#daichi violent storm

[cityandking]

darkness, dew, ophelia for lira, dai and vesper?

thanks dear! // ask my oc stuff

Darkness: Any fears/phobias

LIRA — well she definitely has some lingering anxieties about losing everyone close to her in brutal violent bloody ways. but y'know, nothing specific DAICHI — I think post-abyss he'd have a sort of panicked reaction to having something stuck over his face. too much like being encased in living metal. and he fears letting down everyone he loves and/or has to protect, but that's kind of general background radiation in his life VESPER — fears tranquility and also losing control. these things are separate fears, but definitely linked. also: spiders

Dew: What’s something someone could do for them to make them instantly relax?

LIRA — sit her down with Alfie to decompress. tbh it's less about actions and more that there are a few people whose presence will immediately help her relax (chiefly zevran; morrigan and alistair too, so long as they aren't asking her to do anything and nothing is on fire) DAICHI — I'm not sure there's anything out there that would make dai instantly relax, but telling the truth tends to go a long way. he could also really really use a massage. rip the spa arc. (petting orum helps too) VESPER — if someone were to draw her a nice big hot bath with salts and oils and leave her to her own devices with a glass of wine and a few lit candles it would literally take years off her shoulders (cullen does this)

Ophelia: Who are the different pairings they have/brief synopsis of those relationships

you are so good to me 💕 under the cut because it got long (rip)

LIRA —

lira/alistair — they're the canon-est. they have an undeniable attraction in their youth during the blight, but lira's too caught up in her own grief and misery to let him in, and then she goes out of her way to make him unavailable to her (and herself unavailable to him) and they go their separate ways as king and warden until she goes off to cure the calling for him and they fall in love (again) long-distance over a year's worth of letters. romance at its finest lira/zevran — there's a universe out there where zevran's incessant flirting with death lira genuinely gets under her armor (literally and metaphorically) and somewhere between their shared grief and confusion and the tender sprouts of hope they find a happier ending lira/zevran/alistair — all of the above except when zevran wears her down, she sets her pride aside for .2 seconds, and they fall into the strangest puppy pile romance. I love them. lira/morrigan — genuinely I just think if they could make out and then have a surrogate kid together it would fix 80% of everything wrong with lira. (could even be lira/morrigan/alistair let's get a throuple parenting situation out here. warden!lira + warden!alistair + morrigan + kieran is kind of a perfect happy ever after for them)

DAICHI —

dai/zaref — canon coworkers to lovers! dai respected zaref from the beginning, but after their first trip into the void and the discovery that zaref was actually a void tiefling and had been lying/in hiding for the past couple years, that trust/respect kind of collapsed. in its place they made an active effort to be honest and supportive and watch out for each other (and the party). when daichi promised to bring the void to an unsuspecting world to get zaref back (it's a long story) and then returned three months of zaref's lost memories colored by dai's own admiration and respect and love, it was kind of inevitable. is it healthy? probably not, but get you a boyfriend who will stay in the abyss and/or die for you

VESPER —

vesper/cullen — canon! they have a slow burn romance built on endless war councils and late nights and exhaustion and quiet humor and trust and friendship and meeting the other where they were, and they were in love before they realized it had started. a real port-in-a-storm romance, only good and true and forever. vesper/ellana — companion!vesper tries so so so hard to keep it professional with inquisitor lavellan but unfortunately no one can resist ellana lavellan's heart and spirit and tendency to be right exactly where vesper is trying to train vesper/morrigan — sometimes you are the inquisitor and hosting the empress of orlais' court mage, who is the only person you know even More unhinged than you are about lost histories and magical theory and you have long meandering conversations so so so late into the night and could almost imagine a world where— [vesper was privately, quietly bestotted from the beginning; it would be cool if they kissed about it] vesper/solas — *train noises*

[theacevampire]

Violent Storm

Pairing: Daichi x fem!Reader

Genre: romance, angst

Wordcount: ~2.3k

Warnings: language

Track: Phuture Noize, B-Front – Violent Storm.

A/N: This piece is for @kirakirasaku 's Rainy Love collab. The lyrics for Violent Storm. fit so perfectly with this (though the instrumental doesn't necessarily), I had include them in italics. They are obviously not mine but were written by Marco Spronk and Mark Pot.

I hear silence around me

The whole gym froze. For a moment one could hear a pin drop. Shock was written on every single face in the building. The arbitrator lifted his left arm. A short whistle. The sound of a sheet of paper being turned. A longer whistle. My heart skipped a beat. Bewilderment took over the gym for a second, before half the gym burst into screams of joy. Karasuno had won against Shiratorizawa.

The third-years moved first. A mix of sweat and tears streamed down Daichi’s face as he pulled Asahi into a tight hug, his hands gripping on the other’s shirt. Sugawara stumbled into them, clumsily joining their hug. All three screamed their lungs out, overpowered by their emotions and probably still not believing what was happening. Tsukishima, Kageyama and Hinata got tackled by Nishinoya and Tanaka, with Ennoshita, Yamaguchi, Kinoshita and Narita joining the human pile only milliseconds later.

Clouds are moving in

Everything felt so unreal. Kageyama and Nishinoya had to drag poor Hinata to the baseline, because his knees were too weak to carry his body. The players bowed to each other before walking to the middle and shaking hands with their opponents under the net. Karasuno watched Shiratorizawa leave the court in defeat, themselves swelling with pride.

They lined up one by one in front of the bleachers, but my eyes were on Daichi. “Thank you for all of your support! Thank you very much!” The sound of his voice caused the butterflies to flutter around and my heart skipped a beat. His gaze scanned through the rows, clearly looking for someone.

“Sawamura! Sugawara! Azumane!”, her voice called. Michimiya. The moment his eyes found her a proud smile spread on his lips and he held up a red lucky charm. By the looks of it, she had given it to him sometime before the match.

Dark heavens above me

My heart clenched. I knew it. I knew they liked each other, but my heart refused to accept it. My heart still hoped for having a chance with him, clung to the times he had brought me food when I had stayed in the library for too long and the times he encouraged me to call it a day and go home because otherwise all the studying would be pointless.

The first tear fell down my cheek. A happy one or a sad one, I couldn’t tell. Yeah, I felt heartbroken, but that didn’t stop me from feeling proud and happy for the team. They beat Shiratorizawa. They were going to the nationals. In their final tournament the third-years managed to make it through Miyagi’s qualifying rounds. My urge to just run down onto the court, hug Daichi and tell him how proud I was of him, was overwhelming, but it wasn’t my place. So, I watched the awards ceremony with a heavy heart, my mind torn between emotions. The medals on their chests shone brightly, though not as bright as their eyes. Slowly Karasuno seemed to realize what had happened. The tears had dried up and now proud smiles graced every single face. The Fallen Champions were standing again.

So hard to take in

When the announcer asked for another round of applause for Karasuno, I got up from my seat. In a moment the audience would be allowed on the court and I couldn’t put myself through seeing Daichi and Michimiya. Maybe someday. Michimiya was a nice girl. We talked a few times and while we weren’t even acquaintances, I couldn’t be mad at her – or at him – because nobody is in control of who they fall in love with. And if they were in love with each other I wouldn’t interfere. Neither of them would deserve it. Maybe someday I could even be happy for them. But not today. Not with my feelings caught in such a violent storm.

I feel so alive

So, I blazed a trail through the leaving crowd. Among the saddened fans of Shiratorizawa my own face didn’t stick out, though I still pulled my jacket closer to my body, hiding the Karasuno jersey Suga had given me in June after they had lost to Aoba Johsai. So I could bring them good luck, like he said. Ironically, he had given me a jersey with the number 1 on it. And now that number seemed to be burning on my skin as I looped my arms tighter and tighter around my upper body. My throat tightened; the air seemed to suffocate me. I needed to get out of the building.

Upon seeing the heavy rain clattering on the concrete, my dam broke. Hot tears streamed down my face as I pushed through the doors into the rain, past the people stopping to open their umbrellas. After breathing the stuffy air inside the gym for the last few hours, the rain was freezing cold on my skin and clothes, soaking me in seconds, but I didn’t care. At least this way it was easier to hide my tears.

Adrenaline is pumping

My innermost mind was in revolt. The desire to tell Daichi was raging in my body. I clenched my fist, digging my nails into my skin, focusing on the pain to distract myself from my heart demanding I turn around a go back into the gym.

I wandered a bit away from the building’s entrance, mindlessly, until I found a bench somewhere nobody would walk past me so I could dwell in my sorrow alone. It was so obvious Michimiya and Daichi liked each other, so why did it hurt so much? Why was today different? They hadn’t confessed their feelings, they hadn’t kissed, they had just acted like always. So why did it feel like my heart had been ripped out? Minutes passed as I just sat there, crying my heart out and letting the rain drench me.

I’m in overdrive

“Oh? What are you doing here?”, a curious voice chimed beside me.

Through the mix of tears and rain I could make out a person crouching in front of me. Blinking barely helped my vision but I recognized the red hair and the purple and white clothes. His voice ripped me from my trance. I felt every single rain drop on me, heard the rain’s roaring in the trees.

“Are you okay?” He paused for a second. “No. Sorry. Stupid question. A lonely, crying girl is hardly ever okay. Can I help you? Do you need something? I think I should have some chocolate left, if you want some. Or do you rather need someone to talk to? We don’t know each other, but sometimes talking to a stranger helps.” My only reaction was a shrug of my shoulders. As much as I wanted to talk, I didn’t trust my voice. “Shit. Okay. Should I just stay here and keep you company?”

Needing to be...

I hesitated, but ultimately nodded so he took a seat next to me on the bench. He was a stranger who I would never see again, so I would be spared of the next time seeing him and the embarrassment that would inevitably come along with it.

Minutes passed of the boy and me just sitting there and keeping each other company, staying drenched and me sobbing, sniffing and crying my heart out.

“Did you watch the match?” I nodded again. “Then you know my team lost, but we will be fine. And you will be fine too. Whatever sucks to the point you feel like soaking in the rain will go by and better days will come again.”

Violent storm

Before I could respond, a voice called my name. My heart skipped a beat and my body flinched before freezing. Shit. Of course, Daichi had to find me here. In that moment I just wished for the ground to swallow me. I wanted to disappear and never feel anything again. Was it possible to drown in the rain?

The boy next to me had noticed my tenseness and carefully took my hands in his. “Is he hurting you?” Seriousness had replaced every hint of curiosity in his voice. Shaking my head, I pointed to my heart. Surprisingly, he understood. “Heartbreak?” When I nodded, he hummed sympathetically. “I’ll leave the two of you alone then, but if something’s happening, just scream, okay?” He got up after giving me an encouraging pat on my knee and left. When he passed Daichi, I heard him hiss “Karasuno’s still pissing me off.”

I can see it coming in the distance

“You shouldn’t be out here. You’re gonna catch a cold.” He draped his jacket over my shoulders and even though it was just as soaked as my own clothes, my heart fluttered at the gesture.

It felt like an eternity of silence passed between Daichi and me, the only noise being the rain falling onto the earth. He stood next to me, silently, while my sobs slowly dried up.

“Suga talked to me”, he began after I had calmed down. “Just now in the locker room. Or rather, he lectured me. He told me how dense I was for not noticing Michimiya holds feelings for me when they were so obvious. How he fought the urge to hit me when she gave me the lucky charm today.” He chuckled shyly. “But me not realizing the girl I like returns my feelings is what made him actually angry. I really thought he would rip off my head. I think Suga’s gonna kill me if I don’t confess to her now.”

Once more there’s no way to resist it

When my last tear had rolled down my cheek, it had taken all my energy with it. I was exhausted and just wanted Daichi to tell me he would date Michimiya and leave again. I wanted to get over with the conversation and go home. I stood up with a heavy sigh. “Get to the point, Daichi. I’m tired. Just tell me what you want to tell me so I can go home and dry myself off and you can go to Michimiya and finally confess to her.” When I was tired I got bitchy and technically he didn’t deserve that, but I needed distance. Otherwise, I would never be able to move on.

Break free from our mutual existence

“Suga yelled at me how I didn’t even realize, when she showed up to the most important match in my high school career in my jersey. He told me how he gave it to her a few months ago after we lost to Seijoh.” My heart skipped a beat as his words seeped through my mind and my head flung around. There he stood, hands in his pockets, staring into the void with a glister in his eyes and a dreamy smile on his lips. “I mean, I noticed how pretty she looked in the jersey and my heart fluttered when I saw my number on it. God, I wanted to kiss her then and there, but I thought about what if it was just a coincidence.” His gaze fell on me and the smile widened.

Have mercy, oh violent storm

I thought I had no tears left to cry, but apparently there were still some left which were now dwelling in my eyes as I got overwhelmed by emotions. “Daichi, I–”

Strong, warm arms wrapped around my waist and my face got pulled into Daichi’s chest. And I let him. Because it felt safe. His clothes were as soaked as mine, but he still gave off enough body heat to give me comfort. “Everything’s gonna be fine. I’m here”, he whispered, the rain almost drowning his voice. Unintentionally, my fingers gripped into the fabric of his shirt, my nails probably digging into his skin, though he remained still, patiently waiting for me to calm down.

Rumble’s getting louder

After what felt like minutes of neither of us saying anything, my tears and sobs died down again and I dared to peel my face away from his chest and look up to him. His features hadn’t lost anything of their warmth and care, still smiling like bewitched. Gentle fingers brushed a strand of my drenched hair from my face, before resting on my neck. A single raindrop fell from a strand of his short hair right onto his lips and I couldn’t stop thinking about how bad I wanted him to kiss me.

As if he could read my mind, he bent down and closed the gap between our lips. The touch was gentle to test the waters and give me a chance to back away. But I didn’t want to, so I pulled him closer by his shirt, deepening the kiss. His lips tasted like a mix of rain, a hint of sweat and Daichi.

The ground is shaking

The kiss was intoxicating. My head spun around like crazy and the air in my lungs ran short. Still, I wanted this moment to last forever. Staying forever in Daichi’s embrace and kissing him. A gust of wind pulled on my hair like the storm raging in my heart. Only this time, I wasn’t afraid of the storm, because Daichi had turned the storm’s violence into devotion.

Both of us gasped for air, when we pulled away, our faces only millimeters away from each other. Though I missed the feeling of his lips on mine, the feeling of breathing freely was a relief. My throat worked normal again and neither my stomach nor my mind were twisting anymore.

“Let’s get inside, I don’t want you catching a cold.” His hand slipped in mine so easily as we made our way back into the warm walls of the Sendai City Gym.

Then realization hit me like a tidal wave. My feelings weren’t one-sided. Daichi liked me. I could cuddle with him now. Press my face into his chest. Kiss him. The thought knocked the whole air out of my lungs. He sensed it and his hand squeezed mine affirmingly, without him saying a word. But that’s all I needed.

Realize the power of madness closing in

[amjustagirl]

Hogwarts x Haikyuu AU

pairing: Iwaizumi Hajime x f! reader 

genre: angst / fluff

warnings: a series of misunderstandings

wc: 2.3k

m.list. ~ taglist. ~

a/n: back by popular demand, another installment of the hogwarts x haikyuu fluff series featuring the Gryffindor quidditch team and one exceedingly persistent Iwaizumi Hajime. you may want to read the installment featuring one very smug Slytherin beater Kuroo Tetsuro (here) to appreciate the first scene in this story. 

“What are we doing here, Iwaizumi?” 

He’d grabbed your hand on a hogsmeade weekend, asking if you had any plans. You lied, crossing your fingers behind your back, telling him you hadn’t. So you find yourself seated opposite him in Madam Puddifoot’s, smothered by pink and white frills, surrounded by porcelain teaware.

By all appearances, it looks like a date. It should be a date. 

But it isn’t. 

Instead of chatting with you, he looks distinctly out of place amidst the swarm of happy couples with a scowl on his face, tapping his fingers so aggressively you fear for the survival of any crockery on the table. 

“I needed to check up on someone”, he tells you half apologetically. You follow his line of vision.  

Ah. 

Kuroo Tetsurou - Slytherin beater, top potions student, is seated cozily with Iwaizumi’s junior on the Gryffindor quidditch team. You heard of the infamous bet between them, you’re surprised if anyone in Hogwarts doesn’t know of it given the ruckus that followed when Kuroo swaggered up to the Gryffindor team to wager the fate of his hair for a date with their substitute chaser (the sole girl on the team).

“I see”, you murmur, twisting the lace napkin in your fingers. “I shouldn’t have assumed otherwise.”

Iwaizumi frowns, finally turning to look at you.   

“Huh? What d’you mean - I thought you wouldn’t mind since you’ve always been a good friend - ”

You catch a glimpse of a dark head of hair moving towards the door from the corner of your eye. 

“They’re leaving. You should follow them”, you interrupt his stuttering with a wide smile that hurts your cheeks. Iwaizumi halts his incoherent flurry of excuses, only sparing you a glance before grabbing the bill and dashing off in the general direction of Kuroo. 

You purse your lips to keep them from trembling. 

You should’ve known that he wouldn’t be interested in you. Not when he’s so painfully attractive (especially when Oikawa and/or the Slytherin team aren’t around to knit his brows into a frown), so much so that his bloody biceps have their own fanclub. Not when he’s so laser focused on quidditch and his studies and his teammates and his friends, running flying tutorials for the younger students, keeping Tanaka and Nishinoya and Hinata and Yaku from blowing up Gryffindor tower or running afoul of the professors.

It’s your fault for assuming, for hoping, for wishing that Iwaizumi Hajime, your housemate of 6 years, longtime charms partner and the boy you’ve harboured a huge crush on for the past year and a half - might return your feelings after all. 

You should have known. You’re not winsome. Why would you ever win him? 

Wishing otherwise only ruins the heart. 

So you trudge back to school alone in the snow, skirting past the Gryffindor team who seem to be in some sort of an uproar, only allowing yourself to cry when you’ve drawn the curtains on your four poster bed to make sure you’re alone. 

It is not terribly difficult to avoid Iwaizumi Hajime for the next couple of days, at least until charms class rolls around. You’ve sat next to him ever since you were both first years, when his voice hadn’t broken and you were still taller than him. That’s how your friendship blossomed, but you haven’t worked up the courage to face him just yet. 

So you choose to displace Daichi by stealing his usual seat next to Sugawara, pointedly ignoring the furrow in Iwaizumi’s brow and the confused looks he tosses at you until you flee back to your dorm after class. 

You’re being dramatic, you know. But you figure the best way of getting over Iwaizumi Hajime is to cut him out of your life, at least for now. 

“Yoohoo!” 

You turn to stare at Oikawa Tooru, captain of the Slytherin team, a classmate you’ve maybe exchanged less than ten words with in your entire Hogwarts career. 

He’s probably shouting at someone else. 

“Gryffindor-chan!” 

Nope. He’s definitely referring to you. 

You curse your parents for your laughably short legs when Oikawa effortlessly catches up to you in the hallway, pulling you into an empty classroom heedless to your protests. 

“I have a name, you know?” you snarl, snatching your wrist back. 

“You Gryffindors are always so fun to tease!” Oikawa lilts, head tilted to look down towards you. “Don’t be grumpy like Iwa-chan” - his eyes gleam when your lips tighten - “oh did I hit a nerve? Heard you’ve been ignoring him for a few days now.”

“It’s really none of your business”, you inform him pertly, inching towards the door. 

“No, it isn’t”, he agrees easily, with a smile you instantly distrust. “But I have a proposition for you.”

Curiosity kills Mrs Norris. It is no different for you. 

“What?” you ask, fingers already grasping your wand, ready to curse him at the first sign of trouble. “What do you want from me?”

“So prickly, just like Iwa-chan - no wonder you’re friends”, Oikawa teases, holding his hands up to placate you when you brandish your wand at him. 

“Speak or I’m leaving.”

“Okay, okay. Sheesh. You know - if you really wanted Iwa-chan’s attention, you should go on a date with me. That’ll show him.”

You stare at him. You’re not even aware that your jaw hangs open and your eyes bug out inelegantly. 

“What!” he cries, pressing a hand to his chest. “I’m doing this out of the goodness of my heart to get my best friend a girl he deserves.”

You gather yourself, narrowing your eyes at him. “What’s in it for you?” 

