#matsukawa issei angst

[chimielie]

ghost in the machine

summary: Matsukawa x F!Reader. sometimes two people love each other very much. sometimes they do terrible things to each other.

word count: 1k

cw: cheating, extremely toxic relationship, no one here is likable, breakup, no happy ending

a/n: my bad i was going through something. sorry to the seijoh community. enjoy?

Issei meets you at the train station. It's dry now, but it was raining earlier—his hair is sticking to his face, curling even more than usual in the humidity. He doesn't "believe" in using umbrellas, whatever that means, or in standing beneath the rain shelter, apparently.

"Hey," you say, affecting nonchalance. The look on his face is familiar to you, signalling further storms ahead. You put your hands in his and press your mouth into a little frown. "What's wrong?

"Don't act cute," he says, glancing away, but he doesn't take his hands out of your hold. "This is—hard enough."

Issei does this thing, when he's mad at you, taking longer and longer pauses as he speaks. Leaves you hanging and still chooses all the wrong words.

"Issei, what happened?" You say. You look around, but there's no one else at the station: it's a dismal day, and his workplace is out of the way of pretty much all other human life. Fitting.

He rubs a thumb over yours, slow, pensive.

"I'm just gonna rip the band-aid off," he says, and you almost snort. There's been nothing quick about this process. "I think we should stop seeing each other."

"Another break?" You ask, trying to keep your voice light. "So you can fuck your new building receptionist?"

That's not light. Oops.

"How do you—whatever. No. That's not it. Don't be like that."

"It's what it was last time," you say, frustrated. "And Makki mentioned that he thought she was hot, which means you think she is."

"I don't, and that's not even the point," he sighs. "See, this is what I mean."

"You do," you insist. "But what is your point?"

"My point," he grits, thumb rubbing harder, strong fingers digging into your flesh so hard it almost hurts. "Is that we need to end this. Not a break. We need to break up."

"No," you say, blinking away tears. "I thought we were working on things. I thought we were better."

He pauses again. You let yourself fill up with big, stupid hope, leaning a little closer to him. All you want is one of his hugs, warm and solid and loving. Love me, you want to sob, you don't love me?

You don't, because you would be proving his point. You don't want to guilt him. You don't want to hurt him. You feel nauseous. The whole world is wrong, everything is going wrong.

He doesn’t give you what you need.

"I feel sick," he echoes your thoughts. "All the time. What we're doing to each other—I care about you, I want you to be happy. We—I don't make you happy."

"You do," you plead. "No one else makes me happy like you."

"But that's, like, five percent of the time," he says, jerking you a little closer. You know it's subconscious and it makes you emit a little noise, soft, one you don't want him to hear. "The rest of the time we, we fight, and we get petty, and we act like kids. It's not what it should be."

"I don't care what it should be," you flash. "I don't want whatever it should be. I want this. I think it's worth it. I want to fight for it."

"Well, I don't!" His eyes are burning. You think there's something shimmering in his waterline. "I'm tired. It's—you jerk me around like bait, on a string. I am tired of taking breaks, and getting back at each other, and—"

"I jerk you around?" You say. "Issei, you suggested the first break, you slept with—"

"I know what I did," his voice sounds defeated even as you can hear the underlying anger—deeper, the underlying hurt. "That's what I'm saying, we're damaged, I really don't care whose fault it is."

"Except you clearly think it's mine," you argue. It’s fucked up, that this is what fighting for your love means; how twisted has your knight-and-princess story become?

“Shut up! Just stop—just stop talking for a second.” You press your fingers tentatively to the right corner of his temple and rub small circles into the skin, knowing that’s where he gets headaches from grinding his jaw when you’re driving him crazy. He lets you for a moment, then shakes his head, bats you away. “You shouldn’t let me talk to you like that.”

“I won’t,” you say. “You won’t talk to me like that anymore.”

“That’s so fucked up,” he chokes out a laugh. His dark eyes crease so prettily when he does. “Don’t do that. With the next guy—”

“There’s no next guy!” You yelp, fingers flexing, not sure what to hold on to. If he’s letting go of his jealousy—the world tilts dizzily. He used to tell you, face in a lazy cat smile, body warm and heavy atop yours, that you’d find your next boyfriends on his mortuary table. “What, Issei, there’s not gonna be anyone else ever.”

His lips twist into a sardonic smile. He lets go of you, his hands shaking like he’s just been shocked, cartoon-style, electricity working its way through his body. You reach for him and he shoves his hands in his pockets, lets you stumble over your feet.

“I know you slept with Makki,” Issei says grimly. You stop in your tracks.

“Oh.”

“Oh,” he agreed. “Yeah.”

There’s not a lot to say to that. It doesn’t matter that it was during the worst breakup, a year ago, that it was because you’d seen him kissing one of your friends at a party. It doesn’t matter that it had been a mistake.

“I’m sorry,” you say, and the tears are rolling down your face again. Or it’s started raining. Both. “I’m so sorry. I know.”

There’s an awful screech when the train arrives—his train, going deeper into the country. Yours, back to the city, is due in eight minutes. You can’t stop anything from leaving this station.

“It’s okay. It’s like you said,” he puts his hands on his shoulders, presses a lingering kiss to your forehead, his lips wet with cold rainwater. When did it start pouring? “He thought she was hot, so so did I. I love you, so so did he.”

[hanmaitani]

Overprotective

PAIRING - Bodyguard!Matsukawa x Reckless!Reader WC - 1.0K GENRE - angst CW - mentions of sex w someone else, sex mishaps - not necessarily non con/dub con but it is uncomfortable for reader and she does want him to stop, overprotective matsukawa, tell me if i missed something.

PREV PART | MASTERLIST | NEXT PART

Matsukawa really did try to stop listening when you had people over. But sometimes he couldn’t help it, especially when you were so damn loud. On purpose or not. He occasionally tried to be out of the apartment when you did, leaving a replacement bodyguard at the door if you needed something.

Tonight was one of those nights where he couldn’t get out of the apartment when you had someone over. His headphones were, regrettably, dead since he’d forgotten to charge them after their last use. Your laughter pierced through the wall that separated your room from his.

He’s busy trying to recall every terrible moment from his life and rank them, trying to ignore the sound of you and another man on the other side of the wall. It worked for a moment until he heard something that he never wanted to hear when you had someone over.

You’d been enjoying yourself to a decent extent with the man in your room. He was by no means the best you’d ever taken home, but you’d taken home much worse before as well. He was a decent kisser and he surely gave your chest enough attention as he laid you down on the bed.

It wasn’t uncommon for some of the men to forget all about giving attention to your breasts as they attempted to go straight for their end goal between your thighs. So you took his attention as a good sign. That is, until his hands were pulling your hips towards him without even attempting to prep you first.

“Wai-” you don’t even get the word out before he’s pushing into you and a sharp shriek curls out of your mouth, pain blurring your vision at the sudden feeling. “Slow down, it hurts-” your hands try to push at his chest to make him pause, having not expected it to hurt like that, the feeling new and unpleasant.

“Ah,” he moans at the feeling of how tight you are around him, unaware of what’s wrong, “just give it a second.”

You shake your head. “No,” you whimper softly, “something’s wrong.” You’re already making another request, “it hurts, get off,” as your door slams open.

Both you and the man above you are shocked by the sudden commotion, but the only thing Matsukawa sees is you, your face scrunched in pain saying ‘get off’ and the man above you, not moving.

“Who the fu-” The man above you is unceremoniously cut off as Matsukawa grabs him by his hair and pulls him off you in a fluid motion.

You gasp, gathering the blanket up quickly to cover yourself as the man was tossed into the hallway. You could barely register the sound of Matsukawa’s fist connecting to skin, probably the other man’s, just out of your sight before hurried footsteps and the slam of the front door.

Matsukawa is back in your doorway in seconds, watching you pull an oversized t-shirt back over your body as you curl in on yourself on your bed, still staring at him wide-eyed. “Are-are you okay?” he asks quietly, uncommon for him.

You’re quiet as you nod at him, silently saying that you’re okay, but he can see the way you track his movements that you’re a little shaken and you won’t tell him. He merely sighs and tells you to give him five minutes before you come out into the living room.

When you make your way out of your room finally, he’s put your favorite movie on the television, a bowl of your ice cream in front of your favorite corner of the couch and your favorite throw blanket already laid out for you. You can’t help but look at him in shock and you even pretend to not see the soft blush that covers the top of his cheekbones as he looks at you.

He’s sure to wrap the blanket around you and give you the bowl of ice cream as he hits play for you. “I’ll leave you to watch, okay?” He doesn’t expect you to protest, and you don’t, not aloud. But your hand fists the fabric of his shirt softly and tugs him just a little so he gets the message that he’s invited to sit next to you.

