Reader:F
Character:Tobio Kageyama
Rating:E
Summary: As you reached, your boyfriend pulled down the front of your tank top and started to suck on your nipples. His warm mouth against your skin. You gasped and recoiled back to your side of the bed but he followed you.
Warning:Breast Worship, Nipple Play, Creampie, Minor Breeding Kink, Smut
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You were leaning over your boyfriend Kageyama. Your breasts in his face as you went over to grab his bottle of water to drink before bed because you forgot yours. 

As you reached, your boyfriend pulled down the front of your tank top and started to suck on your nipples. His warm mouth against your skin. You gasped and recoiled back to your side of the bed but he followed you.

His lips still against your nipple, as he palmed the other one with his hand. He let out a small groan as his cock rubbed up against the front of your shorts. He pulled away for a second, noticing how raw you were getting, “I wish there was milk in here.”  Then crowded your space and started to suck on your nipples even more as he rutted against you. His cock hard in his sweatpants. 

  “I wonder if you’re wet.” He asked quietly, “Do you enjoy the feeling of this?” He gave a hard thrust of his cock against you. He leaned up and kissed you on the lips, “Get on top of me so I can make them nice and raw.” Then got off of you to lie down beside you on the bed. He took off his t-shirt and bottoms and laid there naked while you got your tank top and shorts off. 

You straddled his waist just above his cock and leaned in so he could put his mouth back on your soft, supple beasts. He teased the skin between his teeth which made you grow more wet as you moved back a little to seat yourself on his cock.

His cock opened you up in ways you never felt before. You gripped onto his bare chest and started to move up and down onto his cock. You were wet around him, a tight hole that he could fuck while he played with your nipples, moving back and forth between two in prominent lust. 

Your cunt throbbed around him as you continued to move up and down on his cock slowly, letting pleasure wash over you as he bit and tugged gently at your nipples. Your hands on his chest as you rocked against him. His cock throbbed inside of you.

  “I want no one else, only you. You’re mine. I mean it.” He groaned as he moved against you. His lips sucking on you, “I adore you.” He gave an open tongue lick against your sensitive, hard nipples. 

  “Fuck, Tobio.” You whined as you continued to rock against him. Your moans got louder the deeper he pushed into you. He held onto your hips while his mouth sloppily made out with your hard nipples. His cock ached inside of you, yearning for release. 

  “One day these are gonna be filled with milk and I’m going to have my fill.” He purred, his cock jolting inside of you. He held onto your hips to keep you anchored against his cock, your hole stretched to accommodate his length and size. He was already packing and the stretch always felt so good.

  “No one has tits like you.” He said, “No one at all, and they’re all mine. My little dairy cow.” He purred.

You blushed and playfully smacked him, “Don’t be mean!”

  “But your cunt seemed to like it. And I like when you struggle around my cock. Makes it all the more easier to stuff you.” He went back to sucking on your breast. 

You continued to rock yourself up against him, feeling pleasure slowly creeping up on you. You gasped a little bit and moaned. His teeth on your nipple, his cock inside of you. It was a wonderful feeling. 

  “I know you like it.” He purred, “I know you do, because you’re my good girl. Everything you do I’m in love with, you’re mine.” His voice was low and primal, you were turned on by him.

How could you not be, he was your boyfriend who loved to play with your breasts. If anyone made you feel confident in them, it was him. He looked at you with those lusty eyes as you continued to ride him. His hard cock pushing against your most sensitive areas. 

  “Please Tobio. I love you.”

  “And I love you, keep working those hips. C’mon.” His voice was a purr, on the verge of orgasm. His licks became rougher, he started to leave bites around your nipples, bruising your skin. Marking you as his. 

He continued to buck his hips to meet your pace. You looked amazing getting lost in pleasure like this. His fingernails bit at your skin as he helped you move against him. His eyes rolled back a little as he felt the shivers of orgasm crawl up his spine. 

It wasn’t long before you felt the overstimulated of your pussy and nipples. You gripped onto his shoulders, bouncing yourself on his cock while your nipples was in his mouth. 

He tugged at your flesh with his teeth and groaned when he felt the tightness around his cock and the feeling of more sticky wetness against his cock. And with a soft moan, you came around his cock. 

He grunted in response and came with you. Spurting cum deep inside of you with the promise of getting you pregnant. You’d look even better with milky breasts in a few months. He dropped his head onto the pillow, his mouth open and panting like an animal. 

You dropped yourself onto his chest and panted. You felt his strong arms wrap around you tightly as he roll over to his side and took you with him. Protecting you with his strength, his cock softening inside of you. Holding all the cum inside. 

He kissed under your ear and said lowly, “You’re mine. And only mine. You and your soft tits. I could suck on them all day. Next time.” He said even lower, his voice a growl, “I’m gonna make sure they get bigger.” And his hand traced down to your pussy that was sticky with your love making, “And that’s a promise.”

  “Tobi.” You moaned as he kissed your neck. He had a fascination with your breasts and it was the type of fascination that wasn’t going anyway anytime. It’ll only grow with time. 

[21:35]

“Chicken.”

You look up at the offender, locking eyes with one Hinata Shoyo. He flashes you a knowing smirk.

It’sKageyama’s leaving party, and instead of making the most of what time you have left with him, you’re sitting on the couch nursing your fragile heart with glasses of wine.

You’ve had all these years to confess your feelings, but everytime you go to say the words, you come up with nothing. Even tonight, you had been planning to say something, anything, and then Kageyama goes and announces he’s leaving to go play abroad in the Italian league and your heart sinks.

So far, you’re three glasses down and you don’t feel anything except for the room starting to spin.

“Shut up.” You growl, glaring at him. You’re dejected enough, you don’t need anymore salt being rubbed into your wound.

He takes a seat next to you, nudging your shoulder with his.

“You’re an idiot, you know.” He says wistfully. “You’ve always been the smartest person I know, yet you’re so dumb when it comes to love.”

You scoff, “As if you’re some casanova yourself.”

He takes you by the shoulders, shaking you gently as you grunt. “Look, would I ever lie to you?”

You meet his eyes. Hinata is a lot of things— He’s painfully optimistic, naive and endlessly happy. But he’s not a liar.

You shake your head.

“Exactly. So believe me when I tell you he’s in love with you too.”

You let out a deep sigh. “How many times do I have to tell you that-“

“And how many times do I have to tell you that you’re wrong?”

He waves something in front of your face, and it takes you a moment to realise it’s a phone. You snatch the offending item away from your face and it’s not until you look at the lock screen that you find out it’s not his. It’s Kageyama’s.

“Why do you have his phone?” You ask, eyeing him suspiciously.

“To prove a point.” He says simply. “Try to unlock it.”

He walks away before you can say anything more. You know it’s wrong. You know you should do the right thing and give it back before he realises it’s missing.

But you don’t— instead, you become intrigued and try to figure out what exactly Kageyama would have as his passcode.

You start inputting random shit at first and it’s all wrong so you try to come up with a strategy. You put in your graduation date from Karasuno. Wrong. You put in Hinata’s birthday. Wrong. The day he signed up to the Adlers. Wrong.

You put in his own birthday and still, it’s wrong.

You type in your birthday without much thought— it was your last attempt before you would end up disabling his phone for an hour so you might aswell go out with a bang.

But the phone doesn’t lock. It opens, and his home screen is staring back at you, almost tauntingly. You blink and press the lock button quickly.

Deep breath, and you type in your birthday again. The phone unlocks, again.

“Is that my phone?” A voice calls out behind you.

You freeze like a deer caught in headlights.

“Yes?” You admit sheepishly.

“What are you doing?” He chuckles, taking a seat next to you and smiling softly.

“Trying to unlock your phone.”

Silence. There’s a shift in the air between you two.

“Well,” there’s something weird in Kageyama’s voice, “did you manage to open it?”

This is your opportunity. You could say yes, you could let everything out and get this burden off your shoulder. This is the perfect time to confess.

But you don’t. Maybe Hinata was justified in dubbing you a chicken earlier.

“Nah, couldn’t guess your password.”

“Idiot.” He teases, holding his hand out so you can plop the phone down onto his palm. You watch him type the passcode carefully, holding the screen at an angle away from you so he can shield the passcode.

Your birthday. Kageyama isn’t one for sentimental things but your birthday is his passcode.

“So what did you need?” He asks.

“Nothing, was just gonna take ugly pictures on your phone.” You shrug it off, trying to sound casual even though your cheeks are burning. “Don’t want you to forget my face when you go off to Rome.”

“As if I could.” You look at him only to see he’s already staring at you, tenderness plain as day on his face.

“Congratulations, Tobio.” You say, linking your pinkie with his, just like you used to do as a kid when you were nervous and wanted him to comfort you.

“Thanks y/n.” He says, squeezing your pinky with his. “I hope you don’t forget me too.”

There’s so many unsaid words floating between you two right now, so many questions you want the answers to. You want so desperately to let out your feelings, but with him moving so far away, you’re not ready for the risks of a long-distance relationship.

So you bite your tongue and smile back. This is enough, you try to convince yourself.

This is enough for now.

No thoughts, just want Kageyama to sit on my lap, only to hug him from behind, and squeeze his middle as he blushes and pouts because he is not used to be treated like the baby he is.

➳ asking hq guys to peg them

warnings: mentions of nsfw topics but no smut

characters (randomly chosen): kenma kozume, tetsurō kuroo, toru oikawa, kei tsukishima, tobio kageyama, asahi azumane

a/n: this is my first time doing smau so hopefully it’s good :))

COCKWARMING THE PRETTY SETTERS

warnings: definitely smut 

characters: tooru oikawa, tobio kageyama, kenma kozume, koshi sugawara

a/n: i’m taking request btw :) my inbox is open. also, this is kinda long so grab your popcorn haha

oikawa

 - oikawa is obsessed with you whether he wants to admit it or not

- which is wild because no one would’ve expected him to ever be more obsessed with anyone other than himself

- but here you are

- and he LOVES being around you 

- just being in your presence makes him all giddy and smiley

-though he does try to compose himself whenever you guys are around his teammates but usually fails 

-  he’s not obsessed in a weird or creepy way, but just enough for you to know that he’s all about you and only you

- and you love it

- and of course oikawa’s obsession with you rings no surprise that he’s obsessed with being inside you 

- as long as he’s close to his pretty y/n, he’s happy

the two of you had just finished a long and strenuous two rounds of sex and were more than ready for bed. but when oikawa got out of bed to get towels for the two of you to clean up with, you felt extremely empty. you were exhausted, that’s for sure. but a big part of you just wanted him filling you up again, even if nothing else happened. you pout, knowing that your attentive boyfriend would notice when he came back, which he did. 

“hm, what’s wrong pretty girl?” he asks softly as he starts to gently clean his mess off of your stomach with a warm towel. 

“i want you inside of me again.” you say in an almost whisper, a little embarrassed by the words that just left your mouth and he laughs lightly. 

“you’re so cute.” he says as he tucks a piece of hair away from your face and gives you a kiss. “but i’m so tired.” he finishes, then plops down on the bed beside you, big spooning you. 

“no, we don’t have to have sex again, i’m exhausted too. i just want you inside me.” you say shyly. you feel his dick twitch behind you and can’t help but smile a little, knowing you’re about to get what you want.

“oh, like cockwarming?” oikawa asks and you nod in response. “hm, ok. yeah, we can do that.” he smiles before kissing your forehead. he was already big spooning you so he was in the perfect position to just slip it in. he pulls down his shorts just enough so that his member could spring free, then pulls the panties that you were wearing under one of his shirts down just enough for him to have access to what he needed. he teases your folds with his tip a little bit, causing you to tense up. then he slowly pushes himself inside you, it not being too difficult with you still being wet from earlier. the two of you moan in unison, both sensitive from your previous interactions. once he’s fully in, he stays there and wraps his arm around your waist as he plants a soft kiss on your shoulder.

“does that feel good? is that ok?” he asks before pressing more soft kisses on your shoulder and your neck.

“it’s perfect.” you coo and he pulls you a little closer with the arm he had slung over your waist.

“goodnight princess.”

“goodnight oikawa.”

-you definitely have morning sex when you wake up

kageyama

- let’s be real here, he really doesn’t know what any kinks are

- he just learns what he likes and what he doesn’t like from you and waits for you to tell him if it’s a kink or not 

- you end up having to tell him that basically anything sexual can be a kink after he keeps asking you “is that a kink?” every time you two do something new in bed 

- you find his lack of knowledge on the subject adorable though, even though you constantly tease him about it 

- he honestly just goes with the flow and follows your lead in terms of sexual things

- not that he’s the submissive one, you just know more about sex so sometimes you have to give him extra guidance

- he doesn’t mind it though, he wouldn’t wanna learn it from anyone else but you

- and you just so happened to teach him his new favorite kink

you two are making out on kageyama’s bed. it starts off innocent at first but slowly progresses into a messier and more heated kiss. you’re on top of him, tugging on his hair while he grips onto your hips. you begin slowly grinding against him causing him to moan softly into your mouth. his sounds were always so pretty and always instantly made your core pulse. you continue grinding on kageyama, giving both yourself and him pleasure. but it isn’t enough. in one swift motion he flips you over so now he’s the one on top. without detaching his lips from yours, he pulls his member out of his pants and lifts up the skirt you’re wearing then slowly pulls down your underwear, revealing your wet core.

“pretty.” he mumbles before licking a teasingly slow and soft stripe up your folds. you moan at the sensation and shut your eyes in pleasure. he continues to please you with his tongue before inserting two fingers into you. it hurts a bit more than usual but you shrug it off because the pleasure outweighs the pain. he continues with this for a few minutes more before he can’t take it anymore and positions himself at your entrance. he slowly begins pushing himself in, but as soon as he’s all the way in, you yelp in pain.

“ow ow ow! stop!” you groan, and kageyama does as told.

“what’s wrong? s-should i take it out?” he asks, concern laced in his voice.

“no no, keep it in just let me adjust to it.” you say. the day before, you and kageyama had some hardcore sex. you had unintentionally somewhat intentionally made him jealous so that he would punish you, and oh that he did. but your poor pussy was suffering the consequences. 

“ok princess, i won’t move. just let me know when you’re ready.” he says softly and you smile at his sweetness. he starts kissing you again, this time more deep and passionate as opposed to the sloppy, heated kiss that got you here in the first place. you were slowly beginning to relax around your boyfriend while he was losing his mind trying not to bust inside of you. something about not moving but still being inside you, feeling you around him. the anticipation. it’s driving him crazy.

“oh no, i’m gonna cum.” he says shyly as he pulls away from the kiss and accidentally cums inside of you. he hides his face in the crook of your neck in embarrasment and you just giggle at him, as that isn’t the first time that’s happened. 

“is, is that a kink? not doing anything, just being inside you? because i think i have that kink.” he mumbles into your shoulder.

“it is actually, it’s called cockwarming.” you say as you gently stroke his hair, trying to relax your still clearly embarrassed boyfriend. 

“hm, well can we never do cockwarming again, that was embarrassing.” he sighs before finally removing his head from the crook of your neck and looking at you.

“i don’t think it was embarrassing baby, i thought it was cute. but if you don’t wanna do it again we don’t have to.” you reassure him and he blushes at your compliment.

“maybe we can do it again sometime then, but for now it’s time to get you cleaned up.” he says before picking you up over his shoulder and taking you to the bathroom. 

kenma

- anyone who knows kenma knows that he is always preoccupied with video games

- whenever he’s playing, it’s fairly difficult to get his attention

- as his girlfriend, you’ve somewhat learned to accept this, even though you would like more attention from your boyfriend

- but you take what you can get, knowing that’s just how kenma is and you wouldn’t ever wanna change him 

- but sometimes you get needy

- really needy 

- and kenma isn’t always the best at reading that

- so you take it upon yourself to get the kind of attention you’re craving from your boyfriend

kenma doesn’t really get flustered too often. but when he does, oh anyone in a ten mile radius can tell. the first time you saw him really get flustered was when he gave you his hoodie while you were out on a date. it had gotten colder than you expected so he gave you his jacket to keep you warm, and as soon as you put it on, the boy went red. he couldn’t even form coherent sentences at first and you thought it was the most hilariously adorable thing ever. ever since that day, you’ve worn his clothes whenever you wanted his attention; hoodies, sweatshirts, t-shirts, you name it. today is one of those days. kenma has been gaming all day in some sort of tournament and you’re beginning to get frustrated because of how badly you’re craving his touch, so you pull out the big guns. you put on one of his favorite hoodies, one that you’ve never worn before, and head into his gaming room. he’s sitting is his gaming chair deep in concentration, shooting at someone and talking to who you assume is kuroo on his headset. he doesn’t even notice you at first until you come sit in his lap, your legs resting on either side of his as you lay your head on his shoulder. 

“hi kitten.” he whispers away from his mic before placing a gentle kiss on your lips and you hum in response. you played with the hair at the nape of his neck for a little bit before your overwhelming feeling of neediness comes back. you lift your head from kenma’s shoulder, now somewhat blocking his view of his computer screen.

‘i want to feel you inside me’ you mouth to him. he hadn’t even realized what you were wearing until right then, and his cheeks blush bright red. he places a finger under your chin and uses it to pull you in for a kiss. “go for it.” he whispers to you as he pulls away, reverting his attention back to his game that he had forgotten about for a quick second. you easily slip his member out of the sweats he’s wearing and give it a few strokes to get him hard. you were wearing absolutely nothing under his hoodie in hopes that this would be the outcome, and when he notices that as he glances from you back to his computer screen every so often, he mumbles 

“dirty little kitten, this is exactly what you wanted hm?” 

“mhmm” you respond and he smiles.

you continue what you’re doing and position kenma’s tip at your hole before slowly sinking down on it. your breath hitches at the feeling of being filled up, while kenma clenches his eyes shut and bites his lip in order to hold back his moans. once he’s fully inside you, you lay your head on his shoulder again and just stay there.

“hm, that’s it? you just wanna cockwarm me?” kenma asks curiously. 

“mhmm. just wanted to feel you inside me, that’s it.” you say sleepily, slowly drifting as you shut your eyes. 

kenma can’t help but smile, “you’re adorable.” he says before planting a kiss on your cheek. you smile a small smile in return before dozing off on kenma’s shoulder, him still buried deep inside you. 

every so often you would move around in your sleep and kenma would have to bite his lip to hold back a moan so the friends he was playing with wouldn’t hear, but it was worth the risk because he loves just being this close to you, and you do too.

sugawara

- suga’s high sex drive really surprised you when you two first started dating

- his kinkiness surprised you too

- you thought he would always be very gentle and vanilla

- but you were very mistaken

- not that you’re complaining though

- he’s always open to trying new things

- so when you bring up the topic of cockwarming, he’s intrigued

“is that something you wanna try bunny?” he asks after you finish explaining to him what exactly cockwarming is.

“we don’t have to if you don’t want to, i just think it’d be interesting to try.” you shrug

“i agree.” he says, before leaning over to start kissing your neck. that’s your weak spot, so you take this as suga saying he wants to try right now. the two of you are currently on the couch, in the middle of watching a romcom but clearly that romcom has been forgotten as suga continues to make little love bites on your neck. you lift his chin to kiss him because you know if you don’t stop him now, he’ll cover your whole body in hickies. the kiss is soft, but passionate and you can feel yourself quite literally melting into it. somehow you end up straddling suga, still lost in the kiss. you suddenly notice a pair of familiar fingers making their way down to your most sensitive area. he teases you, rubbing his fingers over your pajama shorts, knowing you’re getting needy because of the way you’re starting to softly moan into his mouth. he takes this as a sign of you wanting more and breaks away from the kiss so he can take off your shorts and your underwear, with a little bit of help from you. once your bottom half is completely naked, he grins and begins kissing you again. the sensation of your bare core against suga’s sweatpants was teasing you, so you began moving your hips to get some friction. suga moans a little at your sudden movements and you can feel him getting harder. he pushes you up off of him slightly so that he can pull his sweats down, them ending up just hanging around his ankles. now both of your bottom halves are naked, and you’re staring at each other in anticipation.

