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seijorhi · 8 months

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Wither and Bleed

sorry for the wait y'all <33 Daishou Suguru x female reader, Kuroo Tetsurou x female reader w.c 4.6k tw: dubcon, yandere themes, kidnapping, nsfw, stockholm syndrome, mentions of blood, alcoholism, mild smut

Daishou eyes the bottom of his glass dispassionately, watching the amber dregs of whiskey roll as he slowly tilts it – pointedly ignoring the sound of footsteps approaching, the low, mocking whistle that follows.

“I’d say it’s good to see you, Daishou, but I gotta be honest, this place is a dump and you look like shit.”

There’s a flush high on his cheekbones, his eyes are glazed, bloodshot. Despite the heaviness in his head, the liquor fuelled haze and exhaustion that makes pulling a coherent train of thought… somewhat difficult, he’s not so far gone that he can’t recognise the grating voice and accompanying laugh.

One more. One more, and maybe then he’ll stumble off home to continue drinking in peace. That, or he’ll pass out the second he hits the couch. At this point, he’s not picky.

“Another,” he rasps at the bartender, whose only response, aside from the surly look he sends Daishou’s way, is to unscrew the cap of the bottle of cheap whiskey and tilt it back over his glass. Glaring, all the while.

Once upon a time, Daishou might’ve said something to that. Made some snarky remark, goaded him ‘til he got a rise – or got his ass thrown out.

(You’d chide him for it, too, in that exasperated tone of yours. He’d be tempted to think you were serious, but you’d sigh, call him hopeless and your hand would snake in his on the walk home anyway.)

Disdainful sneers, the staring, the whispers and pointing, baldie behind the bar wouldn’t be the first stranger to recognise him. Daishou can’t even blame the guy, really. A woman goes missing, all eyes turn to the husband. The boyfriend. The ex. He might be a piece of work, depending on who you asked –an asshole, arrogant, a conniving son of a bitch – but hell would freeze over before he’d ever lay a hand on his girl. On any girl.

So, yeah, he gets why the guy’s staring at him like he’s the scum of the earth. Doesn’t make it any less of a bitter pill to swallow.

“You planning on ignoring me, then?”

“Trying to,” he mutters, accepting the drink with a short dip of his chin. The whiskey burns on the way down, warming his chest through. Bottom shelf liquor’s too cheap to enjoy for much else. Daishou closes his eyes, “Leave me alone.”

And that stupid, suit-wearing, smug asshole laughs, and pulls out the seat next to him.

Fucking terrific.

Kuroo tuts, motioning at the bartender for a drink of his own, “Aw, c’mon. That’s no way to greet an old friend, is it?” He waits a beat for the reaction that doesn’t come, the mirth in his eyes fading somewhat, then sighs. In a more sober voice, he says, “I heard Yotsuya Motors dropped you. I’m sorry, man.”

The muscle in his jaw tightens, his knuckles turning white. Dropped was a good way of putting it. Closer to the truth than the bullshit story they’d peddled online and to the fans, the one wherein Daishou and the Yotsuya Motor Spirits had amicably reached the decision to part ways before the beginning of the new season.

‘This isn’t a position any of us want to be in, Suguru. You’re a good player, you’ve done well this past season, but you have to consider how this looks for both the team and the V League as a whole. We’re not saying you’ve done anything wrong – of course not – only that the public perception holds weight these days.’

And so it went. He’d sat there, numb, and listened for fifteen minutes while the head coach and upper management explained that him ‘voluntarily’ stepping down was in his best interest. Pretending, all the while, that they were on his side. That they for one second actually believed in his innocence.

The cowards couldn’t even look him in the eye.

None of which makes enduring his old rival’s fake fucking sympathy any easier.

“For what it’s worth,” Kuroo continues, “while you’ve always been a cheating rat bastard, you don’t strike me as the girlfriend murdering kind–”

One minute, his drink is in his hand, the next, he’s hurled it against the wall behind Kuroo’s head, the glass shattering on impact, cheap whiskey sliding down the paint, and Daishou’s on his feet, chest heaving, muscles taut. Hands shaking as they flex and curl around nothing.

For once, Kuroo’s stunned into absolute silence.

The whole bar stills, a deathly quiet falling over the room. The other patrons gawk at him, wide eyed and horrified – a violent unravelling they’re eager to glut themselves on – no noise but the forgotten hum of 80’s rock drifting through the speakers.

No one breathes.

No one moves.