He doesn’t question it and he doesn’t say anything when you curl into his side when he sits down. Your silent thank you and his silent promise to do something like that any time you needed it. He doesn’t make a sound the entire time, doesn’t protest when you fall asleep halfway through the movie, head still propped against his shoulder. But he hates what he realizes then.

That you’ve wormed your way into his heart. Carved out a nice little soft spot for yourself.

He knew that he found you attractive, that was obvious before. But this was different. This was the feeling that he was eternally screwed. That he’d do anything to keep you safe and comfortable not just because it was his job but because he wanted to.

The realization has him laying you down slowly on the couch, leaving you to be undisturbed in your sleep as he makes his way back to his own room, intent on silently cursing himself for letting it happen. Intent on being alone. Until you’re sleepily walking into his room and crawling into his bed, your quiet, sleepy voice asking if you can stay with him for the night.

And how can he say no? How can he do anything except tuck the one pillow he had under your head and let you bury your face against his chest as you snuggle against him. How can he do anything but pull out his phone while you sleep and order another pillow right then, so if you want to do this again he can have one just for you.

How can he do anything but let you be as close as you want whenever you want?

And how his chest aches to have you there, so close and not his.

TAGLIST - OPEN

@boosyboo9206 @faumpje @miyamizuna @all-in-the-fandoms @pearl-blue-musings

@qichun @kennedy-brooke

[satoruxx]

you fiddle with your nails as you walk home at tooru's side, the sounds of mattsun, makki, and iwa bickering further up ahead cutting through the empty streets. you’re uncharacteristically nervous, because god knows you’ve never done something like this before—but you steel yourself because it’s worth it for him.

your feelings for oikawa tooru are all consuming—strong and deep and intense. they’ve been brewing for well over two years now, nourished by the increased amount of time you’ve spent with him. they overwhelm you, washing over your being with an intensity you’ve never felt before, and they drive you to stick by his side for as long as you can—desperate and aching for the boy who puts the stars in your sky.

you know that timing is important because tooru is nothing if not driven—singularly focused on the sport that gives him the air he needs to breathe. so you wait until well after his match with karasuno, giving your all to support him and the rest of the team because volleyball has become important to you after spending so much time with them. you give it time, wait until after the team has taken the time to lament over their missed chance, and after all the third years are ready to move on to the next phase of their lives, before you finally decide to spill your guts to him.

tooru stares ahead as he’s walking, pensive and unsmiling, and you’re dying to know what’s going on in his head. his eyes are bright, a contrast to his expression, and there’s a resolute glint in his irises that has you feeling oddly shaken. when you reach his house, the rest of the group waves back at him before continuing on, and you realize this is your chance.

so, dangerously, you put your heart on the line.

you tell him everything you've ever thought about him—how you admire his drive and his passion, how you have looked up to him for years and years. how you have never felt so deeply for someone before knowing him. it comes out in a rushed ramble of words, all those nights of practicing in the mirror doing nothing for you in the actual moment. you stumble a few times, your face getting warmer with every word, and yet as each sentence falls forth you feel a weight lift from your shoulders—the flesh of your lungs clatter against your ribs, anxious and eager.

tooru inhales, gaze darting between your eyes and then flitting downwards. even in the dark of the night, you can see the pinkish hue crawling up his neck, can see the way he fidgets with his own fingers. he stares at you, lips parted as a wide array of emotions flit over his handsome features—they finally settle into a strange combination of apologetic and resigned.

and then he tells you no.

he tells you that volleyball will always take precedence, that he has already mapped out his future, which is too far away from you. he tells you about argentina and how his mind is made up. he tells you that he's flattered, that he's glad you're friends but that's all he can do right now.

“i'm sorry,” he says with a grimace. he studiously avoids looking at you, but you can't stop staring at him—your stomach sinks as he turns to head inside.

it takes you months to muster up the courage to tell him. it takes him two minutes to say no to you.

the rejection stings in a way that is unfamiliar, and you take a shaky breath as you walk down the street to catch up with the others.

the humiliation makes itself known in the form of a painful lump in your throat—unmoving and heavy. when you glance up you see that the third years have hung back, waiting for you. makki is wearing a knowing grin, but it falters when he sees your expression. mattsun, ever observant, seems to immediately understand, and he wordlessly slings an arm over your shoulder.

all you can do is awkwardly chuckle, knowing that it sounds weak and throaty as you shake your head. “i feel stupid,” you admit, voice wobbling as heat burns through your skin—unpleasant and unwelcome.

“you're not stupid,” makki mutters, hands shoved deep in his pockets as his lips slant regretfully. you stare at the ground, nodding slowly under the weight of mattsun's arm. your lungs ache, and you know that if you open your mouth, you will lose it entirely. so all you can manage to do is look up at iwa with glassy eyes and trembling lips and a rueful smile that probably makes you look as pathetic as you feel.

you don't notice the way his fists are clenched at his sides, nails digging indents into his palms. he grits his teeth, gaze flitting to oikawa's house in the background, but he doesn't say anything.

none of them speak as they walk you home, and you try your best to keep the sniffles to a minimum, too embarrassed to look at them.

you've never felt pain like this before, and it's hard to get over it because everything reminds you of tooru. it's like someone has taken a knife and carved into your ribcage, grasping your heart before taking it out crushing it between bloodied fingers. but even despite the gaping hole in your chest you know that there are expectations to be met, things to be done.

that's the strange thing about your silly unrequited love—it hurts and hurts and hurts some more until it stops one day before you can realize it. even though your chest is still bleeding you go on with life—you go to university, you get a job, you pay bills. you get up in the morning and brush your hair and drink water and tie your shoes until the wound closes itself up. you start smiling a little wider and laughing a little freer until oikawa tooru is nothing more than an old name.

and of course there are instances where you are reminded of him and what could've been, whether it's seeing milk bread in a supermarket or passing by children hitting a volleyball over a net out in the sun. you know very well that your friends are occasionally still in contact with their old captain, not that this bothers you. after all, mattsun, makki, and iwa were very careful not to bring him up around you, which you're grateful for. so even hearing the name in passing becomes easier.

it is difficult until it isn't anymore.

you've all but forgotten him now, after years and years and years—nothing more than a distant memory.

so imagine the sinking feeling of dread pooling in your stomach when you walk into the restaurant on makki's birthday and see oikawa tooru sitting at the bar, drink in hand. his eyes are alight as he laughs at whatever conversation he's joined, dark hair falling into his eyes messily.

one step forward, ten steps back.

for a second you can't help but stare, breath stolen from your lungs because it feels like the knife is back and twisting itself into your flesh all over again. there is a panic rising in your throat, suffocating and overwhelming and jarring.

tooru lifts his glass to his lips, hiding his grin as his gaze lazily travels over the expanse of the room.

another surge of panic. the familiar sting of humiliation.

he pauses as he's about to take a sip, brown eyes widening when they land on you, and you see the sharp inhale he takes. his stare doesn't waver, too consumed by shock to look away.

and yet that's all you can do—tear your eyes away because you're different now and it's long gone and you know there is no point in going down that rabbit hole again.

it was a lifetime ago—it's done now.

but you will never know how long tooru thought of you after that night back in high school. you will never know that he felt sick to his stomach when he saw the way your face fell at his rejection. you will never know that he bit his tongue so hard it bled as he watched you walk away from him. you will never know that he spent countless nights in argentina wondering what you were up to and how you were. you will never know that sacrificing you for his beloved sport was the hardest thing he's ever done.

so imagine the sinking feeling of dread tooru feels when he sees the way your eyes light up as you find your way over to iwa's side.

@teddybeartoji this is for you mickey ily hehehehehe

[cottonlemonade]

Dating You For A Bet [Part 3]

word count: 2145 || avg. reading time: 9 mins.

pairing: University AU!Matsukawa x chubby!Reader

genre: angst, comfort

warnings: like one time swearing

[part 1] [part 2]

As soon as the dorm room door closed behind you, your shoes were practically flung off your feet. With a deeply satisfied sigh you stretched and wiggled your toes, slowly feeling the numbness subside. You weren’t used to wearing heels but thought that a third date called for the occasion.

“How was it?”

Confused, you turned around as if your roommate could have possibly meant anyone else. She hardly ever spoke with you so this was absolutely a first.

She was sitting cross-legged on her bed, computer on her lap, and brushed her headphones from one ear.

“The… date?”, you asked cautiously, standing frozen in front of the wardrobe like a deer caught in headlights.

The other girl nodded.

“It was… nice?”

“Just nice?”

“He was sweet.”