“sit on it bunny.” suga instructs and you follow his orders, sitting down on his length and feeling every inch against your walls. that feeling when he first inserts into you will never get old. 

“mm, suga.” you moan. he instinctively thrusts after hearing your pretty noises, completely forgetting what you guys were supposed to be trying.

“no, don’t move.” you laugh at him and he blushes apologetically.

“sorry, i couldn’t help it. you’re just so pretty.” he apologizes and you melt.

“it’s ok suga, you’re adorable.” you smile. “i’m gonna turn around now, but keep you inside me and we’ll finish the movie just like this, yeah?” you say.

“yeah.” he nods in agreement. without pulling suga out of you, you turn so that you’re no longer straddling him but sitting in his lap with your back facing towards him, your face now facing the tv. you guys finish the rest of the movie exactly like this, you sitting on suga’s lap with his member deep inside of you and suga occasionally thrusting up into you just to get your reaction. 

DOING THE GIVING HEAD PRANK ON THE KARASUNO BOYS (PT.1)

warnings: kinda smutty, idk lol

characters: shoyo hinata, tobio kageyama, daichi sawamura, koshi sugawara, ryu tanaka, asahi azumane, kei tsukishima, yu nishinoya, tadashi yamaguchi

a/n: if you don’t know what this trend is, it’s basically just someone getting on their knees and acting like they’re about to give their partner head but not lol

findpt.2here

tsukishima

- you and tsukishima have the kind of friendship that has everyone around you thinking you’re dating

- always teasing each other, play fighting, “fake” flirting

- it’s pretty obvious that you two have a thing for each other

- well pretty obvious to everyone but you two

- one day you invite him over to just hang out while your parents are away for a little

- he responds to your text with “the only way i’m coming over is if you give me head. wouldn’t come over otherwise.”

- and you respond with “obviously. why else would i ask?”

- that was the way you two joked with each other ALL the time

- some people think it’s strange, but it works for you guys which is all that matters

- although this time you wanted to mess with him extra

- he gets to your house within the next five minutes, the two of you living in walking distance of each other

- as soon as he rings the doorbell, you open the door, get on your knees, and tie your hair up

- and he FREAKS

- “Y/N!!! YOUR FRONT DOOR IS WIDE OPEN! EVERYONE CAN SEE!! WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?!” he yelps as he quickly enters your house and slams the door shut.

- you laugh hysterically at his reaction

- “you did not actually think i would suck you off in front of all my neighbors did you? my god tsukishima, that reaction was priceless.” you cackle

- he turns bright red and scoffs at you in return, crossing his arms in frustration

- “i’m sorry, i just saw the opportunity and took it.” you apologize

- “no that was good. i’ll admit, you got me.” he says throwing his hands up in defeat.

- “you? admitting defeat? hm, maybe i will actually give you head.”

- before he can respond, you’re on your knees again. and this time, it isn’t a joke.

kageyama

- you and kageyama have only been dating for all of one week

- a very fresh and new relationship where you are still getting to know each other

- you were at his house, laying on his chest as the two of you were sprawled out on his couch

- you were watching tiktoks on your phone while he was scrolling through twitter on his, when a video popped up on your for you page that gave you an idea

- kageyama is a bit awkward and gets flustered easily, whether he wants to admit it or not

- so you knew this little trick would be fun

- you wriggled yourself out of his embrace and got on your knees in front of him

- his eyes were glued on you, wondering what you were up to

- “what are you doing?” he asks with a quirked eyebrow

- he sits up so now you’re positioned perfectly in between his legs

- “what does it look like i’m doing?” you respond as you begin tying your hair back

- “i-i, i uh, i don’t know. that’s why i asked.” he stutters, already getting flustered.

- you place your hands on his legs before moving down, his breath hitching

- then you swiftly let go and look under the couch and pick up the dollar you had conveniently placed there for this prank

- “looking for this, duh.” you say, waving the dollar around

- “oh god.” he sighs before burying his face in his hands.

- “i can’t believe i fell for that.” he mumbles into his hands

- “should’ve seen how eager you looked.” you chuckle lightly

- he removes his face from his hands and reveals a very flushed and embarrassed looking kageyama

- “you’re so cute when you’re embarrassed.” you tease

- “shut. up.” he groans

daichi

- you guys are at your house baking cookies

- you know, just cute couple things

- but you’re extremely clumsy

- so of course you accidentally drop the ball of dough you were rolling

- “shit!” you groan before bending down to pick up the dropped dough

- but as you were reaching for it, you got an idea

- you dropped down to your knees with daichi hovering above you

- “i can’t believe you really just dropped the whole ball of- oh?” daichi was laughing so hard at your clumsiness, he hadn’t even noticed your current position

- on your knees and looking up at him with what he called “sexy eyes” which are the eyes you give him whenever you want sexy time

- “oh yeah? so we’re doing that now? shouldn’t we finish the cookies first princess?” he says as he runs his fingers through your hair before lightly caressing the side of your face and lifting your chin up slightly

- that alone makes you want to forget the whole prank and give in, but you really want to see his reaction

- “yeah, that’s what i planned on doing?” you say as you pick up the fallen dough and stand up to go throw it away “why? what’d you think i was doing?” you finish

- daichi’s mouth goes agape in a small ‘o’ before he clenches it shut and frowns at you

- “oh, you’re gonna get punished for that later princess.” he huffs at you as he continues rolling balls of cookie dough

- “can’t wait.” you smirk

asahi

- asahi is always a giver in terms of sexual favors in your guys’ relationship

- he always makes sure to please you and make sure you feel good

- but whenever you return the favor, he gets all shy about it

- something about using your pretty little mouth is just overwhelmingly pleasurable for him

- and he’s embarrassed about how quickly it gets him off

- so it’s difficult to get him to allow you to even do it

- “asahi, pleaseee let me give you a blowjob.”

- “no baby, i don’t need one right now.”

- “but i wanna give you one.”

- “not today.”

- ‘not today,’ that’s how most of the conversations about this topic ended so you gave up trying for awhile

- until a tiktok sparked something in you that is

- you ask asahi to shower with you one morning and of course he says yes

- you guys start by actually showering

- you gently lather yourself using your loofa before “accidentally” dropping it

- you kneel to pick it up before being met face to face with asahi’s “special area”

- you look from him, to it, then back up to him again

- he’s watching you nervously, all of him wanting you to just take it despite how embarrassingly quick he knew he would finish

- but instead you just pick up the loofa and stand up, now looking at his normal head rather than his smaller one

- “oh.” he sighs before gulping lightly

- “what?” you ask

- “i though you were gonna-”

- “would you have let me?” you question

- “i would have actually.” he admits shyly

- “hm, let me continue then.” you smirk before going back down and glancing up at him

- he gives you a cute little smile before you do your deed

- and this time, he lasts a little longer

YOU INITIATE THE FIRST KISS

warnings: none just fluff :))

characters: asahi azumane, koshi sugawara, tobio kageyama, kenma kozume

a/n: these are just my faves, you can request others if you’d like haha

KENMA

- you and kenma have been dating for a little less than a month now

- but because of his shy and timid nature, your guys’ physical intimacy hasn’t exceeded past hand holding and an occasional cuddle

- you respect kenma’s boundaries and how nervous physical interactions make him of course, but as everyday passes you want to kiss him more and more

- he’ll do something cute and romantic and all you wanna do is jump his bones but then remember that he would probably freak out

- “whatcha thinking about?” kenma asks you as he notices the frowned look on your face

- you are currently playing with his hair as he lays on your lap, and it’s taking all of you not to just kiss him

- but you don’t know if you should tell him that

- “hey, i asked you a question.” he says gently

- “oh sorry, umm. you just, you look so cute and peaceful when i play with your hair and i…” you trail off

- “you what?”

- “and i…can i kiss you?” you ask softly

- he blushes and smiles before nodding ‘yes’ and you finally get what you had been wanting for so long

- the kiss is short and sweet, but nonetheless amazing for both of you

- “thank you for letting me do that.” you say

- “hm, i should’ve done it a long time ago.” he coos before kissing your cheek

ASAHI

- overhears you tell your friend you want to learn how to spike during class

- he sees it as an opportunity to help his crush so he offers to help, and you accept

- extremely nervous to hang out with you outside of class for the first time

-but plays it off as if he isn’t

- you are typically a reciever in volleyball

- so teaching you how to spike is slightly difficult at first

- but asahi is very persistent on trying to get you to hit a decent spike, so he patiently teaches you the technique

- and after several tries, you finally hit a good one

- “i did it!”

- “yes you did it y/n! i knew you could!”

- you thank asahi and wrap your arms around him in a tight hug

- then give him a light peck on the lips as you let go

- “you’re welcome y/n” he chuckles shyly as a deep blush creeps over his face.

SUGAWARA

- you two meet during your first week at university

- the two of you bond over both being first years and being nervous about what uni would be like

- over the course of a few weeks you guys become pretty close friends

- and during that course of time you just so happened to catch feelings for the soft, grey haired boy

- so you asked him to meet you at your guys’ “secret spot” a shaded area under a tree on campus, so you could confess

- he meets you there without a second guess, expecting you to just want to study together or chat like you always do

- “hi y/n!” he greets you

- but you don’t even respond and grab him lightly before planting your kiss, the anticipation taking over you

- he looks at you with an expression full of confusion and excitement before kissing you again

- “i’ve been wanting to do that since the day i met you.” he says with a warm smile

KAGEYAMA

- you are one of the many people that get on kageyama’s nerves

- you don’t know why, but something about you really irks that boy

- you sit next to each other in math and you never fail to get a better grade than him on every test

- “are you kidding me?! i studied all night!” kageyama grunts

- “and you still got a c while i’m sitting here with a 100%, A+” you tease

- sometimes you purposely would do things to tick kageyama off, just to see that cute angry pout he gives you for the rest of the class period

- “i’ll get a better grade than you someday y/n.” kageyama huffs as he crosses his arms

- “yeah right, and i’ll kiss you when you do.” you laugh, not thinking it would ever happen

- but little did you know that was all he would need to succeed

- a week had passed and your class was getting handed back the graded tests that you had just taken

- “ha! a 95% tobio, could you beat that?” you snark

- “actually, yes.” he smirks before showing you his paper which had a big ‘100% A+’ written on the top

- your face went blank before realizing what you had to do

- you lean into kageyama and leave a soft kiss on his lips

- he tries to hide his huge grin and fails miserably

- “i knew i’d earn that kiss.”

Here are some sweet setters asking the Manager of Shiratorizawa out!

Includes: Oikawa, Sugawara, Kageyama, Akaashi and Kenma x Manager!Reader

Warnings- Slight mention of blood in Suga’s.

{A/n- This is my first ever Head canon so please don’t be afraid to tell me how I can improve! And, I hope you enjoy!}

Oikawa-

•   So the first time this boy met you was at a game where they were playing Shiratorizawa
•   Que Wakatoshi walking up to Oikawa, the pretty setter rolling his eyes because bby boy knows what’s coming.
•   “Oikawa, you should’ve come to-“ A swift volleyball to the head cause Wakatoshi to stop talking and Oikawa to stand in shock
•   That’s when the most attractive person he has ever seen appeared in front of him
•  And believe me, bby boy has looked in the mirror multiple times
•   You grabbed Wakatoshi by the ear and scolded him
•   “leave Oikawa alone you overgrown statue!”
•   The comment cause Oikawa to cackle as you apologized with Wakatoshi still in hand
•   As you took him away Oikawa was left standing there gaping at your back
•   Bby boy realized he should’ve gone to Shiratorizawa
  
•   Oikawa couldn’t get you off of his mind, so when he heard he was going to a training camp and Shiratorizawa would be there, boy was vibrating due to excitement.
•   Boy managed to spend every second he wasn’t training with you, or he would leave you gifts if he knew he was going to be busy all day
•   This is how you started to wake up to a bouquet of different flowers he had picked every morning
•   On the last day of training camp, you were both very close and he was helping you pack your things
•   Took so much time due to the sheer amount of gifts
  
•   This is when he pulled out a stuffed teddy of himself and gave it to you
•   “y/n, I don’t want you to miss me too much when I’m not around so here”
•  You start to panic saying how you haven’t got him anything
•   Smooth bby pulls you close “just give me your heart Y/n” and kisses you
•   You become a puddle in his arms and give into his kiss.

Sugawara-

• God he’s so cute I can’t!
• Training with the boys had gotten you pretty accustom to flying volleyballs, However what you hadn’t expected to be smacked in the back of the head with one after Hinata forgot to actually aim the ball
• Sweet baby got so many death stares of Shiratorizawa 
• Sugawara was the first one to reach you and help you sit up
• he tried to ask you if you were okay but all forms of words got caught in his throat as he stared into your eyes
• That was until blood started dripping from your nose due to your ever-so-graceful face plant
• Mom-mode activate
• Boy picked up up like it was nothing and rushed to the first-aid room
• he stayed with you, making sure to get you water and food
• grazing his hand as you took the cup of water had you blushing
• staring to get worried he leaned in to check if you had a fever and ended up inches away from your lips
• The boy blushed when he realized how close he was to you but couldn’t stop looking at you, begging himself to kiss you
• Just as he worked up the courage to make a move, Tendou showed up
• You silently cursed your team’s awful timing
• “sorry to interrupt, but if you’re done smooching our manager, we kinda need her back now”
  
• Pretty sure you were redder then Tendou’s hair at this point, and Suga wasn’t any better
• He couldn’t get you off of his damn mind for ages
• so when he saw you in a diner, he couldn’t believe his luck
• “hey, Y/n”
  
• You looked up and sent him a soft smile “Hello Sugawara”
• “If you’re not busy, mind if I join you?”
  
• You two spent the next 2 hours talking about volleyball and other interests you both had.
• When it was time to leave he walked you to your car, but he couldn’t let you go just yet
• sweet boy brought your hand up to his mouth and kissed it. “I hope I can see you again Y/n. Maybe next time I can be a date?”
• You agreed to his question and organised to meet him tomorrow for a date

Kageyama-

• This was the worst moment in Kageyama’s life
• His milk had gotten stuck in the vending machine
• Before angry boy had time to smash the glass, the machine shook as a foot had connected with it
• The milk fell but Kageyama’s eye were glued to the angel that stood in front of him
• you sent him a sweet smile and ran to join your team
• his eyes couldn’t leave you, well that was until Semi stood directly in front of you and sent a dirty scowl his way
• Poor baby ran away so fast he forgot his milk
• Half way through practice, you had gotten particularly thirsty and went back to the vending machine. 
• You noticed Kageyama’s stray milk and picked it up 
• Going over to where Karasuno was practicing, you saw him sitting on the bench, seemingly sulking
• “Hello again Kageyama, I think you forgot this” You said while handing him the milk
  
• Bby’s world lit up. He was in love with this Milk Deity. Yes it was that easy
• The only problem was Kag’s didn’t know what the hecc a crush was, let alone how to ask one out
• so he went to his mum
• Yes, I’m talking about Suga
• “Suga, I think I’m dying”
• This causes Suga to stare at the setter with confusion
• “Every time I see y/n my heart beings to race and I can’t breath. I also get sweaty. I think I’m allergic to them”
  
• It took Suga s hot minuet to stop laughing at the fact Kageyama’s conclusion was he was allergic to you
• “Kageyama, you have a crush on Y/n. You’re not allergic to them” 
  
• “A crush?” Poor baby had the most deadpanned expression you’ve ever seen as he took in the new information
  
• It took him a whole week to process this, and another week to get your number, and another month to ask you out
• “Y/n, turns out I have a crush on you. Date me.”
  
• It was less of a question and more of a demand
• Lucky for him, you had liked him since you first met, so you accepted quickly
• you pulled him into a tight embrace and kissed his cheek
• You killed him
• Congratulations :)

Akaashi-

• How the hell did you end up here? How the hell did this grown-ass man end up lost in the middle of your practice?
• He said his name was Bokuto and that’s all he’ll say other then a string of what can only be described as sad owl noises
• and now, you’re walking around campus hand-in-hand with him trying to find the Fukurodani team because they lost their damn captain
• Walking around you heard someone call Bokuto and you literally saw the boys hair inflate along with his growing smile
• “AKAASHIIIIII!!!!” he screamed next to you “LOOK I MADE A FRIEND”
  
• yeah, as confusing as it was, you quickly had grown to like Bokuto 
• “Hello, thank you for looking after our captain, he get’s distracted and walks off” Akaashi said giving Bokuto an evil stare
• “See you soon y/n” Bokuto waved as he walked away
  
• you felt Akaashi’s eyes linger on you a little longer as he walked away
• What Akaashi didn’t realize is that you’d walk into the gym with the rest of Shiratorizawa trailing behind you
• “Y/N” Bokuto’s scream could be heard outside the gym as he bounded up to you and tackled you into a hug
  
• Your laugh rang in Akaashi’s ears, it was angelic 
• His eyes raked over your laughing form when he noticed your smile and the way your eyes crinkled as you looked at the owl-like boy
• He couldn’t stop the pang of jealousy, nor could he stop his body from pulling Bokuto off you and holding you protectively 
• He blushed when he realized what he’d done, and so had you
• Mostly because you were currently wrapped in the hot setter’s muscles but I digress 
• His crush became more and more apparent to him as he watched you through out the game
• Boy was so distracted even Bokuto noticed his lack of participation
• “Akaashi, care to stop ogling at y/n and maybe PLAY THE DAMN GAME”
  
• Bokuto’s scolding had reached your ears, causing a deep blush on your face which Akaashi had noticed
• During the break of the game, Akaashi noticed Bokuto talking to you again which caused him to grab your hand and drag you out of the gym
• “Akaashi? Is everything okay?”
  
• Akaashi grabbed you and held you close 
• “I’m sorry, I can’t ignore how I feel when I see you talk to anyone else”
  
• He kissed your forehead and basically begged to take you out on a date
• Meanwhile you were literally deceased in his arms
• You’ve had a crush on Akaashi for a while so this is your dream come true
• Of course you agreed to date the setter
• Would be a lit plot twist if you said no though….

Kenma-

kinktober day 10: kageyama tobio + roleplay

cw. nsfw, mdni, roleplay [doctor kageyama + patient reader], dub-con, toys [vibrator], fingering, pussy slaps

wc.700

a/n.doctor kageyama pussy slaps omfg 

masterlist| join taglist 

+@hqintheclub​

“do you want me to take a closer look?” he asks, scribbling a few last things on the small notebook. you nod hesitantly. 

going to the doctor was never your favorite activity, but given your recent problem it was necessary. lucky for you, the doctor seems more than happy to fix you up.

“alright, just lay back, and open your legs so i can take a look” he says. you do as told, laying down on the cold parchment paper covered bed, and spreading your legs, your tiny skirt riding up your thighs. 

“spread them” he says. god, you know he’s just being professional, but the way those words rolled out of his mouth sounded so sinful. “wider” he puts his hands on your thigh, prompting you to do as he says. it’s a little weird for him to touch you like this, but you brush it off as something he does with all his patients.

little did he know, you’re getting special treatment for wearing that tiny skirt, a dainty girl like you should know better than to wear something like that to a doctors office.