Daishou, shaking, trembling in the cold wake of his own dissipating rage, shudders out a strangled breath. “She’s not–” the words stick in his throat; tight, painful. He forces them out through gritted teeth, “She’s not dead.”

Kuroo, staring back at him with some inscrutable expression, says nothing. Does nothing, aside from slowly lowering his drink – still untouched – down to the bar, as though Daishou hadn’t just pitched a glass tumbler right past his head. At his head, technically.

“Out,” the bartender snaps after a tense beat, jabbing one thick finger towards the door. “Get the fuck out!”

Daishou can barely hear him over the ringing in his ears.

“She’s not dead,” he repeats, his voice hoarse.

Through all of this, it’s the one thought he won’t entertain. No matter how many times he’s hauled back into the police station, or someone recognises him from the news and the dirty looks and whispers start. No matter how much hatred and vitriol and accusations are thrown his way, that thought alone is constant.

You can’t be dead.

“Out!”

Daishou doesn’t need to be told a third time. He spares the raven haired bastard one last look on his way out, sneering, and lets the door sweep shut behind him.

The place was a shithole anyway.

And he can pretend, for a minute or two, that the churning, sick feeling eating away at his insides is the liquor, that the sheen in his eyes is purely due to the icy bite of the wind as he stumbles off in the direction of home.

Too much alcohol flooding his veins, too screwed up to register the prickling on the nape of his neck, or the footsteps that follow after him, down the narrow laneway – a shortcut he’s taken a thousand times.

When the blow comes, striking hard and fast at the back of his head, Daishou drops like a stone.

—

When Daishou was seven years old, he fell out of the tree in his backyard and broke his arm. He also managed to knock himself out – for all of about five seconds.

Long enough to scare the hell out of his parents, anyway. When he woke up, bleary and dazed, his parents hovering over him, Daishou didn’t feel any pain, not immediately. That’d come later, trying not to blubber and wail in the back seat of his dad’s car on the way to the E.R. At first, though, it was just… sort of like being shaken from a deep, deep sleep. Disorientating, more than anything else.

This isn’t like that at all.

Coming to, all Daishou can focus on is the pain in the back of his skull. His eyes are too heavy to lift, his limbs sluggish and sore. From a dry, cotton mouth, a low groan escapes him.

At first, he assumes he’s at home – lying sprawled on the bathroom floor, having hurled up his guts through the night. Wouldn’t be the first time, and considering his sorry state, he’d hazard a guess that it wouldn’t be the last, either.

“Suguru.”

Warmth. A loosening in his chest. Despite the discomfort, the sound of your voice never fails to soothe. In the weeks that you’ve been missing, Daishou’s dreamed of waking up beside you. Of rolling over and cracking an eye open to find you right there, fast asleep and curled up beside him, where you’ve always been.

Where you’ve always belonged.

You stir when his fingertips trace along your jaw, smile in that sleepy way of yours, catching his hand, keeping him there. And even in his dream, when there’s no reason for his chest to tighten, a lump to settle in his throat at the sight of you, it does.

“Suguru, listen to me!” your voice pleads.

There are other dreams, ones where you’re lying on the living room floor surrounded by a pool of blood. There’s a kitchen knife sticking out of your chest, and he’s the one holding it.

Daishou prefers the ones where you’re alive. Safe. Home with him.

“You have to wake up.”

Why? He wakes up and you disappear again. Cheek pressed to the cold bathroom tiles, sick to his stomach and head throbbing.

And you still won’t be there.

“Please.” Your voice sounds… different. Not soft and loving, not the sleep tinged murmur he usually hears. “Please, Suguru, you’ve gotta wake up! Open your eyes for me.”

Daishou doesn’t want to. Pounding head or not, he’d stay in the dark with you – your voice, strained as it is – as long as his subconscious would allow. But that’s not a choice he gets to make, leaden lids slowly prying open, squinting under the influx of light.

The first day or two after you disappeared, Daishou convinced himself that despite all the evidence to the contrary, you weren’t gone gone. An accident, a miscommunication, dead phone, fuck, a fight he didn’t remember picking; he clung to any excuse, any explanation that left room for you walking through the door, sheepishly abashed over all the fuss caused.

He would’ve forgiven you – for anything.

The days passed, the cops came by, dragged him in for questioning, and Daishou started to realise that you weren’t staying with your parents, or a friend. You weren’t pissed at him for something stupid he did or said. You weren’t coming home on your own.

Which left the alternative.

