t as boring as you thought.

[hiraethwa]

— exile

we always walked a very thin line you didn't even hear me out (you didn't even hear me out) you never gave a warning sign (i gave so many signs)

"i can't do this anymore"

you had thought about it for months, tried to turn back before it was too late, but his logical reasoning had stayed your course, brushed your tears and fears away, wiping them where they couldn't be seen.

out of sight, out of mind.

except the carpet is now uneven, giving away the things that were wrong, the needs that were brushed under it, soothed and promised, only to be forgotten.

it had been on your mind for so long, you thought you could do it levelheadedly, see yourself out without throwing your emotions into the mix.

but you always lied to yourself, didn't you? just like how you told yourself all that he could give you was enough, that it was proof of his love, a relationship that persevered through hardships and distance.

you convinced yourself that you could survive on the scraps, when you needed more. because it was selfish. he gave you plenty, just never enough for you.

"what?" the confusion on his face is apparent, as if there were never any warning signs of this coming.

"we're both tired, so let's stop here." the tears are flooding your vision, brimming on the edge of your waterline, pushing and tumbling over, hot and streaming down your cheeks.

there was nothing you could do stop them, just as there was nothing you could do to save this.

"gods, i am so tired." hysterical laughter bubbles out of you, and you wish that your love would do the same. it would have been so much easier if you didn't love each other so damn much.

"what's wrong? we can fix this." his voice is pleading, helpless, just like your own, except each time you brought it up, nothing changes. nothing ever does.

"there is nothing to fix. we have always loved differently, but love is not enough, is it?" something feels irrevocably broken within you.

you have always known that your price is high and you have suffered enough heartbreaks to last a lifetime. it is tragic, but you have never come so close before, within reach of everything you have ever dreamt of, everything you have ever wanted.

except it wasn't enough to feel loved, when you don't feel wanted.

all this time i never learned to read your mind (never learned to read my mind) i couldn't turn things around (you never turned things around)

sakusa kiyoomi, tsukishima kei, kageyama tobio, KITA SHINSUKE, iwaizumi hajime, ushijima wakatoshi, akaashi keiji

[makkir0ll]

"hmm, is it green apple?"

you giggle in his arms, shaking your head no and smile as he leans down to press another kiss on your lips.

the past fifteen minutes had been spent trapped under his arms while he kisses your plump, flavourful, lips. it started out when you put on some chapstick and he asks for some. you knew that this was his way of getting a kiss, but when his lips press against yours the flavor is different than your normal vanilla, its fruitier. "what flavor is that?" he asks, pulling you closer to him to plant another kiss on your lips, "berry?"

"no" you say smiling as you await his actions. hoping that he does exactly what you expect him too.

and he falls into your trap. the next fifteen minutes are spent with his lips on yours as he guesses what flavor it could be. strawberry? mango? pineapple?

all no.

at this point all he could taste was his own spit on your lips. completely kissed away all the chapstick that coated your lips. he breaks the last kiss with a whine.

"y/n put some more on, i can't taste it anymore." he loosens his grip on your body as you shift underneath him to find the chapstick in your pocket.

"close your eyes, i dont want you to see the label." you tell him and he obliges, squeezing his eyes shut in a childish manner as you apply the chapstick on your lips.

once you're done you toss the tube away, wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him down, he's smiling. his lips press against yours yet again but this time it's different. the kiss is deeper, he cups your face and his toungue swipes on your lips and you open your mouth slightly to let the wet muscle enter. it takes your breath away and you start to feel dizzy from his touch and all the sensations happening around you. he pulls away, a thin string of saliva connected the two of you. your eyes are still closed, processing what happened when you hear him say,

"it's berry isnt it?"

you nod your head no, hoping he will kiss you like that again, and he does. but little do you know that he caught a glimpse of the berry graphic on the label when you pulled out the chapstick from your pocket.

HINATA SHOYO. (probably doesn't notice the label though tbh). BOKUTO, hanamaki, oikawa fucking tooru, sugawara (he knew from the start it was berry but goes along with the act to amuse you), akaashi (same as sugawara). NISHINOYA. (same as shoyo, genuinely continues to guess), ATSUMU. KITA FUCKING SHINSUKE (he knew from the first kiss, but realized that this made you happy). KUROO. SUNAAAAA.

[flyingwargle]

october fanfic recs!

i don't have too many this month, so check out the previous months' recs: july, august, september

some of these fics are rated e!

sakuatsu

Dawn and Other Acts of Love t. 4.6k. sakusa's worst nightmare has come true: he has to stay the weekend at atsumu's. such a funny premise spun into a fluffy piece with light hurt and so much comfort. loved it!

shoot to kill g. 6.2k. this obliterated me and continues to haunt me. atsumu knows not to cross the line when it comes to insults and arguments, but sakusa does not, and says something that he shouldn't have. very powerful, with a tender conclusion at the end. one of the best fics i read this year <3

Summer Special: Omigiri t. 6.9k. osamu asks sakusa to be his model for his upcoming summer umeboshi onigiri special, but it turns out to be a ploy for him to confess to atsumu. absolutely hilarious.