“let me take a look” you unintentionally hold in your breath, his hands roaming from your legs to your inner thigh. you remind yourself it’s all in the most professional manner, but something about his fingers fingering in the same place for so long makes you think there’s something else behind his touches. 

“hm” it’s a simple reply before he shies away from you and rummages through something in his drawers. he pulls out a pink toy. a sex toy.

it’s not what he normally uses with his patients, but he’s willing to make an exception for such a pretty little thing like you.

he looks back over to you, lying helplessly on the bed. thoughts of everything he could do with such a pretty girl laying on the bed of his office, but he’d have to wait a little longer. he notices the blush that spreads on your cheeks when he reveals the toy.

“aww, don’t be embarrassed, i’m a professional, you don’t have to worry about…” there’s a slight pause he uses to take in a breath. “the things i’m going to do to you” he says with a sigh. 

next thing you know, your fingers are clenching down around the parchment paper, almost tearing through it. his hand is pressing the toy on your clit, the vibrations making you squirm in your seat.

as much as he assured you that he was a professional, he couldn’t deny the hand on your chest had nothing to do with the procedure, he shouldn’t be rubbing his fingers along your perked up nipple, but who were you to stop him when it only drove you closer to the edge.

“you know, it doesn’t seem like you have any problems with your libido” he says, reminding you of why you came to his office in the first place. he’s right, all of your problems seemingly went away as soon as he stepped into the room. 

a loud slap snaps you out of your thoughts, his gloved hand coming down hard on your cunt. “o-ow!” you cry, bucking your hips into his touch. 

“did that hurt? i’m so sorry” he says, but from the smirk on his face, you can tell he’s far from apologetic. “are you close, princess?” 

“mhmm” you whine, trying your best to hold back from him. one of his fingers slips into you, the wetness between your thighs making it easy and putting you to shame. between the stimulation to your swollen clit, and his finger curling upwards and finding your sweet spot, you’re convulsing and clenching around his digits in just a few seconds.

“good, good” he says, soothingly running his hand over your arm. “good girl” he coos. he pulls away from you, walking over to his desk and cleaning the toy, putting it back into the drawer. he takes your panties, still bunched up on the corner of the bed, and tucks them in the pocket of his coat. 

“doctor” you call him, and god the way the title slips out of your lips is enough to make his cock twitch, already hard from seeing you cream around his fingers. “it still hurts” you pout, playing with the hem of your skirt while you sit on the edge of the bed. you spread your legs invitingly, “i think i need you to take another look” you say, eyeing the bulge in his pants. 

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kageyama + treehouse

inspired by treehouse - alex g !! gender neutral reader

child kageyama heard a knock on the door to his tree house. he opened the door excitedly, something he would not admit to himself, only to see a face he didn’t want to see. his excited face, which he tried to hide, fell. “what do you want” asked kageyama his sister somewhat harshly, but his sister didn’t seem fazed. “can i enter? i need to hide from-“, “no.” kageyama had interrupted her. no one could enter except for you. he was also currently waiting for you to come and did not want his sister to bother you and him. kageyama told his sister to leave as he waited for you.

kageyama smiled faintly at the memory of you and him as a child. he always has loved you. you were always the only one he let in his treehouse. or heart. but now you were gone, you had broken up. no one would be able to enter his treehouse or his heart now.

do not enter it’s written on the doorway, why can’t everyone just go away?

except you, you can stay <3

A/N: (Please do let me know if you want to be tagged in this series!)

Prev—Next

Series Masterlist

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Act 1.1: Satō (Y/N)

Your transfer into Karasuno High School comes a week and a half late.

It comes to no surprise to you—your surname change and school transfer took a good three weeks to occur. Fast, apparently. You had, after all, been informed of the possibility that it would take longer to process through. And you knew that if that was the case, you would refuse to attend school at all… Only travelling back and forth after hours to collect any homework and textbooks required.

For some reason, the Vice Principal had permitted you to do so for the week you were absent.

(You think it’s because he’s a closeted fan of your aunt’s—the person who had been taking you to and from school during your week of absence. You’ve seen the lingering gazes and maybe the magazine stuffed haphazardly under a pile of paperwork and books on his table in his office. You hope he doesn’t attempt to garner any favours for you by allowing you to do this.)

So the first time you turn up to class—you don’t show your face at all. You don’t particularly consider yourself a goody-two-shoes, but you’re dressed elegantly for class, clothes ironed out and crisp against your skin. Your hair is neat, and you turn up 20 minutes early to class. Your seat, labelled, is in the third row of the classroom and by the window facing the courtyard. It’s clichéd, but it works for you because the view beyond the window isn’t spectacular, but it’s incredible all the same. 

(It’s easier to imagine everyone as ants—insignificant, until they bite. The view from the window only helps to prove your point.)

Academically, your grades are only slightly above average—excelling in only two classes aside from Phys. Ed, as expected from a volleyball nerd.

One by one, your classmates trickle in, finding their seats and preparing for the day. You’re glad they don’t notice you. Or maybe they do, but they’re refusing to approach you, given that you’re wearing a Calvin Klein cap and a black Adidas mask—Not your choice of clothing, but you unfortunately had nothing else less illustrious. You had only been in Miyagi for less than three weeks after all. 

(You had purposely selected something less pricey to wear—You clearly had other expensive clothing from more expensive brands, given the black Balenciaga sneakers you had worn on the way to school. Not that anyone needed to know, of course.)

You dreaded the lone self-introduction that came with new beginnings. Words didn’t come easy to you—it never had. And it was even more difficult now that you were forced to hide your identity. Nevertheless, when the bell toils to indicate the beginning of class and your name is called to the front, you immediately remove your cap and set it down on your table, rising to introduce yourself. The stares of your class are unnerving, and you take several moments to ground yourself before speaking up in your usual, quiet voice. 

“Satō (Y/N). 15. From Osaka.”

And you promptly sit back down, not willing to interact with any of your classmates. You hope your somewhat cold attitude brings a sense of “please don’t talk to me” to your peers. Your time in high school would pass by much quicker if they did so. But it’s unfortunate that not everything goes your way. In fact, it’s safe to say that barely anything does, and you wonder how long you’re able to keep up the facade you’ve put up: You’re wearing contacts. Purple ones that make you stand out amongst your classmates. Your face mask. Your unwillingness to speak.

It’s really only a matter of time before they find out who you are.

So when lunch rolls around after a handful of classes, you’re not surprised to suddenly find yourself surrounded by your classmates. They’re loud, and your introverted self can’t handle them, slowly shrinking into yourself as they continue to bombard you with questions.

There are some you’re willing to answer, and there are some that you can’t.

“You’re from Osaka, right? Why don’t you have the accent?”

“Why the contacts, and why purple?”

You don’t mind the questions, but—Your breaking point is when one of the boys attempts to tear your mask off. And the change is instant. You immediately slap his hand away and rise abruptly, taking your packed bentō with you to somewhere much more quiet.

The rooftop.

Technically, you’re not supposed to be there—the door was locked, after all. But you’re more than experienced in picking locks: you used to do it all the time to enter your middle school’s gym early in the morning, until the supervising teacher was fed up with you and gave you your personal key. 

(You still have that key—It’s a good luck charm of sorts now.)

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The rooftop is silent.

The gentle Spring breeze of mid-April brushes through your hair, carrying the sounds and scents of your classmates and fellow school students as it brushes past. You take a seat on the edge of the building, legs swinging over the side despite the existing railing. You’re well aware that you’re bound for trouble, but the thought flies directly over your mind as you uncover your bentō and relish in the ‘silence’. The little plastic lunchbox carries your favourite dish, spread neatly over rice and you unhook your face mask. 

You devour the meal at a leisurely pace, savouring the taste with a slight hum and watching a certain pair pass a volleyball to one another in a set-receive motion. 

……Which reminded you that you were supposed to go to Shiratorizawa—the school your parents had a share in finances in…

…And a building, you sigh to yourself. One of the five gyms on campus, named after my family from their sponsorship. 

And naturally, you refused, knowing that your fame would never dissipate if you ever went there. After all, Shiratorizawa was a prestigious school known for both it’s sports and academics. You had no interest in prestige—which is the sole reason why you had selected Karasuno over even Aoba Josei. 

(Totally not because of some guy named Oikawa Tooru. Nope. You refused to even become acquainted with him. You’ve heard the rumours and you flat out refuse.)

Sighing, you take a sip of your water bottle and close the lid of your bentō. And—

—The rooftop door swings open with a bang.

“What are you doing here?!”

It’s the vice principal and you baulk, face paling slightly. But all you do is rise to your feet and bow. The vice principal stares back and pales slightly, not expecting you to immediately wordlessly request for forgiveness. And he panics.

(It’s admittedly amusing.)

“Alright, alright! I get it. I won’t punish you for sneaking up here.”—was he trying to gain favour from you?—“Instead, I will say that you must sign up for a club by the end of tomorrow. Submissions end this week for the beginning of year applications, but I can make a special exception for you.”

Club activities at Karasuno were compulsory for half a year, at least. But applications received at the beginning of the year tended to indicate some kind of semi-permanent position. Permanent, unless something serious occurred. 

Like the events that led to your downfall in your final year.

The vice-principal gives you no other options. You sigh dejectedly, despite knowing your ability to seek trouble accidentally, and shut your bento. You follow the vice principal down the narrow stairwell and into his office, receiving the application paper and the booklet with the list of available clubs. 

Instinctively, you seek for the volleyball clubs. 

The vice president, well aware of your identity, grins slyly and taps the space between the two volleyball teams.

“The girls team is seeking for more members, and the boys team is looking for another manager to take over from their third-year when the year is over.”

You deadpan and shut him down immediately, leaving the room. 

“I’ve given up on volleyball.”

He visibly deflates at the tone of your voice, wig almost slipping from his head. 

(Silently, you wonder how it stays on his head in the first place.)

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In the end, you wander outside during the free study line you’re given and into the crowd of clubs seeking their final applicants. Accidental, of course, but you’re caught up in the crowd anyway. And after several moments of being jostled and shoved around, you end up in front of the school gym—a place you had yet to explore. But you pause for several minutes, listening to the sounds arising from the gym in curiousity. And it barely takes you 30 seconds before you sigh once again.

(Fate was cruel to you, wasn’t it? Because the thumping sounds you could hear from outside the gym didn’t belong to the basketball club. They belonged to the volleyball club—the boys one, because you could hear the deeper voices call “alright!” from within.)

You do, however, linger at the entrance, mostly because you have no idea of the direction back to your classroom or the library—another place you have yet to explore—and partially out of curiosity. And as it goes, you get caught by a grey-haired upperclassman who approaches you with ease.

“Are you…. maybe looking for the girl’s volleyball club?” he questions you with an air of friendliness, unlike those you had experienced in your classroom, and a smile, “Sorry, but you’ve just missed their captain.”

You shake your head gently, nervous beneath the mask. 

(Nervous, because you hadn’t expected him to appear from behind you. Nervous, because he was holding a pair of red and white volleyball shoes. Nervous, because he was obviously a member of the boys volleyball team.)

“I, um,”—was caught up by the crowd of people looking for members to their clubs, swallowed up by them, spat back out and—“got lost.”

“I see.” The pretty male chuckles politely, taking note of your dishevelled appearance and taking a polite assumption of your situation, “They do become quite ravenous when it comes to the last few days. I’m glad you got out of there safely.”

He’s kind, you notice, and you relax slightly. You also notice he’s about to say something else, when—

—“Suga! You’re finally here!” 

The voice comes from the barred window just behind the silver-haired senpai and he jolts with a loud “Geh!”, face paling in shock. The corner of your lips curl upwards ever so slightly. It’s somewhat nostalgic, you suppose, that excitement that comes with playing the sport you love.

Mr. Kind steps to the side and turns to Mr. Head-in-Window.

“Daichi! Don’t scare me like that!”

But ‘Daichi’ no longer pays attention to ‘Suga’. Instead, his intense expression is directed to you—the you who’s slowly yet subtly withering beneath his intense gaze. Naturally, Daichi notices and relaxes, lowering himself from the window quickly. He disappears for several moments, before the door to your left swings open to reveal the said senpai.‘Daichi’ greets you, an expression now equally as kind as ‘Suga’ who was still recovering from his shock. You pat the grey-haired senpai on the back, silently amused. ‘Suga’ tenses from your touch, however, but says nothing and turns to watch your interaction with the captain.

“Can we help you?” 

You tilt your head slightly, violet eyes glinting in the shadow of the alleyway. “Sorry. I got lost.”

Suga chuckles at your blunt statement and decides to elaborate in your place. “She got caught up in the crowd of people recruiting for clubs and found her way here.”

Like Suga, Daichi laughs. “I should’ve known,” he teases, “your hair is quite a mess—“

You panic. Scrambling to fix your hair using the glass screen of your phone. And it takes you several moments before you freeze and flush in embarrassment, realising you don’t even know their names properly and they’re already teasing you. And even then you can think of nothing more to do than to deadpan at his words, running your fingers through your hair to calm it down. 

But Suga just stares at you. Your violet contact lenses and face mask intrigue him. It wasn’t everyday that someone adamantly went out of their way to break the school rules, and violet wasn’t a common colour for contact lenses anyway—the main reason why it intrigued him in the first place. But the grey-haired male seemed to understand that if he were to question your reasons for wearing them, that it would result in you promptly leaving. 

And something told him you didn’t want to leave.

The two third-years had heard of the rumours, of course. Rumours that had spread rather rapidly within the two hours between the time you had left your classroom indignantly and now. They were rumours that spoke of a rich girl. Haughty and rude.

But watching you adorably and frantically fix your hair in the screen of your phone made them think otherwise. 

(It was painfully obvious that the rumours were about you. After all, there was only one person in the school now who would constantly be wearing a face mask, had violet eyes, and wore a pair of black Balenciagas outside of the school building. And the rumours weren’t kind either. Suga hopes the rumours don’t bother you at all.)

Suga glances at Daichi, catching his eye. The taller of the two nods, and turns to talk to you once more. He smiles warmly. 

“Would you like to come inside? We’re just having ordinary practice, and those guys,” he points over your shoulder at the cord behind you, “won’t be done for another two hours at least.”

There is no judgement in his voice. You know of the rumours and they downright terrify you. But you can’t help but maintain that hope that it wouldn’t move past just that. Rumours.

Your hesitation is obvious but you nod anyway, knowing that you were taking up their precious practice time. 

(You knew there was another way to get into the school without passing through that crowd, but you can’t help but be curious anyway.)

Suga senses your hesitance and he, too, smiles at you brightly. “You won’t be imposing or anything if you sit on the sidelines and spectate, you know? The only thing you might have to watch out for is flying balls.”

Your hesitation ceases. You nod once again and follow them inside.

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“So….” you begin nervously, “S-Suga-san and Daichi-san, was it? You’re both third-years.”

Daichi flushes bright red and Suga just laughs at his expense, completely unfazed by the fact you’ve just called him by an affectionate nickname of his. He slaps Daichi heartily on his back. You, however, begin to wonder if you’ve done something wrong, given the bright flush on his cheeks. And as you open your mouth to ask, Suga beats you to it.

“That’s right,” he grins brightly, “I’m Sugawara Koushi, a third-year setter for this volleyball team. You can call me Suga though. And this is Sawamura Daichi, our captain.”

Your face, or at least what was visible of it, flushes equally as red as the third-year captain almost immediately. Flustered, you promptly bow at 90-degrees, stuttering out apologies at the fastest possible pace you could manage. 

“I’m so sorry Sawamura-senpai—“

The male in question holds out his hands and waves it around frantically. 

“There’s no need to apologise—“ he begins, only to be cut off by another voice. The voice is gravelly, teasing and very much rough. In a yankee-street gang-yakuza style. You don’t particularly hate it though—it’s a change from the two kind ones that you had spoken with.

—“Oya?” The voice begins, the sound nearing with every millisecond, “What’s this? Daichi has made a kouhai apologise to him?”

You rise and promptly point your gaze at the newcomer. Yankee, indeed…. Or perhaps not, but his appearance certainly gave the impression of one. With a buzzcut and an aggressive-yet-teasing look on his face. And that saunter too. But the expression of curiosity and the saunter disappears a split second later however, when the male in question realises that you’re of the opposite gender to him. And he comes practically crying to Suga, pulling him away so you can’t hear him.

…. Except that you can, because he’s not exactly the quietest of people, so you can hear every word he’s saying.

“Agirl?” he whisper-yells to Suga, “I didn’t know you were bringing one today?!”

And of course, Suga whisper-yells back, slapping the yankee-esque male on the back of the head. “You idiot, Tanaka! Of course not! She got lost and I found her at the door!”

Daichi, also watching them intensely, sighs and apologises for their idiocy. You don’t mind it though–it’s amusing to watch. But Daichi glares at them once again and yells at them to return to practice.

(Your lips are curled up again in response to their terrified reactions. Though you do have to admit that the banter is a heavy reminder of the male volleyball team you were good friends with, back in middle school.)

“Tanaka…-san, was it? He’s very wild.”

Daichi hears you of course, and agrees, though he does mention back that the male in question is a good guy. You can’t help but agree with him too, because he was polite enough to apologise after. Because he was polite enough to pull Suga away before talking to him… Even if you can hear him.

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You take a seat at the edge of the stage watching the boys play in a three-vs-three game. It’s an effective form of practice, you think, as the other second-year students greet you. They’re bench players, but they’re not too bothered by that. 

Somehow, you notice, they’re almost relieved. Nevertheless, you greet them in return, introducing yourself politely. 

(You realise that Tanaka and the two third-years don’t know your name yet, but you’ll just have to remember to introduce yourself later.)

You’re somewhat hyper-focused on the game in front of you, watching the ball and the player’s movements with interest. Of the six players on court, two are first years—both in your class. You don’t exactly remember their names, but what you do remember is that neither of them had approached you during the lunch break earlier. The only one you vaguely recognise is the one with glasses—because he’s incredibly tall, and because he was the first to arrive in class after you did. The green-haired male, however, is almost equally as tall as his friend. But his timid appearance and freckles leaves very little presence in a social situation.

(You learn, not long after, that their names are Tsukishima Kei and Yamaguchi Tadashi respectively, both middle blockers whilst in middle school.)

Mid-game, the gym doors open once more to reveal a pretty, third-year female, obviously the manager of the team. And once more does Tanaka swoon. You chuckle quietly at the disruption of the game, and she hears you, greeting you with a wave

“The vice principal was looking for you, I think,” she mentions after approaching you. And you sigh quietly.

“Did you get in trouble on the first day already?” Suga asks you quietly and you sigh again, feeling exhausted.

“Yes and no.”

(Yes, because you did get in trouble for sneaking out onto the rooftop without permission, but no, because you weren’t being punished. Well, not exactly anyway.)

“Come to think of it,” the blue-haired senpai wonders aloud, “didn’t he ask for you to join a club by the end of tomorrow?”

“Geh.”

You slump on the spot. Too immersed in the earlier game, you had completely forgotten about the not-punishment the vice principal had given you. A troublesome assignment, considering you didn’t exactly like talking. Particularly in front of those you weren’t comfortable with, or if you were forced to begin the conversation first. Your reaction doesn’t deter Tanaka though. His eyes sparkle and your mind instinctively thinks ‘oh no’ and before you can even react properly, he grabs your hands and pleads with you.

“Please be our second manager!”

You pull away almost immediately, dusting your hands against your skirt. “Sorry. I refuse.”

(You’re breaking Tanaka, of course, with your denial. But you’re fleeing from everything volleyball related so your response was only a given.)