“Well - you could sit on the Slytherin stands and cheer for my team, that’ll distract Iwa-chan to no end”

“Go to hell, Oikawa”, you tell him flatly. “Go to hell.”

You slam the door behind you. 

“Hey.” 

Iwaizumi Hajime springs to his feet the minute you step foot into the common room. You nod jerkily to acknowledge his greeting but you walk right past him, heading straight for the girls’ dorm. 

“Can we talk?” he calls after you when you’re already halfway up the flight of stairs. 

You pretend you don’t hear him. You think that should deter him, but Iwaizumi Hajime is persistence personified, so you really shouldn’t have been surprised when Akane Yamamoto comes barrelling into your room yelling that the Gryffindor quidditch team is determined to breach the centuries old magical barriers barring boys from entering the girls’ dorms. 

“What the hell is going on?” You hear Daichi thunder when you peer over the bannister. 

Yaku, Hinata, Tanaka, Yamamoto and Nishinoya are all dogpiled onto the staircase - now a steep slope, cheering Iwaizumi as he clambers on their backs, face set in determination. You giggle despite yourself as you watch Daichi flail in confusion when he notices his otherwise trustworthy vice captain in the thick of this mayhem. 

“IWAIZUMI!” 

“He’s boldly going where no man has gone before” Yaku tells Daichi approvingly from the bottom of the pile. 

“Charting new frontiers!” Hinata pipes up, though he immediately cringes when Daichi turns the full force of his glare on him. 

“To infinity and beyond!” Tanaka and Nishinoya whoop.  

“This has gone on ENOUGH!” Daichi roars, and the enchanted staircase clearly agrees with him, because with an echoing creak that eerily resembles a blech, the smooth wood of the slope ripples, rolling the entire Gryffindor quidditch team (sans Daichi, of course) into a pile on the common room floor. 

Even though the rest of his teammates are complaining laughingly and railing against the antiquated enchantments, Iwaizumi continues to stare stubbornly at you. 

It’s not over, his intense gaze promises you. 

You shake your head, heading back to the safety of your room. 

Your window rattles. The wind howls. 

You shrug it away as a particularly violent storm, burrowing deeper into your nest of blankets. 

Then you hear a loud crack. 

“We’re under attack!!!” you hear one of your roommates shriek before fleeing the room. 

The sorting hat must’ve made a mistake with her, you mutter under your breath, grabbing your wand before stomping towards the window. You yank the curtains back. 

Iwaizumi Hajime stares at you sheepishly through the glass, pebbles in hand, hanging on to his broomstick in the gale for dear life. 

“Are you crazy?” you shriek. “Have you lost your mind?” 

“You weren’t talking to me”, he mouths, forehead creased in frustration. “I want to know what’s wrong.” 

Never mind your other idiot roommates cooing in the background at how impossibly romantic the entire situation is. He’s never once looked at you with any ounce of romantic interest, which is fine, really, you’ll get over that, but he’s making it so much harder by badgering you incessantly. You want him to leave you the hell alone, so you can lick your wounds in peace and mope to your heart’s content. 

“Get lost!” 

“Not until you tell me what’s wrong!”

You’re about to rip your hair out from frustration. 

“Fine. Meet me in the common room then”, you mouth back, hands on hips, looking decidedly annoyed. Iwaizumi doesn’t even pretend to look fazed, grinning at you as he speeds off. 

You trudge down the staircase, waiting until he tumbles into the common room, broomstick still in hand. There are far too many eavesdropping ears in the common room, and you have no wish to embarrass yourself more than he has already, so you march him to his dorm. 

Daichi and Yaku watch with wide eyes as Iwaizumi meekly follows your order to strip off his wet robes and get into dry ones now - or serve him right for catching his death from a cold. Then with a sharp muffiliato, you draw the curtains, shielding yourself from any prying eyes.

“So.”

“What can I say to get you to leave. me. alone?” you ground out. 

“Why don’t you tell me why you want me to leave you alone”, Iwaizumi replies, painfully earnest as he inches closer towards you. “Cos to me it seemed to me you just got mad with me right after Hogsmeade and I really don’t know what I did wrong. And even though Shittykawa kind of told me I’m a fool for not knowing what happened - maybe you’d want to tell me yourself?” 

“You didn’t do anything wrong”, you inform the godzilla toy sitting on the bottom of the bed (courtesy of his muggle mother, he told you once). 

“Was it because I left you at Madam Puddifoot’s? I was worried about my teammate and thought Kuroo was up to no good, but it’s no excuse, I shouldn’t have left you to walk back alone.”

“It’s not that either”, you murmur, even though that memory stings. “It’s not you, Iwaizumi.” 

“Really? I’m having a hard time believing that given the lengths you’ve gone to avoid me.” 

“Really,” you emphasise, still refusing to meet his eyes. But you know he’s not convinced and you owe him an explanation, if only to get him off your back so you swallow nervously, take a deep breath and -  

“I just - I just really need to get over you.”

“Wha - What d’you mean, get over me? I don’t get it - ” 

Your temper flares up. 

Iwaizumi Hajime stares at you, open mouthed. You itch to reach out and shut his mouth for him, but you barrel on to the bitter end - 

“Do I have to spell out everything for you?” you snarl like a cornered animal, frantically gathering up the remnant shreds of your dignity to piece it together into a makeshift shield.

“I like you, okay? I like you, Iwaizumi Hajime, and I got so ridiculously excited when you asked me to Hogsmeade that I didn’t realise you were only asking me as a friend. “ 

“I’ve liked you for so long that I need time to get over you, okay? Can’t you even give me that?” 

The room is so quiet you can hear a pin drop in the room. 

This is embarrassing, you think to yourself. This is embarrassing, and you shouldn’t need to put yourself through further humiliation by waiting for him to turn you down again. 

So you reach out to tug the curtains to make a hasty escape when Iwaizumi’s arm shoots out to grab your wrist. 

“I don’t want you to get over me.”

“What?” 

“I said, I don’t want you to get over me”, Iwaizumi mutters, his ears turning so red you’re surprised his hair hasn’t caught fire yet.  

“Why not?” It’s your turn to make him squirm. 

“Because I like you too, okay? I didn’t - I didn’t really figure it out until you stopped talking to me and I missed you so much I swear on Merlin’s balls I was willing to try even the stupidest suggestions from my idiot teammates - “ 

“I could tell”, you interject dryly and he chuckles, cheeks bright pink. 

“Daichi was not pleased, let me tell you that”, he admits with a twinkle in his usually serious eyes. 

“But it’s worth it. You’re worth every bit of it.”

“Really?” you breathe. “You really, really like me?”

“Really” he says firmly, lacing his fingers with yours. “I really, really like you.”

“We’re a pair of fools then”, you say and he laughs aloud, a glorious sound you’ll never grow sick of.

“You both really, really are”, Yaku calls from the other side of the room. 

You both stiffen. You don’t even realise your conversation has stretched long enough for your hastily cast muffiliato charm to wear off. Now you can even hear Daichi trying to shush his irrepressible teammate muttering about ungodly six am practices that he’s not going to get enough sleep for if his idiot vice captain doesn’t get his love life in order soon. 

“We’ll talk more tomorrow”, he whispers, breath warm against your cheek.

“I’m looking forward to tomorrow then”, you whisper back, your heart fluttering in your chest as he escorts you back to the foot of the staircase to the girls’ dorm, chivalrously refusing to turn away until you step into your room. 

You fall into bed, a giddy smile on your face. The foolish wish your heart made has come true. 

Previously: 

Miya Atsumu (Slytherin).~  Miya Osamu (Slytherin).~ Kita Shinsuke.  (Ravenclaw)~ Kuroo Tetsuro. (Slytherin) ~  Bokuto Koutarou. (Hufflepuff)~  Sakusa Kiyoomi. (Ravenclaw) ~

[mrskodzuken]

☔️ Masterlist ☔️

*will update these with the works’ links when they’re up one by one ☺️

Haikyuu!!

Iwaizumi Hajime x gn!reader - @smolla-than-a-bug

Iwaizumi Hajime x gn!reader - @love-amihan

"Making It Hard To Breathe" / Tanaka Ryuunosuke x gn!reader - @mirakeul

Akaashi Keiji x fem!reader (nsfw) - @rosesandtoshi

Nicollas Romero x gn!reader - @atsuminthe

"Of Forts and Cards on a Rainy Night" / Kozume Kenma x fem!reader - @/kirakirasaku

Ennoshita Chikara x gn!reader - @sunshinetoshi

Meian Shugo x fem!reader - @cemeiia

Miya Atsumu x fem!reader (art) - @miyamartina

"From This Moment" / Ushijima Wakatoshi x fem!reader (nsfw) - @rosesandtoshi

"Impostor Syndrome" / Hirugami Sachiro x reader (not specified but assumed as gn!reader) - @laineeey00-ontherun

Oikawa Tooru x male!reader - @paradise-creator

Semi Eita x fem!reader (playlist) - @prettyiwa

Sugawara Koushi x gn!reader - @duckymcdoorknob

Bokuto Koutarou x gn!reader - @antisocia1-bean

“Pluviophile” / Kita Shinsuke x fem!reader - @ara-mitsue

Miya Atsumu x fem!reader - @xmyshya

Kita Shinsuke x fem!reader - @xmyshya

"Food Rivals" / Miya Osamu x fem!reader - @ushisrever

Oikawa Tooru x fem!reader - @kyojuros-kitten

“El Diablo (Send Noods)“ / Sugawara Koushi x gn!reader - @/kirakirasaku

“The Sound of Rain” / Tsukishima Kei x gn!reader - @rae-naka-hara

Kageyama Tobio x gn!reader (art) - @shimishimii

"It's Not Such A Bad Thing To Fall In Love" / Tsukishima Kei x gn!xreader - @mitsuyaya

Miya Osamu x fem!reader - @quirrrky

Kozume Kenma x gn!reader - @weewoo186

Suna Rintarou x gn!reader - @perruvianily

Hirugami Sachirou x fem!reader - @quirrrky

"Violent Storm" / Sawamura Daichi x fem!reader - @theacevampire

"Love Is Stored In Raindrops" / Shimizu Kiyoko x fem!reader - @krystalgaia

Jujutsu Kaisen

Gojo Satoru x gn!reader - @smolla-than-a-bug

Itadori Yuuji x fem!reader - @kireirengoku

Nanami Kento x fem!reader (smut + fluff/nsfw) - @imo-chan-imagines

Geto Suguru x fem!reader - @notsoladylady

Fushiguro Toji x gn!reader - @lovemeian

Fushiguro Toji x fem!reader - @roanniee

Fushiguro Megumi x gn!reader - @dreamesamu

Boku no Hero Academia/My Hero Academia

Midoriya Izuku x gn!reader - @mirakeul

"Pitter Patter" / Aizawa Shouta x fem!reader (smut + fluff/nsfw) - @imo-chan-imagines

Shinsou Hitoshi x gn!reader (art) - @heyheysey

Todoroki Shoto x gn!reader - @illyaana

“In The Rain” / Todoroki Shoto x gn!reader - @water-and-grass

“Vedriti” / Bakugou Katsuki x gn!reader - @melsun

“Still Me” / Bakugou Katsuki x gn!reader - @purelyfictional

Tokyo Revengers

Sano Shinichiro x gn!reader - @love-amihan

Sano Manjiro x fem!reader - @notsoladylady

Ryuguji Ken x fem!reader - @aiiwa

Seishu Inui x gn!reader (art) - @emergencyfoodpaimon

updated 02-21-2022, Monday

[legendaryoikawa]

haikyuu boys as part of the mafia + how he met you

note: i just thought of this while im washing the dishes HAHA. female reader insert. also happy birthday to the ultimate baby bokuto 🥺💖

warnings: nsfw, mention of violence, grammar issues because im dumb asf

bokuto kotaro 

decoy/manipulator

has a two persona that is best used especially when he is in the midst of a deal

even though he’s a decoy, it is enough to send a rival down to his knees and beg for his mercy

Because bokuto doesn’t show tiny bit of his mercy especially when his dominating side takes over him

Is a good manipulator. To the point that you would have constant nightmares with just the slip of his words.

Good with his hands. Quite aggressive. Yet he plays his cards elegantly like the man he is.

you met him in a luxurious casino. you were the attendant of his table and you could always note how fast his mood changes and it was scary. you carefully stacked the chips in front of him, feeling the heavy weight of his stern gaze. you saw from your peripheral how his hands slid down the edge of the mahogany. “play with me.”

you didn’t answere and continued on organizing the stacks for a new game as per bokuto’s request but he repeated those words again, “play with me. you. im talking to you.”

and you did. he lost. and that’s what made you terrified even more. he grew dejected and stormed out of the casino like a raging tsunami.

that didn’t made bokuto happy at all, so he made sure to find you so he could play with you once more. it didn’t caused him a sweat when he found out where your apartment complex is. and his words have shaken you when he laid the stacks of money on your table and said, “play with me. the loser gets to kiss the winner, if you’ll allow it of course.”

there’s something with his words that are like witchcraft spells. and you found yourself nodding, yes.

daichi sawamura - 

the kingpin. 

daichi is the leader of the mafia group: karasuno or better known as their alias ‘lethal crows’.

 daichi is born into the syndicate. so he doesn’t get caught up unlike amateur people in the black world. 

undergone strenuous training just to prove himself as the worthy kingpin. 

he often orders the assassination and criminal deals. 

he isn’t as ‘intimidating’ like how people expect kingpins to act, but daichi has his own way that makes people so afraid of him. if he wishes to kill on the spot, he kills. even if you’re something important, if you annoyed him to the edge, you’re six feet deep.

however, one flaw of daichi is that he prioritizes his members that he doesn’t oversees the barriers coming his way. 

you met him during this time when curiosity get the best of you. you entered this fancy yet abandoned building in hopes of scavenging something that was left by its past owners. however, no treasure came to your view, rather a drug deal with bunch of rogue looking guys.

“daichi?” you were so shocked to see your co-worker in an expensive designer coat sitting in this throne like chair with stack of bills piled in front of him. he isn’t the typical guy you were used to seeing: the goofy guy in the fryer with his greasy apron. 

you didn’t expect him to be so, different.

“who’s this?” tanaka rose up to his seat. cracking his knuckles while giving you a dangerous look. 

“let her enjoy her remaining life as a free citizen. after this..” he counted the bills and paused at look at you, “you’re coming with me.”

akaashi keiji 

weaponry/gadgets specialist

Quite reserved.

He is often hired to big projects but he would turn it down if it requires his apperance.

No matter how much his members push him to bite off the job he wouldn’t, not unless he works up in the roofs, alone.

Usually works in the shadows. Where his identity is hidden.

Ask him about any weapon, he’ll have an answer in a few.

give him a vague description of a bomb, he’ll have it ready, ticking, for you.

he met you when you walked into his first walked in his gang’s base, with your red stilettos clicking aggressively against the marbled tile. then comes the second meeting and the third till you’ve both made good acquaintances. you liked him. for both his smart mouth and big dick. if he wasn’t just too difficult to persevere.

but you could see that way his breath hitched the moment you walked in with your fitted versace dress. which made you cocky from head to toe.

he could note the way your lips tugs upward as you scan the whole interior of the place. you didn’t need it though as you know every curvature of the place. you were just that shit going around him so you could give him a good view of yourself that he refused indulge in.

you stopped midway to stare at him from head to toe then back to his pretty face. gaze fixated on his kissable lips. despite your urge to kiss him up, you decided to tease, “give me something bold.”

“pardon?”

“you heard me, akaashi.”

and he gave you a fancy handgun, a caliber. however that wasn’t your request. you pulled his shirt and whispered to his ears, “i said i want something bold. want me to spell it out for you? A-k-a-a-s-h-i”

and you walked away. just like that and things just became bold in your apartment complex.

oikawa tooru 

underboss/ loverboy

Smooth talker. Usually uses his pretty face as an advantage to get something off girls that swoon over him.

he is quite unpredictable as well.

he approached you out of nowhere in the met gala and you were forced to be in his own disposal. he isn’t really a headache to deal with. but you aren’t here to flirt around especially with pretty boys like him. there is something in him that is similar with a ticking bomb. so best is to admire guys like him at a distance.

however, oikawa is determined to chase over you. because you are like a diamond in a room full of charcoal.

he approached you immediately when you stopped by in the concession stand to nurse yourself a cocktail.

“fancy a dance, miss?”

you looked at him. oikawa tooru. beautiful as they say but you immediately walked away.

oikawa smirked to himself, “if you just don’thold a precious information. i wouldn’t chase over a doll like you.”

tendou satori 

head of intelligence

can predict the moves of the rivalry gang

so in result they end up getting butchered thanks to tendou’s half assed predictions.

guess monster

the boys entered the room with a agitated expression painting their faces.

tendou raised a brow and looked at the boy filling in their ammos. “what’s up boys?”

“we got played.”

tendou grinned. “oh, interesting. who pulled an ace card?”

“y/n of the yakuza.”

tendou made sure to track you down for meddling in his play.

kyoutani kentaro 

torture specialist

All the dirty work is assigned to him

But kyoutani is quite carefree with his job, to the point where oikawa needs to step in to clean after his mess.

he is really brutal when it comes to finishing a rat pack from a rivalry gang and he gives no mercy.

knows every possible way of killing

but he fancies using the bat since it can strengthen his arm strength and it’s practical.

loves the sound of metal clashing with hard skull with the splasing sound of fresh blood slightly staining his skin.

you were both childhood sweethearts. however, you were the only one pursuing him because he doesn’t want to commit anything to you. not until you found out about him and his crucial job out of accident and he was forced to confess to you, and it was the reason why he don’t want to accept your heart.

one time he went home and he couldn’t find any trace of you. panic coursed through his veins when he heard your cries over the line.

“fucking touch her and i will drench all of you in boiling acid.”

ushijima wakatoshi 

hand to hand combatant

people are usually afraid of him because of how he could flip people off easily without drenching a sweat

he has the capability to run a whole gang just by himself

but he would just rather go and fight fist first

and chill afterwards

both of you met when you were scouted as a new member and part of the group’s test is to have a hand to hand combant against wakatoshi.

you were mortified when he approached you. with his large built and driving aura.

“ready?” he asked lowly.

“no?”

he raised a brow, “i bet.”

and he let you win just so you would get accepted in the gang.

tanaka ryuunosuke

hand to hand combatant

really moody

aggressive and violent

could kill with just the use of his hands, alone. 

but he has his soft moments too but this happens when the moon turns blue.

you were tasked to be his sparring mate. and to be frank, you were really spooked and frightened that you won’t get out of the arena, working let alone, alive. 

and to see him up close, it was really, a deal. he’s tall, with a slim yet broad frame, and really is intimidating. he gave you a look and ruffled your hair. 

“i don’t hurt girls.”

that was the first time you saw him smile. rumors said he never did. 

sugawara koushi 

consigliere

smart shit. 

he’s usually responsible for the activities of the group.

master at hiding the illegal stuff away from prying eyes

and a genius at continuing the legal stuffs even though it’s just for a front

he is also the adviser of the kingpin, especially at plans and deals on heists and forgery

at some point, he is the official diplomat for Japan.

he met you when he is trying to study the floor plan on the central bank. he was in this beige tux, with his gray hair brush up to give justice to his whole other persona. 

you came up to him and offered him installation plans and bank deals perfect for a bachelor like him. 

he gave you a smile, “i will be meeting you soon.”

and he did. in a creepy dali mask and a red overalls. “i told you, i will be back.”

iwaizumi hajime 

sniper

he goes with codes to maintain his anonymity

he works like a black panther, often sleek yet deadly

even the police couldn’t catch up with his hideous crimes because he never leaves unwanted trails behind

kills in his own special way

one time, he made someone swallow a C-4 and stitched his neck leaving it looking so grotesque

and boom, red, bloody like a slaughter house

he once made his way onto one of oikawa’s fancy bar to unwind. however, things went distrupt when there was a sudden shootout. he was beyond amused at how petty the shooters were aiming down at him. it was full of chaos.

he ducked down to fill in his ammos but he could see a figure crouched down underneath the satin cloths drench haphazardly above the tall tables.

he yanked the cloth and saw you there, looking lost as fuck. “what the hell are you doing here?!”

your eyes widened at the sight of the handsome man looking down at you as if you’re some unknown species. “uhm— chilling?”

he repeated your words. “chilling? in a middle of a fucking shoot out?”