People who disappear like you did; out of the blue, no warning, no trace – they don’t come back unscathed.

If they come back.

Daishou’s had weeks now to sit with that – while he drowns himself in bottom shelf whiskey and cheap beer, wallowing in his own fucking misery, you’re going through an unimaginable hell.

Blinking against the brightness, the room slowly comes into focus, his eyes adjusting, and Daishou’s heart leaps into his throat. He forgets the pain. Forgets that he’s spent weeks – months, now – thinking over every awful eventuality and drinking himself stupid in the process. All he sees is you; sitting up in bed, hair tousled, wearing an old, faded tee two sizes too big, looking the way you do in the dreams he has where you never disappeared.

“Suguru,” you gasp, the noise choked, halfway to a sob, your wobbling smile mired by the sheen of tears brimming behind your lashes.

But Daishou doesn’t see that. Doesn’t register it, not as he scrambles forward, his desperation to touch you, feel you, make sure you’re here and you’re real overriding every other sense–

Only for the cold, metal handcuffs hooked from his wrist to the broken radiator to pull taut, jerking him to a stop.

“… The fuck?” he mutters, eyebrows pinching together in confusion. Experimentally, he tugs on it again.

It doesn’t budge.

Daishou swallows, mouth dry, blood running cold, and as this new, unsettling reality takes root, slowly drags his gaze from his cuffed hand back to the bed. To you, watching him with a devastation that has his heart clenching.

Wrong, wrong, wrong, his subconscious sings, the warning bells tolling, and for the first time since he opened his eyes in this unfamiliar room, Daishou sees you.

The mottled marks of red and purple, fading yellow littered across your exposed collarbone, trailing along your neck. The shadows under bloodshot eyes, the pallor of your skin.

And Daishou remembers.

“I’m sorry,” you tell him through tears, the words spilling out as though you’re confessing some great, unforgivable sin. “It’s my fault, Suguru. It’s all my fault.”

His mouth opens – all that comes out is a strangled rasp of your name, which only serves to make you cry harder, shoulders shaking and a hand clamped over your lips to stifle them.

Daishou’s never wanted to wake up from a nightmare so badly. He’s never wanted so desperately to pinch himself and prove he’s not dreaming.

But at the sound of footsteps approaching, a change sweeps over you. You stiffen, freezing for the briefest of moments before you hastily set about wiping away the evidence of tears, shooting him a pleading, desperate look he doesn’t really understand.

Not until the deadbolt clicks and the door swings open, and Daishou’s confronted with the man who took everything from him.

One by one, the pieces fall into place with horrifying clarity.

The bar, their ‘chance’ meeting, all that goading– ‘For what it’s worth, while you’ve always been a cheating rat bastard, you don’t strike me as the girlfriend murdering kind.’

A small, insane part of him wants to laugh hysterically.

He settles for a baser instinct. Strains against the chain at his wrist, face twisted into a feral snarl, and hisses, “You fucking asshole.”

Kuroo’s eyes crinkle with a grin, but his attention doesn’t remain on Daishou for long. On cue, you shuffle to the edge of the bed, shoulders low and eyes glistening. “I-I’m sorry, Tetsurou,” you murmur, meek and demure.

The fucker laps it right up. Coos as he makes his way over, disregarding his other captive entirely. Two long fingers curl beneath your chin, tilting it upwards. He holds you there, lets his thumb brush along your lower lip. You shiver, and that too he greedily drinks in.

He doubts very much that Kuroo’s forgotten about him, yet the way he stares at you – insatiable, a craving that goes too deep, a yearning too consuming – and you back at him, Daishou may as well have been invisible

A wave of disgust seeps through his bones, tainting his blood, curdling in his stomach – but he doesn’t look away. He can’t bear that, either.

When Kuroo finally decides to close that gap and kiss you, you don’t offer a shred of hesitation. You surrender to it, breath hitching when he catches your lip between his teeth and nips at it–

(The way you used to when he’d do the same.)

–and when he breaks away, a strand of his spit still connecting you, and moves to cup your tear stained cheek, you nuzzle into him, peppering soft little kisses to his palm.

“I know, sweetheart,” he drawls, his voice a touch deeper, clearly affected by how sweetly you’re trying to pacify him. “But actions gotta have consequences. I warned you what’d happen if you brought him up again,” he pauses, and chuckles a little, “and you know I’m too much of a jealous bastard to let that kinda stuff slide.”