And then Tsukishima speaks up, after watching and analysing you for minutes straight.

“Why not?” he teases, “You were watching the game quite intensely only moments ago.”

You realise he’s quite like you in this way. Observant and blunt. Though he’s obviously not quiet and awkward, unlike you. And he’s tall,the perfect height for volleyball… Or at least, that’s what your middle school’s boy’s volleyball coach used to say. Granted, you were at average height for your age—perhaps 159 centimetres tall—and your coach still complained. That still didn’t deter you from becoming the best all rounder in the country though. Not to mention that your team also came second in the middle school regional competition after an incredibly close loss to the Nagano Prefecture middle school.

(The fact that you had even gotten that far was a shock to you. Your team wasn’t exactly the most close knit of them, nor were they particularly skilled. You just like to think that every other school in the prefecture that year sucked because they didn’t take the sport seriously…. Or perhaps your expectations were too high? Who knows.)

Beside you, Suga hums, deep in thought. “Why not though? By this time of the school term, most good positions in the clubs are gone already.”

Your skin visibly pales at the sound of your senpai’s words. This was certainlynot going to your plans. It was also unfortunate that you didn’t have any other plans, and joining the girls volleyball team was not an option at all.

So with great hesitance and much to your displeasure, you’re forced to agree.

A/N: I told myself I would post this once I reached 10 chapters. Apparently, I have no self control. No Haikyuu Characters yet, but this is just a prologue… 

TW: Mentions of the word sex/Angry sex, but nothing explicit. Also the MC is sad/lonely.

(Please do let me know if you want to be tagged in this series!)

Prev—Next

Series Masterlist

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Prelude: Lights Out

It’s always the darkest nights that plague the thoughts of the unwilling. Fleeting impurities, flickering against unsuspecting souls and incinerating those who come too close. There are those who flee, out of fear; out of danger, but there are those who linger and remain, out of fear, out of curiosity and out of hope.

You are one of the few who remain. Not in the literal sense, but emotionally; it’s still the same. The decision’s admittedly painful, but as for regrets? You would have none.

You’re moving from Osaka to Miyagi—alone—at the age of 15.

Your parents don’t approve of your decision. Neither does your older sister, the family’s resident bijin, or your clingy younger brother. 

Butbecause volleyball is your life, you don’t spiritually leave. Your soul is tied—tangled—in red around the patterned ball and the sport’s all that you know. 

And for you, that second tangle of ball and string resides in Osaka. 

(Don’t worry about the first—You moved from Hyogo to Osaka at the age of eight. Your initial tangle resides there.)

Granted, the only person you regret leaving behind is your younger brother. Little Yuki-e doesn’t deserve his parent’s mistreatment. You feel very little for your elder sister, whose bijin-ness often led to her picking on you to make her appear more likeable.

(Pathetic, really.)

It took months of pleading. Months of pleading and pledges and near-perfect behaviour to convince your parents to allow you to move to Miyagi with your Aunt Rin, who regrettably lived alone following the death of her husband two years prior. Of all members of your admittedly small family, she was the kindest.

(You vaguely remember the times of your childhood when you got along with your sister. A time before your four-year-old brother was born. A time when your parents smiled and frequently visited Miyagi for weekend getaways, and you smile wistfully at the last framed photograph on the small, decorated table by the door.)

You leave all your countless awards and trophies in your room, now padlocked four times over to prevent your money-hungry sister from laying her grubby hands on them in exchange for more cosmetics and make your way down the hallway of your childhood home, memorising the creamy colour of white on the walls, the countless paintings and wall decorations that screamed wealth; and the dusty, elaborate Bohemian crystal chandeliers that hung over you. Your fingertips trace over the small coloured markings on the kitchen door frame, blinking quietly at the lowest, dated ‘5 years old’ in your messy handwriting. 

(110 CM.)

Your gaze slowly rises and lands on the highest mark on the doorframe—’10 years old’, it states, ’136.1 centimetres’. Your lips curl up quietly again. 

(You remember arguing with your father that the one millimetre was still a part of your height, and not to make you shorter than you already were. You remember your father laughing at you with his eyes crinkling, and his warm hand ruffling your head; your then-15-year-old sister huffing in defiance.)

And you reach into your coat pocket, feeling for the four-coloured pen you had stuffed in there and measure yourself once more. Turning, you write two final lines just beneath the one you draw.

15. Moving to Miyagi.

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Your parents don’t bid you goodbye as you leave. 

Your sister is once again out of the house, likely at the nail saloon or on a date with one of the numerous boys she’s picked up from who knows where. Your father’s in his study, and the scent of his expensive cigarettes wafts from the small gap of the open door as you pass by. You don’t recognise the brand, but you know it’s expensive all the same. And all you do is peer through the gap and stare, memorising his facial features with ease. Your father sits upon the kingly study chair, wine glass in one hand, and a nib-point in the other. His pile of paperwork sits on the mahogany desk before him, and you turn away.

(The reason why your family’s falling apart.)

Your mother is in the bathroom—you can hear the shower water running—and you sigh quietly. This was the third night in a row she was heading out. And she probably wouldn’t be back until at least 3AM. Like she did the previous three days. Like she did whenever she went out. You never bothered finding out where exactly she was headed on most nights, but you knew your sister knew.

Machiru. The pride of the family. Your mother’s confidant. 

Not that it mattered to you anyway.

The room you do enter is Yuki-e’s. Your younger brother. The product of your parent’s angry sex. The child they never wanted. It wasn’t as if you were appreciated either, but Yuki-e was far too young to need that experience. That sense of uselessness. That sense of being unwanted. 

Knocking quietly, you mutter out to Yuki’s nanny.  

“May I come in?”

The responding voice is sweet and gentle. Not quite like your own.

“Young master Yuki-e is sleeping, Lady (Y/N). If it doesn’t bother you that he is, you can come in.”

You open the door as quietly as you can. The nanny, Lana or Rana, is a half-Japanese, half-American woman of roughly eight years Machiru’s senior. And she smiles at you.

“You’re leaving tonight aren’t you, Lady (Y/N)?”

It’s a terrifyingly quiet statement and all you can do is nod mutely. Your eyes don’t leave Yuki’s bed however, and she places a gentle hand against your back to usher you closer. Your head turns and you meet her eyes in a silent thanks, reaching into your backpack for the Bulbasaur plush you know he’s always loved. It’s a gift for him. And the letter too, which you pass over to Lana with a murmur of, “No need to address me with the term ‘Lady’. I am, after all, as far as possible from being one.”

Lana says nothing as you lean over Yuki-e and press a soft kiss to his smooth cheek. And as predicted, the boy doesn’t awaken. Sitting up, you smooth the hair from his forehead.

“He’ll be sad when he discovers you’re gone, (Y/N)-san.”

You don’t say anything about the suffix added to your name. You know. You know better than anyone in the household that Yuki-e would be upset. You just hope that the sadness doesn’t become anger. But you can’t say that aloud. Instead, you say—

—“Look after him. I’m sorry I can’t take him with me.”

You don’t look back as you leave the room, volleyball spinning in your hands. 

(What you don’t hear are her last whispered words, “I hope your time there is better than your time here.”)

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The chauffeur at the gate greets you and you nod back, loading the few bags and the suitcase in the rear of the black Bentley.

Seiji is a man in his 60’s, a chauffeur, a grandfather and a soon-to-be retiree. This is the final time he’ll be serving the (L/N) household. Like you, he’s headed back to Miyagi to live out his retirement with his son, who’s name you’re not acquainted with. The Bentley is to be a gift for your aunt. Seiji’s gift is something far grander—His own property on the edge of the countryside town, close to one of his high school friends.

It still amazes you that he’s managed to keep in contact for that long. 

Your father’s a good person at heart and he cares for his employees. And Seiji’s a good man; kind and gentle and loving. Like Lana. So it’s only natural that he’s rewarded. But it leaves you slightly bitter, wishing that your father was just as kind to you and your younger brother as much as he cared for his employees and your elder sister.

(Silently, you wonder where your mother sits in this broken hierarchy. Regrettably, she seems much like a trophy wife now.)

You take the passenger seat at the front.

It’s a long drive to Miyagi from Osaka. More specifically, just beyond 10 hours of continuous driving. The trip with Seiji is silent, aside from the quiet, no-nonsense music in the background and the frequent beep-boopingof the game you’re playing. But it has always been like this between you and Seiji, and the ‘silence’ never bothered you. And for that you were thankful, because the noise from your family was enough.

(Arguments between your elder sister and your father. Between your mother and your father. Your father really was the centre of all things, wasn’t he?)

Seiji was—is—your personal driver. One you would no longer need once you arrived in Miyagi. But he understood that you were not simply tossing him aside. You needed a change of pace. A change of location where ‘no one’ would recognise you. But Seiji would forever be your grandfather figure. Because of all the thousands of people in the world, Seiji was the one person you trusted. Countless times he had driven you to places with no destination in silence while you cried. You trusted him with all your quiet places; you trusted him with your darkest secrets, and you trusted him with your silence.

You fall asleep as the car drives past the dusking sky, forehead leaning against the window.

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The Bentley pulls into Tokyo six hours later and Seiji wakes you, informing you that you would be spending the night in a hotel while he slept in the car. 

(It was something he insisted on. And there was no arguing against Seiji when he was like that.)

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The black, fabric face mask you wear is your new signature style. 

You refuse to allow your identity to be revealed, and you check into the hotel this way. The receptionist hardly spares you a glance as she directs you to your hotel room and passes you your key. Not that it mattered much to you—you would be out of there by 9AM anyway.

(It’s a mid-range hotel. There was never a need for anything higher quality when you were only to stay for the night. Was high quality even a factor for anything? You were grateful enough if there was running clean water, a clean bed, and a roof over your head. You didn’t need the grand splendour of the riches and wealth your family had.)

And at 9AM did you check out with nothing more than the shoulder bag you brought with you the previous night.

It takes another five hours to arrive in Miyagi (or rather, to reach the sign that calls you home—“Welcome to Miyagi!”), and another 10 minutes to reach your aunt’s home, close to the epicentre and shopping district of the country precinct. But the minute your aunt’s house comes into view is when you’re finally feeling the nervous fear that comes with moving alone to another place—even if that place is just a measly 10-and-a-half hours away from where you had come from.

(You try to ignore the fact that you had practically moved halfway across the country; to a place you hadn’t been to for over five years, but details.)

Your aunt greets you at the driveway, excited at the prospect of someone living with her.

“Welcome home, (Y/N)-chan!”, is her over-the-top greeting, warm smiles and a bouquet of flowers in her hand. You smile wobbly. Nervously. 

‘Welcome home’, she says, as if you’d been living with her your entire life. She hands you the bouquet of flowers, and your wobbly smile becomes less wobbly.

Aunt Rin ushers both you and Seiji inside, suggesting that the older man take a break while she directs you to your room. Your aunt owns a modest two-storey home, with a balcony hanging off the side of the two upper bedrooms—one of which now belongs to you. It’s cleaned up nicely, obviously a job of a few days’ worth and you feel the appreciation slowly creeping in.

Between you and Aunt Rin, your five bags are brought upstairs with ease and she leaves you to unpack and rearrange, calling—asking—Seiji if he wished for a cup of tea.

(He agrees, of course. Anyone can get Seiji with a cup of tea. The man himself once called himself a ‘tea connoisseur’, much to your amusement.)

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Aunt Rin knows of the reason for your move to Miyagi. She understands the pain of being in the spotlight. Like you, she shows no appreciation for the media and the hype up of an individual. And she knows better than anyone of the pain of being in the spotlight. 

After all, she’s a retired model for several famous companies. 

You’ve seen her work—Aunt Rin has always had this kind of ethereal beauty, one that doesn’t particularly stand out but somehow manages to steal the spotlight anyhow. And she had once described your fashion of beauty in the same way. 

Once, when you saw her two years ago following your uncle’s death.

(To quote her indirectly, she had mentioned to one of her model friends that your beauty was very similar to her own, quiet and calm, whilst Machiru had the beauty of your mother—loud and exuberant. You’re not offended—you’d rather be like Aunt Rin than your mother anyway.)

And so when she returns to your new room moments later and hands you a new sim card for your phone, you accept immediately. And she gathers you into a hug and you melt into her arms. 

“Thank you,” you mutter quietly, tearing up at the warmth.

“You’re welcome,” she responds before pulling away several moments later, and holds you by your shoulders, “I’m gonna look after you from here on out, so look after me too, okay?”

Sniffing, you nod and wipe the tears from your eyes. And she smiles gently. 

You’re far too young to have all this pressure placed on you.

Despite barely knowing you, Aunt Rin knows you better than your closest family members do. Perhaps it’s because she sees herself in you. Perhaps it’s because she knows that the older members of your closest family don’t treat you the way you deserve. And yet she knows you’re wildly different from her. You’re emotionally stronger than her, after all. And she admires that part of you—even if you don’t notice it.

“I’m going to take Seiji to his new home now, okay? Feel free to set up your room and wander around the town when you’re done. Don’t worry about getting lost—I know my way around this area, so don’t hesitate to call me if you get lost, alright?”

You nod, and she leaves once again, passing you a key to the house when she does so. 

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Aunt Rin’s house is eerily silent without her prescence. 

You honestly don’t have many items aside from the handful of clothes you had brought to Miyagi. After all, a new start was a new start, right? Because aside from your volleyball and the colour of your bedsheets—a patterned cat quilt cover, red in colour—your room was rather bare.

Nevertheless, you exit your room to wander the house several times over, memorising the layout in a couple of rounds. 

And then you stare at the house door. Nervously.

Leaving the house meant communicating with others, and you quietly sigh, slipping your sneakers on and your mask to your face. Returning to your room, you spy the house key upon your table and sigh. 

You’d have to buy a keychain if you wanted to ensure that it’d always be with you.

❅❅❅❅❅❅❅❅❅❅❅❅❅❅❅❅❅❅❅❅❅❅❅❅❅❅❅❅❅❅❅❅❅❅❅❅❅❅❅❅❅❅❅❅❅❅❅❅❅❅❅

And the light you had once shone so brightly in Osaka flickers and fades to darkness. 

Stage Play

A Haikyuu Various x Fem!Reader fic

Multiple Endings; Angst + Fluff

Summary: In which you’re pseudo-famous and run from the media to restart your life in Miyagi.

Trigger Warnings: Negligent parents, slight themes of Depression in early chapters, (Y/N) matures too fast, bullying (past)

Romantic Interests: Oikawa, Iwaizumi, Kindaichi, Kunimi, Futakuchi, Aone, Kuroo, Kenma, Yaku, Lev, Yamamoto, Daichi, Sugawara, Kageyama, Hinata, Nishinoya, Yamaguchi, Tsukishima, Tanaka, Asahi, Ennoshita, Akaashi, Bokuto, Osamu, Atsumu, Kita, Suna.

Other Locations Published: Quotev || AO3

Date Started:5/1/2022 — TBA

✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧

0. Prelude—Lights Out

1. Act 1.1—Satō (Y/N)

2. Act 1.2—Glass Cannon

Tobio Kageyama VS Tooru Oikawa - △ University Student

DISCLAIMER: I am not fluent in Japanese and the translations are not 100% accurate, so there may be lots of inaccuracies. Please let me know if there’s any mistakes I made in the translation!

Please do not repost my translations anywhere else!

A Tobio Kageyama and a Tooru Oikawa story from the HQ FBS △ University Student series

Read below!

The last panel is the artist’s information!

hello everyone (yet again, i hope?)!!
as usually im skeptical of some of the words in here so feel free to correct me
kags is just mumbling in the 2nd page
kags is so cute fhsdfasdf yes ill take u home get in the van-
also,,,uhhh,,,500 followers?!?! as in,,,½ of 1k??? can i math??
THAT’S CRAZY!!! m literally so touched thank you all for indulging in my nonsense and thank you to those who were so helpful to me
THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THE SUPPORT!!! have an edited panel as a token of my appreciation

^ ARTWORK DOES NOT BELONG TO ME
Credits: Nejimaki Kagyu (By Atsushi Nakayama)

Thank you for reading!

[TAGLIST]:@nachotrash@fsgr-megumi@kirakirasaku@jovialsweetshottub@shsluwu@blossomingwaifu16@xedspirits@the3rdstalltoilet

purple hyacinth, part three

kageyama tobio was only supposed to deliver the weapons to ushijima’s best customer once every two weeks. he wasn’t supposed to fall in love with you—law student by day, top dancer and escort at washijo tanji’s club by night. when you ask the impossible of him, kageyama has to choose: his life or yours.

pairing: adlers underboss kageyama tobio x escort fem!reader (with hair), part three of three ; 7.2k, nsfw (18+, mdni)

warnings:depictions of sex work, actual murder, implied sexual abuse; the sex is tame, kageyama’s still and will forever be a simp

thanks to:@anime-nymphand@vanille–kiss for coming up with the ideas for me and helping me look into ways to murder and dick kageyama down like friends should LOL <3 also for betaing, and vani for the amazing banner as always!

written in conjuction with:@mrskenmakozume’ssimp me not collab! i had m for mafia :’)

part one||part two||part three||mafia au masterlist
bosses:black petunia||red peony||white lily
underbosses:pink magnolia||orange rose

Creating a plan is easy. Executing is the hard part.

No matter how well he plans or thinks of all the variables, humans aren’t predictable. Their schedules may be, their mannerisms can be studied and copied, but when presented with the possibility of death, everything can go haywire in a split second.

That’s why Kageyama knows it’s important to bend the outcome to his will.

After years under Ushijima’s liege and working in the Adlers clan, he knows exactly what to do. Remove outside variables, craft a plan that’s solid enough, and make sure the evidence is in your favor. Murder is easy. It’s simple enough for him to wait for a target, grab their neck from behind, and snap it in one swift movement. What happens after is the tricky part: making them disappear, making sure there are no traces of his presence left, making sure the police lose leads quickly and never pick them up again.

It takes him a few days to come up with the plan, and another two days to work on the kinks, but by the end of the week, Washijo Tanji is a dead man walking with only a few months left to live.

Kageyama’s involvement is easy.

All he has to do is continue coming every two weeks like clockwork, which is where he currently is. He sits in Washijo’s office, listening as the man brags about his “perfect” yacht, another girl he brought under his wing to “mentor”, and how you have a renewed spirit ever since he struck some sense into you. Kageyama’s hands tighten in his slacks as Washijo praises your work ethic, and it’s hard to keep his face completely plain when he laments,

“Sorry. I know you have a thing for our Daisy, but she’s out there fucking around on you, huh?”

Kageyama doesn’t say anything. He only nods and lets Washijo ramble about going out on his boat again this coming weekend.

Because Kageyama’s first target isn’t Washijo Tanji, but the bodyguard who stands outside the door to keep others out: Saitou Akira.

Akira is as predictable in his routine as anyone else. Every afternoon he gets an iced cafe latte and sandwich from Doutor. Every other day he visits the gym for almost two hours before showering and going back to his apartment. Once a week he visits the movie theater close to his place, and he shops at the local market multiple times a week, friendly with the old woman who runs the business. Every night, he takes the subway to work before acting as Washijo’s lapdog, keeping poor and needy women under lock and key.

There are plenty of people who need extra money, so it’s easy to find some underground fighters to do his dirty work. Kageyama makes sure that Akira doesn’t see his face, but he supervises the hit. One early afternoon movie, one abandoned alleyway by his apartment, one too many punches and kicks, and Saitou Akira lays broken and battered on the cold ground. It’s Kageyama who calls the ambulance from a burner phone, discarding it as soon as he hears the sirens coming from the distance.