“That was your second one this week, right? Are you gonna keep seeing him?”

“I’m sorry. I’m still trying to figure out why you’re talking to me.”

She shrugged.

“Because I’m curious.” When you still didn’t say anything, she explained, “I’ve heard all over campus what happened, and… it sucks what your ex did. And I saw how sad you were about it but I’m also really impressed with how you’re handling it now. I guess I just wanna say that at first, I thought it was a really dumb rumor because you were both so obsessed with each other. It didn’t make any sense.”

That brought you out of your stupor. You turned to put your jacket back in the closet and tossed the shoes carelessly into the void somewhere to other disregarded things.

“Yeah.”, you said after a small pause.

“Do you think you’ll get back together?”

Now it was on you to shrug.

“Why d’you ask?”

Your roommate turned the laptop so you could see. It was a live feed of the current varsity volleyball match. Issei was just being switched out and the camera stayed on him as the coach kept talking very fast and gesturing towards the court in an unmistakably urgent manner. Issei simply bowed his head and nodded to his shoes, kneading the pads of his fingers against the water bottle like he always had done when he was anxious. The clip was only about five seconds long but it was obvious that when he turned around to look at the stands behind him he was searching for someone.

Your roommate moved the laptop back so that the screen was facing her again.

“He has been off all game.”

“Well… too bad.”, you said and grabbed your towel and shower caddy.

With three days left until Christmas, the first snow fell. After your tear-filled kiss with Issei at the bench two weeks ago he had left you alone. No more notes, no more loitering around waiting to talk to you and you wondered if this was really how it would be from now on. You figured that finding out you were dating someone else had spooked him into hiding. However, just as you were sure you would never speak another word with him you heard a commotion outside your door. Calls and hollerings were echoing through the hallway from the girls on your floor and you and your roommate both looked up from your essays to then exchange a questioning head tilt with each other. The large pizza carton between you was pushed aside and, brushing your greasy hands off on your washed-out sweats, you got up to see what was going on. When you opened the door you saw four guys hunched over with their heads ducked between their shoulders looking as uncomfortable as can be. Issei, meanwhile, was pushing a fifth down the corridor toward your room. You recognized them now. It had taken a few seconds without their usual sneers.

Your ex had them stand in a row in front of you and then all but one knelt down. Issei gave the last one a tap with his foot on the back of the knee to make him match the others. Heads hung low and hands resting on their thighs, one after the other bowed in deepest apology with their foreheads almost touching the linoleum. The middle one, whom you remembered as the idiot who suggested the bet, began to speak as Issei stood behind them all, arms crossed, a smirk on his lips.

“Y/n-san,”, the middle one said, “we’re very sorry for… for the whole thing.”

Issei cleared his throat. All the girls from the surrounding doors giggled and kept their phones focused on them to film while you were gaping like a fish.

“- for making the bet about you. It was terrible and immature and you didn’t deserve to be treated like that. We ask for your forgiveness.” A general murmur of apologies went through the row of kneeling guys.

“Here.”, the middle one fished a crinkly envelope from his hoodie and held it up to you with both hands, “This is the money from the bet. Please accept it.”

“No, why would I want your money?”, you replied in disbelieving disgust.

“Okay.”, your roommate weighed in quietly and slipped past you, snatching the envelope, “I’ll be taking that.”

You frowned at her.

She raised her hands in defense. “Pride and integrity are great and all but we are still students at the end of the day. This will at least fund next month’s pizza parties. I’m just saying.” And she retreated behind you, adding, “Carry on.”

“Just leave me alone and don’t ever talk to or about me ever again. And the sooner you realize that you are nothing but pathetic worms that peaked in high school the sooner you can go to therapy which you obviously need.”

The boys seemed to wait for something, then Issei said, “You heard her. Fuck off.”

All five scrambled to their feet and pushed through the audience of sniggering girls to get away.

Incredulously, you looked at Issei who was very obviously very satisfied with himself.

“How did you even…?”

He chuckled and shrugged as the surrounding crowd slowly dispersed and went back into their rooms and about their days.

“You didn’t beat them up, did you?”

“Worse.”

He walked over to you and leaned casually against your doorframe.

“I called their moms.”

Your roommate snorted and went back to her essay.

There was a pause in which Issei realized that for the first time since the breakup, you didn’t regard him with the previous hurt or anger. His smirk faded into a small unsure smile and he switched between glancing at you and his hands, “You look pretty.”, he muttered, then pushed himself off the doorframe, “Have a good night.”

The clip of the five guys kneeling in front of your door (from varying angles) was all over the campus forum for days giving you finally a different sort of spotlight and leading your fellow students to turn their attention and energy to hackling the bet-makers rather than you. It was a welcome change of pace.

On Christmas morning then you were bundled up tightly in your coat and scarf and trudged through the freshly fallen snow on your way to the library where you would pretend to study while in all honesty, you would just be scrolling on your phone. All just to escape the omnipresent merriment. You had to walk past Issei’s dorm, something you had avoided doing for weeks and instead had taken the much longer route.

“Y/n!”, you heard a shout from overhead and when you looked up into the soft flurry of snow you spotted Issei waving from his window, “Wait there for a moment!”

Two flights of stairs later, Issei jogged through the lobby towards the glass front door to hold it open. “Could you come up for a second, please? - It’s nothing weird, I promise.”, he added when he saw your skeptically raised brow.

You followed him silently until you reached his door.

With a flourish, he opened his room and was met with a wall of smell from a whole bunch of different essential oils. He coughed and flitted into the room to open the window again, using a notepad to fan the air. The whole room was decorated with candles and garlands and even a small fake Christmas tree that obviously had needed a bit of persuasion to stand up straight on the bedside table.

“Sorry.”, he pressed out in between coughs, “I went around the whole building for candles but they all just had scented ones.” He kept feverishly fanning the icy cold air into the room, ignoring the thick snowflakes landing on and soaking through his pillow. A long dead plant in a pot on the windowsill caught the flame of a candle as he waved around the notepad and began to slowly burn to a crisp. “Oh!” He tossed the notepad onto the bed and grabbed the mostly empty can of an energy drink to pour over it.

“Anyways.”, Issei turned around as if nothing had happened and cleared his throat, “You once told me that you were kinda dreading Christmas because you couldn’t go see your family and I promised that I would spend Christmas with you and make it fun, so!” He jumped to his dresser and retrieved a red tin containing slightly burned, painstakingly decorated sugar cookies and handed them to you. Then he turned around and rummaged under his bed until he pulled out a Santa hat and reindeer antlers that he placed on top of the tin in your hands, “I also have your favorite Christmas movies -”, he waved toward his laptop, “you don’t have to watch them with me, of course, but they’re there if you like - and”, he picked up a note from his desk, “here is the list we made of all the Christmas activities that you wanted to do. We can go through them one by one.” You noticed how the paper shook slightly in his hand and how he swallowed a lump that seemingly had formed in his throat while awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck. “Mistletoe is kinda inappropriate now but I guess you can… slap me instead if we’re both under it. But the snow is good for a snowball fight and to build a snowman and make snow angels and-“

“Issei!”, you said firmly to stop his ramblings, “This is really nice of you but I’m not in the mood to play in the snow right now.”

“Right… uhm.”, his eyes darted back to the paper in his hand for another idea, “We can go to the coffee shop for that holiday drink I told you about.”, he suggested excitedly instead.

“I… already went and tried it last week with my roommate.”

“Oh…”

“Yeah.”

“Did you like it?”

“It was nice, yeah.”

“Good. Good.” After a short pause, he followed up with, “I’m glad.”

He then hesitated, opened his mouth as if to say something, then closed it again and put the list back on his desk.

You looked around the room - the leftover paper shreds next to the trash can from the cutout snowflakes, the wonky bow on top of the cookie tin, the over-laden Christmas tree. All the effort and genuine thought he had put into everything at the very least made you want to accept his peace offering.

“I wouldn’t mind having it again, though.”, you heard yourself mumble.

“Really? You sure?”

You shrugged.

“Alright, lemme grab my jacket.”

“You should put out the candles.”

“Right!”

“Alright, order placed.”, he announced when he sat down across from you, holding up the little buzzer that would let you know about your drinks.

“How have you been?”, he asked.

“Good. Better. I aced that exam I was so worried about.”

“Knew you had it in your pocket.”, Issei nodded and turned the buzzer nervously in his fingers.

“Let me just tell you that I know there is no excuse for what I did. But know that I am not done apologizing for it. You are everything to me and I am kicking myself every day for not realizing it the moment I saw you. You deserve nothing but the best and I’m glad you found someone who can make you happy.”