“yo. i was lost okay? i don’t know where the exit is”

he grabbed you and threw his arms over your head so you’re protected from the stray bullets ricocheting over the place. “you’re a fucking goner.”

—

i hope you guys like this 🥺💖💖

[thisisthehardestthing]

тоска, Tanaka x Reader, 18+

Written for The Smut Pile Server Collab: Mafia AU | MASTERLIST HERE.

тоска tus-ka: Russian, noun It is a dull ache of the soul, a sick pining, a vague restlessness, mental throes, yearning. In particular cases, it may be the desire for somebody or something specific, nostalgia, lovesickness.

Russian Mafia AU: Tanaka Ryu x A Reader OC Rating: E for explicit Warnings: Violence, Blood, Death, Oral sex, Public Sex, Grinding, Cheating, Denied Orgasm, Manipulation, YEARNING Word count: 11,752 Part 1 | Part 2

GLOSSARY

This is my baby. I have spent so much time writing this. I won’t give too big of an intro. Please enjoy.

Special thanks to: @joyousandverywarlike​​​ for being my ride-or-die beta,  @pleasantanathema​​��� , @present-mel​​​​ and @linestrider​​​ for hosting this collab, and everyone in the server for being amazing friends. I would not have been able to write this without any of you, and I truly mean that.

1.2

Part 1 - Valentina

The room is all rich browns and leather, an oiled hardwood floor, mahogany furniture and taxidermied bears. Against the wall, watching over everything with a bored expression is Daichi "The Bulldog" Sawamurov, Mafia Boss of the Bashkortoskaya. His brown eyes inspect his nails as another grunt echoes in the room. Beside him, you, Valentina Sawamurova, stand tall, a well-manicured hand hooked onto his bicep. In a neat line with arms clasped behind their backs stand six bratji, 'brothers', the hitmen of the Security team. They all watch as a shaved-haired man beats the shit out of a pariah.

Tanaka "Khazak" Ryunoslav wipes his tattooed knuckles, alternating X and O’s, onto a white handkerchief pulled from his neatly pressed slacks, staining the fabric red with blood. It is not his. In a simple chair at the centre of the room, a man -no, he doesn't deserve to be called a man- a boy slumps forward. His head hangs low as blood seeps from his brow, nose, mouth. A tooth lays in his drenched lap. Shivers run down Tanaka's spine as he takes in the defeated form of one of his boyevika.

"Huh? Nothing to say for yourself, predatel?" he questions, bruised knuckles tugging the fallen head of his ex-comrade up to peer into their eyes, almost swollen shut.

"I did not betray the Bratva, I swear on my babu-" 

"You only swear on God and the Pakhan, traitor." Tanaka interrupts, releasing his grip so that the boy’s head falls back down in a large swing before lifting up with a painful groan. The Bulldog sighs, checks the time on a glinting gold Rolex. Your fingers slip from the bulging bicep to cross in front of your chest. He nods to you, keep watching, and you smile back, wide, catty, red lipstick violent against white teeth.

"Tanaka, enough. Finish him and dispose of the body. I am tired of his crying. Like a baby. Ha!"

"Da, Boss."

"Make sure his friends are sent a message, also."

"Of course."

Tanaka doesn't take his eyes off the trembling informant but acknowledges the Boss's departure with a casual wave. Most people wouldn't have the audacity to be so lax to the Head, but he isn't just anyone. He's the most trusted. More than you.

"Nyet, nyet, nyet, nyet!" the rat cries, blood dripping from the corner of his mouth and splashing onto the floor as he struggles against the bonds. Filthy. Fuck, how Tanaka loves it. He holds his hand out and a more competent, loyal, brat hands him a gun. His fingers curl around the weighted metal of the handle with a sigh, cocking it, and without hesitation, pulls the trigger.

.

.

.

There are only a few seconds of silence after the bang, just enough for Tanaka to relish in the feeling of complete calm after the storm. The hole between the eyes spits blood onto his crisp white shirt, before the lifeless body is untied by his boyevika in the room and dragged out to be 'made an example of'. One by one, the men clean up. A mop, bleach, breaking down the chair for firewood later. No loose ends, including The Khazak's shirt as he unbuttons it to be burnt with the chair. All the while, you watch from the sidelines, against the wall, as the wife of the Boss should.

Your toes tap rhythmically against the floor, the clackclackclack of your stilettoes a steady beat for the men to work to, but your eyes are on Tanaka's back. So muscular, so supple, still shivering from the endorphins of taking a life. The twin pistols tattooed on either shoulder blade seem armed, willing to fire again. 

You watch as he drops down fluidly with crossed legs to sit on the floor in the very spot he killed the predatel with no remorse, taking deep lungfuls of air to relish in the feeling. He can feel your eyes on him, a smile threatening to spread across his lips as he turns his head over his shoulder to peer at your scrutinising gaze -which is very careful not to let your lust show. But he knows it's there. He can taste it on his heavy tongue.

One by one, the men walk from the room, leaving only the two of you in your husband's office. The oak door shuts.

"Tell me, Gadyuka, how was I?" Tanaka enquires, eyes closed and head straight so that you can see the back of his scalp move as he speaks. The shorn hair shimmies and waves with his words, washing over you in the vast expanse of the room. Your pseudonym, 'viper', poison in your veins.

"Same as always: bloody," you hum, pushing off the wall and walking in front of him to lean against the broad desk. "You enjoy making a mess, don't you, Ryu?" you use your nickname for him, not his name, or his pseudonym, but something more intimate. He barks out a laugh, chest shaking as he examines the backs of his knuckles with gleaming eyes.

"Blyat, you know damn well that I do."

Like a gunshot has just echoed once again, the silence in the room is deafening. Your gazes lock, his ocean-grey ones with your cat-like stare. From his position on the floor, he looks up at you. Your stocking-clad legs are inviting his hands to stroke up them, and he's lucky enough to see the hint of the garter strap under your short skirt. He licks his lips. You tap the desk behind you impatiently, nails clacking against the glossy hardwood.

"My husband is going away on business in a week."

"I know, I arranged security."

"You're not going with him?" you ask, eyebrow quirking, no longer tapping the table. Tanaka shakes his head, a coy smile pulling at the corner of his lips, dried blood cracking on his sharp jaw.

"Then where will you be, Khazak?"

The grin almost splits his face in half with his reply, "in your bed, Gadyuka."

His bluntness never fails to shock you, to send heat pooling between your thighs and your heart spasming beneath your ribs. You almost want to have him right there, on top of the ledgers and documents of the many businesses Daichi is in charge of. Tanaka places his strong hands on the floor, easily dragging his body to your feet where he sits once more, staring up with eyes cloudy like the spray of a hurricane. A palm wraps behind your right leg to pull it close to his lips, kissing the lycra, the apex of your kneecap. His touch ripples through your skin so that your chin tilts up, breaking the gravity of his eye contact.

"Careful, Ryunoslav, not here."

His teeth nip at the fabric.

"I can not wait a week to taste you, Val."

"The cameras-"

"Are off because of the interrogation. Only I have the code to enable them for this room."

Calloused palms drag up the backs of your thighs, the stocking tugging slightly as it catches, until they pass the band where they wrap around your thighs, secured with a garter. You almost beg him to feel higher, to grab the fold of your ass, instead, you bite your lip between your teeth in thought.

"Then we must be quick, get under the desk." 

You don't tell him how unusual it would be if you were found to sit in your husband's chair, but with lust swimming from your thighs to drown your mind, it's not important. 

Tanaka is always rowdier after a kill, high off adrenaline, energy flowing in his veins that wants to devour everything in its path. He prefers to devour you. To savour your taste with his head between your supple thighs, to feel you come undone around his quick-witted tongue. With you balancing so precariously on the edge of the leather office chair, he can barely contain his onslaught of touch, desperate to hear you moan in the sound-proofed room. He's tucked so tightly between your knees, his broad yet lean shoulders spreading you so that he sees the dampened lace beneath your skirt.

It never takes much to arouse you. He likes to think it's only him that can pull forth your wetness from your folds like the moon coaxing the tides. He doesn't waste time, doesn't stop to watch the string of slick connecting the fabric to your cunt as his thumbs pull it to the side. He licks a long stripe up your slit and moans into the taste like a man starved. It's times like these when you wish he had hair for you to grab on to, so you settle on gripping the edge of the mahogany desk until your knuckles pale and forearms burn.

His tongue dances between your folds, lapping up each new wave of wetness that touches the shore of the muscle, only nudging the bundle of nerves at the top with a slight jostle.

"Don't tease me, Ryu, not in here," you breathe out at him between his licks, to which he chuckles, head turning to muffle the laughter against your inner thigh.

"Prosti," he apologises, the grey in his eyes glimmering with childish glee, "I can't help it sometimes." 

But he doesn't give you a chance to reply before his lips attach once more to your throbbing skin, wrapping around your swollen clit to suck greedily. Finally, he hears you moan, the sound kissing his sensitive ears like cool ocean spray. It's not loud, more constricted, but it's for him, because of him.

You feel how he sucks you into him, swallowing your heat and lust and desire with his mouth, having it all flow back into your body to stir at the whirlpool between your legs and behind your eyelids. It's torrential, dizzying, you're dragged beneath the waves, chest heaving as if you're drowning, 

but then it stops 

and the sea dies down, leaving your battered body behind.

Tanaka pulls away, silently. His palms close your legs, knees knocking together, his thumbs teasing circles against the bone. You're aching from your denied orgasm, the pained moan in your throat cutting off as a knock sounds in the room.

"Come in," you clear your throat, repeating the command.

One of Daichi's body guard's strides into the room, a look of shock on his face at your seat before he masks it quickly. His long brown hair is tied up neatly into a bun, a slight stubble on his chin tells you he hasn't slept properly in a few days. You can feel the heat radiating from your cheeks, feel the static in your hair that you smooth down. Tanaka keeps tracing shapes into your thighs, keeping the fire in your gut from extinguishing.

"Yes?" you thank Saint Mary that your voice doesn't tremble, "what is it?"

"Mrs. Sawamurova," he nods a greeting, "The Boss says he will take you out for dinner tonight and has sent me to escort you back to the main estate in preparations."

"Of course, I look forward to it."

You kick away Tanaka's hands, standing at the same time to walk around the table and follow the guard you know as Alexei Asahi from your husband's office. It means leaving The Khazak under the desk, along with a piece of your dignity.

***

Dinner is the kind with clinking glasses and soft chatter. The lighting is dim, intimate, with a soft glow that bounces off the crystal and silverware. As usual, the two of you are seated in the middle of the restaurant, the surrounding tables strategically blocking the view of you and Daichi from all the windows and doors, as well as the bodies seated in them. You can never be too careful, even if your husband owns the restaurant -or the entire town. To your left, behind Daichi and closest to the door, sits Tanaka.

"You look beautiful tonight, darling," Daichi says, taking a bite of his steak.

You do. The black silk dress lays flat against your chest, the deep v tailored perfectly. The tie behind your neck falls softly to your waist. Against your skin is a gold pendant, a coin pressed with the Sawamarov crest. Sleeveless and backless, the dress shows your beautiful viper tattoo curling down your right arm as though protecting you. It’s jaw opens near your wrist to bite anyone you may touch. You hold your glass of wine, swirling it before you sip.

"Thank you, my love. You bought me this dress for our first date."

"And that engagement ring on our second."

You swallow down your guilt, thighs clenching together, the silk fabric teasingly softly against your still-ignited skin. You give him a pointed stare, leaning forward ever so slightly to whisper over the table.

"I wouldn't call that a second date. We never left each other after the first."

Daichi laughs heartily, waves for another bottle of wine, eyes shining with the memory of the very active week in a skiing lodge. He hopes he can recreate some of it tonight, knowing he's been neglecting you, ignoring your needs. He glances down at the subtle curve of the fabric around your slight breast, the hint of the peony tattoo peeking under the edge of your neckline, low on your sternum; it’s the only delicate thing about you.

Daichi watches as you excuse yourself to use the restroom, the way your hips sway beneath the silk as though you have a secret. He frowns when the door closes, checking his watch for the time and pouring a shot of vodka to swallow down. You do have a secret. The waiter takes away the plates, bringing a simple dessert to share with the wine, and when you sit back down with a happy sigh, The Bulldog tries to sniff it out. He taps the table with two fingers and the nearest bodyguards turn slightly away to give you both privacy.

“I was told you were seated at my desk.”

A bite of mousse passes between your red lips with a small smile, eyes penetrating his gaze and not faltering. 

“Can a wife not sit in her husband’s chair?”

“Nyet, you know this. Why?”

“Calm down, my love.”

He fixes his cuff links, leaning back in his chair so that the gold chain around his neck glints in the light. His strong brow shadows his darkening eyes, lips pressing into a thin line, and, true to his nickname, it seems as though his muscles inflate. It makes you melt to see him hard, pectorals and biceps wanting to burst through the fabric of his Armani shirt. The spoon clinks against the plate and you reach across the table, viper stretching to grab his hand and bring it to your lips with a soft kiss, red lipstick on his jewelled knuckles. As much as you want to flicker your gaze to the man behind your husband, you hold firm.

“It’s embarrassing, but I’ll tell you. Come closer so I can whisper,” you usher him in, and Daichi grunts but follows your suggestion. He has no reason to doubt you, yet his gut is telling him you were doing more than just resting your heeled feet. He watches your pink tongue lick your bottom lip, teeth cracking between them with a coy smile.

“As you know, it has been quite some time since we’ve, how should I put this, made love.”

“I know.”

“Had I known we were going to dine tonight, fuck tonight, I would not have.”

“Your point, Gadyuka.”

Your whisper turns into a low hum, right hand squeezing his and your left hand toying with the coin pendant around your neck. Butterflies swirl in your gut, but you kill them swiftly with venom. He can sniff out any insecurity.

“I was masturbating.”

“What?”

“I was masturbating. Touching myself. In your chair, by your desk, thinking of you. I was almost finished but then Alexei had knocked on the door and stopped it.”

The look on Daichi’s face can only be described as speechless, which he is not often. His mouth opens, eyes stormy as he pictures your flushed face. He remembers that glassy look your eyes adopt when you're close, far away in bliss. Your delicate palm touches his clean-shaven cheek, drawing his attention back to the restaurant, to you.

“How about we go home and finish what I started, huh?”

Daichi didn’t need to be told twice. Standing fluidly, everyone around him follows his movement. Your fur coat is draped over your shoulders, thick and warm, a crisp white. His hand is on the small of your back, leading you out of the restaurant with the haste of a man collecting a prize. The air is cold, snow shovelled aside as you climb into the car to feel heated lips pressing to your neck instantly. You laugh, locking your wrists behind his neck to capture his mouth with your own. Men are so easily convinced.

Part 2 - Tanaka

The frame rattles as Tanaka slams the door closed behind him. He tracks melting sludge onto the thin, rust-coloured welcome mat, the tip of his nose red with more than the kiss from the windchill. The heater of the cabin is turned on, the warmth a welcome refuge from the thick snow outside as he shrugs off his coat.

Tanaka doesn’t hide his thoughts and feelings. He’s the kind of guy that wears them on his sleeve, bares it all out there for everyone to see. When he’s angry, you can see the tips of his ears burn. When he’s thrilled, that shark-tooth grin spreads so wide across his face, his eyes close. And when he’s murderous, nothing and no one can stand in his way.

“Cyka blyat!” he shouts, punching the wall of his residence, missing the mirror by mere centimetres, his already bruised knuckles stinging with his rage. A slew of curse words tumbles from his lips, both from searing pain and soaring anger. The eyes on the back of his hands stare at him, judging.

Seeing Valentina out at dinner, looking so delectable, so sinful, Ryunoslav felt ravenous for just a taste of her skin. It was bad enough that he never got to feel her convulse on his tongue earlier, he had to watch her flirt with her husband. He knows the deal, that nothing can ever really happen between the two of them outside of sex, and if they were both to get caught, it would be his end. He understands, yet he can’t help his rising natural anger. The buzzing in his pants pocket pulls him from his internal struggle, and he relaxes his hands, feeling the half-moon indents in his palms hiss in relief.

“Da?" a pause, "I’m on my way.”

Daichi wants to see him; did they finish their ‘love-making’ so quickly? Tanaka catches his reflection in the mirror, massaging the centre of his furrowed brows to try dissipate some of his frustrations before grabbing his thick coat and making the five-minute trek to the main estate. He’s frozen to the bone by the time he arrives at the large mahogany doors, but his anger keeps his blood warm. He needs to be careful, to calm down.

***

The Boss is waiting for Tanaka in his oversized office, the door open ajar, letting a soft yellow light stream into the hallway. This one is different from where the interrogation took place that afternoon, yet it is decorated almost identically. A shiver runs down Ryunoslav’s neck as he remembers Valentina’s sumptuous taste, the supple skin of her thighs brushing against his jaw and the way her lips sighed his name. Fuck, he takes a deep breath, pacifying his licentious thoughts before rapping on the door with his knuckles. Daichi’s deep voice tells him to enter.

He sits there, behind the desk, the white shirt he wore to dinner wrinkled, half unbuttoned to show a burly chest. A gold chain with a coin and two wedding bands glints from the curled chest hair.

“Vodka?” Daichi asks, doe brown eyes glancing up, already pouring both him and his head of security a shot of the clear liquid.

“Spasiba,” Tanaka’s voice is a grumble, deep in his chest as he tries to warm his body but cool his temper.

The Bulldog leans back. They toast, downing the drink with a casual swallow. As per usual, Tanaka automatically refills the next round for the both of them, but it remains untouched. Instead, Daichi opens a ledger, fingers curling up the pages as he flips through the numbers and accounts.

“Sergei has told me we were underpaid last month.”

“Mm, I will talk with Yuuri to find out who.”

“Make sure you show them the repercussions.”

“Always.”

Tanaka cracks his knuckles, excited to teach yet another lesson in punctuality. Daichi eyes his most trusted brother, the way that cocky smirk appears at the thought of fists colliding with skin, but there’s something else underneath.

“Khazak, you’re angry,” Daichi concludes, reaching across the table for the vodka, motioning Ryunoslav to sit down across from him. The shorn-haired man shrugs, slinking into the leather seat, removing his black beenie to run his hand through the trimmed hair. He can’t lie to the Boss, but he can’t tell him the truth either.

“I am… frustrated.”

The pair cheers, the glasses clinking before thudding onto the leather ingrained into the top of the desk.

“Why?”

"Ha! Please, I do not know, Boss.”

Daichi lets out a hum, shifting forward in his chair so that the wheels creak beneath his weight.

“I think I know.”

Tanaka stays silent, keeping his stare level and curious with the Bulldog’s.

“You need a woman!” Daichi barks out, smacking the desk with a flat palm, laughing deeply so that it echoes in the quiet room and probably through the manor. Tanaka can’t help but join in with the infectious laughter, the vodka soothing his nerves, relaxing the tension in his jaw.

“You’re right. It’s been too long,” since I fucked your wife.

They pour another shot, the buzz of the first two beginning to hum pleasantly through their bodies.

“Next week I go to Georgia to see the business there. While I’m gone, bring a whore to your bed. You have my permission.”

“Thank you, Boss.” Tanaka says, his cock twitching at the thought of Valentina in his residence. She’s never been there longer than a few minutes, and never without Daichi in the ten years Ryunoslav has been working for the Sawamurov family, and the two he’s been fucking her. He can't help but fantasize about it.

They catch up in light-hearted talk, about the state of Russia and the business, that they don’t see her peer around the corner of the heavy door, black silk nightgown wrapped loosely around her frame to show the lace of lingerie beneath.

“Daichi, are you coming to bed?” Tanaka hears her say, Valentina’s voice caressing his sensitive ears, but it’s not for him. He turns around, both men shocked into sobriety when they see her leaning against the now open door. 

“Ah yes! Sorry, my love! We lost track of time.” Daichi says, pushing up from his seat. Tanaka swallows, watches as her gaze floats from her husband’s to his own. He can see the pale blue of new bruises around the column of her throat, where Daichi probably sucked into the skin. Tanaka can’t help his smirk. She always did like it rough, and it means he can leave his own over those later.