When he steps into Ushijima’s office to discuss contraband business later that night, Kageyama clears his throat.

“Washijo is requesting one of our members to act as his bodyguard for the time being, Boss.”

“Where is his bodyguard?” Ushijima asks as he looks up from a file containing pictures of the next shipment. “Saitou Akira, wasn’t it?”

“He is currently in the hospital after being attacked earlier this afternoon.”

The Adlers’ boss studies Kageyama, his dark brown eyes all-knowing as they analyze Kageyama’s calm expression. Kageyama Tobio isn’t an idiot—he knows Ushijima can see right through him. He always has, starting from the night he approached him at the convenient store, to now when he leans back in his chair with a hum.

“Why is he requesting our assistance?”

“He says he trusts us thanks to our long-standing relationship.”

Ushijima goes silent at Kageyama’s lie, finger tapping on the top of the desk as he considers the fake proposal. The room feels suffocating, closing in the longer Ushijima thinks without uttering a word. Kageyama feels sweat drip down the back of his neck, and his hands clench and unclench again, but he keeps his face absolutely stoic until Ushijima nods.

“Take Sokolov. He’ll fit in with Washijo’s clientele anyway.”

Kageyama bows his head and turns toward the door, but Ushijima calls his name and makes him turn around again.

“Don’t bite off more than you can chew,” Ushijima warns evenly, his tone light and unmatching his serious expression. “If you do, you will be saying hello to Hoshiumi.”

“Of course, Boss.”

Kageyama bows his head again, avoiding Ushijima’s piercing stare as he shuffles from the room, his first part of the job complete.

ⵈ ⵈ ⵈ ⵈ ⵈ ⵈ

“We heard about what happened,” Kageyama says as soon as he sits down in front of Washijo’s desk. Today the man is jumpier than usual, his old face looking even angrier and ashen than normal. Kageyama sets the briefcase on contraband on the desk before clearing his throat. “To Akira-san.”

“Those fucks are after me and my money,” Washijo grumbles, just like Kageyama expected. It’s why he paid the assailants handsomely to demand information on Washijo as they beat Akira within an inch of his life, after all.

“Ushijima would like to offer you a replacement for the time being.” The lie quickly gets Washijo’s attention. The man turns with a curious lift to his eyebrow. “Since you’ve been a valuable customer, it’s the least we can do.”

“As you should,” Washijo hums. “I pay you good money after all. Who do you have?”

As soon as Washijo sees the picture of the Adlers member, Kageyama knows he has him. Sokolov is tall, large, and has a meanness in his resting face that could scare off even the worst opponents. Kageyama knows it’s all a front, that Sokolov is actually a touchy-feely drunkard who loves men and women a little too much, but Washijo doesn’t, and that’s all that matters. The man readily agrees to have Sokolov watch over him until Akira is out of the hospital and fully recovered, whenever that may be.

“I’m sure it won’t be much longer than a few weeks,” Washijo says.

Kageyama knows that isn’t true, because he paid a little extra to make sure Akira’s hand was smashed enough that it would need rehab for at least three months.

When he bows and leaves Washijo’s office, he locks eyes with you immediately. You’re on stage, already halfway through your routine, breasts barely covered as you shimmy around the pole. You keep your gaze on him the entire time, a sly smile on your face as your clothes come off one by one the longer the song continues, until you’re finishing your set and disappearing into the backroom. Kageyama knows to follow, the night already paid for, the guards moving aside after so many times visiting.

He’s not even two steps into the room before you’re on him, your arms wrapped around his neck and your lips hastily pressed against his. Kageyama welcomes you, kicking the door closed behind him so no one can see, wrapping an arm around your waist to keep you close. He’s the one who purchased an hour of your time, but you’re the one kissing him like it’s not long enough, like if you don’t touch him now, you’ll never be able to again.

“Hey—” He tries when you pull away to breathe, but a quick shake of your head renders him silent.

“I want to forget,” you whisper before leaning forward again to fulfill your wish.

His lips only leave yours to tug his clothes off, yours following with barely a push on his hands. Your body is slightly sticky from your performance earlier but he doesn’t care, not when you sound so good moaning as he kisses and licks the column of your neck. His cock is hard and pulsing against your thigh, and though you’ve slept together a few times already, he’s still lost whenever he’s with you.

Your breathy sounds spur him lower, his tongue and lips wet as they slip down to your chest to take a nipple into his mouth. He knows how you like it now, knows how to make you arch into him and grind against his throbbing length for more friction. That’s exactly what you do when he sucks and circles with his tongue, fingers trailing lower to squeeze at your stomach. You part your legs for his wandering hand, and keen when his fingers brush your folds. You aren’t wet enough to push inside yet, so he offers his fingers to you, wordlessly begging you to open. You listen, hooded eyes on him as you suck his fingers like you would his cock, tongue running along the length and around the knuckles until a string of saliva is left when he pulls them out.

Kageyama is careful when he pushes his fingers inside, first one until you’re wet enough, then two just like you like. He already knows how to fuck you—as if you’ve trained him to always provide, and he’s happy to obey. His fingers scissor and curl until you’re a moaning mess, and when he moves his mouth from your stomach to your clit, you whimper his name. Shit, he loves that, loves how you make his name sound perfect, the end syllable lost to a needy ‘oh’ that’s drawn out as he sucks and licks your nub.

He works you until you’re practically humping his fingers, your fingers threaded in his hair to keep him on your clit. Kageyama knows you’re close by the way you gasp for breath, walls clamping down around his fingers as he fucks you. When he sucks harder, circling with the tip of his tongue before flicking over it, you cum all over him with a few lengthy moans. This is his favorite part: watching you fall apart for him, your lips parted, body warm and shuddering, thighs clenching next to his head as pleasure overwhelms you.

When you finally relax and sink into the plush bed, Kageyama pulls away, trying to catch his own breath. He’s about to blow just from your taste, and it grows worse when you beckon him between your legs. Once his cock glides against your swollen and glistening folds, you both make a quiet sound. He does it again, pitching your legs up so your feet are on the bed and you can match his pace.

“Fuck,” you whisper when he bumps your swollen clit with the head of his cock. “Tobio, please, now, I need you.”

You need him. He’ll never admit it, but those words send his heart soaring. Ushijima doesn’t need him—not really. If he betrayed the boss like Hoshiumi, he’d be six feet under and there would be another underboss within a day. His sister doesn’t need him either; though she calls nearly everyday, Miwa is busy with her salon, the one he helped her purchase. His parents never came back for him, his grandfather left the world a year ago, and the universities he applied to didn’t bother asking him to apply again. The only person Kageyama had was himself, keeping afloat in a world that never welcomed him.

Butyou.

You fish a condom out of the drawer to your right, and once it’s open and rolled on his cock, he pushes in. You make the most beautiful sound—a mix between a choke and a groan, your head tilting back as he bottoms out, pulls out, then does it again. Kageyama knows the positions you like by now, knows how you want to be fucked, but tonight he wants things hisway. He wants to memorize every pinch of your nose, the flush on your cheeks; wants to watch his cock disappear into your hole, slick with your juices thanks to how wet you are; wants to lean down and tilt your head up with a firm hand on your neck, making you meet his messy lips in a kiss full of tongues and moans.

The bed creaks with his movements, your breath hot on his face as you gasp his name. Your walls pulse around him as he moves faster, angling his hips to hit that spot you like, the one that makes you tilt your head back so he can lick and bite at the column of your throat. His fingers grab at your nipples, twisting and pulling with his urgency, goosebumps rising on his flesh when your pussy squeezes him and signals your looming orgasm. He’s the one that finishes first, burying himself into you when his orgasm slams into him faster than a bullet. His hips keep shallowly thrusting until he fully empties himself in the condom, his sweaty forehead pressed against your shoulder as he comes down from his high.

Your needy whine spurs him on, and he bites around your shoulder and neck as his trails his hand down. He helps you with a finger on your clit, rubbing circles until you’re tugging at his hair painfully as you lose yourself a second time. It’s hard to see at this angle, but he can hearyou: your moans right in his ear, your whines of his name, the way you pant and mewl and groan for him.

He stays like that for a moment, savoring the peace and quiet he barely gets anywhere else. Your heartbeat is fast but slowing, lulling him into a sense of security he hasn’t felt in a long time. Only when you shift and jokingly complain about him being heavy does he move, pulling himself from you, tying the condom off, and throwing away the evidence of your tryst. When he turns back back, you’re already slipping your see-through thin robe back on, not bothering to clothe yourself otherwise.

You flit around the room, grabbing the hair dryer Kageyama brought you last time from the drawer of the desk. You place it on top of the desk, next to a crystal statue of a swan that Washijo bought for you on the first boat ride. He spotted the little microphone inside immediately, barely a minute after you told him about Washijo’s “gift.” He’s trying to spy on Alders business—and yourbusiness—but with one flick of a button, your conversation will be drowned out by the ringing of the hair dryer.

You look beautiful as you saunter back over, and Kageyama has to force himself to pay attention when you beckon him over to the edge of the bed to sit next to you.

Now it’s time to discuss why he’s really here.

“We’ve been on the boat twice,” you tell him with a sigh, running a hand down your face as if you don’t want to remember. “Last time, I had to ‘earn my ride’.”

Your meaning doesn’t go unnoticed by him, and hot shame streaks in Kageyama’s stomach thanks to what he’s forcing you to do. Everyone has their role, and yours happens to be making Washijo invite you out on his boat over and over, no matter how you have to make it happen.

“Sorry,” Kageyama grunts, unsure of what else to say. He feels extremely awkward, sitting here in the nude, the high of your meeting fading into a coldness that he’s sure you feel too.

“I’m doing this willingly,” you remind him, just like you’ve reminded him multiple times since you concocted the plan on that stormy night in your apartment. With Washijo inviting you to his yacht again, that means the plan is going smoothly. “He asked me to come again next weekend.”

Kageyama nods. “A place for me to hide?”

“I’m still looking for the perfect spot, but there’s a pantry in the hold that I think you can fit into.”

“Cameras?”

You shake your head. “What happens on the boat, stays on the boat.” The sharp look you give him nearly makes him shudder. “Drugs, booze, and everything otherwise.”

Kageyama exhales, ruffling his sweaty bangs, trying to will away the image of you and Washijo together. It already haunts him when he sleeps—that, and the betrayed look on your face when he couldn’t do anything the night Washijo slapped you. It springs up the minute he closes his eyes, boring a hole into his skull until he wakes up in the middle of the night, head pounding and phone lighting up with a text from Ushijima about something you need to take care of.

“Check the harbor next time. Once our job is done, the police will pull the footage.” For usual Alders’ business, Ushijima asks their hired hand to wipe the evidence with the few clicks of her mouse. Since this isn’t Alders’ business, he has to go old school. “You have to get him—

“—on the boat the day before his contract ends. I know.”

An unspoken word passes between you as you stare at each other. There’s still about two months left, and he knows how difficult it is for you to let Washijo touch you. To let him think you’re loyal once more after the beating and abuse he gave you. Kageyama’s heart drops when you pull your gaze from his, and he reaches out, running a hand underneath your chin to tilt your head up. Your gasp is soft, almost drowned out by the whirring of the hair dryer. He isn’t sure what to say to make you feel better; he’s not sure there is anything he can say to take your pain away.

So Kageyama leans forward and places his lips on yours, soft, sweet, delicate. And you kiss him back just as tentatively, eyes slipping shut as he tells you everything he wants to say without breathing a word.

ⵈ ⵈ ⵈ ⵈ ⵈ ⵈ

Kageyama isn’t sure if time passes quickly or slowly.

The days go quickly when he runs Ushijima’s errands, oversees Futakuchi and Aone’s work, and goes to the meetings of the clan leaders. They’re good distractions, because whenever he’s back in his apartment, time slows to a crawl, the ticking of the clock in the corner ringing in his skull.

He goes to the club, the restaurant, your private room. He meets Ushijima, Washijo, you. He goes back home and pretends he isn’t dying to off Washijo early. Now that it’s early summer, he’s taking his yacht out more often, rubbing it in his face every time they meet. Daisy is a little tease. Always knows what to say to earn another ride, doesn’t she? Can’t let anyone have her, she’s far too valuable.

Kageyama sits there, eyes focused on the pictures on the back wall. Washijo has one now that’s him standing next to his yacht, a proud smile on his face, the name Highwindnow in new shiny black font on the side. While Washijo rambles about the gun he bought this week, Kageyama imagines how he’ll feel when he finally climbs abroad himself in a few weeks. Excited? Nervous? Righteous? Now that he’s been in the Adlers so long, he’s grown used to violence, used to making someone “disappear” as easily as tricking the idiot sitting across from him. Will it be just another day at the office? Or will he finally be free of the torment of helplessness, knowing that he finally freed you and the other girls from your shackles?

“Isn’t that right, Kageyama?”

He blinks back into focus, glancing at Washijo. The old man looks like he’s expecting some kind of answer, but since Kageyama couldn’t care to listen, he can only stutter, “Sorry?”

“You’re not very bright, are you?” Washijo’s snort is pitying. “I asked if you know the reason I keep so many firearms on me.” Kageyama isn’t even finished shaking his head before Washijo rambles, “It’s because of the power. No one will dare question me with two barrels pointed right at their face, right? Not even you.”

“That’s right, sir.”

“Good, good, I’m glad you agree.” Washijo sets down the rifle and smiles in a way Kageyama wishes he wouldn’t. “Tell Ushijima-san that I’ll be extending our business contract in two months. I expect he’ll show up himself for the re-signing.”

“Of course, sir.”

“Good, now get out of my sight.”

Washijo dismisses him as easily as his girls, and Kageyama remains absolutely stoic as he bows his goodbye and exits the office. He gives Sokolov a nod as he passes by, taking a seat in the furthest booth so he can wait for you to appear on stage. As the music and lights pulse around him, Kageyama has to contain a laugh. After nearly a year of dealings, Washijo thinks he has the upperhand. Because of his money, because of his patronage, because of the contract—whatever the reasoning, he thinks of Kageyama as no more than one of his workers, someone under his tutelage that can be easily bossed around.

Only he’s forgetting who the Adlers really are, and Kageyama is more than happy to remind Washijo who he is dealing with.

Kageyama starts counting down by the Fridays he comes to see you.

Two weeks.

Four weeks.

Six weeks.

And then the day is here, a Saturday in July that is sweltering and muggy, perfect for a day away from the crowded city heat. He finishes his jobs easily, getting the blessing from Ushijima to go to the Kanagawa Prefecture to “celebrate” the end of Washijo’s contract on his yacht. Tomorrow, Ushijima will walk into Il Giardino, re-sign Washijo to another year long contract for contraband, and seal your fate. That’s why tonight has to go perfectly.

Kageyama stops at the store, picking up food and drinks that make it look like he’s going to a celebration. He makes sure his face is visible in the CCTV as he walks to the Highwind, climbing on board like he was invited. He ducks down inside, away from the cameras, away from the lies, and hides the fake groceries where Washijo won’t check. Inside the bag sit a pair of black gloves and a pocket knife for later, if everything goes right.

This is the part of the plan that’s the most tentative: Washijo can’t find him before the night is over; you have to be the perfect actress and feed him drinks while you fawn over him; your stories have to be solid when the police come knocking. There are a lot of variables Kageyama can’t control, things he can’t be 100% certain of—but there are things he can predict, such as Washijo’s penchant for wanting to “relax” with copious amounts of drinks and drugs, just like you told him over the last two months.

As soon as he hears Washijo’s voice, the shuffle of feet, and the rock of the boat as they climb abroad, Kageyama slips into the small pantry you mentioned weeks ago to hide. His heart thunders in his chest, louder than the heavy footsteps coming down into the kitchen that definitely don’t belong to you or Sokolov. Washijo talks to someone about club business—someone underpaying here, someone becoming a regular patron there—but it goes over Kageyama’s head. He’s too busy holding the pantry door shut as Washijo’s footsteps and sounds come closer and closer to his hiding spot. He can’t breathe, his lungs tight as Washijo’s voice drifts closer then further away again, only to return even closer than before.

Just when something heavy hits the table top, your voice cuts in like a saving grace. “Washijo-sama! Why are you making your own drink? Let me!”

“Finally,” Washijo grumbles. There’s a clang that Kageyama recognizes as an ice scoop. “I thought you’d never finish changing.”

“Do you like it? I bought it for you.”

It burns Kageyama’s veins to hear your giggle, to imagine what you’re wearing for someone other than him. Is it a new dress? A new swimsuit? He’s never seen you in a bathing suit, but he has seen you in far less. That’s what he thinks about to calm down, imagining the way you smile for him, whisper his name, and run your fingers through his hair as he leans against your shoulder and pretends you’re not both trapped in your choices.

“I’d like it far better off.”

Kageyama grips the pantry door handle so hard it starts shaking, but your flirty gasp and giggle mask the rattle. “Washijo-sama! Not until we get a drink to celebrate.”

One drink becomes two, becomes three. He can hear the roar of the motor as the yacht moves out to the ocean, the vessel rocking with the light waves of the summer breeze. He can smell the food you cook later, hear the sizzle of the meat mingled with the sounds of you mixing drink after drink for Washijo to become belligerent. Later he even overhears Washijo peeing, the owner complaining to himself that Sakusa’s cocaine was taking too long to have an effect before he stomped back upstairs to the deck.

Still Kageyama doesn’t move. He’s had it worse, like the time he spent days on a stakeout for Ushijima when some of his product went missing. With frequent cracks in the door for more oxygen, he sits perched in that pantry, waiting for the signal to come out to complete his mission for the night.

It comes in the form of your overexaggerated laugh.

“Oh, Washijo-sama, this view is to diefor!”

Kageyama is sure it is, because it’s going to be the last thing Washijo Tanji sees.

He’s quiet as he grabs the gloves and knife from the grocery bag, then creeps up the steps to the deck, catching the eye of Sokolov through the circular window in the door. Sokolov nods and moves out of sight, off to grab a bucket full of water to carry out his part of the plan. Kageyama dons the black gloves and remains still until Sokolov passes by again, this time not looking into the stairwell as he goes. He only needs to wait another minute until there’s a knock on the wall—the signal that everything is ready for him.

The door doesn’t even make a sound as Kageyama slips from it, his footsteps lost to the sounds of the waves and the boat rocking. You don’t even acknowledge him as he walks closer, but Kageyama knows you’ve seen him. You pull Washijo closer, murmuring something that Kageyama can’t hear, before you lean forward and kiss the old man.

It’s the perfect distraction. The perfect bait.

Washijo doesn’t even sense it coming when Kageyama grabs the back of his neck and wrestles him down, sticking him face first in the bucket of ocean water.

The old man flails for his life, kicking and jerking, managing to clip Kageyama in the leg with his boots. Even though his shin radiates with pain, the Adlers’ underboss doesn’t move. He holds Washijo’s head down, watching in disinterest as the old man scratches at Kageyama’s covered arms to no avail, as he fights the bubbling water for his quickly fading life. Eventually the jerks become less frequent, the bubbles less violent, and then they go silent all together. Washijo’s body slumps forward and doesn’t move, even when Kageyama lifts his hand and takes a step back. He stays there, unmoving, arms and legs bent awkwardly with his face down in the bucket.

Washijo Tanji is dead.

When Kageyama glances up, both Sokolov and you are staring at him. Sokolov nods and moves forward, grabbing Washijo’s lifeless body and dragging it over to the side of the yacht. Kageyama doesn’t even watch Sokolov throw it overboard; his eyes are on you instead, on the redness around your eyes from stinging tears, on the way your chest heaves for breath, on the way you catch his questioning gaze and give him a stiff nod before springing to action.