“Thank you.”, you allowed yourself to smile, “I appreciate that.”

“So… what’s he like?”, he asked, trying very hard to sound casual.

“Who?”

“Your new boyfriend. Do I know him?”

“Well uhm, he isn’t my boyfriend.”

“Oh?” His fingers turning the buzzer slowed ever so slightly.

“Yeah it just…”, you sighed and shrugged, “didn’t work out.”

You would under no circumstances ever tell him that it was because you had called him Issei while he kissed you. You would take that to the grave.

“Aw, that’s too bad.”

“You know this would be a whole lot more convincing if you weren’t grinning like an idiot.”, you smiled.

taglist: @samoankpoper21 @reikashe @jasminelee324

[part 4]

[uracutieraka]

Drama

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

Arguments all day with your ’rents

Just to go out, gotta fight for this shit (Fight for this shit)

Gotta realize you’re a high school girl (High school girl)

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

Older!college freshman! Matsukawa issei x F!reader

Tw! (Slight) age gap, mutual virginity loss, smut, mutual pining (??)

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Synopsis; you and mattsukawa have known eachother since you were babies, when he goes off for college and leaves you behind to finish your third year of high school you begin lashing out. What is he gonna do with you?

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Ever since Issei left for college, he’d received message after message of your mom telling him how you’d been lashing out and sneaking out to parties.

Disappearing into the darkness of the late nights, stumbling in to your window at 4 am, allowing yourself an hour and half of sleep before getting up and getting ready for school.

At first, it was fun and exhilarating. You had never disobeyed your parents, always a goody two shoes.

But now, your grades were slipping and you were breaking farther away from the perfect image everyone had painted you as.

Endless nights of your parents scolding you had passed, always ending with you rolling your eyes and slamming your bedroom door.

Then a few minutes later, without fail, your phone would vibrate, messages filling your inbox

‘Matti susu 💋’ it would read.

Do not disturb.

This continued for 4 months.

You hadn’t talked to the boy who you had taken baths with when you were babies in four whole months.

You were mad at him, for leaving you behind in this shitty place.

You hated everyone and all your friends, the only people you didn’t hate, were his friends so they were long gone.

That’s why you did this.

Getting dressed up in too-tight clothes and crawling out your window almost every night, hopping around party to party until the early morning hours.

It’s a Saturday morning - 4:45 a.m. to be exact - when you crawl back through your window.

Feet landing on the ground, you slowly shut the window, flinching when it squeaks slightly.

After shutting it you turn and sloppily shed your sweaty clothes.

Your room is dark, and your eyes heavy from a mix of tiredness and being under the influence of weed and alcohol.

You pull your tiny dress off and grab the giant t-shirt up off your floor where you had dropped it earlier in the night before you changed.

It was Matsukawa’s. You had stolen it right before he left for school, wanting it for “when you couldn’t sleep without him.” He had chuckled and rolled his eyes when he handed it to you.

“Whatever ya’ little perv.”

You scoffed, feigning disbelief.

“I am not a pervert!”

He raised a brow and put a hand on his hip sassily.

“You so are.”

That was one of the last conversations you had with him before he left.

You now plopped face down into your bed, taking in a deep breath and only turning your head to breath out.

Your eyes have now adjusted somewhat to the darkness.

Enough to make out the dark figure sitting on the chair by your vanity.

Grabbing your phone you fumble to press the flashlight button.

Thinking it was probably a pile of clothes and your eyes playing tricks on you.

It wasn’t.

The lamp next to the chair clicks on.

You turn your flashlight off and now are sitting on your knees on the bed facing the chair and light.

“What the fuck is your problem?” You sneer.

“Is that really how you’re gonna greet me after ignoring me for months?” The boy chuckles, standing up from the seat. With 2 long strides he is now at the side of your bed, hands in his pockets as he looks down at you.

He leans over you and squints his eyes.

“You’re cross faded right now.” He says, like its a gross fact.

You roll your eyes and cross your arms.

“So what?” Your tone is harsh and words are slightly slurred together. You hiccup and look at him, forcing a pouty look on your face.

Makeup smeared everywhere messily. Lips plump from whatever it was you had been getting into earlier that night.

Matsukawa was breathless.

You looked so beautiful with the soft light hitting your face, outlining your features.

The smeared mascara and eyeshadow made your eyes pop, and his t-shirt that fell halfway down your thighs hugged your body.

His eyes trailed over you, down your jaw and neck, to see the shoulder that was showing from the loose material of his old band tee.

“So what?,” he scoffed leaning back up to look down at you. “You’re embarrassing yourself.”

His words strike your heart.

You roll your eyes, throwing your self to lay facing your bedroom wall now, not wanting him to see the tears that are welling in your eyes.

“Whatever.” You say, though he picks up on the way your voice cracks slightly at the end.

He lets out a quick huff, crawling on the bed behind you.

He lays the same way you are but keeps space between you.

Theres a few minutes of complete silence before he speaks.

“Why have you been ignoring me?”

You lay there for a moment before clearing your throat and flipping over to face him.

You study his features, his hair has grown, now he has small curls that now fall over his forehead.

You reach out and twist one on your finger, something that you used to do until he chopped them all of his first year of high school.

He had kept them short until he left for college.

You sigh, letting the curl unravel itself from your grip.

Watching it bounce back into place you finally speak.

“Why’d you leave me here all alone su-su?”

Your voice is a meek whisper, no doubt from the partying.

A soft smile over takes his expression, followed by a slight chuckle.

“Im only 2 hours away.”

“Yeah but you’re not here!”

His face contorts to hold a small frown.

‘Mm’ it’s a disapproving grunt.

You look at him with sad, puppy dog eyes and he can’t help but feel horrible for going off to school.

“I know it’s not fair of me to be upset because I can just come to you whenever,” you blow a strand of hair out of your face and move so you’re now laying facing up and looking at the ceiling. “But It’s just so depressing without you here.”

Your head drops to look at him, awaiting his reaction. You can see him thinking hard about how to respond to your vulnerability. His brows are furrowed slightly as his lips are curled into a quizzical scowl.

A moment passes and he finally speaks up.

“Yeah but I can always come back here too, you just never reach out so I don’t.”

Heat crawls up your face, embarrassed at yourself.

The illicit substances are still flowing in your body, you can tell by the way you’re hot all over and the fact you can hear yourself slurring your own words when you speak.

“Jus’ missed you su-su.” You say wiggling around until you’re positioned in his arms, your face in his chest.

He wraps his arms around you, bending his wrists so his fingers can wrap themselves in your hair.

He moves to adjust to the new position, allowing his head to get comfortable, his chin rests itself on the top of your head.

He breathes in through his nose deeply before he talks again.

“I’ve missed you.”

You and Matsukawa had always been affectionate, to the point his friends would tease him about how normal friends weren’t that close.

He knew that. He didn’t need his annoying ass homeboys telling him too.

It was all innocent though! Holding hands, kisses on the cheek, hugging, or you hugging the large boy’s side as he had an arm draped over your shoulders, and even cuddling to go to sleep.

But, when he went off to school his horizons were… opened… in a sense.

Frat parties and girls throwing ass became a regular occurrence for him, but even with countless girls making advances at him and his friends trying to peer pressure him into joining hookup culture, he held loyal to the younger girl from back home.

Simply shutting them down with a simple “I already got a girl.”

Though you not speaking to him was driving him crazy, so crazy that he was loosing sleep over it. That’s why he decided to take the first train to you on Friday night.

He had arrived at 3 a.m., letting himself in with the spare key your parents gave him years ago.

He of course had told them he was coming into town late, but they didn’t care, just happy he was coming to see you.

The thing about Matsukawa though, was that he was sneaky. Since your parents loved him so much they would never assume he had ill-intent by coming to town on a Friday.

Which, they were right, he was in college so weekends tended to be easier to visit on, but this Friday was different.

This was the 2nd Friday of the month. Which was conveniently the Friday your parents went into the city for the night every month for date nights.

It had been this way for over 10 years.

He had other intentions for this visit though, none that could be considered innocent.

All those girls had him thinking of you, the images of you that had started filling up your private finsta had him nearly banging his head against the wall.

Tiny dresses that had your chest spilling out of them, tiny shorts that were basically just underwear and lowcut shirts all had his mind reeling.

‘Who are you showing off for?’

The question thumped the inside of his skull every night as he viewed your photos and highlights.

Thoughts of the girl he had known as long as he could remember turned from innocent jealousy to something evil.

He knew he was done for when your provocative images were the only thing that could get him off.

He felt dirty every-time he palmed himself to your feed.

He didn’t care though. You were going to be his and he was going to be sure of that.

You pushing your head harder into his chest broke him out of his train of thought.