Hooded, hazel eyes flicker back to him, pinning him in place. The amusement in Kuroo’s face fades, leaving behind a blistering cold contempt as he regards his old high school rival.

Daishou sneers back.

“You said you loved him.”

“I don’t,” comes the immediate response. Too quick.

Kuroo scoffs. “You still mumble his damn name in your sleep. He the one you’re imagining when I’m buried inside of you, making you cum, sweetheart?”

You’re fucking right it is, you piece of shit, Daishou thinks viciously. The words themselves sit on the tip of his tongue, prideful and sharp, itching to be inflicted. Damn the consequences, he might’ve said it just to see the look on that bastard’s face – except Kuroo isn’t even looking his way. Isn’t paying him the slightest bit of attention, idly toying with a lock of your hair as if you aren’t clutching at him, eyes betraying your panic like a deer in headlights, and Daishou feels sick all over again.

What the fuck is wrong with him?

“N-no, of course not!”

“No?” Kuroo’s brow arches upwards. “You sure ‘bout that?”

There’s no answer you can give that’ll convince him, yet silence proves equally damning. You seem to realise as much, mouth opening and closing as you try and fail to conjure up the right words to diffuse the situation. Kuroo offers you no out, letting you dig your own grave with the shovel he’s given you, taking some kind of sick satisfaction in your distress.

Unable to summon anything more than a choked squeak, you stretch upwards again, a delicate hand on his jaw, and kiss him. The action is desperate and clumsy, borne from panic over passion or affection. Kuroo accepts it eagerly all the same, one arm snaking around your waist to draw you closer – or rather, to keep you from slipping away ‘til he’s had his fill of your lips. “I love you,” you murmur against him. “Only you.”

Though they’re shaky, the words stand stronger than those that came before.

His nose nudges against your own, a look of contentment gracing his features. “Not yet, but we’ll get you there. On your knees, pretty girl.”

Your face crumples in dismay, lips parting only to fall shut with an audible click. As Kuroo’s grip on you loosens, you obediently slide off the bed and onto your knees.

“Arms up.”

Trembling like a leaf and looking faintly ill, you obey, letting him tug your shirt – his shirt, from the looks of it – up and over your head, carelessly tossing it aside. And though you flinch, biting down on your bottom lip, eyes glossy, burning with shame and humiliation, you don’t make a move to cover yourself.

You must know better.

His blood roars, heart thundering violently against his ribs. There’s no pretending he doesn’t see the love bites and bruises spanning your chest, nor the smug, triumphant look in that fucker’s eyes when he notices Daishou looking, his body tensed, shaking with barely contained fury.

Kuroo strokes your cheek, “Keep your eyes on me. Just you ‘n me, yeah?”

You nod. Without prompting you reach for his belt, the clinking of metal and the hiss of Kuroo’s zipper rattling in his skull, the deep, husky groan that slips from his lips when your fingers slide into his pants and curl around his cock, pulling it out.

“Good girl,” he purrs.

Daishou doesn’t want to watch you kiss a trail from Kuroo’s navel down to his cock. He doesn’t want to see the way your thumb swirls along the head of his dick, smearing his pre only for your tongue to follow its path, lapping it right up.

He doesn’t wanna watch you lick your lips, lean in and suck Kuroo’s cock like a well trained slut while he palms at your tits, but between the rage and disgust and the nausea crawling up the back of his throat, Daishou’s frozen in place.

Guided by the not-so-gentle grip he has on the back of your hair, you take more of him into your mouth with every bob of your head, your other hand diligently working away at what doesn’t fit. He allows it for a minute or two, watching you try your best to take all of him with a hiss of pleasure.

Eventually, though, greed wins out. Kuroo’s hips cant forward, bucking past your lips to force his cock deeper, grazing the back of your throat. Eyes widening, you make a surprised noise and try to pull back, allow yourself a little breathing room to set a pace you're comfortable with, but Kuroo’s having none of it. He growls once in warning, grip tightening around your hair, holding you in place, and begins to fuck your face in earnest.

“That’s my good – little – whore,” he grunts, each word punched out with another cruel thrust of his hips.

The sounds of you gagging on the dick in your mouth, your choked little whines and whimpers burn through Daishou like wildfire, igniting something deep. A faint stirring in his gut he wishes, more than anything, he could smother entirely.

He doesn’t look away.

It’s only when the lack of oxygen becomes too much and you claw at Kuroo’s thighs, tears streaming down your face that he finally relents, letting you pop off his dick with a heaving gasp. With nothing else to tether you, you collapse against his legs, boneless and panting, your eyes fluttering shut.