“Khazak,” she greets with a curt nod, fixing the dropped shoulder of the gown to make herself more modest. “Don’t keep him too late, okay?”

“Mrs. Sawamurova, as you wish.”

Daichi chuckles from behind the desk, walking around to clap Tanaka on the shoulder.

“I may be the Pakhan, but Gadyuka here always has the last say, huh? Good night, Ryunoslav. Don’t forget to talk to Yuuri. And don’t forget what I said you can do.”

“Da, spakoyne noche, Boss.”

With a two-finger wave, Daichi walks out of the room, his hand travelling to the small of Valentina’s back as he leads her back to the bedroom. Tanaka takes one final shot, pulling his hat low over his ears as he prepares to walk back to his house.

***

“He said what?” Nishinoya Yuuri exclaims, cackling inside Tanaka’s small living room. His shorter counterpart smacks the armrest of the chair, the sound against the leather cracking like a whip.

“I can entertain a whore this weekend.”

Yuuri can’t believe his ears, face red with laughter, the file of the business owner coming up with short change forgotten on his lap. His bleached bangs hang in his eyes and he pushes it up, wiping tears with a deep breath. 

Together, Ryunoslav and Yuuri make up the Elite Group within the Bashkortoskaya, Daichi’s most trusted men. Each one runs their own Brigade: Nishinoya the Support Group and, by default, oversees the entire Workforce, while Tanaka is head of Security and keeps everything running smoothly.

The Khazak’s sharp jaw pulses, cheeks red to resemble a heart as it beats in humility. He clenches and unclenches his jaw.

“In the years I’ve known you, you’ve never had a prostitute.”

"I've never needed one," Tanaka shrugs, stealing the manila folder to flip through the details. Simple enough. His men were already bringing the tinted black SUVs around for them to make a ‘house call’ to Ukai Keishin. He shrugs on his thick coat, the kind that’s easy to clean, and black leather gloves onto his hands, slipping knuckle dusters into his pocket. Just in case. He doubts he’ll need them. He waves Yuuri a goodbye as he hears the tyres crunch over the sleet of snow.

“Remember to pick up condoms while you’re out!” He hears his brother call out to him as the door closes and ice invades each inhale.

Tanaka grumbles under his breath, fiddling with the direction of the hot air coming through the car’s vents. Just what he needs is word getting around that he would be fucking someone while the Boss is gone. These kinds of things never stay quiet, and he knows it will reach Valentina’s ears within the day. He shivers to think how she will lash out at him if he actually invites one of Daichi’s prostitutes back to his bed. The girls at those establishments can’t even hold a candle to her beauty or skill.

Prostitution is a lucrative business and one of the main sources of income, other than drug smuggling and the many (legal and illegal) casinos and tech companies owned by the Sawamurov’s. Ukai's particular business—and why The Boss is so invested in it—is a front for a prostitution call-centre. According to performance, they should've made a profit for the month past. Usually, Tanaka wouldn't make an appearance personally, delegating the task to his experienced team members, who might even give the order to the security brigades that they run. However, he is glad to get out of the estate grounds and think of something other than Val’s voluptuous lips and the swell of her breasts from beneath that black lingerie last night.

***

The Sawamurov's reach controlled all of Bashkortostan, a republic within Russia nestled between the picturesque Ural mountain range and the Volga river. Tanaka watches as the trees surrounding the estate give way to highway and grassland before the small town of Belebey comes into view. It's all Daichi's, and in turn, all Val’s.

The town is quiet, the late morning sky a dark grey with clouds that make the winter more formidable. Tanaka wouldn't have it any other way. They pull up to the slightly rundown storefront, graffiti against the wall with crude swear words act as a greeting. He snorts, watching as the glossy black SUV's reflect in the windows as though looking into a parallel world. Inside he can see movement, a tall man in a white apron walking around the counter to open the door. Confident. 

"To what do I owe the pleasure?" Ukai shouts out, arms crossed over his chest to protect his fingers from the stinging cold. Tanaka doesn't answer, tucking his chin into his scarf as he observes the man. He's older, bleached blonde with honey eyes that seem more solid, hardened. On his forearms are scars, his flannel shirt sleeves rolled up to reveal a tattoo of a web with a downwards facing spider: recovered drug addict.

"We've come to collect," one of the lackeys says in his boss's place.

Ukai steps aside to let them in, sighing deeply, flicking a cigarette to the moist ground, and leading them to a back room where there's a round table with a few wooden chairs. Papers litter the room, boxes of unpacked stock are piled in a corner. The place is a shithole.

"Can I get you anything? Vodka, cigarette?"

"Sit, Ukai." Tanaka speaks, gesturing to the nearest chair, unbuttoning his coat to drop it onto the table, his beanie and scarf piling on top of it. "We're here for business."

Ukai collapses down, slouching casually as he stares at the leader of the men. Ryunoslav drags a chair in front of the debtor, spinning it on a single leg so that he leans against the backrest as he sits with his legs spread out on either side. A sliver of gold chain catches the fluorescent lighting under his simple suit shirt, matching the multiple piercings in Ukai's right ear.

"You did not pay the full amount of February."

"Correct."

"Why?"

"I couldn't."

The man's blunt lie is shocking to Tanaka, refreshing from the usual quivering imbeciles, and he feels the need to suppress a smile that threatens to reveal itself. Instead, he keeps his tone cynical.

"Was the month not profitable, Ukai? Men get lonely in February, their beds cold."

Ukai shrugs, smoothing out the wrinkles in his apron, eyeing the handsome shaved hair man with intrigue. Tanaka feels a ripple down his spine. "For the whores? Yes, it was profitable. But my business was not."

"So you used the money for the Bashkortoskaya to save your ass from bills?" Tanaka begins to laugh, his wide mouth swallowing the sky as his chin tilts up. He stares straight at the man once more, "you should've paid us first."

"Ah, but then I wouldn't have had the pleasure of your visit. I am touched an Avtoritet will come to see me personally. You are better looking than I thought you would be, younger."

Tanaka raises an eyebrow at the flirtatious comment, a very open individual. He sees some of his subordinates shift uncomfortably in his peripheral, unsure of how to proceed. He drums his fingers on the back of the chair, the beat steady like his heart.

"Flattery will get you nowhere, I'm not one of your kind."

"And what kind is that?"

"Gay."

Ukai chuckles, pulling a packet of cigarettes from his apron pocket, offering one to Ryunoslav who instead takes the full box, holding it up for someone to confiscate. He stands, walking to inspect the stacked boxes around the room. Ukai swallows; he knows not to push his luck too far.

"Are you going to kill me if I don't pay?"

"Hm, nyet, not yet. Are these fresh?" Tanaka holds up a dozen eggs, the green carton sickly. He doesn't wait for the reply, tearing it open and tossing one to the ground with a resounding crunch, the yolk bleeding into the tile grates.

"Listen, Ukai," splat, "you will pay the balance," splat, "by the end of this week," Tanaka walks closer with each drop of the egg until he's next to the grocery store owner. Ukai sits upright, a cool gaze on Tanaka's tattooed hands as they stroke the shell of the brown eggs. The crosses and circles are targets, his hands the weapons.  

"Or your head, will look like these eggs." Tanaka drops the entire carton on the ground, the bright yellow spilling out and pooling beneath Tanaka's black boots. "Vy ponimayete?"

"Da, understood."

"Good. I hope I will not need to see you again."

On his way out of the store, Tanaka picks up a box of condoms from the aisle.

Part 3 - Valentina

Friday cannot come fast enough... so that you can throttle your lover. 

The double-pane french doors to the balcony shine with frost, the sky beyond dark and unforgiving, much like the irritation boiling inside you. It’s the last night; Daichi leaves on the first flight to Georgia tomorrow morning to meet with the Vashadze, your father and owners of half the Casinos under your combined empire. Your marriage three years ago was the biggest news since the raid on the Uhaluba club in Prague, 1995. Together, your families control prositution, drug smuggling, money laundering, the list goes on. Behind the scenes, of course. 

Up front, Daichi is a wealthy investor of tech: Facebook, Tesla, oil companies in the Middle East and Serbia, whereas your father is a top Politician and Minister in Georgia, maintaining his position with dirt he’s collected on those with darker tastes and kinks in the underworld.

“Supply snakes with a meal, and you’ll have them all by the fangs,” your father regularly told you over dinners since you were thirteen, when he began to show you the truth behind his wealth, once your mother passed away.

It’s how you got your nickname. It was the first thing you said to Daichi, before he took you out, before he became The Boss . You were eighteen when you laid eyes upon that hulking mass of muscle. He asked how you could be so beautiful, and you parroted your father’s words. He knew from that moment on that you were dangerous, poisonous, and he had to have you.

When you were twenty-one, you met Daichi again, this time in an underground gambling soiree. You were the host, of course. The felt green betting mats stood out in stark contrast against the white dress code and the dark wooden tables. You wore black. Translucent red dice swirled between your fingers expertly before you rolled snake eyes.

“Bad luck,” Daichi commented over your shoulder, spiced wood and tobacco tickling your nose. You sipped a vodka martini with a twist. There was always a twist with you.

“It’ll be fine, I own the club,” you shrugged, cashing out with the chips you owed and strolling back to the bar where another drink awaited you. Even now, you could remember Tanaka Ryunoslav hovering behind Daichi, drinking in the sight of your curves, the red of your lipstick and the wit of your tongue. A lot less subtle then than now. 

If you closed your eyes, you could very easily conjure the tapping of his heels, the eager look in the Young Khazak’s eyes at being surrounded by some of the most powerful men in Eastern Europe. You could even taste the vodka on his tongue that you sucked down your throat in a supply room all those years ago.

Back then, that bout of casual sex meant nothing. You married Daichi four years later, when your paths crossed once more at twenty-five, the turf wars between neighbouring families becoming too much to bear for Eastern Europe. You were lucky Daichi was--is so exceedingly handsome. Interesting. Smart. Powerful. However, so is your father. And you never wanted to marry your father.

“Darling?” Daichi’s voice calls you out of your pacing when he walks into the room, the silk of your dressing gown swooping around your feet as you stand still. “Everything alright?”

“Da, sorry, you know I get nervous when you fly,” you lie quickly, easily, turning your back on him to close the curtain and shut out the irritation of outside, the faint golden glow of Tanaka’s cabin sealed away. Out of sight, out of mind.

“Mm, yes, I know. Relax a little. When I am back we have that gala. Is your dress finished?”

You give him a pointed glance, turning down the bedsheets and unravelling the delicate bow of the robe to climb under the covers with bare skin.

“Weeks ago, Daichi. You were at the final fitting.”

He nods as if he remembers, but you know his mind is elsewhere, much like your body would rather be.

“Are you coming to bed early tonight?”

For several days, weeks, months, Daichi has been sneaking into your bed too late in the evening. Or early in the morning. The business is doing fine, there’s no cause for him to spend some nights not even at home. Some part of you--a small, small part--misses his thick muscles wrapped around your body.

“Later, there is something I have to do first.”

You merely hum, settling yourself down and dimming the lamp beside the bed until the room bathes in a soft glow. With your eyes closed, you don’t see him leave, the door clicking shut. Instead, you picture red, your empty bed, and across the snow, a cocky smile letting a too thin, sallow-skinned blank face past their threshold. He will have to have a hooker, Daichi will ask him all about it. Motherfucker. You turn the light off.

***

The Bulldog kisses your forehead when he wakes, sleeping behind you for a total of an hour. You’d woken up slightly when he clambered into the bed, smelling freshly of his cologne from a recent shower, at three in the morning.

“I’ll be back soon,” he whispers into your ear, not staying to hear your ‘be safe’ in response, still mumbling from a fitful night’s sleep. 

However, you don’t drift off again, eyes suddenly open and staring into your nightstand where a cool glass of water rests. It’s still, silent and calm. You turn over to the right, seeing the empty space where Daichi’s body barely left a mark, his lamp still buzzing. It isn’t until you hear cars pull away in the driveway that you sit up, wiping the remnants of sleep delicately from your eyes to sigh. It’s going to be a long day.

Dumdumdum, three quick taps echo in the quiet, the door creaking open as a curious head peeks around the side. Ryunoslav smiles when he sees you perched in bed. His eyes drift from your face, down your neck and to your breasts, the skin pricking up under his sharp gaze. You could strike a match and it would erupt into flames.

“What are you doing here, Ryu?” you ask. It comes out more accusatory than you would’ve liked but he just grins, teeth ready to bite any jab you throw.

“I told you I’d come, didn’t I?”

For a raucous man, Tanaka moves stealthily across your floor, kicking off his boots before planting two large hands onto the edge of the mattress. You can feel it dip with his weight as he crawls, veiny forearms caging in your legs, trapping you. He sways side to side, spine rolling like a panther about to pounce. You kick his left hand out so he falls, crashing and rolling to the spot where Daichi laid with a laugh, peering up at you with fervent energy.

“His bed isn’t even cold yet.”

“Ha! He barely slept here, Val.”

“And you will?” Skepticism laces your words, the irritation of last night seeping into your thoughts once more. His smile finally drops.

“Nyet, of course not. You know that.” Tanaka twists around so that he’s cross-legged, facing you fully, eyes searching your own. “I’ll just fuck you.” You scoff.

His hands plant themselves on your thighs, the eyes tattooed on the back staring at the ceiling, observing the heavens. They travel gradually up to where the sheet lays scrunched around your waist, fingers pinching the edges.

“Give you more pleasure than he does before going back to my lonely bed. Without you.”

“It doesn’t sound like you’ll be lonely for much longer, Ryunoslav.”

Tanaka chuckles under his breath, shaking his head as he pulls the duvet down to unveil you before him. His chest rises and falls so fluidly with his deep breaths, a movement so calm, yet he freezes when his eyes rake over your luscious figure.

“How the Boss does not have you under lock and key astounds me.”

Your hand slaps across his face, a fire burning from your palm down to your groin.

“I will not be someone’s pet.”

Lust overcomes Tanaka’s pupils, his lips curling up in ecstasy at your stern tone, his cheek pounding along with his heart.

“No, you will not.”

Then, his mouth captures yours. 

Hot, hungry, the spring in his spine expands so that his chest presses against yours, jaws stretching up. Desperate hands clutch at your neck, the fold of your hips, anything to pull himself tight to your body, anchored to your skin and bed. It’s sinful, even whores refuse to do something so intimate. You feel that heavy tongue drag against your bottom lip, asking your permission to enter. You welcome it, savoring the taste of Ryu’s desire, his burning passion. His hands drift to tug at the firm muscle of your ass, hauling you to kneel over his lap, supporting and kneading it to a rhythm that you’ve come to know so well.

Your fingers clumsily unbutton his pants, slipping under the fabric to feel your undoing. Tanaka moans into your mouth, growing harder, fiercer in his touch with each stroke up the length of his cock. He wastes no time, patience not his strongest virtue. You detach from the kiss with a heavy sigh, forehead pressing to his as you melt over his fingers. Both your hands press into his shoulders, stabilising your vibrating body from how he rolls your clit between his fingers. He’s too clothed, not enough of his skin available for you to stroke and scratch and bite. You claw at the back of his long-sleeved shirt, he rips it off.

With the shirt discarded over his boots, Ryu’s warm hands wrap around your waist, tilting you back until you lay open for him. His pants come off next, flung haphazardly to the floor so that he kneels before you shamelessly, eyes raking down your naked body. By now, he’s committed every curve, every artwork on your skin to memory that he can draw you with his eyes closed. The peony tattoo at the base of your sternum a siren’s call for his mouth to taste. The heat of his body is a furnace, flames licking your skin as he kisses down your chest, inhaling your intoxicating scent.

“Why don’t I finish what I started, huh?” he parrots the words you whispered to Daichi a week ago. Your gut clenches, your cunt tightening to know he heard that. You almost want to beg him to devour you, but that’s not who you are. Your hand strokes over his shorn hair, his eyes closing as your nails rake against his scalp. Savagely, you squeeze his jaw, fingers pursing his lips, the viper tattooed near your wrist ready to strike.

“So snarky. I can think of more important uses for your tongue, Ryunoslav.”

He grins, the round of his cheeks tensing in your clutches before he turns his head to nibble at your thumb, sucking it down.

“As you wish, Valentina.”

Tanaka kisses down your stomach to the apex of your mound, squirming until he nestles between your outstretched legs and his arms wrap themselves under your thighs, an iron grip on your hips. You brace yourself to feel that vacuum, that eternally deep suction that clings onto your soul and merges it with his, but all you can feel are soft exhales. He stares up at you, an indiscernible look on his face.

“Ryu?” you come onto your elbows. The very sight of the man between your legs is enough to make you shiver. He plants a kiss to your thigh.

“You know I will do anything for us, for you.”

“I know.”

“Even fuck a whore once if it means I get to stay with you for just another more day.”

You grit your teeth, knowing it’s true, and although he shouldn’t be saying such intimate things—that you can never truly be together—it’s what you needed to hear. You remain silent, watching him as he lowers his mouth to your seeping skin, licking languidly to taste you on his entire tongue. It’s flat, wet, heavy, pressing into you so solidly you fall back down, eyes closing as you capsize. Tanaka demands whimpers, his name, with his touch. He’s insatiable, greedy to feel you come undone completely, this time with no interruption.

Two fingers test your waters, slipping between the waves of your folds while his tongue drags you under. You know his ocean-grey eyes never stop watching as you writhe under his ministrations. You can barely move, clenching around his skilled hand as though keeping him anchored in place. You want him, need him. The first pulse of your walls spurs him on, stirring the storm in your groin, until you can barely contain your moans for him. Your orgasm batters against the shores of your body, powerful waves washing over you and dissolving all your stress and irritation, leaving you gasping and heavy, weighted down and sluggish.

“Fuck, baby,” Tanaka swears against your skin, still pumping his fingers against sopping skin to feel how you contract around him. The stimulation almost has you in tears and you grab his wrist to pull him away, closer to your lips. You swallow down your tang, the kiss passionate yet lazy as he ruts against your tingling clit, hands wrapped around your head to almost cradle you against him.

“You were very loud,” he chides, but you know he loves it, the danger. “You are lucky no one is in the house tonight.”

“Do you want me to keep quiet, Ryu?” you moan into his mouth, biting his lip against a particularly rough thrust.

“Never,” he grins, sitting back so that he can observe your glassy look, you pout at the sudden chill. There’s a moment of protest, his body too far away, before your eyes roll back and you’re stretched out, overflowing with the feeling of him, your vision black.

Part 4 - Tanaka

Ryunoslav wishes he could lay behind Valentina eternally, watch as she wakes and stretches, but he knows he can’t. He unfurls his lithe chest from her back, and stands to dress before sneaking back to his cabin. The cold air nips at his cheeks, but it would take a snowstorm and him being naked to freeze over the warmth radiating from inside his chest. Under the cover of dark, even at 6:00 am, Tanaka makes it back without being seen, like he always does.

He winces as he shrugs off his coat and scarf, the scrapes on his back from her nails stinging beautifully. His thoughts drift: what she must think when she wakes up in the mornings to find the bed empty, either without him or Daichi, and whether he’ll ever see her under his own covers, laughing while sipping a coffee on a summer morning. Ryu shakes his head to absolve those thoughts, it’s dangerous to linger on dreams for too long.

The box of condoms on his dining table stand out like a sore thumb, and he shoves it into the closest drawer, the eyes on his hands giving him a mocking stare. ‘What would your mother say?’ it blinks at him, pulling his mouth into a scowl. Turning the kettle on, he pulls up Sergei’s number on his phone.

“Khazak, it’s early.” Sergei’s morning gruff is thick, coughing lightly as he clears his throat.

“Dobre utra, Sergei, sorry, I know.”

“What is it you need?” Tanaka can almost picture the cool gaze, the pinched brows beneath silver hair that the bookkeeper has on whenever speaking to the head of security.

“Ukai, has all been fixed?”

“Uka– Ryunoslav, could this not wait until a more reasonable hour? Yes, it’s resolved. The guy wired the remaining amount last night. God knows where he got it from but I don’t care.”

Tanaka opens his mouth to speak, but Sergei cuts him off.

“I swear, call me this early again and I’ll hang you from your ears.”

The Khazak laughs, wishing the old ‘friend’ a good day as he hangs up. That clears up most of Tanaka’s schedule, and he falls onto his bed, groaning when the whistle of the kettle rings loud in the room. It’s too similar to the alarm bells in his mind when he thinks about the call he has to make later.