“Y/n”

“Hmm?” A quiet questioning hum leaves your throat. Eyes closed as you breathe in his scent.

“You know we’re more than just friends right?”

You pull back enough so you can make eye contact with him.

You look over his face once before responding.

“I know.”

“So then what are we doing? Why have you been ignoring me?”

You resettle yourself into his chest, inhaling and mulling over the real reason why you were so upset at him.

“Because,” you close your eyes again and take a deep breath to calm down. “Because what if you found a girl there? In the city? I wouldn’t want to hold you back Issei. And it made me upset because I love you a lot.”

Your mind is still fuzzy so you’re slow to recognize the words tumbling past your lips.

You hear his breath catch in his throat before he begins choking.

He sits up and catches his breath, finally finishing his coughing fit.

You sit up now too, realizing what you just said.

“Im sorry! I- i didn’t- i do love you but I-“ youre cut off by warm lips on yours.

You kiss back, melting into him.

You deepen the kiss and reach up grabbing his shirt collar, guiding him with it.

You gently push against him with your hands and he lays back on your bed.

You simultaneously swing your leg over him, straddling the lanky older boy.

His hands find perch on your hips, circling his thumbs slowly on them.

You break the kiss and look down at him.

He smiles up at you widely and you smile back. Giggles escaping the both of you, it was the type of laughter that you only have when you’re doing something you’re not supposed to be doing with someone you’re close with.

You lean down, smile still on your faces as you kiss his cheek, peppering soft kissed down his jaw and on to his neck.

He tilts his head, allowing more space for the action.

He uses his hands to move your hips against him, a quiet moan leaving the back of his throat at the friction and sensation of kisses on his neck.

You giggled, letting him continue to rock you as he pleased.

You kiss back up his neck and jaw until you land back on his mouth.

You lock lips with him , resting your hands on his shoulders as you start moving at your own pace.

He gasps into your mouth at the unexpected change of pace.

After a moment he flips the two of you over.

Looking down at you, he studies your face.

You feel embarrassed at his lingering stare, what if he looks at you too long and notices all your flaws?

“Y/n,” his voice is raspy and low. You look back up at him and his gaze is intense. “Those pictures you’ve been posting…,” he lets an airy chuckle escape his mouth as he slightly drops his head and shakes it, like he’s trying to shake bad thoughts out of his head. “Who are you posting them for?” His eyes now locked on you.

The heat in your cheeks burns even harder than it had been. You contemplate telling him the truth or saying no one.

“You.” It’s a hushed whisper, you look so cute under him, giving him a bashful look.

You now see his face flush as he looks away from you.

After a few beats of silence he turns his head to face you again.

“Good.”

It’s not bold and he still has a hint of nervousness to his tone.

Leaning down he captures you by the lips yet again.

He’s more fervent than before, grinding into you, kissing sloppily down your neck.

You stop him by grabbing his face and making him look at you.

“Are we really gonna..,” you look away as your voice drops to a whisper. “Have sex?”

You have doe eyes as you look back to him, awaiting the older boys answer.

His face softens at the way you look at him.

“Do you… want to?” He whispers back to you.

He’s always been like this.

So sweet to you that it made his friends throw up at how different he acted when you were around.

Obviously you two would bicker and tease each other but it was never the way he was with literally anyone else.

He’s still looking at you, but now he rolls onto the side of you.

He brings his hands up and uses his index finger to trace your jawline.

You look over at him and finally give your answer.

“Yes,” his eyes light up a bit before you speak again. “But, you have to be 100% honest first.”

An eyebrow shoots up on his face.

“About what?”

“Haveyoubeenwithanyoneelsebehonestrightnow.”

You look away from him, nervous to hear his answer.

“Woah- no! I most definitely have not!”

He’s actually kind of hurt that you would think he would do that to you.

“Promise?” You stick your pinky out at him.

“I promise.” He laces his with yours, signifying he true to his word.

You sigh and flip yourself back on to his lap.

“Good.” You say, a playful grin tugging at your lips.

“Have you.”

“Hell no!”

He chuckles before lacing his hand through the hair on the nape of your neck, pulling you back to him.

Just before he kisses you he whispers, breath on your lips. “Good.”

This time the kissing is different.

Theres a confirmed goal between the two of you and it’s hard to slow down now.

The finish line is so close.

Issei’s hand untangles itself from your hair and makes it’s way down your body.

Finding itself back you your hip for a brief moment, until he slides two of his fingers along the hem of your underwear.

You flinch at the sudden movement, but allow him to continue.

Your stomach is swarming with butterflies and youre body is so hot you might melt.

“Ya’ know y/n….” He says now running his fingers back and forth on the hem slowly. You close your eyes and take a deep breath in a pathetic attempt to calm you nerves. “All those girls at school only made me miss you more than I thought was possible.”

He traces his finger lightly up you naval and over your ribs, splaying his hand out flat against your side, his thumb makes small circular movements on your skin.

You now open your eyes and study his expression.

His eyes are heavy and lidded, no doubt from arousal and the fact it’s now past 5 in the morning.

“Issei.”

He looks away from where his hand connects to your skin, eyeing the cute lace underwear you had on.

“Hm?”

You move his hand and back on his lap.

“Can we please keep going?”

He was so caught up in enjoying your presence he had almost briefly forgotten what you two were doing.

He flips back over you with a small smile.

He looks nervous. You had only seen him like this a few times in all the years you had known him. So it was unexpected from the usually confident man.

You reach up and cup his face, rubbing your thumb faintly over his bottom lip.

You pull him down towards you, restarting what had abruptly ended a few minutes ago.

Kissing back you and him fall back into the same pattern you had been in prior.

This time it’s for real. There’s nothing stopping the two of you.

He pushes the bottom of your shirt up, and you break away only to sit up and throw it off of you.

His eyes fall down to your chest. He had never seen real boobs in person before. At least not like this.

“Su-su?,” his gaze comes back to your face. You point to his shirt. “Your turn.” It’s meek, as if you were embarrassed to even hint you wanted him to discard his clothes too.

“Oh! Sorry!” He quickly takes his shirt off, then stands to drop his pants to the floor.

He quickly kicks them off his ankles and gets back on your bed.

Youre both sitting facing each other, both on your knees.

“Now what?” He throws a hand to rub the back of his neck, unsure what to do, or more what you wanted him to do.

“Now, you kiss me again and uhm,” your face grows a deep shade of red. You look down at his hands, resting on his knees. “You touch me.”

“Okay.” He says, letting a breath of air escape his mouth.

Leaning over you two reconnect. Lips matching eachothers paces.

At first hes slow and gentle but then he deepens the kiss, speeding up his movements.

Hes now over you (again, damn you guys really need to stop stopping.) hand running up and down the sode of your thigh gently.

You weren't unaware of just how large Matsukawa was.

You were in fact the opposite. His large size never failed to amaze you.

When you were younger, it was cool. He was so much taller than everyone!

You never thought anything weird of it until last year year.

You were with him, and a few of his volleyball teammates at his house.

They were 17 and had gotten the opportunity to have a house to themselves.

It took Matsukawa weeks of begging his parents to let him have his friends over.

It took you one minute and a promise of no funny business under your watch.

They agreed, trusting you more than him.

Though, promising a whole house for a weekend to multiple teenage boys is basically asking for something bad to go down.

Long story short, the other 3 boys had scrounged around their parents cabinets for any alcohol they could.

“9 beers, half a bottle of sake, and 2 whole bottles of wine, curtsey of Tooru.” Hiro speaks out to the small group.

‘Not bad’s followed the statement.

An hour later, you guys were all giggly and drunk, never having drank this much before.

“Ok, ok so youre telling me you two have neverrrrr,” Oikawa points a finger back and forth between you and Issei. You’re lazily leaned up against his side, as his arm rests around your shoulder. “Ya’know…did it?” A shit eating grin is plastered on his face.

Your face is burning hot from the topic of conversation.

Issei is looking away from you, but you can tell he’s also feeling the same way you are.

You nod ‘no’ to Oikawa’s question. Ignorantly hoping that would be the end of it.

“I mean think about it from y/n’s perspective.,” now Iwaizumi joins in. You turn towards him, thinking maybe he would be your savior. You were wrong. “Mattsun is like, ginormous compared to her, and i mean, not to be like gay, but he’s probably… well endowed.”

Your face is now sheet white from the statement. Grabbing your can you chug the last of your beer.

“Dude!” Issei now shouts out at his friend. Throwing the nearest pillow at the other boy.

“Sorry! It’s just a thought bro!”

“You’re so gay!”

“Am not!”

The two boys keep bickering as you now look back over at Issei.