They crack open, however, looking up when his hand comes to a rest on the crown of your head, “Say it again. I want to hear it.”

The demand takes a moment to process, but you swallow and tell him what he wants to hear. “I love you, Tetsu. More than anyone.”

He grins, lazily stroking your hair, “I know, sweetheart. Now c’mon, up on the bed. I’ve been been dreaming of your perfect little pussy all day, wanna fuck you properly.”

—

Hours pass. Half a day, a day. Maybe longer. There’s no light down here, no windows to track the path of the sun, the shadows creeping across the floor, but he can feel the endless drag of seconds and minutes ticking like a slow suffocation.

After fucking you to the edge of exhaustion, Kuroo had carried you out, cradled to his chest like something precious, and left him alone in the dark.

Left Daishou to scream and rage and cry like a fucking baby. It doesn’t help any. His bones and muscles ache, the skin of his wrist rubbed raw trying to move to a position that doesn’t scream with discomfort, the cold, unforgiving floor beneath him offering no relief. Mere feet away lies the bed Kuroo fucked you on, with its pillows and blankets, soft, plush mattress.

With his eyes adjusting to the complete lack of light, Daishou can only make out a vague shape in the darkness. In some kind of fucked up way, he decides it’s a blessing in disguise.

Being able to see the bed’s another cruelty, the promise of comfort and warmth when he’s shivering and cold and lying in his own filth, placed just out of reach. And while the thought of lying in the sheets he’d fucked you in (raped you in, a voice reminds him) makes his stomach turn, he’s not so sure that given the chance, he wouldn’t shove those thoughts aside for a soft reprieve and a few hours of rest.

Some messed up part of him wonders if the pillows and sheets still smell like you.

So no, it’s a good thing he can’t really see the bed, or the door, or much of anything, really.

Besides, it isn’t the hunger pangs or the lack of sleep or the dull, throbbing pain from his joints that bother him the most, it’s the feeling of inhaling razor blades doused in fire he’s subjected to with every shallow, rattling breath. The last taste of water he’d had… would’ve been before the bar, however long ago that was. Too long. More than a warm bed, more than food or freedom from the cuff around his wrist, Daishou thinks he’d just about kill for a single sip of water to wet his throat.

More than likely, that’s the whole fucking point.

Left to rot in the darkness, Daishou has plenty of time on his hands to think, musing over the bed in this little windowless room, and the other door he suspects must lead to a bathroom. That asshole went to some effort in getting him here, he’ll admit, but he doubts all this was solely for his benefit.

You were here when he came to; obviously he’d kept you down here, the question was for how long? Did he keep you chained up and hungry in the dark when you wouldn’t play nice? The way you’d melted for him, the affection, the goddamn look in your eyes when you’d said that bastard’s fucking name–

The fear that’d shone there when you’d said his.

Daishou knows from the depths of whatever’s left of him, that he could never, ever hate you. If he starves to death alone down here, if you’re the one to plunge a dagger into his heart yourself, if you forget all about him and buy into the delusional fucking nightmare that psychotic prick keeps peddling, he’d love you. That much is immutable.

But hatred’s too soft a word for the thorn riddled vines that sprout and twist inside of him, ripping away at muscle and flesh, choking his organs, his veins, everything that he is – because of Kuroo.

When he hears those footsteps again, the clicking of the altogether unnecessary locks, Daishou can’t help the wide grin that cracks at his face. “Was wonderin’ when you’d come back down to gloat,” he croaks, manages a laugh too, though it feels like dragging his vocal cords over sandpaper.

Having flicked the light switch on (half blinding Daishou in the process) Kuroo fixes him with a sardonic smirk. “Missing me already?”

“Hate waiting around.”

“Ah well, what can I say? I had better things to do.” His smirk broadens, a cruel glint under too bright fluorescent light as he plops himself down on the bed Daishou’s been doing his utmost to ignore and stretches out, rolling his shoulder and neck. “Prettier things.”

A stab of something dark and ugly wrenches between his ribs.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” he spits through cracked, dry lips, and before he can think better of it, adds, “Mommy didn’t love you enough, Kuroo? That what this is?”

Kuroo doesn’t snap the way he expects him to. He doesn’t lash out like he would’ve when they were hot headed teenagers desperate to grind the other into the dirt and lord it over them. The muscle in his jaw jumps and his eyes narrow, sharpen – but his expression is quick to smooth over. Water off a duck’s back. He lets out an amused snort, rising from the bed.