***

Ryunoslav shivers, peeling off the used condom to tie a knot in it. It wasn’t too bad. With the prostitute's ass in the air, he could almost picture it was her. He watches as she pulls up stockings and a dress, her only layers beneath a thick coat and hat. The prostitute looks over her shoulder with her hand resting on the door, appreciating the view. Tanaka sits on the edge of the bed, naked and bored.

“This was fun. Call me anytime,” she purrs with a wink, pleasantly fucked, before leaving. He grumbles, falling backwards so that air whooshes past his ears as the mattress creaks under his body.

She’s going to kill me, he thinks, picturing Val’s face with the disapproving glare that always seems to rile him up. A part of him wonders if he went through with it purely to piss her off, make her mad with jealousy, just like he can be.

***

Tanaka must’ve dozed off because he wakes to the sound of his front door being pounded, the clock next to it showing quarter to midnight. He swears, scrambling to toss the condom he left on his thigh into the open basket bin and pull on the nearest pair of pants. He has just finished tying the drawstring when the door swings open and Valentina strides in, arms crossed in front of her chest, white flakes of snow on the Hermès scarf wrapped around her hair.

He’s frozen, a deer in headlights, silent at seeing her standing in his doorway, both beautiful and deadly. He watches as analytical eyes scan the single-roomed cabin, finally taking it all in. For some reason, he feels shy, a blush creeping up his neck. He has always wanted her in here, but now that she is, he feels like it’s not good enough.

Tanaka follows her gaze: sweeping from the small kitchen, to the two person table and chair, in the corner are the leather armrests and a coffee table. Directly by Val’s right is a mirror and coat hook, the wooden-heated walls sparsely decorated with a map of old USSR and new Russia, along with a single lily in a simple frame. He sees her stare past him, to the arch that separates his bedroom, analysing the unmade bed. Tendrils of cold sweep by him from the still-open door. She does not move a muscle.

Valentina opens her mouth as if to say something, then closes it, walking to the kitchen counter where a half-finished bottle of vodka sits. Tanaka’s door shuts with a click, and when he turns, she has already pulled out a shot glass. 

Has she been drinking? he thinks, rubbing the goosebumps up his arms, the callouses scraping some still-healing scabs. He gets his answer when she barely winces her swallow.

“Do you want to sit down?” Tanaka asks, approaching carefully, gesturing to the sofa; she’s a cornered viper. Val turnz, leaning against the marble top, coat still wrapped tightly around her body. Her lips purse, and he stills, knowing she’s either trying to put together a sentence or hold back uttering one. But Ryunoslav doesn’t know her to hold back often.

“Did you do it?” 

He didn’t expect the question to flow from her lips so calmly, hushed and smooth like an expert interrogator; the way he would speak. There’s no point in lying.

“Da,” Tanaka steps closer, reaching past Val’s head for a second shot glass. She makes no effort to hand him the bottle. “It’s just sex.” 

He almost recoils from the daggers in her stare, pupils shrinking into slits that can cut through him. I should not have said that, but if he lied, he wonders if she’d be just as furious. Valentina looks down and spots the discarded condom, sighing while twisting open the cap of the bottle to drink straight from the lip, past the point of using a glass.

“I thought of you.”

A faint flicker of relief, but then she laughs, curt and cold.

“I’m so flattered, Ryunoslav, thank you.”

He feels his heart tighten, forehead pounding, with more than guilt.

“Blyat, what the fuck else was I supposed to do?” he snorts, storm brewing in his eyes, fists clenching. His face is so close to hers, he can smell the alcohol on her breath. He can see her searching for answers within his own.

“I don’t know, but,” her eyes close, the small wrinkle between her brow dissolving with an inhale. The exhale has them open, blank, her lips in a neutral line. Somehow, this scares Ryunoslav even more. He feels his heart hammer beneath his ribs, either trying to escape or to jump into her palms. The bottle is no longer in them, but the belt of her coat, pulling it loose so that it unfurls from her chest. He see’s skin, a clavicle, ripe mounds of breasts. The flower tattoo peaks out from the shadow until it disappears and the top of underwear wraps around her waist. She’s not wearing the Family pendant. When the coat drops off her shoulders--the wool scrunching into a thick pile at her feet--he notices she is still wearing boots, but legs bare; she used the underground passage to get to his cabin.

“If you prefer to fuck a shlyukha, you just had to say so.” Valentina says, fingers trailing up the skin of her waist while keeping his gaze. Tanaka can’t respond, doesn’t want to, anything he says is fuel to her wildfire. “I can be a whore.”

She’s raging, the very air around her too thick for Tanaka to breathe easily, and when she takes a step forward, he imitates backward. He’s controlled by her until he collapses into his leather armchair and she towers over him, bare-breasted and deadly.

Valentina’s fingers tug at the knot of the scarf, slipping the silk through her fingers as she regards the man before her, twisting it into a tight coil until ready to spring, like her.

It’s those eyes, she realises. Stormy, grey, like a tumultuous ocean swallowing her body whole, ravaging and cleansing her all at once. She can’t stand to see them now. Tanaka doesn’t protest when she leans over him, unfurling the scarf to tie it around his head, blindfolding him. Ostensibly for control. She knows otherwise that his eyes will make her crumble down, dissolve into their depths.

Tanaka’s heart thumps, pressing against his ribcage furiously enough to shake his chest. Any argument cut off in his throat when he feels Valentina’s lips against it. His body begins to cover in a cold sweat, confused with the hurdling emotions inside: panic, guilt, anger, and underneath it all, arousal.

“Have you even showered yet,” she whispers against his skin, “or is this taste hers?” A hot tongue drags up the side of his neck until it touches the puff of his earlobe, teeth nipping. If Tanaka looks down past the tip of his nose, he can see her palms gripping the arms of the chair, the plush leather folding in. He can see the curve of her shoulder and the tail of the snake as she leans into him. And he can feel the warmth of her skin when she straddles him.

It’s not tight, her ass seated on the edge of his knees, but he feels heat anyway. It rolls off Valentina’s body in waves, washing over him so that he begins to pant. Nails rake up his chest, goosebumps pricking on his forearms which he keeps still, away from reaching out to wrap around her and bring their bodies together.

“Did she touch you like this?” Valentina’s hand wraps around his throat, the other drifting to the tent in Tanaka’s sweatpants. When she stops moving, he realises she expects a response.

“Nyet,” he grunts out, erection twitching beneath her palm, the vein in his neck swelling. 

A brisk exhale fans over his face, then he smells the peppercorn and vanilla of her skin as she lifts from his knees. She must be close, the static between his lips and her stomach electric. He bites his tongue to stop from tasting her skin. When she falls, her hand had shifted his erection from the loose constraints of his pants, free and standing to attention. There’s fire and rain, and Tanaka peers down to make out the black of Valentina’s underwear clinging to her slick folds, nestled against his groin. It provides slight relief, knowing she is aroused like him. 

She begins to roll her hips. On instinct, Tanaka shifts down into a slouch to bring her higher, to feel more friction. His fingers jump where they rest on the chair, fighting not to grab at her, palms sweating. For Valentina, this is easy. Men are so responsive, so easy to lead and dissuade, and fuck. They treat sex as though it is nothing.

It’s sex, Ryunoslav’s words echo in her hazy mind, her hands flying to his shoulders as though to bring her back to her actions. Focus on the movement, it tells her, and she grinds down onto him. She feels as he pants against her neck, her breasts moving to press against his chest so that he can feel all of her at once, reminded of what he missed. The jealousy in her heart pains her, knowing that it’s irrational to feel ownership over a man that is not truly her’s. But she feels it regardless. She wants him completely.

His neck is thick beneath her palm, veins beating steadily in time with the grinding of her hips. The line of her folds wrap around him, dragging up and down his length that when she looks down, she sees it weep. The tightening of his gut tells her even more and she grins almost wickedly.

“Does it feel good, Ryu?” she whispers against him, lips hovering teasingly above his own. Tanaka tries to close the gap. She’s near, yet so far away, unreachable in her anger.

“No, you don’t get to kiss me. Not when I’m your whore.”

He moans then, shamefully turned on by the hard edge of her voice and the soft skin wrapped around him, coaxing something out from within. 

“Val,” he utters her name under his breath, the fog in his mind not clearing as it builds higher, tighter. She can feel the storm brewing. His shoulders tense, forearms hovering as though-

“Do you want to touch me?” she bites at his ear, one of his most sensitive features. It takes Tanaka everything to hold back, his hips thrusting up desperately.

“Yes. God, yes.”

“What’s stopping you?”

Valentina watches as the gold, browns and pinks of her scarf wrinkle with his frown.

“You never said I could.”

She falters for a moment, taken aback by the worship and strain in his voice. This is why she covered his eyes, she never knew she had to gag him as well. Some of the ice in her heart begins to melt, dripping down her chest like the sweat on Ryunoslav’s forehead.

“Touch me.”

His hands are on her instantly. With her back under his calloused palms, he can feel every movement of her waist, her hips. He strokes up, her body memerised so thoroughly he can paint a replica of her in his mind. With the eyes tattooed on the back of his hands, he sees her. It was the last push he needed, the rain clouds in his mind bursting as he spills a storm over his abdomen, finding clarity. 

It’s wet, warm and cold simultaneously. He feels Valentina’s forehead fall to his shoulder, her spine shaking. There’s a sniff, the smallest of tears leaking into the dips of his muscled shoulders. With one hand, he presses her tightly, his ejaculation spreading messily between their bodies, the other rips the scarf from his eyes so he can drink in the sight of her, his nose nuzzled into her hair.

“Val...” he mumbles against her skin, fingers combing through the hair at her nape, lips finding contact with her neck, then temple. “Look at me, pazolvste.”

And when she does, the world stops. He tries to read the swirl of emotions in her eyes. Is it exhaustion? Arousal? Defeat? All three? Tanaka brushes sweaty strands from her neck, forehead, smoothing down the hair. Valentina glances at his lips, or her eyes drop, either way, with the next inhale, their lips meet.

Part 5 - Valentina

Tanaka tastes different. Tangy and bitter, the kind that makes you want to tear away, only to constantly come back for another sip, addicted. You’re sticky, the sweat from his chest and the spill of his seed spreading against your stomach, screaming at you to separate from him. Everything is telling you to stop.

But you can’t

And you never want to. His tongue swipes across the seam of your lips, and you happily oblige, too weary from the rollercoaster of emotions that had ripped through you to fight for dominance. Tanaka, however, doesn’t seem to mind, your tongues intertwining so seamlessly, you briefly wonder if you’ll ever separate them again.

He pulls apart to breathe, chest still heaving from his orgasm and your mind games. Fuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck, you realise what you’ve done, how full of blind rage and hurt you were. Tanaka registers the panic in your eyes, the way your mouth opens to say,

“I’m sorry.”

You’re suddenly smaller, eyes downcast to stare at his chest, tracing the outline of the Georgian cross tattooed over his heart, the eight point star on each shoulder beneath his collarbones, reminding you that you’re in a world of thieves. That you yourself are one, and you crossed a boundary tonight that you’ve never crossed before. In his residence. He lifts your chin with a steady finger, forcing you to stare into still, open waters.

“It’s okay.”

But it’s not, you’re not okay. Tanaka must’ve sensed the growing unease as you shift on his lap, knees still pressed tightly to his hips, his softened dick lazing against your groin.

“I would’ve stopped you if I didn’t want it,” his voice is a hushed whisper, washing over you.

“I should not have come here tonight.”

“I’m happy you did, Gadyuka.”

For some reason, you believe him, the tides in his eyes pulling you closer so that once again your lips melt into his and your heart drums in your throat. Ryunoslav unzips your boots, letting them drop unceremoniously to the floor. His hands find purchase beneath your rear, and he stands, lifting you so easily as he carries you through a small door and into the bathroom.

It smells like him: salty, humid, yet crisp, like cold mist when the seasons change. You reluctantly break apart when your feet touch the cool tile, and you look around while Ryu draws a bath. There’s no mirror over the sink--instead on the tiled wall opposite the shower--just a shelf with his electric razor, toothbrush and some creams. The thought that you’d like to shave his head flits across your mind, but you shake it out, turning to watch him fill a simple wooden bathtub with steaming water.

“Are you going to wash me like a child?” you ask, eyebrows raising to show your amusement. He chuckles, his eyes matching your teasing tone, the tension of before dissolving with the mist in the air.

“Nyet, unless you want me to,” he muses, eyes drifting across the splattered cotton against your skin. “You are dirty.”

You lick your teeth, taking in how he’s seated on the edge, sweatpants still haphazardly down his legs to show a hint of the tattoos and scars on the tops of his thighs, “so are you.”

He holds his arms out and you move to stand between his knees, warm hands trailing up your hamstrings, over the cups of your cheeks and peeling down your soiled black thong. You feel… calm, the rage and guilt subsiding to leave an empty stillness in its place, in your gut, where he rests his forehead and your fingers scrape his scalp.

You bathe first, Tanaka’s rough hands scraping away grime, before you switch and run your hands over his corded muscles. The moment is too intimate to speak, both of you barely even breathing as he wraps a towel around his waist and pulls a too long t-shirt over your head. It’s only when you’re out of the confines of the bathroom that he breaks the silence. 

“You’ll have to destroy the shirt when you leave,” Ryu observes, tugging at the shoulder seam so that the neckline centers on your body instead of dropping over one shoulder.

“Do you want me to leave?” you counter, crossing your arms over your chest, fingers drumming in a quick beat against your forearms.

“Never.”

Shrugging, you turn on your heel and stride to the messy bed, ignoring the way your stomach flips as it remembers who was the last woman to touch it--that it wasn’t you--and climb onto the mattress. For the first time, you see Tanaka completely taken by surprise. He’s close to asking you ‘why?’ but thinks against it, hurtling after you to pull you into his arms, against his chest.

This is unchartered waters, the bed a dinghy and in his room are endless possibilities. But that’s where it starts and ends. You drag your fingers lazily up his forearm, over a few scars, tracing the bouquet of lilies drawn in thick black lines that stand off his skin; prison tattoos seldom heal flat.

“What does this mean?” you stare up at him, curious as you’ve never had much time to talk with him before, to delve deeper past your lust for each other. Ryunoslav clears his throat.

“It’s for my home,” he mumbles, nose moving to your hair, his eyes clouding over as he watches your fingers. “And my mother.”

The way he explains the beauty of the wild lilies in his home village of Kazakhstan, the bouquet his mother would pluck and keep on their table, sends shivers down your spine. Why would he ever have run away? You learn he has a sister, Saeko, who left with him and fell into the life of the thieves before him, and instead, he went to prison.

In this little bubble, you feel inexplicably warm, cosy, like the world has fallen away. You tell him about your own mother, how her eyes were incredibly warm and the colour of amber, but she never smiled. About how you grew up in Georgia surrounded by powerful men and strived to be just as important one day. Ryunoslav smiled at that, kissing your wrist where the fangs of the snake bit into.

He tells you about the years he spent in and out of juvenile prison in Moscow, unfurling the duvet to explain that each cathedral dome tattooed upon his leg meant time served. He had four. The rose on his left bicep meant he turned 18 in prison.

“The Boss found me a month after,” he recalls, eyes far away, “I’m forever thankful. I was very sick from the tattoo and I would have died if he didn’t take me away.”

Daichi, a part of you whispers. With the thought of your husband, you tense up, shifting until you’re sitting with your hand pressed to Tanaka’s beating heart.

“Ryunoslav,” you call, looking past his head and into the grain of the wood. “What are we going to do?”

“Mm?”

Your eyes snap to his, a cold sweat tickling your spine. You’ve crossed lines tonight, and not by a little. You’ve run so far past it, you can’t even see it if you turn back.

“He’ll know.”

Tanaka straightens up too, attentive to your words but eyes calm with a lazy smile.

“He won’t.”

“He will. Ryunoslav, I can’t keep this a secret now.”

Beneath your palm, you can feel his heartbeat, slow, while your own pounds in your ears.

“You have to. He’ll kill us.”

You stay silent, mulling over the sincerity in Tanaka’s statement. He says it nonchalantly, like it’s the only fact that matters. You want to tell him that you love him. You don’t. Instead, you lay your head back to his chest to listen to that steady, strong drum beneath his ribs. After a few seconds, you inhale deeply.

“I think Daichi is having an affair.”

“I don’t want to talk about him.” Tanaka says instantly, arms wrapping so tightly around you, as if you’ll vanish if he can’t feel you.

“Ryu-”

“Valentina, please. God knows we never get to be alone like this.” That brash, harsh tone you’re used to finally edges it’s way back into his voice. It should scare you, instead you huddle closer to him while he continues. “Even if he’s having an affair, aren’t we doing the same? Let us just be in this moment.”

Tanaka tucks you beneath his chin, the heartbeat in his jaw syncing with yours against his chest. You murmur a ‘fine’, mind still reeling from the evening's events and the intoxication of his lips.

You’re not sure when you fell asleep, but you know he didn’t at all. Ryunoslav shakes you awake, whispering that you have to go, that Daichi gets back in the late afternoon. When the coat is wrapped around you and your fingers hover over the door, you look at him as he frowns at you.

“We should not see each other for a few days,” he states. Although his voice is calm, his chest vibrates with nerves. You know it’s the last thing he wants. You agree anyway, with a slight nod of your head.

***

NEXT CHAPTER

Thank you for reading.

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[stylinbreeze60]

Haikyuu: Undertow

He wouldn’t admit it, but perhaps playing volleyball on a cruise ship was a bad idea. The pulsing in Sugawara’s ankle reinforced that conclusion.

The cruise was Ukai’s idea, as relaxation for his hardworking team. Fat chance of relaxing when surrounded by Kageyama and Hinata, whose peculiar forms of cabin fever no doubt stemmed from volleyball withdrawals. It lasted until they’d haplessly chanced upon Yuuji Terushima aboard the vessel and discovered all the Johzenji starters were on a teambuilding retreat. One thing led to another, and the two teams made their way to the deck for a game.

And some time later, Daichi helped Suga hobble back to their shared accommodation on the ship.

Daichi hoisted Sugawara onto one of the adjacent beds.

“Thank you, my knight in shining armor,” Sugawara said teasingly with a smile. “Could you please bring me my phone?” Daichi rolled his eyes and left to get the device from the room where they’d been playing.

On deck, the skies were black. Daichi passed Terushima, still in his volleyball uniform in defiance of the chillingly moist air, gazing pensively at the impending storm.

Downstairs, Suga tried visualization to null the pain when there was a knock at the door.

“No need to knock,” Suga said, presuming it to be Daichi. Terushima, having gotten the room number from Daichi, blushed and opened the door up. For an introduction, he stuck out his tongue teasingly, tongue ring reflecting the ceiling light in the windowless room.

“You still alive in here?” Terushima joked.

“Huh? Oh, it’s you.” Sugawara said with a coy smile.

Terushima gulped. “Hey, so…I’m sorry—”

The whole room jerked violently. A metallic explosion reverberated through the seagoing vessel. Terushima’s head banged against the floor, and he passed out.

Continue reading here: AO3 ffnet (2,435 words)

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Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Major Character Death Relationships: Sugawara Koushi/Terushima Yuuji, Sugawara Koushi & Terushima Yuuji Characters: Sugawara Koushi, Terushima Yuuji, Sawamura Daichi Additional Tags: Boats and Ships, Trapped, Asphyxiation, can be read as platonic or romantic

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[good-rwbyaus]

| Of Caerbannog | mod lilac

Three rules to survive Beacon.

You don’t screw with Oobleck’s coffee.

You don’t leave a mess where Goodwitch can see it.

You don’t piss off Velvet Scarlatina.  

Characters: Velvet Scarlatina, Ruby Rose, Cardin Winchester, Fox Alistair, Yatsuhashi Daichi.

Content Warning: Profanity

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

Crash! Thud!

“All of you think it’s funny insulting her?! You’re going to pay with your fucking body!” 

Boom!

“Argh! Dove, save Sky! 

“Screw! Off!”

Thud. Crunch.

“Heh heh. Cardin, you never thought this day would come. Now it’s you, me, and my human weapon! You’re mine, bitch!”