It’s like a switch flips in your head. A sudden shift in your guys relationship was felt by both of you.

From that point forward you two could barely touch each other without shying your faces away from one another.

After a few months though it slowly became normal for you two again. This time though-when he would pull you close into him while walking home, or scoot closer to you on the bench at lunch, just so he could be near you- a new feeling settled in your stomach.

Something sweet but hungry.

That’s how you felt now.

There was something in the deepest, darkest parts of you that was starving. Something animalistic.

A hand sliding over the material of your underwear grounds you.

Your breath hitches in anticipation.

He looks at you, a glint of mischief and curiosity is in his eyes. You know this look. It’s the look he gets when he’s testing the waters with how long he can get away with do something before pissing you off.

This time though, its for a different reason.

How far can he go until you’re begging for him?

He had now come to realize he could go pretty far.

Your underwear are long gone, hands entangled in the boys curls.

He’s 2 fingers deep into you, mouth working the rest of you.

For a virgin he was surprisingly good at this.

You wondered for brief second if he had lied to you but that train of thought was quickly lost when he pulled back from you.

“Am I… doing it right? I’m not really sure what i’m doing.” His fingers are still moving in and out of you, his eyes are locked on your face, trying to read your expressions.

You grab his wrist hinting for him to stop, so you can properly answer him.

You pant for a few seconds before propping yourself up to look at him.

“Yes. Really good. More than good Issei.”

You get a good look at his face, his pupils are dilated, hair messy from your fingers, and the bottom half of his face is glistening from a mixture of his saliva and your arousal.

“Okay, good.” He says, a smile yet again takes over his face.

He goes to move his fingers again but you grip on his wrist again.

Biting your lip, your eyes now avoid his.

“Can we, uhm, y’know..”

His eyes widen. Anxiety now wracking through him again, but also a sort of excitement at the prospect offered to him.

“Yes!” It was more desperate than he had hoped, internally he cringed at it.

He repositioned over you. Pushing his underwear down and kicking them off.

You look down.

“Woah.” Your eyes are opened wide, mouth slightly agape.

He studies your face, now growing nervous at your staring.

“Is something wrong?” He asks.

You look back at him. “No! It’s just, like, really big…”

Issei swears he could’ve finished in that moment, but he didn’t. He was proud of himself.

“We don’t have to do anything.”

“Issei,” You have a pitiful look on your face. “Please?”

He doesn’t know what happened.

One second he’s reassuring you, the next he’s pushed all the way inside you.

Your whimpers and clawing at his back makes him damn near primal.

“Are you okay?”

“Y-yes! Please, do something Issei!” You whine out to him.

You feel full. Unable to do anything but think about Issei.

A guttural moan leaves his throat.

He slowly pulls back and you hiss at the burning.

“A-are you sure you want me to-,”

“Issei. Do it.” It’s stern but reassuring for him in a way.

He keeps going, eyes trained on where you two connect.

He quickly slams his hips back into yours.

A loud moan leaves you.

Its the best thing he’s ever heard, and now he’s determined to hear it more.

He quickly sets a pace, slow and steady.

Your hands are entangled in his hair again, slightly pulling whenever he thrusts back into you.

“Fuck! It’s so big!”

“D-dont, fuck, don’t stop!”

Your words thumped in his head. The encouragement only made him go faster and harder.

He cant stop staring at your face, watching how every movement has your eyes rimming up with tears.

You had been entranced, staring at where he filled you up. Now you look back up at him.

“You’re s-so pretty -aha- Issei!”

The once determined drive to fuck you was suddenly turned into something else.

Now he was determined to make love to you. Suddenly realizing how intimate this moment was.

Having you here like this for him, so pretty and vulnerable.

He’s filled with so much love for you it hurts.

“Fuck, i fucking love you.” He states, it’s broken up between thrusts and soft moans leaving the both of you.

“Love you too issei.” You pull him in for a sloppy kiss.

His movements are slow and languid.

He’s focused on making you feel good.

His thumb is stroking your cheek as he peppers small kisses and sweet nothings to you.

It’s not much longer until you feel a knot forming in your abdomen.

“I-i think m’gonna cum.” You say.

“Wha- okay, yeah, me too.” He’s breathing hard.

You can see the sweat beads on his face, resting where his brows are furrowed together in concentration.

He continues the pace, hoping to bring you both to your releases at the same time.

And he does.

“M’cumming su-su!”

“Shit- me too baby!”

He thrusts into you a few more times before letting out a loud groan.

You had cum slightly before, it tumbled into him doing so as well.

Collapsing on top of you, he turns and kisses all ovver the side of your face quicky.

“Mwah!mwah!mwah!” He says as he does so.

You laugh and ghost your fingernails over his shoulder blades.

“You’re so stupid issei.” It’s a followed by a soft giggle.

“Whatever. You’re the stupid one.”

“What?! How?!”

He looks at you raising a brow.

“Sneaking out? Partying? Failing your classes? All because I went off to school and you thought i’d meet another girl? That’s stupid.”

“Whatever…”

“You know I’m right.”

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8 months later

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“Are you excited to start university?” Hiro’s voice chirps at you from across the room.

“Yes! I’m happy i got into the same one as you and Su-su.” You beam at him.

“Yeah. Matsukawa won’t shut the hell up about it,” his eyes roll. “And just so you know. You will not be taking over our dorm.”

“Whatever Hiro.” Your eyes roll and your smile is now replaced with a scowl.

“Hey, hey, you two! Calm down. Y/n’s parents actually love her and so she has her own dorm like a damn brat.” Oikawa’s voice now interrupts you and Hiro making faces and flipping each other off.

“I am not a brat!” Your tone is whiney, like a toddler throwing a fit.

“Loud and wrong.” Iwa’s voice is harsh and cold, but you know he’s just poking some fun at you.

“Leave her alone! Just because our parents didn’t want to pay thousands extra for us to have our own rooms doesn’t make her a brat!” Your, now, boyfriend Mattsun says, approaching behind you.

“Issei don’t be sarcastic! I’ll have you guys know my parents only did it because i finished with perfect marks in school. So it’s my reward.” You cross your arms, huffing and looking away from the four boys who are all gathered in your room, helping you pack for college.

Hiro puts on a fake frilly posh accent, “my daddy says because i did a good job he’s going to buy me a Mercedes!”

“Shut up Hiro!” You holler.

The boys are all snickering at your annoyance.

“All right, all right, our bad.” Iwaizumi huffs out and uses his hands to motion for everyone to calm down.

“Now on to more pressing matters,” Oikawa speaks. “Care to explain why these are in your dresser drawer y/n?” He now reveals a box of condoms.

You feel your heart drop to your feet, then a sudden need to defend yourself comes over you.

“Why are you opening my underwear drawer?” You point at him.

His face drops.

All the boys are now giving him blank stares, waiting to see what he says.

“You told me to empty them out! I didnt know it was your underwear drawer. But when i opened it these were on top!”

You roll your eyes.

“Perv.” You scoff turning away to resume filling the box you had with your belongings.

“Whatever. Answer the question.” Oikawa says.

“It’s pretty self explanatory.”

“Yeah but these are magnums.”

“Ok? We already had this conversation last year at Issei’s.”

“Uhhh, nuh uh!,” oikawa wags his finger back and forth. “We had they hypothesis it wouldn’t work. Thats what we talked about.”

“Tooru..” Issei now interjects. It’s a warning to him to stop having this conversation.

Oikawa doesn’t listen.

“So?”

“So what?” You sneer.

“Does it?”

“Barely! There! Are you happy?” You are obviously exasperated at the fact you had to answer or deal with Oikawa never leaving you alone about it.

‘Ayeeee’s and a ‘my boy!’ Fill your room for a moment.

You walk over and snatch the box from Oikawas hands.

“Asshole.”

He sticks his tongue out at your reply.

Issei moves forwards and wraps his arm around your waist, his other reaching around to grab the box out of your hands.

“I’ll take that!” He says with a smile and kiss to your cheek.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” A faint blush dusts your face, and a small smile, despite your annoyed tone.

Issei can tell you’re not mad.

“You know you love me.” He says, a smirk on his face.

“Unfortunately.” You now deadpan out to him.