You have a job to do.

While you run off to grab your phone to call the coast guard, Kageyama grabs a pocket knife and grabs the life preserving ring that sits on the deck. He quickly saws at the rope keeping it tied aboard, fraying the center to make it look like the rope snapped during rescue. It can’t take too long because Kageyama can hear your frantic voice, begging the coast guard to hurry and come because your boss drunkenly fell overboard and is floating away.

When Kageyama is done, he turns to Sokolov.

“Jump.”

The underling listens immediately, not even shrugging out of his expensive suit before he jumps overboard into the ocean. He splashes in the waves, making it look and sound like he tried to rescue Washijo, though the man’s dead body floats further and further away with the tide. Kageyama yells nonsense to Sokolov as he works: grab him! Don’t let him go! Sokolov, come back, we can’t lose you too! It’s all an act—he knows you’re being recorded, knows that his voice will be heard behind your pleading and your begging.

The rope frays enough that Kageyama tugs it apart with his hands, making it look like someone ripped it. He throws it in the water near Sokolov, and the man dunks it a few times before tossing it closer to Washijo’s floating body. It’s far enough away now that the plan will be believable if you can keep the act up, and based on the way you whimper, fake tears roll down your cheeks as you keep talking to the coast guard, Kageyama knows it’s in the bag.

Eventually Sokolov comes back, and Kageyama slips off the gloves to hand them to him. Sokolov dons them, dipping them into the bucket of water before he throws the used water overboard and sets the bucket aside like it was never used. The pocket knife goes next, and the blade makes the faintest plopping sound as it’s swallowed by the water, drifting down into the darkness of the ocean, the last shred of evidence against him buried in dark blue.

Orange and yellow hues reflect off the waves, making the ocean shimmer in the setting sun. He can’t see Washijo’s body anymore, but he can see you. You, standing in the sunlight, the light around your head looking like a halo. You, in a pretty summer dress that ruffles with the breeze, the one Kageyama almost broke the plan to see. You, who is staring at him with wide eyes full of hope, because after months of working, planning, heartache and strife, your hard-fought freedom is finally a reality.

Kageyama has to swallow down the heat that rises up and grips his heart when he reaches out his hand and you immediately take it.

You were right earlier.

The view reallyis to die for.

ⵈ ⵈ ⵈ ⵈ ⵈ ⵈ

The call comes right when Kageyama expects it to. The interview goes just how Kageyama knew it would.

You are allowed together in the cold and dingy interview room, your hands clasped together on top of your lap as you shakily recount the story for the officers.

“Washijo-sama invited us onto the boat to celebrate our engagement earlier that day. I had gone a few times before and thought it would be like all the other times. Only this time, Washijo-sama slipped and…”

Kageyama has to give it to you. The way you turn and bury your head into his shoulder to muffle your tears has his stomach lurching, even though he knows it’s all rehearsed and fake. While you calm down, Kageyama finishes the story: he slipped over while trying to pee off the side; the rope for the life ring snapped; Sokolov tried to save him after that, but Washijo went under too quickly; the waves carried him further out until he was gone forever.

“The body hasn’t been found,” the detective on the right says once Kageyama finishes the tale. “If it is, we’ll call you. Until then… maybe don’t get on any more boats.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Sorry it happened on your engagement day,” the female detective on the left says as she stands. She glances at you pitifully, and that’s when Kageyama knows for certain that the plan was a complete success. “I wish you both luck.”

“You’re too kind,” you recite, watery but thankful.

Kageyama keeps his hand in yours the entire walk back to his car, and he doesn’t let go even as he starts the engine and sets off back to your apartment. As soon as you’re out of the police station parking lot, you squeeze his hand and burst into laughter. It’s a deep-bellied laugh, one that has tears rolling down your cheeks as you gasp for breath, clutching the dashboard in front of you as you duck your head to contain yourself. Your body still racks with tearful laughter, long enough to tell him that these tears are real, raw, and everything you’ve kept inside for the past few years.

He doesn’t say anything as he pulls into the parking lot of your apartment building. When you’ve finally calmed down enough, you squeeze his hand one more time before letting go, muttering at him to follow you. The day is clear, the opposite of when he first followed you inside. The purple hyacinths are gone now too, past their prime for blooming now that the sweltering heat of summer hangs thick over the city. Your apartment is just as sticky, and the silence is drowned out by the whirring of your old air conditioner as you turn it on its highest setting.

“I’ll buy you a new one,” Kageyama mutters.

You pause midstride to the kitchen, turning back to him. You’re no longer crying, but your face is blotchy from your episode in the car, and there’s a scrunch in your brows that shows you’re thinking about how to answer.

“Will you?”

Kageyama nods.

“Before you go?” You ask again, a mirthless smile on your face.

“Huh?”

“Our time together is over. The three months are up. I won’t have a job at the club anymore, so you can’t—”

Kageyama takes a step forward. “What are you saying, dummy?”

“I’m not a dummy.”

“Yes, you are.” The air conditioning whirrs in the background; there’s a vibration in his pocket that’s probably from Ushijima telling him to hurry up. He ignores both to step in front of you. “Your job is… not all I wanted you for.”

“Then what?” Your voice is quiet, the most vulnerable he’s ever seen you, even after planning a murder together. “What do you want, Tobio?”

“You,” he grumbles, heat in his cheeks that he tries to hide by looking off to the dirty dishes on your kitchen counter. “Always just you.”

Your touch is light and tentative as you run your fingertips over his cheek, dancing down to his lips before you exhale. “What if you don’t want me anymore? What if you realize it was all…”

When you don’t continue, he cocks an eyebrow. “All…?”

“I don’t know!” You throw your hands up, turning away from him and setting your hands on your hips. “The thrill of the chase, a chance to help a needy woman, a… fuck, I don’t know, an attraction based on a common goal or something.” You turn back with a pinched expression that punches him right in the gut. “Any of those could be true.”

Kageyama stays quiet, but the phone vibrates one more time. You both ignore it, staring at each other like you’re trying to figure out a complex math equation. You’re not mistaken. Things change, hearts waver, and now that Washijo is dead, the future is murky. But the future is also long, and full of your own choices—something you haven’t had in a long time.

“You know…” The words come out awkwardly squeaky and he has to clear his throat. “I spent a lot of money buying your time.”

His admission makes you snort. “I know that.”

“What I mean is—I just—ugh.” Kageyama ruffles the back of his hair, a scowl on his face. “But now I don’t have to because you have that.”

“Have what?”

“Time.” He looks back at you, hand massaging the back of his neck to ward off the flush and awkwardness spreading through his entire body. “I… well, we. We bought you all the time in the world.”

You look like the cheshire cat, your lips splitting into a grin, a light laugh on your lips that Kageyama is sure is at his expense. He mutters at you to knock it off, but you shake your head, linking your hands together in front of your chest.

“What should I do with my new found time then, Tobio? Travel? Become an influencer? Maybe learn knife throwing?”

“Study. Get your degree since you’re almost done.” He waits for you to nod your confirmation before mumbling, “You can do whatever you want, as long as it’s with me.”

“I’m sorry?”

Your shit-eating grin means you heard him loud and clear, and Kageyama has to contain a groan. He isn’t good at this, not good at vocalizing his feelings or emotions when actions will do just fine. But you look expectant, a happy flush in your cheeks and a smile in your eyes, so he blurts it out anyway.

“Be with me.”

It’s quiet again, and there’s a moment where Kageyama thinks you’ll reject him. His heart is beating out of his chest, his palms sweaty as you take a second to answer, then another, then another. The wait is killing him, silence stretching from seconds to goddamn yearsuntil you finally open your mouth.

“You mean it? You really want me, even though I’m…”

There are a million ways to answer that sentence, and Kageyama can pick a few from the way your brows scrunch and your face crumbles. Broken, hurt, a mess. He’s sure he looked the same on the night Ushijima found him, a boy scared of the future and the pain of living. All he needed was someone to reach out their hand and offer him solace. Kageyama had found it in Ushijima and the Adlers clan.

With a stretched out hand to your direction, Kageyama hopes you find it in him, too.

“If anything, you’re mine.” The confession is clumsy and wooden, sounding foreign to his own ears. “Yes, I do.”

The air conditioner whines in the background; his phone vibrates one more time; you place your hand into his, interlocking your fingers so tightly that he can’t feel them for a second, not that he cares. Because he tugs you close by those same hands, cradling your head as he kisses you breathless, promising to keep his word over and over with slips of tongue and whispers of each other’s names.

Washijo Tanji is forgotten as easily as the garbage, his name sinking to the bottom of the ocean, joining his body in the dark and watery grave.

ⵈ ⵈ ⵈ ⵈ ⵈ ⵈ

His knock on the door is quiet, but Ushijima’s answer is loud.

“Come in.”

The door creaks as he opens it, and Kageyama lets you step into the bosses’ office before following and shutting the door behind him. Ushijima glances up from a few photos on his desk, gesturing at you to take a seat in the leather chair across from his desk. Kageyama stands in front of the door, hands crossed behind his back, the stoic expression of an underboss plastered on his face.

You thank him quietly, fixing your skirt so you can take the offered seat. The ink had barely dried on your license before you called him, begging to meet with the head of the Adlers clan to discuss business. It wasn’t exactly a surprise to Ushijima that you wanted to speak with him, though Kageyama had expected the nonchalant acceptance after breaking the news of Washijo’s death and subsequent contract cancellation months earlier.

Ushijima had barely lifted a brow then, humming before sending Kageyama off with a flick of his fingers. He looks the same now, face plain and unreadable as he leans back in his chair to regard you.

“May I ask why you’ve come?”

“I was hoping to interview for a job opportunity.”

“An opportunity?”

Your voice oozes confidence when you answer, “Yes. I would like to protege under your current lawyer, if you would have me.”

Ushijima hums, glancing down at the pictures before him before asking, “Why?”

“I believe my experiences and expertise would fit in well with your type of clientele.”

“My clientele?”

“At the jazz clubs. Kageyama-san told me you own many around Tokyo and I’m sure you could use another professional who has expertise in dealing with powerful men.”

The Adlers’ boss glances at Kageyama for barely a second before he nods, rifling through a few of the photos. Out of a stack of papers, Ushijima pulls out a clipped newspaper article and slides it your way, tapping a line near the top of the first page. Kageyama doesn’t need to see the contents to know it concerns Washijo’s death. The man’s boat can clearly be seen in the black and white photo, even from his vantage point.

You look down at the article for a moment before looking back up, barely regarding the contents of the news report. “Yes, he was my old boss.”

“And my old client.”

“His accidental drowning must have been hard for some.”

Ushijima’s eyebrows lift in humored surprise before his expression drops back to its neutral mask. The article is gone, placed back in the folder to be forgotten, just like Washijo Tanji has been. It’s replaced with another paper that has your picture on it—a simple background check that Kageyama already told you would happen. You don’t seem fazed at all, your demeanor relaxed but professional.

“You’re a recent graduate.”

“Yes.”

“With plenty of recent volunteer experience.”

“I had more… time in recent months. I’ve been using it well.”

The admission makes Kageyama’s lips twitch in a grin.

Ushijima hums again, reading over your file before tapping the page twice. “I’ll offer you a choice. You can work under my current lawyer for a year to gain experience, or you can leave Tokyo and I will help you find work in another city.”

Kageyama knows it’s because you know too much. You’re too keen on the details of the Adlers, being his woman and working with him in the past. Sending you away will keep the Tokyo police out of their business should you choose to work against them, but allow the Adlers to keep an eye on you anyway. But on the other hand, if you choose to stay, you’ll be tying yourself to the mob, breaking your oaths as a lawyer to serve and protect the people of Japan. If you choose the Adlers, those are the only people you’ll end up protecting, perhaps at the cost of innocent lives.

There’s a beat where you don’t say anything, mulling over the two offers you’ve been given.

Then you turn around to face him, a bright smile on your face, and a twinkle in your eye that makes Kageyama’s heart skip a few too many beats. Your voice is strong, firm, resolved to the path you’ve chosen with the time you’ve been given.

“Kageyama-san, do you have a pen I could borrow? I believe there’s a contract I have to sign.”

purple hyacinth | part two

kageyama tobio was only supposed to deliver the weapons to ushijima’s best customer once every two weeks. he wasn’t supposed to fall in love with you—law student by day, top dancer and escort at washijo tanji’s club by night. when you ask the impossible of him, kageyama has to choose: his life or yours.

pairing: adlers underboss kageyama tobio x escort fem!reader (with hair), part two of three ; 6.6k, nsfw (18+, mdni)

warnings:depictions of sex work, plans of violence and murder, implied sexual abuse, physical abuse (a slap), big asshole character; oral (f!receiving), creampie, kageyama’s a simp

thanks to:@anime-nymphand@vanille–kiss for coming up with the ideas for me and helping me look into ways to murder and dick kageyama down like friends should LOL <3 also for betaing, and vani for the amazing banner as always!

written in conjuction with:@mrskenmakozume’ssimp me not collab! i had m for mafia :’)

part one||part two||part three||mafia au masterlist
bosses:black petunia||red peony||white lily
underbosses:pink magnolia||orange rose

Two weeks is a long time when you’re riddled with anxiety, and Kageyama finds that out by the third day without seeing you. The days drag by, slower than the dead bodies he has to haul out to the ocean and tie down so they won’t be found. The Adlers are all about rules: follow them and Ushijima will reward you; break them and try to steal merchandise, and Ushijima won’t bat an eye over your “disappearance.”

Kageyama learned that as soon as he came into the clan at age nineteen, fresh off of failure to get into university again. Failure. The one thing his mother used to call him before she left him in the care of his grandfather and never returned. The one thing he dreaded becoming because his father was exactly the same. A failure of a man who couldn’t keep his family together, his debts in control, and his dick in his pants. Kageyama swore not to become like him, not to ruin his remaining family. Promised to get into a good university and make something of himself. Only he failed miserably, and his grandfather’s forlorn sigh plunged a knife into his heart and carved until there was nothing left.

He got blazingly drunk that night, stumbling all the way home as he yelled at no one. He stopped at a red light, nearly tipping over as he waited, steadying himself on the glass window of a 7/11. When Kageyama turned to look, all he saw was his face: the spitting image of his father, another failure in the Kageyama family line. Failure, failure, failure.

The first punch to the window did nothing but make his hand ache. The second was the same, but the third, fourth, and fifth slowly splintered his reflection, the cracks growing deeper and deeper as he wailed on the window. He didn’t hear the gasps from passersby; he didn’t hear the worker shout that she was going to call the police. All he heard were his own shouts of anguish and the dull thud of his bloody fist meeting the window over and over and over.

“Hey.”

Kageyama stopped punching to turn the voice, ready to throw a hook to whatever officer came to take him away. He had already fucked up his future, so what was another mistake?

“Fight me,” he slurred, wiping a bloody hand over his eyes to clear them from his tears. “I’m not gonna go to the station without a fight.”

“I’m not here to arrest you.”

Standing in front of him wasn’t a police officer at all. It was a tall man, face serious, crisp suit on his toned body. His olive-colored hair was pushed to the side, and his gloved hand held out an off-white business card.

That was the first time he met Ushijima Wakatoshi.

He had started out small, working as a server at one of the clubs. But after he beat up some rowdy customers three-to-one, Ushijima gave him more responsibility. Errand runs, contraband dropoffs, the extermination of some people who refused to follow the agreements and rules. Kageyama did them all without complaint because Ushijima gave him something special: the chance to be the opposite of everything his father was.

Eventually an eagle tattoo sat between his shoulder blades, and he was the first person Ushijima called after Hoshiumi had been disposed of.

“I’m counting on you,” Ushijima said simply before turning back around in his chair. Kageyama bowed and didn’t move for two minutes, too embarrassed to show his boss the hot tears that streamed down his face at the acknowledgement and opportunity.

But all that loyalty means shit to him as soon as he walks into Il Giardino and sees Washijo yelling at you from outside the boss’s window.

When he tries to enter, Saitou Akira puts a hand on his chest and shakes his head. “No one’s allowed inside.”

“It’s our appointment time,” Kageyama tries to argue, but the guard isn’t amused.

“You can wait.”

He’s forced to stand outside, listening to you yell back over money. Even through the thick, closed door and lowered blinds, Kageyama can hear your argument clearly.

“You can’t just raise my prices without raising my cut, too,” you argue, exasperation clear in your tone. “I know you’re my boss, but—”

“I’m not your boss,” Washijo snaps, every thread of patience gone. “You think this is a charity case? No, I ownyou. Just because you’re the best whore in this place doesn’t mean shit. One wrong move and you’ll be turned over to the police for prostitution.”

“You wouldn’t do that,” you counter. “Because then they’ll be looking into you, too—”

Your words are cut off with a sharp slap, and Akira has to restrain him from going inside again. Kageyama tries to fight into the room when he hears the slap again and a light whimper from you, but it’s no use. He has to listen to you cry out as Washijo strikes you over and over, red hot fury burning in his veins. He clenches his fists so tightly that his nails break skin, his teeth clenched so hard he thinks they might crack.

“Remember your fucking place,” Washijo spits. “Or do I have to remind you where you started, Daisy?”

The room is dead silent, and Kageyama can hear his heart pounding in his ears so loudly it sounds like drums. Even the DJ’s soundcheck is drowned out as he waits for your answer, body trembling with the anger he hasn’t felt since the night he meant Ushijima.

Your reply is quiet and broken. “Yes, sir.”

“You look like shit. Get the fuck out of here, and come back tomorrow ready to work. Your earnings for the rest of the week are mine.”

You don’t answer.

The door flings open and you nearly stumble out, eyes locking with his once you push past the guard. Your cheeks are swollen and red, blood dripping from your nose from where Washijo struck you. Your eyes immediately move to the floor, and you scurry past him without saying anything, holding your thin and sheer robe closer to your body. Kageyama wants to chase after you, wants to yell your real name and tell you none of what Washijo said is true, but the owner steps out into his doorway with an annoyed expression.

“These girls always give me trouble. They should be happy with what they’re getting. Isn’t that right, Kageyama?”

The underboss doesn’t look at Washijo as he nods once and only once. Kageyama knows that if he opens his mouth now, he’ll ruin the business relationship Ushijima built and meet the same fate as Hoshiumi, so he keeps quiet. Throughout the whole meeting, he only speaks when necessary, which is not very often. Washijo likes to hear himself talk, likes to ramble on about his mighty guns teaching his “girls” a lesson they’ll never forget.

“Training,” Washijo laughs, polishing the barrel of his latest purchase with an embroidered handkerchief. “It’s what all women need anyway.”

Kageyama can hear Washijo’s disgusting laugh ringing in his mind the entire car ride back to the hideout. You were long gone by the time Kageyama finished, running from the building before he got the chance to see you. It feels strange to be heading back so early, and something seizes Kageyama’s lungs and won’t let go. It feels like they’re in a vice grip, making it hard for him to breathe as he leans forward toward his driver.

“The Cygnus,” he manages to rasp out. He needs to talk to Ushijima immediately.

He doesn’t remember the rest of the car ride there, or stumbling into the jazz bar. He doesn’t hear the singer warmup either, or Semi playing the piano, his ears drowned out by the crashing of waves in his brain. Ushijima sits in his usual booth, nursing his usual whiskey sour, and the twitch in his eyebrow means he wasn’t expecting Kageyama so early.

“Boss,” he greets with a bow.

“Did you meet with Washijo?”

“Yes.” Kageyama’s mouth is dry no matter how many times he swallows, his arms awkwardly tight down by his sides. “But I would like you to reconsider his contract.”