---

Fifteen minutes earlier:

“So your team’s around a lot because you’re on probation?” Ruby asked in disbelief.

“Yeaaahhh...I lost my temper a tiny bit on the last mission,” Velvet said with an awkward smile, scratching her cheek.

“You slapped the SDC’s representative through a wall,” Fox deadpanned.

“Wha-” Ruby's eyes widened in surprise.

“Hey! He was asking for it!”

“And that diplomatic mission from Mistral. When you said you were going to make that Hunter’s appearance look like what he’s like on the inside,” Fox grinned, watching Velvet redden, “I didn’t think you would literally attempt to pretzel him into having his head up his as-”

“All ancient history!” Velvet exclaimed and looked nervously at her new friend whose expression approached dawning horror.

“That was only two months ago,” the tall Daichi said, eyes closed in meditation. Velvet glared at her unhelpful team.

“How...how does that even work?” Ruby asked with morbid curiosity.

“Bend him head over heels, start stomping,” Fox cheekily said, “Ignore the creaking spine and screams of terror. Velvet’s an expe-”

“I’ve been good lately! That Winchester guy has been bullying me for close to a month, and I've controlled my temper per-fect-ly.” Velvet harumphed and stuck her tongue out before realizing the gesture had no meaning to her blind teammate.

Yet somehow Fox stuck his tongue out back.

“That isn’t the issue. Your issue is when someone starts insultin-” Daichi began before being interrupted.

“Ugh. Can you all please shut up? Listening to a bunch of dogs bark is getting annoying.” spoke an unwelcome voice. Cardin sat leaning on his mace, the rest of team CRDL watching on.

“Uhh, sorry,” Velvet apologized, bowing her head down.

“Velvet, don’t apologize to a guy who can only spew shit from his mouth.” Fox growled out.

“Really? I thought he was doing a handstand,” Daichi said calmly, still in meditation.

“Does it look like I can tell?” Fox fake-grumbled, hand waving past his blank eyes, “People with their heads up their asses all sound the same.”

“Then just treat their words like farts. Besides, it’s not like you have to clean up after him,” Daichi said in monotone.

“True, I guess the master did have the foresight to raise a bunch of dogs to eat his crap." Fox sighed and ignored the silently fuming ‘dogs’, “Daichi, what do I have to do to become as wise as you?”

“100 push-ups. 100 sit-ups. 100 squats. 10 kilometer run. Every single day,” Daichi sagely answered.

“That... that doesn’t make sense at all!” Fox said with an affronted face.  

Velvet couldn’t help but let out a stifled guffaw. Ruby didn’t bother with appearance and just laughed outright.  

Cardin meanwhile was doing a good impression of a lobster, getting redder and redder with suppressed anger yet not able to find the words to retort back.

“Tch. Just garbage. As expected from a team led by a brainless twat,” Cardin finally retorted.

“...”

Daichi and Fox turned their attention to a suddenly still Velvet.

“Velvet...”

“Don’t...”

“What?! I’m not mad at all,” Velvet smiled baring her teeth in a grin, “See. I’m perfectly in contr-”

“Alright, who wants to volunteer for the next matc-?” Goodwitch announced.

Two hands rose to the air, but one was slightly faster.

“I do! Me versus team CRDL!” Velvet exclaimed.

Goodwitch glanced over at the smiling second-year before tentatively nodding her head. Pyrrha could only put down her hand in disappointment. Velvet meanwhile hopped from the observation area to the arena floor with team CRDL following in her wake.

“Daichi?”

“I’m calling Coco on my Scroll right now.”

“Uhhh, why do you two look so serious?” Ruby asked in trepidation.

---

“Don’t worry. We’ll go easy on you,” Sky taunted as team CRDL drew their weapons.

“Yeah, we’ll leave enough of you so your stupid leader can see what a bad investment you are,” Cardin added with fake kindness, having noticed the chink in the other girl’s composure.

“...”

“What. Your teammates were so talkative earlier. Getting cold feet now? Your leade-” Dove laughed before his voice was suddenly muffled by a hand palming his head.

Boom!

“Fuck!” Velvet cursed as she grounded Dove’s head into the crater she created, eyes red like blood and Aura building like a tumultuous storm. "You really think I’m scared?! If I don’t beat your eggs out of you, I feel like I’ll be disappointing you lot!”

With that said, a rabbit-eared Faunus began wielding her human weapon against the rest of team CRDL.

---

“Wait, isn’t that my footwor-” Ruby asked in surprise as Velvet dashed to grab Dove’s head.

“Copycat Semblance,” Daichi said, “Ugh. Coco’s not answering.”

“What exactly is going on - oooh ouch.” Ruby winced as she watched Velvet briefly turn Cardin into a human shield before suplexing him straight into a wall.

“Velvet’s slow to anger normally,” Fox rubbed the back of his head, “But she has a button. And if you push that button, we get to see the Murder Bunny in action for a bit. 

“Wait... Murder Bunny? That’s Velvet?!” Ruby exclaimed, recalling the nickname she heard some time ago in the school grapevine. A violent girl with proclivities for cruel and unusual attacks.  

“The one and only. Yeah, she’s not answering,” Fox said before turning his attention back to the arena. “Huh, I wonder who’ll last longer. Sky Lark the human weapon or Cardin’s mace.” 

-----

The Present:

“Put Mister Lark down, Miss Scarletina. His Aura is already in the red!” Professor Goodwitch warned.

With reluctance, Velvet tossed her human weapon aside like a piece of garbage. The Faunus girl cracked her knuckles and approached a terrified, now disarmed Cardin. 

“Just you and me now. I’m going to enjoy thi-”

Stepping back at the sheer violence radiating from the girl, Cardin opened his mouth to speak.

“I surren-” 

A slap sent Cardin crashing into a wall.

---

Fox shook his head.

“It’s over.”

“Well, she did improve her temper a bit,” Daichi replied.

“There’s an improvement?” Ruby asked incredulously.

“Yes. She listened to Professor Goodwitch!” Daichi said dumbfounded. “She wouldn’t have done it before. I think she’ll probably beat Cardin into the red and then stop.”

“Thank god. We’ll be able to take missions. Though,” Fox turned his head back to the battlefield, “if we have to wait till he gets in the red, we might have to wait a while for this battle to be over.”

---

Straddling Cardin’s chest, Velvet continued delivering slaps in alternation to Cardin’s swollen face.

“Why are you an utter dick?!”

Slap.

“Who let you pull on my ears?!”

Slap.

“Who let you spy on the girl’s locker room?!“

“I never did tha-!”

Slap.

“You dare talk back?!”

Slap.

“Who let you-”

Slap.

“Talk!”

Slap.

“Back!” 

[tkpuke]

best bros tanaka and noya for the dynamic ask akdjakdndnc

DYNAMIC TICKLE HEADCANONS MEME !

Nishinoya & Tanaka

1. Who has the cutest tickle laugh?

Drumroll please..!

Nishinoya. Surprised? Yeah, didn’t think so. His laugh is full on cackles, but make it very high pitched. One time Daichi entered the gym while Nishinoya was laughing up a storm and said “is there a 10 year old in here?”

2. What are their tickle spots?

Noya’s ribs are killer. But what am I saying? Every spot you can imagine are killer to Noya, but god does his ribs really get him squirming.

Tanaka’s knees would send him into hysterics in less than 2 seconds. Oh, you want to go test that out? Prepare to get kneed in the face.

3. Who is ticklish in unusual places and where would that be?

If you stroke Tanaka’s knuckles in a gentle pattern you’d send him into a giggle fit. Solely gentle tickles, nothing else. He can’t help it, he knows it’s a weird spot !

4. Who gets cheer-up tickles?

The minute Noya is seen with a frown, Tanaka makes sure to change that as fast as possible. Tanaka won’t allow any sad Noya’s, sorry! Only happy and energetic ones, so sometimes you gotta fix that with scribbles on his stomach.

5. Do either of them try to hide their ticklishness?

Maybe Tanaka at first, but Noya honestly doesn’t care if people finds out or not. He would purposely let others know he’s ticklish by joining in on tickle fights or casually asking for tickles whenever he needs a warm up boost.

Tanaka would be quick to deny it, but when you give him a few more test pokes he’ll break. “alright alriihight! Jeez, I’m ticklish!”

6. Who takes advantage of the other one getting their arms stuck while taking off their shirt?

Can I say both of them? I’m gonna say both of them. I mean c’mon, it’s a perfect chance! You know this! How could they pass up a perfect opportunity like that?

7. How did they discover each other’s ticklishness?

I’m pretty sure it’s when BOTH of them got involved in tickle fights with the team. In fights like these, you tickle whoever is closest and in reach. They so happen to be right next to each other, shared a competitive glare, then pounced.

8. Who can’t handle tickle bites/raspberries?

Noya finds raspberries fun and silly, so he won’t mind receiving them at all. Yes, he can’t handle it. The dude would flail violently and screech, but they’re still fun to him.

9. Who has to be tickle-forced out of bed in the morning?

“You’re still sleeping? Oi, stop being lazy and get up already!”

Cue Tanaka giving Noya’s hip a squeeze, then you see Noya zooming out of the room to go get breakfast all bright and calm.

Does that answer your question for you? :)

10. Who initiates tickle fights?

GIVE A N! GIVE ME A O! GIVE ME A Y! GIVE ME A A!

what does that spell..!?

Noya! All he gotta do is tackle somebody and take it from there.

11. Who gives up in tickle fights?

They both hate to admit that they had enough, they need the sensation to stop, that it tickles so bad, but if it means to fight until you are able to yell victory? Then so be it.

12. Who is in danger of getting hurt when attacking the other?

Tanaka definitely had some scratches here and there when giving Nishinoya a few teasing pokes. Of course they’re all accidents, but Tanaka has got to think about restraining Noya’s arms next time whenever the idea pops in mind.

13. Who always provokes the other into tickling them and how?

Noya would deadass march up saying “Can you tickle me for a few seconds? I need this for a warmup!”

Yeah, okay, warmup he says?? That’s fine but how do you ask for tickles so,,,,calmly!? Tanaka, no wait, actually EVERYBODY doesn’t get it at all, but they are more than happy to agree so they can hear Noya’s high pitch cackles filling up the gym.

[aboutdamntimeme]

You Look Good

Daichi x Reader

Volleyball practice unexpectedly ended half an hour early that day because of news of a violent typhoon hitting Miyagi, prompting all school club activites to end early and sending students back home. That interesting 1st year oddball combo was pretty upset about it - as observed from Daichi having to physically throw them out of the gym- which was pretty hilarious to witness. Ever since that pair came to Karasuno, the atmosphere in the gym had begun to suddenly transform, the spark of passion and ambition returning and rekindling the spirits of the team. You could especially see it in the way Daichi seemed to work himself a lot harder than usual now so it was great to see him take a small break, even if it was just a half an hour.

You walked back home with him, like you usually did whenever you decided to stay back and wait for practice to end, walking leisurely hand in hand. That is, before the rain began to pour uncontrollably.

‘Shit.’ You heard Daichi mutter as he begins to run, tightening his grip on your hand and dragging you along with him. ‘My house’s much closer!’ You hear him tell over the crescendo of rain pelting down over the both of you. ‘Let’s go there! We won’t be able to make it to your place before the storm gets worse!’ You yell an affirmation towards him and stop by a modest house with the kanji ‘Sawamura’ spelled out in front adjuscent to the entryway. Of course, you’ve been to his house before - you and Daichi have been inseparable ever since your first year at Karasuno - but it never failed to get your heart beating a little faster ever since you made the switch from friend to girlfriend.

By the time the both of you were through the door, and under the shelter of his warm house, you realise exactly how wet you were. You saw how completely drenched he was, hair flattened cutely on his forehead and clothes soaked through clinging to the dips and curves of is toned body, probably not too far from how you looked like as well (minus the looking incredibly good). He smiles at you before telling you to ‘stay right here’ and getting you a towel.

You followed him up the stairs towards his room where he rummages through this closet. ‘Here take this.’ Daichi says as he hands you a large white T-shirt of his which you gratefully accept. ‘Thanks’ you smile up at him ‘you change here, I��ll change in the bathroom. I’ll be right back’ you say and stride into the restroom to peal off your cold, wet cloths only to put on the huge fluffly T-shirt. It stopped mid-thigh, appropriately keeping your modesty, and smelled distinctly like Daichi: lemons, hint of mint and a lingering scent of sweet sweat.

As you walk back into his bedroom, he takes a double take at you and grins, a slight blush dusting his cheeks at the sight of you looking adorable in his clothes. A warmth blooms in the pit of your stomach the travels to the tips of your toes. He walks towards you, slowly, before placing his hands on the dip of your waist. You physically gulp at how large and warm they are, his grip tightening lightly as he leans over your ear and whispers ‘you look good.’

I hope you liked this one folks! It was a ton of fun writing :)

[oatsn-honey]

cornflowers and caramel cubes

chapter one - aches and anxiety

masterlist

ao3

summary: Kageyama was always observant of his boyfriend, small and beautiful, vibrant and loud. Drinking in each feature, every word that fell from his lips, he could never get his fill. He was utterly enamored. And yet, how could he have missed something as blatantly obvious as this?

Or:Hinata gets extremely ill -- it’s appendicitis.

notes: i'm back writing fics i'm not supposed to beeeeeee help haikyuu and kagehina is absorbing my life-force and commanding me to create content this was a little hurt/comfort idea (when is it not hurt/comfort with me) that just popped in my head! pls enjoy!! <333 thank u sm for reading!

btw, just some warnings!! this does involve vomiting and vomiting blood, as well as other mentions of illness. there are hints to anxiety, but purely situational anxiety!

He looked beautiful that day, Kageyama thought. But, he looked beautiful every day. That didn’t stop his eyes from sneaking glances at him -- his milk skin; tangerine-pink lips, soft and supple (he would know, after all); those freckles that were lovelier than the stars painted in the sky; and, of course, that smile that never ceased to make his heart skip a beat (or ten) and immediately send heat straight to the tips of his ears.

“Tobio?” His voice, the sound like the morning sun, broke the setter from the stupor he had unknowingly found himself in. (Though, if he were to be honest, this was becoming a daily occurrence.) “You good?” The boy in front of him waved a small hand -- everything about him was small, except for maybe his heart. And eyes. And tenacity. And . . . -- in his face. Wait, when had he started staring?

“Uh, yeah. All good, Hinata.” He could feel his cheeks burning, the back of his neck feeling uncomfortably warm. The sun beating down at them wasn’t helpful in the slightest. Briefly, Kageyama found himself groaning internally -- When did I become so sappy? It’s gross. He’s gross. But cute.

He slumped against the brick wall, poking absently at the lunch placed in his lap. With a sigh, he switched his chopsticks for a box of milk. His brows pressed together, and he willed the warmth from his face away, as he sucked through the straw. His eyes slid over to Hinata, his partner aimlessly gazing at his food. Oddly, a murmur of distress fell from his lips, and he abruptly closed the lid to his bento, pushing it aside.

Kageyama curiously curled his lips to the side. Cocking an eyebrow, he prodded at his boyfriend, “Are you good?” Cornflower met caramel as they shared a look. A small hum from Hinata told him that he was alright, but Kageyama believed otherwise. That look in his eyes; it was pleading.

Practice was more-or-less a bust. At least, that’s what thought was at the forefront of the small decoy’s mind. Hunched over, a sharp and nagging pain coursing through his abdomen, Hinata counted the minutes until practice ended. 98, to be exact.

It didn’t help that Coach Ukai clearly had a personal vendetta against them (at least in the redhead’s mind), each player in nearly the same position as Hinata -- if not, their hands were atop their heads and heaving chests faced the ceiling. As the others regained their vigor enough to joke and laugh, though, Hinata’s breaths continued to come in short, laborious gasps that left his innards feeling as though they were contorting and twisting about within his body.

A single shout is an executive order for Hinata’s head. “12 laps around the gym, sprint!” A simple task, really. But with his intestines so jumbled, breaths simple puffs of air, and head pounding against his eyes, blood pumping in his ears, Hinata didn’t know if he could take even a single step more. He starts anyway, mindful to blend in with the others -- don’t fall behind; don’t push ahead. Just inhale-exhale-inhale-exhale through that knife stabbing at your stomach.

Next, receives. He supposed it went fine, considering he already tended to do poorly in that area. He swallowed harshly when a sardonic laugh made its way to his ear; “It’s almost like it’s the beginning of the year again!” He didn’t question who said it, only focused on not collapsing on the hardwood floor. His stomach should be a gymnast, he thought, with all of its tumbles and flips. An involuntary shiver ran through him as a tsunami of pain made its way to shore.

“5 minutes!” A chorus of relieved sighs and exclamations echoed in the gym, and the boys made their way towards the bench. Unsteadily, Hinata followed suit, his legs quivering and body tense. It’ll pass with a swig of water, he told himself. But when his trembling hands brought the water bottle up to his mouth, the opening knocking lightly against his teeth, he came to regret that thought.

It was all too much.

The shouts of Nishinoya and Tanaka.

The choir of heavy breathing and the squeal of shoes against the polished floor.

The sweat dripping down his back, the migraine threatening at his temples.

That awful twisting in his gut.

Hinata found himself on the floor propped on his hands and knees, his entire body burning and aching. The whole team had encircled him. His arms shook, but he was soon held protectively in someone’s arms. He grasped at their shirt, a wet sob broke past his lips, and he turned his face into them as strong hands rubbed circles into his quivering back. Kageyama.

He was covered in his own vomit. The floor was. The equipment was. Everything.

A hand, slightly cold to the touch, tenderly pushed his soaked bangs back from his forehead. As the black dots, piercing at his eyes, fade away, he sees the blurry face of Suga, gentle brows furrowed and his face pale with worry. “Hey,” he cooed, voice as lilting and soothing as ever. As the ringing in his ears quieted, but never truly disappeared, he could hear someone on the phone. His eyes flitted around the room anxiously, and his heart rate spiked.

“Hey, now, Hinata, look at me, okay?” That hand, still holding back his sweaty hair, gently scraped at his scalp, and he surrendered to the touch. “What’s wrong?” So the interrogation began.

A pained groan was as suitable a response as Sugawara had expected “Understandable,” Daichi’s booming voice, disquieted, pitched in from behind the setter. “Here,” he whispered, handing something to Suga that Hinata couldn’t make out.  He twitched nervously in Kageyama’s -- whom he was relying completely on to sit up -- arms. “Don’t worry,” Sugawara reassured, his presence relaxing Hinata’s frantic pulse, “I’m just going to check your temperature.”

His senses returned to him slowly, but he could feel the thermometer underneath his tongue as the thermometer read his temperature. His eyes, dazed and misty-eyed, settled on Suga, his soft features quelling his panic. A small beep-beep-beep reached his ears, and the thermometer was taken back. His eyes shifted up to his captain, who hissed as he read the temperature. “38.5.” A groan rang throughout the gym and only then did Hinata fully comprehend just how close everyone was. It was suddenly too hot, too stuffy, too close.

“Okay, kiddo. Give him some space, guys!” Daichi ordered. Had he said that last bit out loud? He didn’t care, Hinata decided, simply needing to end the agony riddling his stomach. His exhale was trembling as he weakly pressed closer to Kageyama.

“Is it your stomach?” the raven-haired setter spoke softly in his ear. He nodded minutely, hands snaking around his own midsection. He hissed as Kageyama adjusted his grip on his feverish body, the movement jostling his tender pains far too greatly. He couldn’t help the whimper from escaping, his eyes screwed shut, as Kageyama rose to his feet, carrying him with the grace that could only belong to a setter towards the bench.

Hinata could feel hot tears stinging his eyes, angry with himself (for his weakness, he supposed), ashamed, and unable to stop the small whines of pain that slipped past his parted lips. He fell asleep to Kageyama’s soft whispers of, “It’s okay, Shou, you’re alright. I’m here.”

30 minutes later, he awoke to the stabbing in his gut, but he was somehow in his bed, blankets tossed about from his tossing. Downstairs, he could hear, and smell, his mother cooking. But the thought of food simply made him blanch.