The Taste of 2 a.m. t. 8.2k. atsumu is an insomniac with a need to drink tea at 2 am and sakusa joins him. they eventually fall in love with the routine and each other.

Curse Breaking for Dummies: A Setter's Guide to Getting the Guy g. 10.2k. 2/2. modern magic twist where atsumu is cursed with a love curse and everyone falls in love with him except sakusa. you can tell where this will go. very fun and lighthearted!

love as told by you t. 11.1k. this fic is the sun that beams onto you at the end of a rainstorm, reassuring you that love exists, and you'll find love, or a platonic soulmate. it's so warm and tender, choke full of affectionate details of a blooming sakuatsu relationship. a comfort fic, for sure.

recipe for disaster e. 22.9k. fwb narrative where atsumu falls in love with sakusa, featuring anxiety, supportive brothers, and sakusa who also loves him back. the sunaosa side of things is also *chef's kiss* and recommended below ehe

sunaosa

turn west towards dawn e. 2.7k. prose intertwined with letters about osamu getting an email from suna while studying in italy to reconnect after their break-up. the writing is both light but heavy with their lingering emotions and regret that makes your heart throb.

resistance to flow t. 6.2k. fwb to lovers agenda. i will never tire of the slippery slope of falling in love, especially if it's written beautifully.

A Primer for the Small Weird Orchestra Loves t. 8.2k. au where the boys are in an orchestra and suna helps osamu with the violin. lovely details and slow burn, with also a sakuatsu sequel.

of great ambition m. 17.8k. more of a suna-centric character study with a splash of sunaosa that focuses on suna's journey to become a pro. suna is so vulnerable in this, and he deserves all the glory for himself. it's also very in line with how i interpret his character <3

secret menu e. 26.3k. the sunaosa side of recipe for disaster. suna takes a part-time job working at onigiri miya during the off-season and gets more than he bargained for. also fwb narrative but augh. augh. the writing for both fics is so good and tailored to each character's perspective. i love both of them.

bokuaka

an ode to a conversation stuck in your throat e. 3.1k. a character study of bokuto who has bpd with spice. achingly soft and full of love.

crossing distance g. 4k. bokuto went abroad to study after high school and akaashi is the first one that he contacts. i just love how they were able to fall into each other again despite the distance and falling out of communication, it's truly a magical thing <3

A Kind of Magic t. 6.7k. bokuto and akaashi often hang out at bokuto's house until akaashi invites him over and introduces him to his incredibly large and wild family. beautiful, beautiful prose and gradual realization of feelings. we stan family members as their cheerleaders.

heavy heart, a love apart e. 7k. exes to lovers. this oozed with angst and heavy hearts with tension that is eventually resolved for a hopeful ending. loved the atmosphere created by the prose.

iwaoi

yes-man t. 4.1k. no matter what oikawa asks of iwa, he always says yes, including a spontaneous weekend trip to las vegas. very cute and fluffy!

Pretty Boy t. 8k. oikawa is used to iwa's range of nicknames for him, but when iwa starts calling him pretty boy, well. that changes things. fluffy, cute, and lighthearted!

shoelaces and departures t. 10.1k. 2/2. magical realism au where iwa runs a cafe and oikawa is compelled to travel to different corners of the world because of his innate wanderlust. mutual pining at its finest with fluff.

rise e. 12.4k. oikawa and iwa live together after high school but don't have a label on their relationship. something else that this fic focuses is on the push-pull aspect they have, especially with oikawa's knee injury. the hurt/comfort hit me where it hurt.

When I Fall to My Feet e. 23.2k. 3/3. trans oikawa is looking for someone to overwrite his terrible first time, and eventually iwa offers to do it. fwb to lovers, with a sprinkle of makki and mattsun friendship, and a wonderfully supportive iwa.

other

The MSBY Black Jackals Guide To Self-Care t. 4.5k. sakusa-centric. a cute little fic of sakusa learning about his teammates' various self-care routines.

Off the Hinges t. 15.9k. arankita, sakuatsu. kita adopts sakusa since he's a kouhai in the same business program as him while watching him develop his relationship with atsumu. kita also takes a page from his own book with his relationship with aran. cute and endearing. my first arankita fic and i hope it won't be my last.

i remember how the earth stopped turning t. 73.3k. 6/6. kageyama-centric. man. man. it's an amazing read that focuses on the immediate post-career ending injury and intertwines povs from other characters. gorgeous prose. give it a read, seriously.

Yamaguchi Tadashi is NOT a ghost hunter m. 77.9k. 23/23. tsukkiyama. the house that tskushima, kuroo, and bokuto rent in osaka is haunted, and hinata recommends yamaguchi, a spirit medium, to help them. the slow burn!! the mystery!! the details!! i very much enjoyed this <3