“Hm?” Ushijima looks up from his glass, his face still as stoic as ever. “He still has about three months left. Does he want to end early?”

“No.”

“Then what is the issue?”

How can Kageyama explain? Washijo’s an abuser, an asshole, a damn stain on the Earth, but Kageyama’s come across worse people in his line of work. People who kill for fun, who laugh at the needy, who think life is a game and take what they want without asking. It’s par the course of mafia business, but—

But.

“I don’t think the arrangement is beneficial anymore.”

Ushijima considers Kageyama’s answer for a split second before questioning, “For whom?”

For her, Kageyama almost answers but bites it back at the last second. Ushijima stares at him like he can read him like a book, and maybe he can. The Adlers’ boss read him that first night after all, taking a chance on a boy punching a window until he bled, when no one else understood what he was going through.

When the silence stretches too long, Ushijima nods and lowers his drink. “There’s three months left in his contract and it will not be broken. You know about the rules.” Then he taps the rim of the glass a few times before adding, “However, afterwards, I will reconsider once more.”

Kageyama bows low and stays there, just like he did when he accepted the position of underboss. Only this time it’s not because he’s crying—it’s because he knows he’ll be dead if he spits out what’s really on his mind.

“Go to my club in Harajuku for tonight,” Ushijima orders. “Keep an eye out on the bouncer. I’ve heard he’s letting in rival members.”

“Yes, Boss.”

Kageyama turns from The Cygnus, repeating the order from Ushijima over and over, glad for a small ember of distraction he can fan to release the fire burning in his veins.

ⵈ ⵈ ⵈ ⵈ ⵈ ⵈ

The next time he goes to see Washijo, the meeting ends early. The owner is in a fairly good mood, buying his firearm without barely any inspection. Kageyama doesn’t question it, because Washijo tells him anyway, not even pausing to let the underboss have a word.

“The best boat my money could buy,” he hums as he sorts through paperwork on his desk, fishing out a picture and sliding it Kageyama’s way. “What I deserve for all my hard work.”

You mean theirhard work, he wants to retort but keeps silent. Instead he studies the picture of the boat on the desk before him. It’s not the biggest he’s seen, especially not after helping Aone and Futakuchi load cruise ships and cargo containers, but it’s a decent size for a yacht. It’s big enough for a few people, a deck on the back leading to a domed inside, the entire thing painted black on the bottom and white on top.

“Name’sHighwind. It’s in Kanagawa Prefecture, perfect for weekend trips out of this hellhole. Ready to set sail on the ocean right now, in top condition.”

“Wonderful, sir,” Kageyama answers politely.

“Tell Ushijima he can join me for a trip one day. I got all the women and booze he could want right here.”

“I will alert him,” he says, but doesn’t mean it. He’s pretty sure Ushijima’s jazz club girlfriend would tear the motor out of the boat before Ushijima could even step foot on it.

“Alright, get out of here.” Washijo flicks his hand toward the door, and Kageyama ignores the old man’s mutter of, I hope that doesn’t mean you’d come, too as he slips from the room.

As he walks toward the doorway leading to the stairs, Kageyama pauses. He hasn’t seen you since the night you were slapped, glaring at him with watery eyes that told him not to come, so he hasn’t booked you tonight. Do you still not want him to come? Or are you hoping he’ll book you one more time anyway? He waits for a bit to see the first performer, and when it’s not you, he slips up the stairs and back to the car waiting for him to finish.

“Go back,” Kageyama tells the driver, shaking his head when the man tries to argue. “I’ll walk. Go back.”

The driver knows better than to question him, so Kageyama is left standing in the parking lot of Il Giardino, staring up at the nearly full moon in the spring sky. The clouds look like they’re threatening rain, thick and grey as they slowly roll in and block out the moonlight. The night is warm enough to loiter outside in his jacket, and he’s been waiting nearly an hour when the door to the restaurant opens.

He doesn’t expect you to be the one to walk out, but you do, clutching onto your bag in regular clothes. You pause mid-step when you see him standing there, eyes silently boring into his, before you turn and keep walking. Kageyama hesitates. He isn’t sure if he’s meant to follow you or if that was your way of dismissing him completely, but just before you’re out of sight, he trails you.

You walk down the main street for a while, crossing two different overpasses before disappearing into a side alley. Kageyama is quick to follow, walking a safe distance behind you as you pull up to an old apartment building that’s surely seen better days. The paint is chipped and fading, and there are newspapers and tape on the windows that are cracked in a few apartments. A thick and charged wind blows and signals the looming rainstorm, and you dig into your bag for your keys as you step into the crumbling archway leading into the complex.

Then you finally turn and stare at him, voice tired as you ask, “Are you coming?”

In the ugly yellow light of the entrance way, he can see the bags under your eyes, the fatigue clear on your face. Kageyama nods once, and you disappear into the stairwell, leading so he can follow. As he steps into the light, a flash of color catches his eye. Amongst all the decay and neglect sits a small bed of purple hyacinth, swaying in the hard breeze but standing tall and firm.

Your apartment is on the fourth floor, and Kageyama mumbles a greeting as he slips inside. There isn’t much to your place—a small TV on a stand against the wall, an older couch covered up by a newer cover, a clean kitchen with a partition attached to the wall that’s stocked with junk food. Books are everywhere, along with notes, notebooks, and pens and pencils. You set your bag on top of one of the open law books, turning to him with a hand on your hip.

“Why are you following me?”

You’re mad at him. Kageyama tries to think about whyyou might be upset with him, what he could have done to receive such a snappy tone, but he can’t come up with anything.

“You left work early,” is his lame response.

“You didn’t come for me.”

At the crestfallen look on your face, he finally understands. You wanted him to come back for you. You wanted him to book you again, to show you that he cared, to show you it was more than a simple transaction: his money for your body.

But he didn’t.

“I… didn’t think you wanted to see me,” he mutters, rocking on his feet as he thinks of what else he can say. “Because… you know.”

“You’re the only thing keeping me going,” you admit with a sad smile, dropping your hand from your hip. “If it weren’t for you, I think I would…”

The silence stretches far too long. Your gaze tears from his to look around the room, bouncing to your open law books and school mess. There are no picture frames on your walls, no proof of friends or family, no awards or trophies or accolades proving your worth. Kageyama realizes with a jolt to his heart that you’re just like he was—stuck in a constant loop of bullshit that’s nearly impossible to escape from.

“Would?”

“I want to kill him.” The impassioned way you say it makes Kageyama regard you again. “He took—takes everything from me, Tobio-kun. Everything. You heard him, didn’t you? I belongto him and he takes what’s his.” The truth weighs heavy on his chest, squeezing his lungs until all he can do is exhale sharply. You’re not just talking about money; you’re talking about you. There’s a catch in your voice when you finish, “He won’t let me leave. No matter what I do… He’ll neverlet me leave.”

The silence is deafening as he stares at you. You try to catch your breath, inhaling and exhaling a few times to calm yourself down. There are no tears lining your eyes, no flush in your cheeks. You’re completely serious, ready to make good on your plea to end the man causing your suffering. Kageyama knows the feeling of being trapped with no way out—well enough, in fact, that he takes a step forward and brings a hand to your upper arm.

“I don’t think that,” he says quietly.

“Think what?” You answer back just as softly, arms still crossed even though the tension in your shoulders has dissipated slightly. “That I’m just Washijo’s prized whore?” Your laugh is mirthless. “It wouldn’t surprise me if you did, the other girls—”

“That you’re property.”

His hushed response stops you dead in your tracks. Your eyes are wet for the first time all night—and Kageyama expects the first time in a long while—and you say his name as barely a whisper.

“You’re your own person. You’re always free to make your own choices.” He sounds like Ushijima, down to the gritty tone he repeats the words in. The boss had said those same words to him when he called and asked for a chance, and now he’s offering them to you just the same.

“Am I?” You question, grabbing onto his jacket and tugging hard on the sleeve. “You say I have a choice, but do I, really?”

Kageyama nods stiffly, trying to keep his eyes off the way you lick your lips and part them. He shouldn’t be thinking about how good you’d feel against him, about how he wants to feel you beneath him, those same lips parted in a moan of his name. Shouldn’t be thinking about those lips on his cock, milking him to completion like you did weeks ago. Shouldn’t think about your hand on his body, only it’s impossible with how you trail up his sleeve, fingers running over his sharp chin.

“That means you have a choice, too,” you say as your fingers spread lightning through his nerves as they stroke the side of his neck. “Either you can take me to the bedroom and fuck me like we both want, or you can walk out of this apartment and never see me again.”

Your bluntness causes his throat to go dry, made doubly worse when you run your fingers through his hair and tug at the locks. He can’t stop staring at your mouth, parted and glistening, like you’re ready for him to swoop in and claim you.

So he does.

It’s a much-too-excited knock of your lips that makes you squeak, but it gels into a forceful kiss when you step closer and throw your arms around his neck. He barely manages to grab you when you jump up, and he lumbers over to the table to set you down on the side. His lips haven’t left yours, moving incessantly until you part your lips for him to slip his tongue inside. You wrap your legs around his waist, slotting him between your thighs as you push your tongue against his, twirling and licking until he’s the one grunting instead of you.

He breaks to breathe, then kisses you again and again, until you’re whimpering and tugging at his jacket to get it off. He peels it off of his body without breaking the kiss, throwing it off to the side to be forgotten. Your shirt is next, followed by his sweater and undershirt, until all that’s left between your chests is a flimsy bra that he could probably rip with his fingers if he really wanted to.

The crackle of thunder outside the window makes you jump, and heavy rain begins to pound against the glass. But your breathing is even louder, sharp inhales and exhales as he squeezes at your tits, thumbs circling your nipples as he makes a sloppy and wet trail down your neck. You moan when he sucks a spot on your neck, but your thighs squeeze his waist as a warning.

“No visible marks,” you pant as you run your nails down his back. “Or he’ll kill me first.”

Kageyama grunts his answer, fingers fumbling with the clasp on your bra. When he can’t get it after a few tries, he considers actuallyripping it so he can finally get his mouth on your tits. You snort, quick hands getting it off in one go, and the scrappy piece of fabric joins the rest of the growing pile.

You moan when he licks around your nipple, sucking around it as a tease before taking one in his mouth. He pulls on the other, twisting and rubbing until they’re both hard and you’re arching into him. Your foot travels down his side, shifting to his inner thigh, and when you press against his cock, he groans.

“Missed your cock,” you say as he continues to suck on your breasts, fingers pushing at your pants until you’re lifting to help him pull them down. “I kept—ah, kept imagining what it would feel like inside me.”

Kageyama groans, kneeling down in between your legs to get a good look at your barely covered pussy. He can see how damp the front of your panties have become, and when his fingers press against your folds, you whine. He pushes your thighs open to get closer, pulling the fabric down to your knees so he can get a look at you fully naked for the first time. You’re beautiful, chest heaving and wet with his saliva, thighs trembling as his heavy breaths hit your wet folds.

“Fuck,” he whispers before he parts you, diving in to get his first taste.

You moan when he worms his tongue inside, flicking up and down to get closer. He holds onto your ass, bringing you to the edge of the partition so he can taste all of you. He flicks over your clit and you keen, hands in his hair pushing him so deep that he almost forgets how to breathe. He doesn’t really care, not when you taste so good and whine his name every time his quick tongue flicks over your clit.

It’s easy to slip a finger inside of you, even easier to press in to the hilt. His pace is rough and needy, tongue rolling your clit before he sucks on it. You swear, curling into him as your legs start to tremble. Another finger and you’re practically begging for him, heels striking the wall when he sucks hard again. The squelching of your pussy is nearly drowned out by the thunder, but there’s no masking your heavy breaths and your constant whimpers.

“I’m gonna—oh fuck, like that, like that.”

Your begging spurs him on, and his cock throbs, hot and heavy against his thigh as you moan his name. Your walls squeeze his scissoring fingers as your orgasm crests, and your fingers tug on his hair so harshly his scalp burns. He doesn’t dare stop, milking your pussy for everything you can give him as you shake and whine underneath his mouth. Kageyama keeps going until you’re trying to squirm away from him, sweaty thighs trying to push him out.

“My bag,” you gasp as you try to catch your breath. “Front zipper pocket, and hurry.”

He doesn’t dare say no. His cock pulses so hard it nearly hurts, ready to burst when he checks behind him and sees you starting to bend over the partition. Shit. Kageyama digs in your purse as fast as he can, practically tearing out the condom you have stashed inside. It’s on in a second, the wrapper thrown off to the side so he can grip your hips and maneuver you further down. Your elbows are on the table and you scratch at the surface as he rubs the head of his cock on your slick folds before pushing inside.

It’s even better than he imagined. You’re so tight, sucking him in easily with how wet you are, all the way to the hilt. You whimper and grab at him, reaching a hand back to cover his and tightening his grip on your waist. If you want it hard, he’ll give it to you. He doesn’t give you time to adjust to his long length before he pulls out and slams back in, nearly knocking you forward. You keen, digging into the countertop as he slaps his hips into yours.

You moan with every drag of his cock as he fucks you, fingers digging into your hips to make you match his thrusts. It’s weeks of pent up aggression, wanting nothing more than to be buried into your throbbing heat like he is now. Kageyama supposes he should savor it—memorize every whine, every wet sound, every gasping plea for more—but he’s too lost in the feeling of finally having you. He stares at his cock disappearing into your cunt over and over, your walls molded around him like he belongs there.

“Please,” you whimper, your moans echoing thanks to your buried face in your arm.

“Yeah?” He breathlessly asks back, a hand on your back forcing you to arch even more so he can hit deeper.

Your answer is a garbled moan, your walls squeezing him tight enough to pull a grunt from his lips. His nails run all down your back, not hard enough to leave a mark but enough where he can see the remnants of his presence, to remind himself that he’s finally got you where he wants you. The thought is enough to spike heat in his veins and threaten him to cum already.

“No, no,” you whine when he slows down, craning your head to look at him. Your eyelashes flutter with his deep but slow strokes, a small smirk coming to your face when you see how flushed and breathless he is. “Tobio.”

You’re doing this on purpose. Whimpering his name without an honorific so he’ll fall apart and give you the upper hand. And the worst part is, it’s working. Even his slow strokes can’t stop his rising orgasm so he throws caution to the wind, slamming into you again while he gropes at your tits. Your surprised yelp turns into a long moan when he hits just right, your body trembling as he pulls and twists your nipples.

“Shit,” he whispers hoarsely before letting go. His thrusts are choppy as he chases his orgasm, his fingers clinging so tightly to your breasts that you gasp. There are goosebumps on his arms as he shudders closer to you, sweat dripping from his brow to your back when he leans forward and pulls out.

You’re panting too, turning on shaky legs to regard him with lidded eyes and flushed cheeks. His flaccid cock twitches at the look, so he quickly ties off the condom before he makes a mess. When he turns to throw it out, you gasp, eyes widening at the eagle tattoo that spans his shoulder blades. Its black wings curve toward his shoulders, its mouth forever open in an angry caw. Kageyama eyes you warily as he throws away the condom, waiting for you to ask him what it is or say something about it.

But you don’t.

Instead you beckon him forward with a sly smirk and two fingers.

“I said take me to the bedroom, didn’t I?”

He wastes no time in listening. Kageyama is back on you again, lips dragging across yours over and over to savor your taste. You grab onto his shoulders to drag him toward your bedroom, tongue pressed up against his, so sloppy that his lips are covered in saliva by the time you pull back.

With a heavy push, he falls back to the bed, bouncing a few times as you climb over him. You look so pretty straddling his waist, the light around your head making you look like an angel as you lean over him. Your hips grind into his hardening cock, hands leveraging themselves on his shoulders so you can work him back to hardness. There’s a smirk on your face as you do, fingers digging into his skin as you rock back and forth.

“Tobio,” you whisper.

There’s a twinkle in your eye that tells him you know how much it’s affecting him. Especially when you shift and the head of his cock bumps your folds, disappearing inside for a second. You’re so wet, and it takes everything in him not to beg for you to take his full length.

“Oh, shit,” you whine, rocking back and forth so only the head of his cock disappears into your heat. “Fuck, like this. Can we?”

This is dangerous and Kageyama knows it. Between your job and the possibility of an accident, he should get another condom and fuck you that way. But you press a little further, teasing him with the head of his cock pressing in and out, in and out, over and over. He’s about to go insane, wanting nothing more than to be buried inside you again, but even with his hands on your hips, you evade him.

“Tobio.”

“Please.”

The word is quiet, needy, caught in the back of his throat as a mix between a groan and a request. It takes you both by surprise, your eyes widening as you stare down at him. He’s completely hard again, and just a little lower… His face grows even more flushed than it already is when you spread your folds and sink down all the way, keeping eye contact with him the entire time. Your mouth falls open in a silent moan, your hips stilling as you breathe.

There’s a moment where you savor the feeling, then you’re lifting your hips and slamming down, holding onto him as you ride him. Kageyama is sure he’s never seen something so beautiful, your tits bouncing, your hands flexing, your cunt warm and perfect for him. Every moan, whimper, and squeeze of your walls drills into his brain, ringing until he can’t think anymore. All he knows is the heat and wetness of your cunt, and the way you bounce on him like his cock is all you need.

His hands grip your waist to help you move, legs lifting to hit even deeper. You ride him so well, head tilted back with a moan as your fingers trail down to your clit. You keen and work quickly, matching his thrusts with your bounces and your gasps for breath.

When Kageyama grips your ass, you groan, fingers rubbing and circling your swollen nub until you’re leaning forward with a hoarse call of his name. Your pussy squeezes him so tightly that he grunts, working you through your orgasm as his own rises.

You open your eyes, cheeks sweaty and flushed, and when you whisper his name, he’s lost. He grabs onto you, fucking up into you as hard as he can. When his orgasm hits, he forces your hips down so he can fill your cunt with his seed, so he can make his mark on you in the only way he knows how. You gasp at the feeling, but he barely hears it, lost in the feeling of you taking him so well.

He opens his eyes and your satisfied smile is the first thing he sees.

“Again,” you beg. “Please.”

Kageyama can think of nothing else he wants more.

ⵈ ⵈ ⵈ ⵈ ⵈ ⵈ

The first thing he hears is the pounding of rain against the bedroom window. The second is water running in the room across the hall from your bedroom. Kageyama is groggy when he wakes up, blinking the sleep from his eyes as he sits and tries to re-orient himself. It’s still dark outside, which means he only dozed off for a few hours. You had collapsed on his chest, the warmth lulling him into a restful sleep he hadn’t had for a while.

When he pads out to the living room with his underwear in his hands, you’re still in the bathroom. Kageyama nudges the door open with his foot, watching you scrub your face clean of the product you’re using. You’re still naked, water dripping down your body as you finish up, towel off, then turn to him.

“Do you want to shower, too?” You ask calmly, wrapping the towel around your neck before batting your clean eyelashes at him. “Before you go back to see Ushijima-san.”

Kageyama goes rigid as a board, gaze drilling into your light smile. How do you know that?

“I’ve heard that name before. From Washijo,” you muse, walking forward to move past him toward your bedroom. Kageyama follows you like a lost puppy, unsure of what else to do. You dig into your dresser, pulling out a t-shirt and cotton shorts before you turn and speak again. “The leader of the Adlers, right? He sent you a message.”

The ease in which you discuss the Adlers is disorienting. It’s like you’re talking about what you need from the store instead of mafia business, oh-so-casual as you slip on your pajamas. He hurries to put on his underwear, refusing to have this conversation while standing naked in your bedroom.