As he shuffled into the gym Hinata steeled himself for the inevitable confrontation with his team; their demands as to why he was there. Their eyes turned to him and he was already prepared to shrug off their questions and answer half-heartedly. But what he had expected to be simple turned out to be more difficult than the arduous bike ride across the mountains (he would be sure to keep to himself the fact that he had to take several breaks, and had once found himself collapsed on the side of the road, trying to keep from spewing on the asphalt).

Hinata received a massive chewing-out from the entire team, Suga’s own reprimands surprisingly harsh. Seated on the bench, he observed the other boys’ practice, watching but not entirely seeing, gaze distant and hazy. There were painful goosebumps tickling at his skin and a shiver coursed through his back.

Rubbing his tense neck, the muscles knotted and hot, Kageyama glanced over at his boyfriend, doubled over at the bench. A curse was hissed through gnashed teeth as he made his way over to him in long, agitated strides.

Knocking the redhead’s shoulder lightly with his clenched fist, the setter asked pointedly, “Hey, shrimp, when was the last time you ate?” Doe-eyes sluggishly turned towards him, and Kageyama found himself gulping back in apprehension, the heat leaving his body. He gnawed at his lip tentatively. “Hey,” he pressed.

A storm of violent tremors ran through Hinata’s small body, quivering and haggard, leaving behind the damage of a natural disaster. As he answers, “I think I had a banana yesterday?” Kageyama’s calculating eyes are glued to the decoy’s face -- the lines and contours gaunt, the dark circles (he had been kept up by pain all night) beneath those normally vibrant eyes unsettling.

The taller boy cursed, color draining from his face, “Hinata!” His face scrunched in what he wished was fury -- Kageyama wanted to be angry, he really did. He knew how to deal with anger. But this concern, all-consuming and disastrous, left his heart in disarray and his mind jumbled. He could feel his nails digging into his palms, carving small crescents into the skin.

“I swear, I’m not hungry!” Hinata defended, his voice weak and breaking. His hands, clumsy and shaking, reached out to grab at Kageyama’s sleeve -- what for, he didn’t know. He worried at the inside of his lip, a drop of frigid sweat trickling down his back. He leaned forward, just missing Kageyama’s arm as the player turned away.

Shouting, his voice reverberated throughout the room, the drills slowing so each teenager could peek at the situation, “Coach!” He threw on his jacket, quickly zipping it up to his chest. “I’m taking Hinata home!” In a huff, he switches his shoes with mastered precision and throws his bag over his broad shoulder.

“W-wha-! No, Kageyama, you can’t do that!” Hinata stammered, his arms crossing over his body as he firmly planted himself on the bench. “I have scho-” A sputtering gasp pushed its way through his lips. That pain that he had nearly become accustomed to had morphed into something loathsomely sharper; something localized. His stomach, set ablaze, convulsed excruciatingly, and his hand shot up to clamp over his mouth. The corners of his vision tunneled inwards, that obnoxious, drowning ringing returning to consume all sound.

“Shou?” When had Kageyama kneeled in front of him? His hand, comforting with its strength, yet tenderness, was braced upon his knee. The team stole glances from behind the setter, frozen mid-motion. They inch closer and closer still.

A look at his boyfriend, lip caught between his teeth, worry etched into that already pressed face, led Hinata to unsteadily clamber to his feet. “I-I’m fi-fine,” he jumbled out, swaying and lurching, his face green. He slipped, plummeting into Kageyama’s arms, safe, a haven. “S-sorry.” He quaked, willing the wave to pass as Kageyama eased him back down onto the metal bench.

His hand, sturdy and reassuring, rubbed shapes into his knee. “It’s okay, Shouyou, take your time.” Even with his arms wrapped constrictingly around his turning stomach, the redhead peeked through his curly bangs -- which were needing a trim -- to stare lovingly at his boyfriend, his powder blue eyes like the dusk sky, swirling with stars. “But,” Kageyama hesitated a moment to nibble at his bottom lip, “You really should get home and try to rest, you know.”

“R-right.”

Suddenly, a weight settles on Tobio’s shoulder -- Takeda’s voice filtered into their little bubble, “I’ll take him home, Kageyama.” The setter whirled around to look up at his teacher, a set of keys jangled in his extended hand. He smiled gently, “You should stay and practice instead, okay?”

Despite his better-intuition asking-- no, begging-- him to say otherwise, he sputtered out, “O-Okay. Thanks.” His eyes, wavering and uncertain, flicked to Hinata’s. The apprehension and panic he sensed made every fiber of his body scream, “Stay with him!”

But, 5 minutes later, Hinata was being guided from the gym, Takeda’s hand braced on his elbow, and Kageyama was twirling a ball in his hands, his teammates calling for sets.

“Are you sure you’ll be alright alone? Do you need me to walk you in?” Takeda broached gently, shifting the vehicle into park. He unlocked the car and turned to gaze at Hinata, slumped against the cold window, moving to rest his bent arm on the center console.

Twitching uncomfortably, the redhead clutched onto the small handle, pushing the car door ajar. “Mmhmm, I’ll be okay,” he laughed weakly, the look in his eyes entirely contradictory. As his feet hit the pavement of his driveway he stifled the urge to cry out, trapping the sound behind his teeth. When he turned around to retrieve his school bag, an attempt at a smile, which appeared closer to a pained grimace, lined his features. “Thank you.”

Hinata didn’t care to announce his entrance as he dragged himself into the house, bothering only to slip his shoes off while entering. His bags clattered to the floor, and he couldn’t bring himself to worry whether he had disturbed the others in the house. His vision faded as he trudged up the stairs, his knuckles bone-white as he gripped the stair-rail.

He crawled into his bed, clad into a soft shirt Tobio had left at his house, the smell and reminder of him helping to calm the churning and biting of his stomach. It was nice, but it never quite substituted for the real thing. He settled into his covers, burrowing underneath their warmth, and faded into a fitful sleep, arms snaking around his abdomen.

He didn’t wake up for several hours.

Later that evening, in the Karasuno gym, Kageyama wrung his hands, slick with sweat, nervously. “He’ll be okay,” He heard Sugawara call from behind him, his tone consoling. But, the first-year couldn’t help but feel apprehensive about the whole situation. Shouyou had honestly looked horrendous. And he was so scared, Kageyama could tell.

Attempting to shake the thoughts out of his head, the setter rolled his shoulders and took a swig from his uncapped water. It was stale and room temperature -- unsatisfying. He set it down again, screwing the lid on again. Toying with his lip, he watched as the other players stretched and joked, but couldn’t bring himself to join. He just wanted to see Hinata.

An obnoxious song blasted throughout the gym suddenly, snapping Kageyama from his stupor. Gasping, he frantically lunged for his bag, digging for his cell. It was Hinata’s ringtone -- his favorite song. A shiver ran up Kageyama’s spine when Nishinoya and Tanaka creeped over his shoulder, lurking. His hand clamped around the small device, vibrating and singing still. He slid his finger across the screen frantically, “Hello?”

He took a moment to worry about how rushed and jumbled his words were, breathless and too-eager. But all thoughts were fully erased when a sound was carried through the line.

“Tobio,” A heart wrenching sob echoed through Kageyama’s head as his eyes widened and his stomach dropped. “Tobio, help. I-” Shrill, choked cries cut him off, filling all of the vacant space created by Kageyama’s silence.

He bristled at the sounds, and the team took immediate notice, practice halting in its entirety. Many joined Tanaka and Nishinoya, all encircling Kageyama as he crouched on the floor, his breath spiking in anxiety. He swallowed. “Shou, what’s wrong? Shou?”

He only briefly thought about how he hardly used nicknames around the rest of his team.

Through wails and frenzied huffs of air Kageyama heard, “To-Tobio, please, my stomach--I-” He was interrupted again by his own wails.

Kageyama hissed a curse through his teeth, and each and every person present knew what it meant -- the situation was bad. No questions arose as he moved towards his bags and began slipping his jacket over his sweat-soaked practice jersey. “I’ll be there soon, Shouyou; just hang on for me.”

The other was nearly suffocating on his breaths, the agonized gasps sending spikes through Kageyama’s chest and launching his mind into a spiraling panic of what-ifs. The redhead on the other end, muffled by something, managed to answer yet, “H-hurry, please, Tobio.”

“Hinata,” his tone hardened: firm, terribly distressed, and endeared all at the same time, “Listen, I need you to breathe.” He was close to hyperventilation. “Breathe,” he reiterated, “In, out, in, out.” He ignored the alarmed looks he received, like spears thrust into his back. The unsteady breaths, still shuttering with each inhale, slowed, thank Kageyama’s stars.

Takeda is standing just where Kageyama had prayed he would be: by the door with keys clutched in his trembling hands. Never before had Kageyama been so thankful for his teacher’s talents for observing -- he knew he needed to get there quickly.

“I’m gonna stay on the line, okay, Shou?” The words tumbled from his lips as he stepped from the gym and towards Takeda’s vehicle, each stride long and rushed. “Talk to me, and breathe. Can you stand? There’s medicine in your cabinet.” He knew because Hinata had gotten a fairly nasty headache the other day, and Tobio was fortunate enough to find himself in the role of personal nurse. He would’ve taken care of him anyway, though.

“N-no… I-I,” Another whine resonated in his ears, the noise muddled -- a definite no. He only resisted the urge to bark vulgar obscenities for the sake of his ailing boyfriend and teacher as he clambered into the car.

“Just... Just hang on, Shouyou,” he murmured, mostly to calm his own hectically pulsing heart. He flashed a look towards Takeda, eyes swimming with tears, and the teacher grit his teeth, pressing his foot firmer onto the pedal.

At some-point during their frenzied drive, the entire event a blur and yet lasting a million years to Kageyama, the connection had been lost between the call. He cursed the mountains and cell towers, fully knowing that it made no difference what he thought or what situation was occuring.

When they finally pull into Hinata’s drive-through, Kageyama itching to launch from the car, the setter flung his door open and barreled into the house (he praised whatever deity had been so blessed as to tempt Hinata to slip him an extra key).

“Shou!” he bellowed, storming into the domestic home, unfit for the chaos raging through him. “Shou!” He teared through each room, careless for the state they were left in.

The whimpers filtering from upstairs queued him, and immediately he was bounding up the staircase, each step an insignificant obstacle as he pummeled through. Barging into the dark room, Kageyama took not a single breath before he dove for the small crumpled figure on the unmade bed.

“Hey, hey.” He kneeled, his hands instinctively flying to run through Hinata’s curly locks, untamely and wet with sweat. “I’m here now.”

His lips, vacant of all color, trembled. Fat tears rolled down his ghastly cheeks, path skewed as he curled in on his side, arms wrapped protectively, and yet tentatively, around his midsection, his hands pale and cold. “T-Tobi-” he tried, only for another torrential wave of pain to flow through him.

The panic wedging itself into Kageyama’s mind, he rushed out, “Hey, talk to me Hinata.” But as the boy before him blanched, green tinting his pallor, his heart sank to his feet.

“B-bathroo-” There wasn’t enough time for him to finish -- it seemed there never was -- before a harsh hiccup ripped itself from his throat, his hand slapping over his own mouth. Without thinking, and with brilliant speed, Kageyama scooped him into his arms, body feeling unnervingly small and fragile, he surged towards the restroom down the hall.

By the time they had crossed the threshold, it was far too late -- it had already begun.

It was all over Kageyama’s shirt, Hinata’s pants, his lap, his entire body.

However, it continued as Hinata scrambled towards the toilet, throwing himself over it, retching over and over and over again. Futilely, Kageyama took to rubbing his partner’s back, convulsing with each heave, and smoothing the sweaty bangs away from Hinata’s burning forehead.

At the time, Kageyama had thought the noises from over the phone were the most wretched things ever conceived, but as he was forced to listen to the unbearable gags he wished to go back. These were sobs stopped only by the terrible choking that came with the upheaval of one’s own stomach contents. He clenched his eyes closed, sick to his own stomach.

Only after Hinata had finally finished, panting breaths raw from innumerable rounds of dry-heaving, did Kageyama finally take notice. He stared, pupils shrunk, at Hinata, slumped limply against his chest.

Those lips -- stained red.

The toilet brimming with blood swirled bile.

Their clothes soaked with a deep crimson.

This was bad.

big thank u to @Tmalasia on the izuocha temple server for editing this!! ilysm! pls go check out mal's stuff, it's amazing!! <3

so i actually finished this last night but i couldn't post it cuz i only had my school laptop and um when i went to ao3,,, it turned out that i was flagged and reported to my school board for,,,,,, umm, y'know. and now i am terrified for my life.

anywho!! second chapter of this is in the planning stage, so pls stay tuned!!! i rlly hope u enjoyed this first part, hopefully it wasn't too OOC and jarring aha,,,

also, i have *another* kagehina fic that i'm planning rn that should just be a short one-shot, only maybe 2K, so expect that soon!!

now,,,,!! just a word about the crisis happening rn (if u don't care or think this could trigger you, pls skip!) with all of the chaos happening rn, i'd like to just advice everyone to stay safe and calm -- pls practice good hygiene and do all you can to protect yourself (do elbow bumps instead of high fives, cough into ur elbows, wash ur hands frequently, disinfect surfaces, etc.) without going to excess. that's what's making everyone freak out, so do your best to know your own situation and stay rational! i'm sending good thoughts to everyone and their health rn, pls stay safe and healthy!! <333

thank you for reading!!! much love~! <3

[ao3feed-daisuga]

You're Gonna be the Death of Me

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/2RVU8Ji

by socksaregoodshit

A violent knocking sound infiltrated the lighthouse and filled Daichi with dread, what? For a moment he was sure he’d been hearing things, all was quiet. But then it came again, unrelenting and Daichi made a break for the staircase.

Down the spiral staircase he went, dashing to the lower floor of the lighthouse.

Who the fuck would be out in this storm?

Perhaps there was a wreck?

He unlocked the deadbolt on the door, swinging the heavy metal open and freezing in his tracks.

No way.

No way.

Daichi’s blood froze in his veins, turning to a cold, heavy lead in his body and dragging him down. His eyes were blown wide, mouth agape.

How…

Words: 4490, Chapters: 1/3, Language: English

Fandoms: Haikyuu!!

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Categories: M/M

Characters: Sawamura Daichi, Sugawara Koushi, Azumane Asahi, Kiyoko Shimizu, Nishinoya Yuu

Relationships: Sawamura Daichi/Sugawara Koushi

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Daichi is a lighthouse keeper, Suga is a sea witch, Past Suicide Attempt, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Don't Let The Tags Scare You, it's only in a flashback once, Smut, Smut in the first chapter because I'm a ho, bottom!Daichi, Bad Weather, Weather Jargon, I bought a book just to research lighthouses, Do I regret it?, no

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/2RVU8Ji

[thatishogwash]

What Lies in the Past

KuroDai 2019

May 7th, Day 2: Immortality/Reincarnation

AO3

Kuroo wakes with a start, his surroundings unfamiliar and pain in his body throbbing in time with his quickened heartbeat.  His legs don’t want to support him as he tries to struggle to his feet, momentarily surprised that he was in his four legged form.  Memories flickered through his mind.  There had been so much pain and blind panic, the hunters who had caught him clearly had done that before.  They had cut off his tail, his center of power before plunging a blade into his chest.

Dying had been hard but living through it had been excruciatingly painful as he came back to himself only to relive the experience once more.

Two lives taken just like that, Kuroo hadn’t even had time to scream as he died once more knowing he was only going to awake to be killed again and again.  His power taken from him by greedy humans until he could no longer live again.

But Kuroo had always been clever and he wasn’t about to let them do as they wished.  He had fought back, had to use his mind considering his body and power were practically useless at that time.  Shifting from one form to another had drained him of everything he had but he still managed to dart off into the dark forest.

And then?  Kuroo couldn’t answer.  He certainly wasn’t dead or dying, though his body was protesting any and all movements.  There was a tight bandage wrapped around his furry torso, right where the hunters had plunged their blade in and twisted, tearing his heart open to make sure he would truly die.  His split tail was nothing but two nubs, both physical and magical ones still needed time to grow properly.  His body would heal extremely slow until then.

The hut Kuroo found himself in was small, he could see every corner of it from his vantage by the blazing fire.  The room was filled with the aroma of cooking fish and Kuroo eyed the sticks eagerly.  He was also wrapped in a soft blanket on top of a bed made of hay, piled with worn blankets.

The door to the hut opened and Kuroo huddled further into the blanket, felt the fur all along his back raise.  The pain wasn’t forgotten, merely pushed aside to deal with the more pressing problem.  Kuroo was almost completely helpless, unable to summon even an ounce of power to be able to shift back into a human form that would still be weak but stronger than the small cat he was currently.

“You’re awake.”  Kuroo struggled with the words for a moment.  The language was familiar but the dialect so different than what he had been used to.  He had travelled away from the cities, hoping it would be safer for him that way.  He had been wrong.  The man continued about his business, clearly not expecting a response as he dropped a couple logs by the fireplace before turning over the fish.  He continued to speak, voice a low timber that somehow made Kuroo’s shoulders loosen.

Kuroo worried it was some kind of coercion magic at first but he tossed that thought aside quickly.  He felt no power, not even a hint of green magic in the man's body.  It still didn’t explain why Kuroo felt himself relaxing.  He didn’t trust humans and even if this one didn’t have any magic within him he was still broad shouldered and rough looking.  In Kuroo’s current state he was completely vulnerable.

Perhaps the man was an idiot.  Kuroo could deal with that.  For who saw an injured cat with a split tail and took them into their home instead of immediately killing them for what they were?  The man most likely just thought he was a simple cat who had been attacked by some other animal.  Kuroo could play the part of harmless pet if it meant giving him a safe place to heal and recuperate.  It would sting his dignity but afterwards he could easily kill the stupid man before hunting down those who had thought him easy prey.

The man shared his fish with Kuroo as confirmed his own plans to himself.  For his kindness this human would die swiftly.  The others wouldn’t be so lucky.

Time passed slowly and the man, Sawamura Daichi, proved himself to be just as simple-minded as Kuroo had assumed he was.  He was a farmer, working a sizable plot behind his hut.  He was a good fisherman too, though a poor excuse for a hunter.  He was too soft hearted to kill even the critters who fed from his crops.  It seemed there was a small village nearby, countless people came to see Sawamura and take advantage of his stupidity.  They took his crops, beginning and bemoaning about their own bad fortune.  They had him complete tasks they were more than capable of doing themselves, but Sawamura was strong and young and an idiot so he helped them without question.  He even seemed content to do so, as if they weren’t asking too much from him and giving him nothing in return.

Kuroo detested humans, always had.  It wasn’t enough that they were cruel to the things they didn’t understand like Kuroo’s own kind but they showed that same cruelty, that same thoughtlessness towards each other.  The few good ones, and they were truly a rare breed, were always taken advantage of.  They died poor and forgotten or lived long enough to become as nasty as those who used them.

One day Sawamura stumbled into the hut, a cloth darkly stained was wrapped around his hand that he cradled close to his chest.  An older man walked behind Sawamura, brow deeply furrowed.  Kuroo resisted the urge to skitter into a dark corner, sudden movement would only draw attention to himself.

Kuroo still had a difficult time with the dialect differences, he hadn’t tried very hard to understand all the things Sawamura told him.  He only caught the general tone of the conversation.  Sawamura apologizing profusely even as he swayed on his feet, the older man looked frustrated.  He cut Sawamura off and stormed out of the hut.

Sawamura leaned against the wall before sliding down, his breathing was coming out in short pain filled gasps.  His hand was shaking as he unwound the cloth, revealing a deep cut that was still bleeding profusely.

It was a perfect example of why Kuroo looked down on humans.  Sawamura had gone to help his neighbor, who had come over at the crack of dawn and demanded Sawamura assist him even though Sawamura had plenty of work on his own farm to do.  Now he was injured and the neighbor was only concerned with his unfinished work.

Kuroo could move more freely now, though the wound through his torso was still a long way from fully healed.  He leaned against Sawamura’s ankle because it seemed like a thing a cat might do.  Sawamura’s usually sun kissed skin had an unhealthy ashy tone to it and his eyes were glazed over with pain.

“Sorry,” Sawamura apologized again, dark brown eyes looking down at Kuroo.  He said more, something about food as if that was what Kuroo wanted.