“Y’know, as entertaining as it was watching you self-destruct, losing your volleyball career, your fans, friends, all those nights you spent searching for her at the bottom of a bottle – and it was entertaining, believe me – I think I like this better.”

A short, sharp burst of pain. Warm copper spills over his tongue.

“You’re not gonna survive this. Even you’re smart enough to have realised that much.” He crouches down low, at eye-level, just out of reach, appraising him with a tilted head – as though Daishou’s some whimpering puppy at the pound.

Daishou’s not a fucking puppy.

“Most likely it’ll be the dehydration that kills you first,” Kuroo continues. “That only takes a few days, but with water, you could probably make it two, three weeks before your body starves itself to death – plenty of time for your muscles to begin to atrophy, which’ll be painful as hell, not to mention how bad the isolation’s gonna fuck you up. And who knows, maybe I’ll be nice and bring you something to drink every now and then, throw you some scraps from dinner. I might even let you out of those cuffs for an hour or two, so you can walk around down here, stretch those legs of yours before they completely shrivel up… But you won’t see her again, ever.”

Scowling and hateful, Daishou spits at Kuroo and bares bloody teeth.

Kuroo wants to treat him like a dog, fine – but wolves gnaw through flesh and bone to free themselves from hunting traps, and he ain’t about to just keel over with a whimper and make this easy for him.

“Go fuck yourself.”

Tension crackles through the air like an oncoming storm.

Daishou falls back against the radiator, breathing heavy and Kuroo wipes at his cheek with the pad of his thumb and huffs out a dry laugh, eyeing the bloody digit. Looking back at Daishou, he stands. “You look thirsty, I’ll go get you some water. Can’t have you croaking on us just yet.”

He’ll bite his fucking throat out if he has to.

#yandere haikyuu #yandere kuroo x reader #yandere kuroo #yandere kuroo tetsurous x reader #yandere kuroo tetsurou #tw: dubcon

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kavtsuki · 1 year

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everything i post will have adequate warnings and tags applied, but for the safety of everyone here i ask that you please make sure to read this post carefully before sending in a request. requests are currently : 𝐎𝐏𝐄𝐍 !!

𝐑𝐔𝐋𝐄𝐒 : 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆

i write fluff, angst, smut, headcanons ❪ max five characters ❫, drabbles, alternate universes, and short stories ❪ 5k+ words ❫.

i post some taboo content that anyone under the age of eighteen is not allowed to like, reblog, or interact with. those types of posts will have a "minors do not interact" on it.

i also write stuff that may include age gaps, poly/threesome+, dubcon, incest, toy play, light bdsm, breath play, praise and light degradation, supernatural ❪ i.e. omegaverse, werewolf, vampire, etc. may include knotting in certain cases ❫, choking, stepcest, mommy/daddy kink ❪ to an extent ❫, and dacryphilia.

i will not write about cheating ❪ on the reader's behalf ❫, manipulation, abuse, etc. however, i will write about the reader being cheated on ❪ although not explicitly; mostly just mentioned in passing ❫.

i write strictly male!character x fem! or gn!reader !! i do not write character x character pairings.

i highly suggest reading the warnings on every story that i create in case anything included is possibly triggering for you as a reader. do not proceed to read any story of mine before you have safely comprehended what you are about to read.

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐆𝐔𝐈𝐃𝐄

HARRY POTTER UNIVERSE . . . harry james potter, ronald weasley, neville longbottom, draco malfoy, blaise zabini, theodore nott, dean thomas, fred weasley, george weasley, bill weasley, cedric diggory, oliver wood, james potter, sirius black, remus lupin, sebastian sallow and ominis gaunt.

THE BAD BATCH . . . all of the bad batch members ❪ excluding omega ❫.

DC UNIVERSE . . . bruce wayne ❪ gotham version, battinson version, and comics version ❫, jason todd ❪ red hood, titans, and arkham knight version ❫, dick grayson ❪ nightwing, young justice, and titans version ❫, tim drake ❪ young justice and comics version ❫, damian wayne ❪ comics version ❫, wally west ❪ young justice version ❫, garfield logan ❪ titans version ❫, conner kent ❪ titans and young justice version ❫, and jaime reyes ❪ young justice version ❫.

GOD OF WAR . . . kratos, heimdall, brok, sindri, thor, freyr, mimir ❪ before beheading ❫ and baldur.