Masterlist

[rineros]

SHE WAS TOO GOOD TO ME

summary: he wants to heal

characters: miya atsumu, ex!reader

contains: 1.6k, self reflection post breakup

note: don’t judge ooc atsuwu i haven’t written hq fics in four years and he was the closest person to my ex bestie #fuckthatguy

sometimes, miya atsumu allows himself to wonder what could have happened if he wasn’t such an asshole.

he glances to his right. across the empty side of the bed where the scent of your shampoo was fading, his alarm clock reads 2:56 am. he groans loudly in frustration and drags his hands down his face, stretching out his tired features.

he stares at his ceiling that is illuminated by the glow in the dark stars you and he stuck up there once upon a time. a small smile strikes him when he remembers walking in on you hopping on the bed to get them up there.

he had watched you for a minute before you saw him. he’ll never forget that warm, fuzzy feeling in his chest when you laughed joyously the moment you saw him and jumped from the bed to his arms. he held on to you tightly as he spun you around, relishing in the feeling of being truly loved.

you had kissed him so gently as you smiled when he set you down that he thought of himself as an adorable little puppy.

you excitedly showed him the progress you had made over the past hour, which honestly wasn’t much, but he knew you had probably gotten distracted by your phone.

“i got an idea,” he said, putting his hands on your shoulders. “turn around.”

“you’re one dirty dog, you know that?” you giggled as you followed his movements.

you had yelped as you felt yourself being hoisted up into the air, but he gripped your waist as you held on to his hair for dear life. you steadied yourself and praised him for being such an innovative and creative problem-solver, making his cheeks flush.

from there, he walked to wherever in the room you wanted to place the stars, bed be damned, and by the time you two had finished, the sun had set. he set you down as he had done earlier and the two of you had lain patiently in bed, talking to pass the time as you waited for the darkness to settle.

when the stars started glowing, both of you had squealed childishly, but he thought that all those rare, once-in-a-lifetime comets could never compare to the sparkle in your eyes. cheesy, he knows.

he checks his clock again. it’s a quarter past three.

osamu’s going to be pissed if he calls him.

fuck it.

atsumu grabs his phone from the nightstand and dials the person who will always listen to him. he cringes when he hears osamu’s ringtone across the hallway.

it rings… and rings… and rings. voicemail.

an eerie silence settles in the apartment. you always hated that. the air is still, his pillow is much too flat, and there’s a disturbing feeling bubbling in his throat.

atsumu jumps and drops his phone on his face as his ringtone blares in his ears. he pinches the bridge of his nose, rubbing it to soothe the sharp pain as he accepts the call.

“the hell you want?” the raspy voice of his brother mutters. atsumu feels bad because he knows that osamu’s first class starts at 8:00, but he can’t deal with this anymore tonight.

“i just… i wanted to talk.” his foot starts to shake and bounce as the silence returns.

a second passes, then another.

“come over.”

with that, his restless body rises from bed and walks quickly and nimbly across the hall to osamu’s room with his blanket wrapped around him. he opens the door to a half-asleep osamu and climbs into his queen-sized bed, the perk he received since atsumu got the bigger room. he makes himself comfortable as he lays on his side to face osamu, bringing the blanket up to his chin, basking in the warmth that could never match your own.

“gimme a sec,” osamu says gruffly. his eyes are still closed as he lays on his back. atsumu watches as he takes a few more deep breaths, then slowly cracks his neck to wake himself up. “talk.”

atsumu moves to lay himself on his back after he sees his eyes open slightly. they both stare at osamu’s bare ceiling.

“i never told you this, but when she broke up with me,” he pauses. “she didn’t cry. she looked too exhausted.

“she told me even before we broke up that i stopped putting in as much effort and that she felt like she wasn’t even in a relationship anymore, just the ghost of it.

“she completely tore me to shreds without even raising her voice because that’s who she is. no matter how much you hurt her, she’ll never hurt you. she cares too much. she wasn’t even trying to rip into me, like, she was just explaining the type of person i am and how my actions affected her and everyone’s perception of me.

“she told me that every time i hurt her, it seemed like i didn’t take her seriously and i never took accountability for my actions; i was always trying to weasel my way out of trouble.

���but i just wanted to preserve everyone’s feelings, y’know? i wanted to keep the peace. i never meant to make her feel like that.”

atsumu stops talking for a second as he waits for osamu to say something. it’s all a blur, with bits and pieces flashing in his head, but he could never forget the blank look in your eyes as you pointed out his shortcomings as a person, not just as a boyfriend.

“we judge others based on their actions, but we judge ourselves by our intentions,” osamu says. his voice is still ragged with exhaustion and his eyes have closed yet again. “i heard mom say somethin’ like that to her friend once.

“i believe you when you say you think you didn’t do anything wrong, but that’s only from your perspective. you’re busy; i get that and so does she. there’s volleyball, classes, homework, clubs, work, your friends, and then you added her, but it seems like you had spread yourself too thin already—“

“and that’s exactly one of the points i told her,” atsumu interrupts. “i’m not gonna be able to give her 100% all the time because i already do so much.”

osamu side-eyes him. “will you shut up and let me finish?”

atsumu huffs but lets him continue anyway.

“what i’m trying to get at is that, yeah, you’re busy, but you’re not the only person that’s busy. this isn’t just your world that we’re living in, it’s everyone’s. to her, it must have seemed like all of the effort, time, and love she invested in you was losing its value every time you ignored her or prioritized something stupid when she needed you. it’s not difficult to detach yourself from something that treats you like you don’t matter if you know your worth.

“you also lie. a lot. and i know you think they’re harmless little white lies, but they’ve gotten too out of hand lately that you’ve probably become desensitized to them.

“she’s smart and she knows you. she knew whenever you lied and it destroyed any kind of trust or credibility that you had.

“and that bullshit about wanting to spare everyone’s feelings? you know you don’t care about all that. also, who cares? nobody made you play mediator besides yourself and it’s impossible to not hurt anyone. you’re already hurting people; you’ve done it before and you’re going to keep doing it because that’s what learning is about. making mistakes. and if you haven’t already realized that you’re hurting people more than you would if you’d just tell the damn truth, you’re screwed,” osamu finishes his monologue, leaving atsumu in his thoughts.

was it really that bad for you? was he?

when he was younger, his tongue was as sharp as a shard of glass and he was much more careless with his words. it didn’t matter to him if the true words, in his opinion, hurt those around him. his belief was that there was no improvement without criticism. as he grew up, however, he had to learn to filter himself because nobody would willingly choose to be around someone who solely focused on their flaws.

and somewhere between then and now, he had forgotten the importance of honesty, usually opting to twist and bend the truth to preserve his reputation. it started off with a fib of “too much hw, can’t hang tn :(“ to multiple complicated lies spanning months, in which he would tell others things to make himself seem better. the kinder person, the most reliable, the smartest. just better.

eventually, it became too difficult to manage all of these lies and his stories became mixed up. when he was questioned about it, he would lie even more and even harder.

even now, as osamu told atsumu what he thought of him and his situation with you, there wasn’t much good. though atsumu came to osamu for comfort tonight, he, like you, wasn’t trying to make him feel bad, but it seems that’s the way he is destined to feel about himself when his personality is brought into conversation.

osamu snores next to him and as atsumu snuggles up to his blanket further, he realizes that this is a path he no longer wants to walk down.

he’s going to be better.

[vilintciay]

“Baby, you have no idea what I want, no idea what I need. I don't want to be your friend, I don't want to start over again. I want to fuck you until you can't walk straight, until the only thing you can think about is my cock buried deep inside this tight little cunt.

I want to be the man who fucks you so hard and so good that you'll never even think about being friends with me again. I want to ruin you for all other men, want to make it so that the only thing you can think about is being my personal fuck toy. So shut the fuck up and take it.”

!TOXIC EX BF!; OIKAWA, KYOUTANI, ATSUMU, Futakuchi, Semi, TENDOU, Suna, Matsukawa, IWAIZUMI, TERUSHIMA, Daishou, Osamu.

[noorpersona]

Unrequited Love: Oikawa (Bonus)

The team was loud, as always.

Oikawa, now freshly showered and looking somewhat like himself again, was in the middle of being teased by Hanamaki and Matsukawa.

“So, Captain, let’s talk about your tragic love life,” Matsukawa said, slinging an arm around Oikawa’s shoulders.

Hanamaki took a dramatic sip of his drink. “Yeah, we all knew she was gonna break up with you before you did. What does that say about you, huh?”

“Shut up,” Oikawa groaned, smacking Matsukawa’s arm off him, though there was no real heat behind it. You could see his mood rising with every passing moment.

“Hey, at least you still have volleyball,” Matsukawa said, raising his glass like he was making a toast.

“Right, the one true love of your life,” Hanamaki added with a smirk.

Oikawa sighed dramatically. “You guys are the worst.”

You watched from the side, letting their banter wash over you. The ache from earlier was still there, a dull weight in your chest, but at least Oikawa wasn’t sulking anymore. That was the important thing.

A presence appeared beside you, and you didn’t even have to look to know it was Hajime.