You look at him so expectantly now that you’re dressed, but all Kageyama can do is give a stiff nod and a croaked, “Yeah.”

“Then… you work for him?”

“Yeah.”

“Tobio,” you breathe, so dainty, so soft, so beautiful. You take a step forward, grabbing onto his hand and bringing it between both of your own, fingers clutching his like a lifeline. It’s a stark contrast to your next request. “Kill him for me.”

“What?” It falls from Kageyama’s mouth as quickly as a bullet. “Ushijima?”

“No,Washijo.” You cling harder to his hand even though Kageyama tries to pull it away. “Isn’t that what the mafia does? Kill people who go against them? Make them disappear?”

Sure, he’s done that plenty of times under Ushijima’s orders, but…

“If anyone can do it, you can.”

“I can’t.” Kageyama answers, firm and immovable. “I can’t go against the Boss. Besides you…” He sighs, looking out toward the living room, even if he can’t see it. “Aren’t you going to become a lawyer? You can’t have that stain on your record, idiot, you—”

“I’m not an idiot,” you hiss, dropping his hand and pointing a finger in his chest. “You don’t know how much I’ve thought about this. How many times I’ve seen women hit and assaulted, only for the lawto turn their backs on them for trying to make ends meet. No one will do anything about Washijo because he has too much power and money. Trust me, I’ve tried. All he has to do is wave his money around and the evidence is destroyed.”

Kageyama stares at you in confusion, eyebrows creasing together as you force your finger into his chest again to push him away from you. “Then… what’s the point of becoming a lawyer if you hate it so much?”

“The point is to help people like me who are stuck with no way out.” You sigh, dragging a hand down your face before taking a deep breath. “I’ll endure all the bullshit if it means another woman doesn’t have to go through what I have.”

You turn away from him, crossing your arms over your chest. Kageyama wants nothing more than to wrap you up from behind and bring you into his embrace, whispering that it’ll be okay. He, of all people, knows what a lie those words are. He murmurs your name but you don’t turn around; you’re too focused on the rain pelting the window from the storm outside.

“Sometimes the law isn’t enough. For people like me, it’ll neverbe enough.” Your voice is quiet and defeated, something he’s never once heard for you. You finally turn to him, expression grim as you plead, “That’s why I need your help.”

As much as it pains him to say it, Kageyama repeats, “I can’t.”

“So you’ll choose to let me suffer?”

“I’m choosing my life. Ushijima will kill me if I go against his word. Don’t ask me to choose between Ushijima and you, because…” He pauses, swallowing down his reservations so he can bluntly say, “Because it won’t be you.”

“…I know,” you admit quietly, so quiet and resigned that it breaks his heart. “I know. That’s not what I want.”

You exhale, turning away from him again, and it feels as though you’ve closed yourself off from him for good. He won’t let it end like this. Ushijima be damned, there has to be something he can do for you to get you out of this hell. Even though Kageyama couldn’t achieve his own goals, he doesn’t want that to happen to you, too.

“Three months.”

His words make you silently look back.

“Three months,” Kageyama repeats. “That’s how long Washijo has left in his contract. After three months, Ushijima says he’ll reconsider.”

There’s a pinched look on your face that looks like you’re considering something, calculating the best way to use the remaining time. Carefully, like you’re weighing every word that comes out of your mouth, you ask, “That means after three months, I can…?”

“If you’re sure.”

You swallow, taking a deep breath before slowly exhaling. “You know,” you murmur, quieter than the thunder that shakes the window in front of you. “I want him dead, but… more than that, I want him ruined. I want him to suffer. I want to watch the light fade from his eyes, like he did to me. Do you understand?”

Kageyama takes his time to consider what you’re asking. It’s more than asking about his comprehension—you’re quietly asking for his help, for his expertise, for a way to make sure Washijo gets everything that’s coming to him, even if it means going against everything you’re studying for. Can he do this for you? Bring you into the dark and dirty work of the mafia, even as you study to become someone who may take him down?

“Tobio, answer me,” you insist when he takes too long to answer.

“If you want him to suffer,” Kageyama answers slowly, “Then we’ll need a plan.”

You both stare at each other for a long, dragging moment. Lightning outside the window flashes and illuminates the torn look on your face, your tired eyes, your heaving chest. You hug closer to yourself as if you can feel the chill from the rain from outside, even though your apartment is overly warm. The breath you let out is loud, and you blink a few times before you turn around to him fully, arms crossed over your chest.

“We have to make it perfect.”

Kageyama nods once to seal the deal.

If this is all he can promise you, then he’s more than willing to do it.

walking the city at night, ft kageyama tobio [requested by @etherealtobio]

you had never seen the city look so enchanting and peaceful. the day time seemed to hide a whole part of koganei that only came alive at night. it was beautiful. the opportunity to see the city from new angles, under a new light, was one that you would not take for granted, not when kageyama had a hold of your hand.

his thumb stroked the back of your hand gently. his fingers tightened occasionally on yours, giving them a squeeze that you were quick to return. glancing over at him, you caught his eye, face lighting up in a grin.

“i’m kind of grateful your game ended later than expected,” you admitted, the statement shocking him. kageyama had promised a quiet evening in, only for neither team to be able to gain a convincing lead in the game and for press to take longer than expected. “it means i get to experience this with you, and how many other times would we walk around at this time?”

“not many,” kageyama admitted. whenever he got home from work, the last thing he felt like doing was going out for a walk. all he really wanted when he walked through the door was to relax (be that on the sofa, in your bedroom, or standing with you in the kitchen) with you in his arms. he pressed a kiss to your cheek then, his lips warm against your cool skin. “i guess i’m glad we get to do this too.”

silence fell between you as you both looked around, taking in the stars in the sky above you, the shapes of buildings, their edges more muted in the dark. words weren’t needed. they weren’t spoken for fear that they would break the tranquilty, this perfect moment that existed between you and him.

the length of his body was warm against yours, and you pressed closer. kageyama’s reaction to your movement was as natural as breathing. he released your hand, wrapping an arm around your body and holding you to him as you walked. in return, your arm went around his back, hand curling into the material of his hoodie. despite the frigid chill to the air, he still refused to wear a thicker coat, insisting it was far warmer that the mountain air he was used to.

on walks, you rarely had the chance to walk this close to each other, to truly just exist in the other person’s presence. it was a beautiful thing, one that had you coming to a stop to look off at the shapes of houses and trees in the moonlight.

“it’s beautiful,” you sighed, not sure what it was you were referring to. was it the view? was it the feel of kageyama’s warm body pressed against yours? the utter ease you felt at that moment? the way that all the things that had made you fall in love with him were so clear to you then?

kageyama could hear it in your voice, how many different thoughts were contained in that one sentence. he pulled you closer, pulled you in front of him, your back pressed against his front. wrapping his arms around your middle, he rested his head on your shoulder, turning his face to place a soft kiss to where your neck and shoulder met. “it really is.”

HQ BOYS WORRIED ABOUT TOUCHING THEIR BABY

featuring ; (timeskip !)atsumu miya, kageyama tobio, ushijima wakatoshi, and kyoutani kentarou

warnings ; insecurity ? cute husbands

notes ; i finally got around to answering some asks ! more are to come, but for now i hope this’ll serve as some form of compensation ( _ _|| ). thank you for your kind words as well ^^

ATSUMU rocked the crib quietly, you were leaning on the doorway, eyes hardly cracking open with fatigue. he’d insisted that he’d go check on her when she began crying for the fifth night in a row, aware of just how exhausted you were. he held a soft smile on his face despite the tired eyes that watched, about to reach forward to hold the baby to his chest. he glanced at his hands skeptically, brows furrowing. “darlin’ i don’t know if i should hold her, i mean, my hands are so rough. i don’t wanna hurt her.” he sighed, slumping sadly. “you’re talking about your hands?” you waddled forward, smaller hands holding onto his to bring them against your cheek. “you won’t hurt her, and your hands are soft and warm. she’ll love them just as much as i do.” giggling softly at his reddened cheeks in fluster. “alrighty then.” he scooped her up ever so carefully, lifting her to his face while her tiny hands held his face just as yours had done many times before. “hey beautiful, your daddy loves you more than anything y’know.”

KAGEYAMA brought his little girl to the gymnasium with him early so they could play around and get used to the “feel” as tobio exclaimed with easily noticeable excitement.. that idea in mind, he’d spent what felt to be hours teaching the mini to set a ball( it was makeshift in the end ). “yes !” he jumped into the air happily, she’d finally managed to lift the ball a small portion into the air with her tiny fingers. he was beaming with pride. “c’mere ! you did so good !” he bounced around, stalling to drop to a crouch when ushering his daughter to him. yet once she arrived closer, he hesitated. he had calloused bruising at his hands for almost every finger. and the look she gave him when he didn’t airplane her( what she called it when he spun her around in the air ) broke his heart to pieces. “why no airplane daddy ?” he tilted her head comically, to which he leaned back on his heels in dismay. “mm .. daddy’s hands aren’t comfy babydoll, you wouldn’t want them on your pretty face.” she stomped her foot with a loud huff. “but i love daddy ! and airplane ! der ( there ) is nofing ( nothing ) wrong wif ( with ) your hands !” she forcefully grabbed his wrist, smiling with her missing tooth on display. so stinkin’ cute, how could he resist.

USHIJIMA had always been taken as a harsh person. maybe it was his demeanor that appeared cold and calculating that left people with that impression. or his constant drive to work harder, push harder. but to your little boy, he was nothing but a gentle giant. a teddy bear to put it perfectly. the littlest things he’d do, or the way he’d look at him. oh the way he’d look at him. the sweetest thing ever i swear. he’d offer kind reminders to wash his hands and greet others respectfully. now his son munched away at the dishes scattered on the table. although the thought of wakatoshi’s strength just registered to him as he sat. how easily he could hurt him. it scared the ace thoroughly. that pit of worry bursting into a vivacious cherry. so when he noticed the grain of rice clinging to his boy’s cheek. he withheld his urge to wipe it away. “so unlike you toshi.” you hummed, using a napkin to rid of the messy eater’s evidence. “i didn’t want to be to aggressive with him, i’m easily capable of hurting him.” he fiddled nervously. “exactly, but you’re not ever like that for either of us. believe in yourself, you’re our volleyball player after all.” you were silenced with a honeyed kiss. “now that was aggressive.” — “thank you for this .. for everything.” he placed his forehead against yours. “i mean it.”

KYOUTANI moped on the chair outside of the pediatricians office, absolutely ruined from his baby girls cries after receiving her yearly injections. it was killing him. his moping was alerted when he heard your voice say “all done !” and knew just how screwed he was. if it was this hard already to keep himself from loosing it from guilt he was certain he couldn’t take it when he saw his angels face, all tear-stained and sad. the idea was spot on. you placed her to your breast, bouncing her while filling out the paper work. meanwhile, his dainty darling was still crying her lungs out. not over the ordeal apparently. “ken, can you hold her while i write this down ?” he hit his lip, thinking over the phrase. “she’ll probably get even more alarmed if she sees me, and i’m too harsh with her, i don’t want to scare her anymore than she’s already is.” he growled, voice low. “daddy!” interrupted your reply before she was clenching her fist repeatedly in his direction to be held. “ken, she wants you, it’s okay.” you assured, your muscular husband complying as he held her to his chest, shushing her cries. “shhh it’s okay i’ve got you.” he caressed her dampened cheeks, the nurses echoing an ‘aww’ from behind the counter. kyoutani couldn’t have been moreembarrassed.

-maak

plagiarism, repost, and editing is prohibited

ᴋᴀʀᴀꜱᴜɴᴏ

[ — ɴꜱꜰᴡ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ] [ — ꜱᴜɢɢᴇꜱᴛɪᴠᴇ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ]

ˑ༄ؘ ۪۫۫ ▹ ʜɪɴᴀᴛᴀ ꜱʜᴏʏᴏ ◃ ۪۫۫ ༄ؘ ˑ

— headcanons:

nothing yet…

ˑ༄ؘ ۪۫۫ ▹ ᴋᴀɢᴇʏᴀᴍᴀ ᴛᴏʙɪᴏ ◃ ۪۫۫ ༄ؘ ˑ

— headcanons:

nothing yet…

ˑ༄ؘ ۪۫۫ ▹ ᴛꜱᴜᴋɪꜱʜɪᴍᴀ ᴋᴇɪ ◃ ۪۫۫ ༄ؘ ˑ

— headcanons:

nothing yet…

ˑ༄ؘ ۪۫۫ ▹ ɴɪꜱʜɪɴᴏʏᴀ ʏᴜ ◃ ۪۫۫ ༄ؘ ˑ

— headcanons:

nothing yet…

ˑ༄ؘ ۪۫۫ ▹ ꜱᴜɢᴀᴡᴀʀᴀ ᴋᴏꜱʜɪ ◃ ۪۫۫ ༄ؘ ˑ

— headcanons:

nothing yet…

ˑ༄ؘ ۪۫۫ ▹ ᴅᴀɪᴄʜɪ ꜱᴀᴡᴀᴍᴜʀᴀ ◃ ۪۫۫ ༄ؘ ˑ

— headcanons:

nothing yet…

ˑ༄ؘ ۪۫۫ ▹ ᴀꜱᴀʜɪ ᴀᴢᴜᴍᴀɴᴇ ◃ ۪۫۫ ༄ؘ ˑ

— headcanons:

nothing yet…

ˑ༄ؘ ۪۫۫ ▹ ᴛᴀᴅᴀꜱʜɪ ʏᴀᴍᴀɢᴜᴄʜɪ ◃ ۪۫۫ ༄ؘ ˑ

— headcanons:

nothing yet…

ˑ༄ؘ ۪۫۫ ▹ ʀʏᴜɴᴏꜱᴜᴋᴇ ᴛᴀɴᴀᴋᴀ ◃ ۪۫۫ ༄ؘ ˑ

— headcanons:

nothing yet…

— WHERE THE KARASUNO BOYS WOULD TAKE YOU ON A DATE!

FEATURING! — hinata shouyo, kageyama tobio, sugawara koushi, daichi sawamura

WARNINGS! — none! all soft! mild cursing

CONTENT! — karasuno boys x gn reader

A/N! — another draft that’s been sitting here. made some final touches so i hope you guys enjoy!

HINATA would take you to the park! there’s just so much for the two of you to do. you could hang out on the jungle gyms, take a scenic walk, play volleyball, have a picnic, play volleyball, cloud watch, and of course, play volleyball! yes, he would probably ask you to play and if you agree, his eyes would light up. he’d take you to ukai’s shop for some meat buns afterwards and the two of you would just talk and eat as he walked you home. you feel really tired, but the good kind of tired, where you’re just happy and sleepy and you know you’re gonna knock out as soon as your head hits the pillow. you kiss hinata’s cheek as a thank you and smile as the poor boy turns red.

KAGEYAMA would take you to karasuno’s volleyball court! yes, you heard that right. kageyama’s entire life has always revolved solely around volleyball, and he’s never had an experience with girls. hence why he decided to take you to the place he loves most. he convinces daichi to let him use the gym on one of their off days and he tells you to dress in something athletic. you guys pretty much pass the time tossing and receiving as you exchange questions and answers to one another. afterwards, you guys sit outside the gym panting as you take in the sunset. kageyama buys you something from the vending machine and as you’re walking back to the gym to pick up your stuff, you take his hand in your own. kageyama panics a little but eases into it, giving your hand a squeeze that you reciprocate as reassurance. it was an odd date but you weren’t complaining.

SUGAWARA takes you on a breakfast date! he shows up at your doorstep with flowers and you feel the butterflies go absolutely insane in your stomach. suga introduces you to a quaint, hidden restaurant that he claims serves the best breakfast in the prefecture. you find it a little hard to believe but you go along with it, and damn, are you in for a shock. the food was to die for, and sugawara just sat with a smile on his face as he watched you practically melt after taking the first bite. you guys make steady conversation about your childhood, funniest memories, and goals and you relish in the way it’s so easy to talk to him. your legs find his at one point during the conversation and they intertwine under the table. it feels very warm and welcoming—sugawara feels warm and welcoming. he pays even after you insist to split the check and as a thank you, you buy him a cute little dessert.

DAICHI takes you on to a dinner date! he’s a classic kind of guy, so he’s obviously gonna take you to a nice dinner. remember, he is literally a teenager, so don’t expect some grand five star restaurant, but it’s definitely nicer than what you’re used to (your cheeks flare up at seeing daichi dressed so formally). he pulls out all the classic date etiquette such as: opening the car door for you, holding the door, pulling out your chair, giving you his blazer when you get cold, etc. while the whole thing was a bit overwhelming at first, daichi eases you into it was his soothing voice and kind smile. daichi openly expresses when he first started developing feelings for you and you sort of die a little at how direct he is. he admits he’s like to go on more dates with you in hopes of the two of you becoming something official and you practically choke on your food

sneaking into the kitchen with kageyama tobio to warm up some milk for you both to drink bc it’s just SO cold. bonus points if you guys eat bread along with it … or cookies … or even oreos!! playfully pointing out each other’s milk moustaches, maybe even snapping a picture of it for the memories! <3

A/N: I saw a fanart of Adlers Kageyama and he looked real fine, and thought, “Damn, I don’t write him much.” Btw, my directory/fic links are going to be under maintenance. Can’t find time to figure out what’s wrong with them and update them. ( >_< )

Warnings: NSFW, PWP, Thirst Drabble

Kageyama’s never been good with words, and even in bed, that doesn’t change. Despite the many times you’ve had sex together, for him it still feels like the first time every time he sinks his leaking cock into your dripping pussy. A loud, low groan escaping his lips as he clenched his eyes, willing himself not to cum early.

He’s never been good with words, but he can’t help rambling broken thoughts of how good you feel. “Nng, f-fuck, so good– pussy so tight, ngh–” Always wanting to please, always wanting to cater to your needs, he tries his best every time, never wanting to hurt you. But he never notices how tightly his hands are grabbing your hips, sure to leave bruises in the morning. He doesn’t realize how fast and hard he’s thrusting into you, making sure to pull out almost completely before slamming back in. His mind absolutely wrecked, only forming barely coherent thoughts he mutters, “Fu-fuck, wanna fill you up– hah, so wet. Ngh– such a pretty, tight pussy.”

His dark eyes never look away from your pussy split open by his cock, even in the dark taking note of how you’re soaking his dick; doesn’t miss the sheen on your inner thighs when you came from his fingers earlier. Even when you pull him down for a kiss, he’d end up pulling away just to see your cunt fluttering around him. He’d even beg sometimes before he puts it in, “Please, please, spread that pretty cunt for me. Wanna see. Wanna see it beg for me before I fill it up.”

Kageyama’s never been good with words and remains to be the quiet sort even to adulthood. But he can’t help his loud moans of your name as he fucks you with abandon, chanting your name and singing praises how good you’re taking him, how pretty you look matching his moans, how he pleads to fill you up then paint your tits with his cum – “My fucking, perfect angel,”  he’ll gasp finally looking at you as if you hung the stars.

When he finally spills into you with a cry of your name and a confession of his love, Kageyama will slump over you, panting heavily. He tries to find reason – to kiss you or clean you up; but when you clench around him, all he can do is whimper as his hips automatically start grinding against you. His overstimulated cock still inside you rubbing against your sensitive walls, making the both of you cry out. But you simply lock your legs around his hips, cooing hushed encouragement of “Tobio, more, ruin me more, please.”  As he chokes back a sob, his rough voice somehow manages to sound wrecked and yet hot at the same time. “Fuck, baby, wanna fill you up again. Please, please let me.”