ASSASSIN'S CREED: VALHALLA . . . male!eivor varinsdottir, sigurd styrbjornson, vili hemmingson, hrolfr/rollo, ubba ragnarsson, hytham, basim ibn ishaq, otta sluggason, aelfred the great, and leofrith.

MARVEL UNIVERSE . . . bucky barnes ❪ the winter soldier ❫, stephen strange ❪ doctor strange ❫, peter parker ❪ andrew garfield and tom holland’s versions ❫, and pietro maximoff ❪ quicksilver ❫.

HAIKYUU . . . all of karasuno, all of nekoma, all of aoba johsai, all of date tech, all of shiratorizawa, and all of inarizaki. other characters include takeru nakashima from wakutani south, yuudai hyakuzawa from kakugawa high, suguru daishou, kouji hiroo and isumi sakishima from nohebi academy, and sakusa kiyoomi and motoya komori from itachiyama institute.

BOKU NO HERO ACADEMIA . . . all of class 1-A and all of the league of villains. other characters include mirio togata and tamaki amajiki from the big three, tetsutetsu tetsutetsu, sen kaibara, and neito monoma from class 1-B, hitoshi shinsou from the department of general education, yo shindo from ketsubutsu academy, inasa yoarashi from shiketsu high, and pro heroes shouta aizawa ❪ eraserhead ❫, keigo takami ❪ hawks ❫, taishiro toyomitsu ❪ fatgum ❫, toshinori yagi ❪ all might ❫, enji todoroki ❪ endeavor ❫, tensei iida ❪ original ingenium ❫, and mirai sasaki ❪ sir nighteye ❫.

JUJUTSU KAISEN . . . inumaki toge, gojou satoru, chousou, ryoumen sukuna, kento nanami, junpei yoshino, aoi todo, itadori yuuji, and megumi fushiguro.

BUNGOU STRAY DOGS . . . all of the armed detective agency and all of the port mafia. other characters include edgar allan poe and mark twain from the guild, and fyodor dostoevsky from the decay of angels.

DEMON SLAYER . . . tanjiro kamado, zenitsu agatsuma, inosuke hashibira, and giyuu tomioka. other characters include kyoujurou rengoku from the hashira group, genya shinazugawa also from the demon slayer corp, and yushiro the demon.

KUROKO NO BASKET. . . all of seirin high school. all of the generation of miracles, yukio kasamatsu from kaijou high school, takao kazunari from shuutoku high school, tatsuya himuro from yousen high school, and reo mibuchi and kotarou hayama from rakuzan high school.

ATTACK ON TITAN . . . all of the scout regiment. other characters include marco bodt, moblit berner, and reiner braun and bertholdt hoover from the marleyan warriors.

TOKYO REVENGERS . . . manjiro sano ( mikey ), takashi mitsuya, shinichiro sano, naoto tachibana, ken ryuguji ❪ draken ❫, atsushi sendo, chifuyu matsuno, baji kaisuke, kazutora hanemiya, ran haitani, rindou haitani, nahoya kawata ❪ smiley ❫, hajime kokonoi, wakasa imaushi, and souya kawata ❪ angry ❫.

OBEY ME . . . lucifer, mammon, leviathan, beelzebub, belphegor, simeon and diavolo.

VOLTRON: LEGENDARY DEFENDERS . . . keith kogane, lance mcclain, and lotor.

MYSTIC MESSENGER . . . hyun ryu ❪ zen ❫, yoosung kim, jumin han, saeyoung choi ❪ seven/707 ❫, jihyun kim ❪ v ❫, and saeran choi ❪ ray/unknown ❫.

OTHERS . . . leon kennedy + chris redfield + carlos oliveira + ethan winters ❪ resident evil ❫, joel miller + tommy miller ❪ the last of us - video game version only ❫, steve harrington + eddie munson ❪ stranger things ❫, rick grimes + daryl dixon ❪ the walking dead ❫.

#.reqs

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bunniicassii · 1 year

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hi !! just some rules regarding roleplaying with me !! pls read before pm-ing me :)

𝐢. 𝐫𝐮𝐥𝐞𝐬

▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂

; im very new to tumblr but have been roleplaying for about 4 years !! if you’d like to rp on discord (which i slightly prefer) i will give you my tag once we talk for a bit :)

; i’d absolutely love to talk ooc !! i love talking to my rp partners and getting to know them !!

; pls dont control my character !!