Sawamura carefully bound his injured hand before feeding the both of them.  Kuroo expected Sawamura to sleep after but instead he pushed himself to his feet and went to work on his crops until the sun dipped below the horizon.  He came in looking worse than when he had left, the bandage wrapped around his hand was dripping blood.  Sawamura fell into bed without making his last meal of the day, which had no happened in the time that Kuroo had been there.  He fell into a fitful sleep and Kuroo watched from beside the bed.

Kuroo had regained some power back but he still had a long journey ahead of him to full recovery.  Staying in the small hut, being fed regularly and not having to fend for himself out in the forest while worrying about hunters helped in that recovery.  Healing magic was beyond Kuroo’s abilities, otherwise he would have healed himself to begin with but he could smell the infection taking place in Sawamura’s hand.

The human was already shivering violently, sweating profusely as he tried to curl up into the smallest ball he could make.  Left untreated as it was there was a fair chance that Sawamura would die, that the small hut would be taken away from Kuroo.

Still, Sawamura was young and hardy.  He would most likely fight off the infection if he put some ointment on the wound the next day.  It mattered very little to Kuroo whether the human was injured or not, just how it affected Kuroo’s own recovery process.  He would not use the little magic he had managed to gather to heal an infection caused by the humans own stupidity.

For several days Kuroo watched as Sawamura’s health steadily declined.  He could feel his own frustration rising.  Humans were so pathetically weak as to be killed off by something so simple.  Sawamura had visited the village healer but only came back empty handed with a deep frown etched into his face.  Sawamura had completely redone the healers roof only a month prior and she couldn’t give him some salve for his hand to fight the infection?

Sawamura continued to work his farm, coming back to the small hut dripping sweat and passing out before he had even eaten or undressed.  The one day Sawamura did not come back.  Kuroo watched the sun disappear over the horizon, night quickly swallowing the farm that was surrounded on all sides by forest.

Kuroo padded out on soft feet, leaving the hut for the first time in what felt like a lifetime but was only two months since he had arrived.  His torso ached with each step but he no longer minded the constant pain.  It kept his plan for revenge fresh in his mind but in order to see that plan through he needed his little human farmer to survive the night so Kuroo could recuperate faster.

If Kuroo’s tails had been fully grown once more they would be flicking angrily behind him as he sat near Sawamura’s collapsed form.  Kuroo could leave the human there to die, he had been planning to kill Sawamura after he was fully healed anyways.  Kuroo was healed enough that he could survive out in the forest, night held no problems for a creature such as himself.

Things were simpler with Sawamura alive.  Kuroo had a warm place to sleep, he was fed several times a day and nothing was required of him.  Sawamura never tried to do something as foolish as pick Kuroo up, he only pet Kuroo when he came close enough to allow the human to do so, and he even let Kuroo take up a portion of the bed while they slept at night.

It would be inconvenient, Kuroo thought as he shifted into his two legged form, for Sawamura to die now.  It was an odd sensation, to be in his human-seeming form once again.  He stretched out the little aches and pains that came with shifting when he was weak and after having stayed in his cat form for so long.  Kuroo dragged Sawamura back to the hut by his ankles, not taking care one way or another at any additional harm he was causing.  Sawamura brought it upon himself, he was just lucky that he fell unconscious so close to the hut or Kuroo would most likely have just left him there.

Kuroo left Sawamura by the door before kneeling down to unwrap his damaged hand.  His nose wrinkled in disgust as the smell of rot and infection hit him once more.  The skin of his hand looked horrendous.  Sawamura had tried several herbs, even tried taking a heated blade to it but nothing had helped.  It would most likely never heal correctly but Kuroo reminded himself that it didn’t matter.  He just needed Sawamura to live long enough so Kuroo could heal in relative safety, then the man would die like so many others of his foolish kind.

Removing the infection took more time and effort than Kuroo had initially thought.  He had no other reference point, no past experience to draw from so it was all guess work.  He could feel the small well of magic he had been gathering drain almost completely by the time he was done.  Sawamura had whimpered and shivered through the whole thing.

Kuroo rewrapped the hand with a clean bandage, only because he did not want all his work to go to waste by allow another infection to set in.  He tossed a blanket over Sawamura’s body but left him where he laid on the floor before collapsing into the bed himself.  He deserved the bed after all he had done.

Kuroo slept solidly through the night, only waking when the front door opened.  He rolled his head to peer across the hut as Sawamura strode in.  He was in clean clothing that was sticking to his slightly damp skin, in his hand a basket that Kuroo could smell fish from.  Sawamura’s eyes locked on Kuroos and he smiled before making his way over to start a fire to cook the fish.

It was when Kuroo started to stretch that he realized he had made a crucial mistake.  He switched forms without truly thinking about it before backing himself as far away from Sawamura as he could get.  Yet Sawamura only spared a quick glance at him before taking the fish out of the basket.  He must have already cut and cleaned them outside for he simply skewered them before sticking them into the growing fire.

Kuroo’s heart thundered in his chest making the wound in his torso throb with each frantic beat.  But as it had the first time Kuroo had met Sawamura, his lack of reaction calmed Kuroo even as he thought of a way out, planned his escape.  Sawamura still looked ill, he had yet to regain his coloring and he carefully cradled his injured hand close to his chest.  His movements were a bit sluggish, his eyes unfocusing before he visibly shook himself to regain control.  Even so, Kuroo was in a much weaker state after he had used his saved powers to pull out the infection from the human.  He was vulnerable once more, left at the mercy of this human who must not have been as simple minded as Kuroo had assumed he was.

Kuroo settled on leaving after they were done eating.  Sawamura would leave once again to see to his crops and Kuroo could sneak out without being spotted.  Living in the forest would be difficult but not impossible, Kuroo could gather strength and then hunt down those who had hunted them.

That was how it transpired for many days after revealing himself to be more than a simple cat.  Kuroo always found an excuse not to leave, there was a fierce storm raging outside one night and the next Kuroo wasn’t feel well, even though everyone knew Yokai could not catch illnesses the same way humans could.  It never seemed a good time to leave and after a while Kuroo admitted there wasn’t much reason to.

Sawamura fought off the last dredges of his self brought upon sickness, his hand was healing slowly and he often times reopened the wound seeing to his own land or helping the selfish villagers who gave nothing in return.  Kuroo’s power returned steadily, the ache of his wound leaving nothing but a thin silvery scar right above his heart.

Kuroo still couldn’t work out the reason behind Sawamura’s seemingly selfless actions.  He never asked for anything from anyone, even Kuroo who took up Sawamura’s bed and ate his food.  He seemed perfectly content with his day to day life, seeing to his own crops and assisting anyone that came to him for help.  It was unnatural and made Kuroo highly suspicious.  

Was Sawamura touched in the head?  Perhaps that was why he acted as he did, he was that simple-minded.  Why else would the human allow a known yokai to stay in his home?  What other reason would Sawamura put his own personal needs behind everyone else's even though it was quite obvious they only cared about what Sawamura could do for them and little else.  It was the only explanation that Kuroo could understand and he had no problem taking advantage of a simple minded fool.

Kuroo was only staying for his own comfort and it would only be a short while more until he was fully healed and could finally seek his revenge.  There was no other reason than that.

[haikyuulovercompany]

So like I have such a weak spot for Daichi. Can you do like a cute date or movie night or just cuddling with him? He deserves so much love and I think he would be so loving.

He does deserve so much loveeee. Daichi is boyfriend materail all the way. 

AN: this takes place in college. 

---

You wiggled your feet excitedly as Daichi put two more bowls on the coffee table in front of you. A terrible storm was falling outside, the drops of water hitting the windows merciless as the trees swayed fighting the violent rushes of air.

You were sitting on the couch waiting for Daichi to come back to you, so you both could properly cuddle the night away with a good movie, when a thunder fell illuminating the sky for a brief second and capturing the attention of both of you, then the roaring sound of the explosion follow through making every glass rumble.

“What a storm,” you mumbled still looking at the closed window.  

“Yeah. And it won’t stop any time soon.”

“Good thing we’re here already.”

You heard him agreeing with you before he let himself fall right beside you on the couch. “Here both of us are warm.” He then threw an arm around you, and pulled you to him. You smiled warmly and nuzzled your nose a little against his neck and returned to the television. Without further interruption, Daichi hit play to the movie.

Both of you soon fell into the spell of the suspense movie you were watching, cuddling a bit closer and pulling the blanket higher. It was right at the persecution scene when another thunder fell and suddenly all the power was out burring the whole place into a deep darkness. You squealed and hugged him tighter. You felt the soft laugh he let out at your reaction, his whole chest grumbling against your ear. “Now we won’t know who was the kidnapper,” you said disappointed.

“I bet it was the brother.”

“Maybe, but there also was the other guy. The one with the beard.”

“Right. Maybe he was, too.”

You fell silent without making a movie. You sighed. “Now what?”

“Well,” Daichi began. He pressed you against him using both his arms and lifted you just enough for him to raised his legs up to the couch and lay there. “We can have a short nap while the light comes back.”

You pulled the blanket from under him, and proceeded to cover both of you after you laid on top of him. “What if doesn’t come back till tomorrow?”

“Then we slept on the couch.”

You chuckled and gave a small kiss on his chin. From the darkness, you could slightly see the corners of his mouth lifting. You pushed yourself a bit higher, and gave him a small peck on the lips. “But then you will wake up sore.”

“I can take it,” he declared, rubbing your back with both hands.

You rested your head on his chest and yawned. “Well, this was your idea.” You could use some sleep and there was no better place than beside him, anyway.

---

Thanks for the request! I hope you liked it!

[jadehqknb]

Haikyuu Father’s Day Headcanons

I woke up feeling domestic today so in honor of Father’s Day I put together some random headcanons for some of the Haikyuu boys. I hope you enjoy them and happy Father’s Day to all the dads out there!

Karasuno

Daichi has been teased for being the “dad’ of his group for years so it’s no surprise he takes to fatherhood officially like a fish to water. He is the king of shoulder rides and tickle fights.

Sugawara is the best at bedtime stories, often coming up with “multi-chapter” renditions he continues one night after the other. It’s his ploy to get the kids to bed. “Well, if you want to know what happens to Marxa and Meddy, listen to your mother and get ready for bed.” Works. Every. Time.

Asahi cried when his daughter - the first born - came into the world. He couldn’t help it, she was just so tiny and perfect and a piece of you and him that he was overwhelmed. He was a bit afraid to hold her at first but once that sweet bundle was nestled in his arms it was over for him; he didn’t know he could love two people with an equal level of devotion in such different ways.

Tanaka loves all that being a dad entails. He’s there for his kids first bike ride, roller skate fall, getting stuck in a tree and needing daddy to save them. He chases away monsters from under the bed or in the closet and is always the first to kiss a boo boo and make it feel better. He’s their hero.

Nishinoya’s energy is able to keep up with his brood - four kids - rather well. He loves “tagfest” the most, running through the park as his kids squeal with glee and “daddy, catch me” sounding over the fields.

Ennoshita documents every little bit of his children’s lives that he can, for posterity (and a little practice). But he makes sure to set the camera down and actually be in the moment with them, frequently caught off guard when he’s editing later to find his wife sneakily grabbed the camera and got some scenes with him as the main star.

Kinoshita is the best breakfast maker and loves doing it with his kids. They make a mess of the kitchen but the end results are usually delicious. They horse around a bit during the cleaning and it’s a bit loud but the job gets done.

Narita enjoys reading with his kids. They’ll pile on his lap either in bed or on the couch and he’ll pop open the book of the day, reading aloud and doing voices and sound effects much to his children’s delight.

Kageyama wasn’t sure at first if he wanted children, afraid he wouldn’t be suited for the roll of “dad”. But once he does have them he does well. Unsurprisingly, when they’re old enough, he’s the first to encourage them to try out volleyball but if they don’t want to, he doesn’t love them any less. He just tries to understand whatever they are in to.

Hinata is another energy filled dad, able to play for hours with his kids without seeming to break a sweat. He’s frequently seen with his “little crows” at official matches, swelling with pride whenever he hears squeals of encouragement whenever he scores.

Tsukishima tried to be firm in regards to keeping his kid out of his and his wife’s bedroom; that is their sanctuary. But when his little girl came crying during a loud and violent storm, he simply lifted her up, kissed her cheek, laid her between himself and her mother and snuggled away her fears.

Yamaguchi frequently plans playdates for his kids and those of his former teammates, usually on Sunday mornings or afternoons when most of - if not all - of them are available to get together. Occasionally they’ll go to an amusement park or zoo or some place similar but most of the time the dates consist of the dads chatting over simple sandwiches while their children run about a park and play together.

Ukai wasn’t sure he wanted kids since taking care of his “little rascals” was already so exhausting but eventually he decides he does want to and when he does he’s never lacking for willing babysitters, all of “his boys” from that first year of him coaching offering their help to raise his twin boys. 

Aobajosai

Oikawa loves taking his two little twin girls shopping. Buying them cute, matching outfits just makes his day. They have way too many, but that doesn’t stop him from doing it. When they get older, they’re more resistant to it but will make sure to go at least once a year - on Father’s Day - and let their dad pick something for them.

Iwaizumi enjoys cooking and his Father’s Day tradition with his kids is finding a traditional dish - either from their country or another - and trying it out together. Whether it comes out right or they like it or not, it’s the experience of cooking together that they love. And if it doesn’t come out right, they just order take out.

Matsukawa frequently tortures his children when they are older with typical dad jokes, especially around their significant others when they start dating.

Hanamaki likes to do family outings / experiences with his kids on Father’s Day rather than have them buy him stuff he doesn’t really need. One year, when they were in middle school, he planned a volunteer day at a local shelter. At the end of the day he said, “Now that you have some of an idea of what it takes to take care of a dog, do you still want one?” When they all agree they did he told them to work together to pick one to take home.

Yahaba spends time with his kids doing art projects. They want to color? He’ll color with them. Paint? It’ll be outside with drop cloth and smocks but sure, why not? Sidewalk chalk and hopscotch? He’s there. Watching his kids be creative is one of his greatest joys.

Watari’s kids love to snuggle with him. They’ll crawl in his lap to watch a movie or beg him to lay with them during nap time when he’s home.

Kindaichi is rather competitive so he has to watch himself whenever he plays games with his kids not to get too into it. He won’t just let them win, though. They have to learn the agony of defeat, even in Mario Kart.

Kunimi - because of his dislike for loud, energetic beings - struggled through his kids toddler and young childhood years. He was there for them but it was a tough go. He does exceptionally well during the latter school years frequently being a source of help for them during homework time.

Kyotani is - unsurprisingly - fiercely protective of his kids. He can be a bit harsh with them but his attitude has mellowed out and they know above all else that he loves them. God help the boy who tries to date his daughter.

Nekoma

Kuroo is also fond of the dad jokes or science puns and frequently uses them to diffuse arguments with his kids, either between each other or with him.

Kenma - shockingly - loves playing video games with his kids. His proudest moment was when his son asked for his own PSP for his birthday.

Yamamoto, when they are old enough, teaches his daughters self defense to protect themselves from the numerous boys he just knows will be after them. They roll their eyes but do as told, teasing him with tidbits uncle Kuroo and Yaku told them about his own high school days. This only encourages him to increase the training, must to their chagrin.

Kai is the party planner for his kids’ birthday parties, taking whatever theme they want that year to the extreme and creating a wonderful experience for their guests and themselves.

Yaku loves baking with his kids. He’s always finding new recipes to try and they laugh their way through techniques they don’t understand, learning as they go and eating the fruits of their labor. After clean up, they go for a run or bike ride together to “burn off the sugar” before crashing for a nap.

Inuoka does finger puppet shows for his kids. He lets them make the characters out of arts and craft supplies then uses a stage box he built himself to put on productions for them. Sometimes they write the stories together and sometimes he makes it up for them to simply enjoy.

Lev is a master of hide and seek and his kids frequently challenge him in it. When his youngest managed to hide for over an hour it prompted him to put trackers on them, linked to their mother’s cell phone so he can’t cheat.

Other Team Favorites

Bokuto gives the best “horsey” rides, willing to get down on all fours and properly run about and buck, his children squealing with joy as they ride. It usually ends with Bokuto collapsed on the grass and his kids piling on top of him in fits of giggles.

Akaashi is a master at getting his babies to sleep. He rocks them gently, trailing his fingers over their forehead and down their eyelids prompting them to close. When they’re asleep, he lays them in their crib and watches them sleep for a little, a soft smile on his face.

Aone is a human jungle gym for his kids. They love to climb all over him, hanging from his strong arms or neck. They also love to wrestle with him, frequently ganging up to try to take him down. Aone just smiles quietly through it all, enjoying the time playing with his kids.

Koganegawa is just as entertained as his children watching animated movies. On Saturday nights, they cuddle together on the couch with snacks and drinks, pulling out of a hat what movie they’re going to watch from their massive collection.

Ushijima struggled in the beginning of fatherhood due to the unpredictability of children; babies in particular. But once he got the hang of the basics, he began to enjoy the experience more. The first time his son cuddled up and fell asleep on his chest he was a lost man; fatherhood, he decided, was the best thing to ever happen to him.

Semi is the dad whose kids can talk to him about and tell him anything. He takes their opinions, thoughts, ideas, worries, fears, arguments all in stride, allowing them to have their say (respectfully, there is no reason to be rude and it just makes you look stupid). When they’re done, he offers his advice, opinion or answer depending on the nature of the discussion. They may not always like what he says but they respect him because he respects them.

Tendo was quite nervous to have children to be honest. Would they like him? Would they think he was scary? Then, his daughter was born and all his fears melted. He might have shed a few tears, but he’ll never admit it. He gets her into manga when she’s older and the two of them will spend hours fanboy/girling over their favorites.

[skittidyne]

when you have the time please please make an in depth post about kenma's reactions to new people, his personality, and relationship with hinata im begging you

please write that meta abt kenmas relationship to hinata as a foil that sounds fascinating

okay, so i gotta do this while i still got the Feelings and Energy but it’s not That Much so please forgive me if this doesn’t make all your dreams come true

but like

hinata is acting as a very obvious and important relationship with kenma, but honestly the fascinating thing is that he’s a contrast against kenma’s relationship with nekoma (and his individual relationships with players, yes, even kuroo). 

everything we’ve seen about kenma and how he approaches new people/relationships is avoidance at best and distaste at worst. he’s not a social person! that’s fine. kuroo had to drag him into friendship, volleyball, and other things over the course of years. tora and kenma butted heads almost violently in their first year - and it’s important to remember that their first year is the year when the had those hierarchical third years who bullied the first years, too! this means that any kind of scene those two were making was going to make them a target. especially for kenma, that’s a big deal. he avoids trouble. 

the less we say about kenma’s relationship with lev, the better. i feel that should be obvious enough. 

but hinata. hinata. that darling hyperactive ball of sunshine flounced into kenma’s life and it was immediate chemistry. while kenma was clearly nervous at first, hinata’s natural charm and friendliness eased his alarm. kenma feels comfortable around hinata. (to be clear, they absolutely have a rivalry, but that, too, is unlike how we’ve seen kenma interact with others.) there was no butting heads, arguments, or salt. there was curiosity, and shyness, and a few nerves, but it was almost overwhelmingly a positive interaction for both of them. 

(consider, briefly, how we’ve seen kenma interact with opposing teams: the unending salt between kenma & akaashi, or even kenma & the nohebi players. kenma is not a happy go lucky character who loves and values his opponents.)

even when finding out they were on opposing teams (well, hinata found out), there was no salt storm. karasuno have an array of rival teams on a spectrum of friendliness, but consider the varying relationships we see between the team members - kuroo & daichi’s grumpy/snide rivalry, yaku & noya’s fanboying over each other, and of course My Boys yamamoto & tanaka and their... thing - hinata and kenma never have anything but smiles for each other. 

now consider what we’ve seen of kenma interacting with his own team. 

that’s not to say that kenma dislikes his team!! kenma clearly adores nekoma and they EVEN MORE CLEARLY adore him, both as a player and their brain. but kenma doesn’t feel passion for volleyball. it’s just something he does with people who are probably his friends. 

hinata is passion for kenma (or will be). nekoma is the comfortable present - hinata is the bright future. kenma cannot grow as a character (into his endgame, at least) without the catalyst that hinata presents, and i find it really optimistic and pleasing that the catalyst is such a positive force, because that’s kind of rare when it comes to narrative pushes for character arcs.