; i dont do oc x cc, so please do not contact me if you are looking for that

; pls dont leave without telling me why !! & adding onto that pls tell me if there’s anything i can fix if you get bored etc.

; i am okay with smut / fluff / angst, whatever you’d like paired with any plot !!

𝐢𝐢. 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐲

▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂

; i prefer at least semi lit+ but i can write up to lit !!

𝐢𝐢𝐢. 𝐦𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐬

▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂

; suguru daishou

; kentarou kyoutani

; tooru oikawa

; kozume kenma

; kenjirou shirabu

; keiji akaashi

; kiyoomi sakusa

𝐢𝐯. 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 / 𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩𝐬

▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂

; kuroo x daishou

; terushima x daishou

; kyoutani x daishou

; kyoutani x yahaba

; iwaizumi x oikawa

; kuroo x oikawa

; kenma x kuroo

; semi x shirabu

; goshiki x shirabu

; tendou x shirabu

; taichi x shirabu

; bokuto x akaashi

; osamu x akaashi

; atsumu x sakusa

& many more rarepairs and such !! i’m fairly open to ships (though a few make me uncomfortable, ex: hinata ships) but i will let you know !! feel free to ask about rarepairs i am so down >:D

#haikyuu roleplay #haikyuu rp #discord roleplay #roleplay #1x1 rp #roleplay finder #roleplay partner ad #roleplay partner wanted #roleplay partner search

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ao3feed-iwaoi · 2 years

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Haikyuu!! Fluff&Smut Shots

Read this masterpiece on AO3 at https://ift.tt/Iz3p2Ah

by Cassanova_418

I haven't done this in a while........ :")

Notice how I didn't want to put in all the characters. All characters are 18 or older :)

Mostly smut shots....because I have a month left of summer break. Don't expect a good job on this. I passed English with a mere A-.

Words: 3114, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English

Fandoms: Haikyuu!!

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Categories: M/M

Characters: Kageyama Tobio, Hinata Shouyou, Sawamura Daichi, Sugawara Koushi, Azumane Asahi, Nishinoya Yuu, Tanaka Ryuunosuke, Ennoshita Chikara, Iwaizumi Hajime, Oikawa Tooru, Aone Takanobu, Futakuchi Kenji, Moniwa Kaname, Kamasaki Yasushi, Inuoka Sou, Shibayama Yuuki, Kuguri Naoyasu, Daishou Suguru, Hiroo Kouji, Kuroo Tetsurou, Kozume Kenma, Yamaguchi Tadashi, Tsukishima Kei, Sakusa Kiyoomi, Miya Atsumu, Miya Osamu

Relationships: Hinata Shouyou/Kageyama Tobio, Sawamura Daichi/Sugawara Koushi, Kuroo Tetsurou/Tsukishima Kei, Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou, Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru, Kozume Kenma/Yamamoto Taketora, Inuoka Sou/Kuguri Naoyasu/Shibayama Yuuki, Haiba Lev/Yaku Morisuke, Kindaichi Yuutarou/Kunimi Akira, Terushima Yuuji/Yamaguchi Tadashi, Miya Osamu/Suna Rintarou, Miya Atsumu/Sakusa Kiyoomi, Kita Shinsuke/Ojiro Aran, Takeda Ittetsu/Ukai Keishin, Tsukishima Akiteru/Udai Tenma, Konoha Akinori/Washio Tatsuki, Hanamaki Takahiro/Matsukawa Issei, Kyoutani Kentarou/Yahaba Shigeru, Daishou Suguru/Hiroo Kouji, Semi Eita/Shirabu Kenjirou, Tendou Satori/Ushijima Wakatoshi, Ennoshita Chikara/Tanaka Ryuunosuke, Aone Takanobu/Futakuchi Kenji, Kamasaki Yasushi/Moniwa Kaname, Azumane Asahi/Nishinoya Yuu

Additional Tags: One Shot Collection, Fluff and Smut, Crossdressing, Mpreg, Threesome - M/M/M, Shapeshifting, Shameless Smut, Anal Sex, Sex Toys, Shower Sex, Oral Sex, Romantic Fluff, Drinking, Omega Verse, Why Did I Write This?, I Don't Even Know

read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/Iz3p2Ah

#iwaoi #iwaizumi hajime #oikawa tooru #ao3feed-iwaoi #haikyuu!!

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ryusukeswife · 2 years

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𑁍 — fluff 𖤐 — agnst 𖦹 — smut 𖥻 — smau