“I’m impressed,” he admitted, crossing his arms as he watched Oikawa shove Hanamaki. “I tried to get him out of bed earlier, but he wouldn’t budge.”

You smirked, nudging him lightly with your elbow. “That’s because you don’t know how to sweet-talk him, Hajime.”

He rolled his eyes. “Oh, please. If I tried sweet-talking Oikawa, I’d never hear the end of it.”

You snickered. “Yeah, he’d probably take that as an invitation to propose.”

Hajime shook his head, amused, before glancing at you, his expression shifting into something more knowing. “So,” he said casually, “are you going to make a move, or are we just going to keep going in circles?”

You exhaled sharply, running a hand through your hair. “Please, you should’ve seen what he told me earlier.”

Hajime raised an eyebrow.

You turned to him, pressing a hand to your chest mockingly, and sighed dramatically. “He looked me in the eye, Hajime. And do you know what he said?”

Hajime waited.

“You’re a good friend,” you deadpanned, voice dripping with bitterness.

Hajime winced. “Ouch.”

“Yeah.” You let out a short laugh, shaking your head. “So, no, I’m not making a move. Not when he clearly doesn’t see me that way.”

Hajime was quiet for a moment before shrugging. “You never know. He’s an idiot. You might have to spell it out for him.”

You huffed, watching as Oikawa dramatically whined about something to the others. “Yeah, well… I think I’ve done enough for one night.” Then you hear a whine of your name. You look over to Oikawa's pleading face along with Matsun's and Makki's devious ones.

“You promised me they would give me a break!” Oikawa suddenly called out, his voice carrying over the chatter of the team. His eyes locked onto yours, pleading dramatically, though the glint of betrayal was exaggerated.

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t suppress a smirk. “C’mon, guys, give him some slack,” you called, raising your hands in surrender.

Hanamaki gasped in mock offense. “Oh, so now you’re defending him?”

“She’s going soft,” Matsukawa said, shaking his head.

“I am not going soft,” you shot back, narrowing your eyes.

Hajime, beside you, smirked before stepping forward. “Actually, now that I think about it… didn’t Oikawa almost cry in first-year when he lost his favorite knee pads?”

Oikawa whipped around. “Iwa-chan.”

“Oh, right!” Hanamaki’s eyes lit up. “The ones with the little stars on them?”

“You guys swore to take that to the grave!” Oikawa cried, scandalized.

“I don’t know, man,” Matsukawa said, leaning back with a grin. “Kind of sounds like a moment that deserves to be remembered.”

As the teasing escalated, Oikawa slumped in his seat, arms crossed, pouting like a child. “I hate all of you.”

You laughed at the whole exchange, and when you glanced back at Oikawa, expecting him to still be sulking, you caught something different—something small, almost imperceptible.

He was smiling.

It was barely there, just a slight tug at the corners of his lips, but it was real. And for a brief moment, as his gaze lifted, he met your eyes.

The world around you blurred, and warmth spread through your chest. You swore you felt your heart stutter, just for a second.

And then, as quickly as the moment had happened, you cursed yourself for it.

Get a grip, you scolded yourself, tearing your gaze away.

Oikawa was still laughing with the others, completely unaware of the effect he had on you.

You exhaled, shaking your head, willing the butterflies away.

Hajime, still standing beside you, didn’t say anything, but when you glanced at him, he was looking at you with a knowing expression.

“Not a word,” you muttered.

He smirked. “Didn’t say anything.”

You groaned, shoving his shoulder, but he only chuckled in response.

[mollyrolls]

stop the clock 𖦹 matsukawa i. x reader

day 8: the name drop

in collaboration with get ugly by @eggyrocks @warlocksoup

an: if you guys haven't seen my rampant screaming, eggy's new phenomenal fic get ugly is in the stc universe!!! you must go read it and give eggy love otherwise ill eat you

uquiz 𖦹 pinterest

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“You broke my heart, you know that?”

Issei calls out to the expanse of the store as he enters, foot barely past the threshold before he speaks.

“Uh, sorry?”

Suddenly, his blood runs cold. The voice coming from the desk is not the one he’s come to love, but a completely new one. He turns slowly, preparing himself for the embarrassment he will have to endure.

Sitting in her perch was a shorter guy, with a streak of blonde cutting right through his hair. He’s looking at Issei like he knows him, which is confusing because Issei’s sure this is the first time he’s seen him.

Upon seeing his face, the guy from the counter breaks into a huge grin.

“Oh my god, you must be Mattsun.”

Adjusting slightly to appear more relaxed, he gives a tentative smile.

“Uh, yeah. I am.”

The guy leans forward on his elbows, watching him like a TV show.

“How much money have you actually spent on cherries? It’s got to be like ¥4000 at this point.”

This peaks his interest significantly. He hasn’t told anyone but Makki and Suna about the cherries, because he had to explain the new business expense he’d been logging, so it must have been her.

This of course means-

“She talks about me?” He can hardly contain his glee at this news.

“Yeah. It’s not-”

Issei puts a hand up to stop the guy. He doesn’t care to hear what she’s been saying, for better or for worse. Since it’s likely worse, the knowledge that he consumes the tiniest bit of space in her brain is enough for him.

As he does so, the guy splits into a huge grin.

“You’re just like I imagined. Can I please watch you flirt? I need this for science.”

Before he can do anything, the guy behind the counter yells out to the store. 

Yells her name. Something in Issei’s head starts to spin. 

He wanted to know her name. So badly that he was chastised relentlessly by Makki for spending his whole shift on his phone with Suna. They had scoured every corner of her spotify account, looking for anything to identify her.

Tragically, she’d prepared for him. Her username was just a bunch of numbers, she had no profile name or picture, and all the playlists were simply numbered 1-16. 

So yes, knowing her name was like fireworks sparking in his head. But this was not how he wanted to learn it. He likes that she makes him work; he wanted it to be a prize that he’d earned.

At the sound of her name, she appears behind the little isles and looks over at where they are. Issei can’t help but notice she’s in his corner. Where the cherries are. 

As she makes eye contact with Issei, her facade cracks. Surprise, embarrassment, realization, embarrassment, collected, all in the span of a few seconds. She comes around to round out their circle, not really looking at Issei. 

He thinks it’s weird seeing her from this angle. She’s not different, maybe a little nervous, but not enough to really change her demeanor. Yet, without the safety of her counter she looks more vulnerable. 

“Is something wrong, Noya?” She asks the guy behind the counter, seemingly unprepared to handle Issei. 

Noya grins cheekily, and gestures to the space between them as if inviting the show to begin. She glowers at him but he seems unaffected. Issei’s impressed; if he was on the receiving end of that glare he’d need some new pants.

Noya beams wider before turning to him again. “Cmon, let’s see it! Lay on the charm man.” 

“You’re gross. And stealing from me by still being clocked in,” She bites back before Issei can even start. He just stands back and watches their exchange, like a spectator at the zoo. 

Something in him is jealous of Noya and the way he can get her to shed her skin. Regardless, he takes what he can get. Despite his nasty gut feeling, he’s seeing a side of her he’s never gotten access to. What she’s like with her friends, when she’s not putting on her facade. Who his mystery girl really is.

Noya eventually concedes after being threatened short of death and is pushed out of the store. Before he disappears into the dusk, he whispers something to her that makes her eyes roll all the way to the back of her head. 

She watches him turn the corner and disappear into the night, and Issei notices the steadying breaths she has to take.

Upon re-entering the store, she looks more collected. As she tucks her hands in her back pockets, she rocks a little on her feet. He looks down and notices the boots she’s sporting, and the tiniest little streak on the toe.

“So.”

His attention is brought back up when she addresses him, still swaying slightly.

“So?”

She shifts her shoulders back reflexively, like she’s ready for a fight. “You know my name now.”

He looks back at her, saying nothing. She doesn’t take the bait.

“What, you aren’t gonna berate me to death? Wax poetic about how beautiful it is and how it suits me and how when you heard it, angels sang?”

He tries to hide a smile. “Do you want me to?”

“No.”

“Then I won’t.”

She narrows her eyes at him. “What happened to you?”

He gives a tiny shrug.

“I don’t know what you mean. I’m still the same old Issei.”

Unconvinced, she glares at him a little longer. He takes it on the chin. When she presses, he stands firm.

Issei thinks she’s sorting things out in her head. He’d give her whatever she needs, even if it makes his knees a little weak, and right now that means a silent dressing down. His hands are sweaty.

“This is unnerving.” She admits after a few moments, then turns on her heel to walk back deeper into the store.

Issei waits a couple moments then follows.

“What is?”

“You.” She reaches her destination, and starts to restock his cherries.

“Haven’t I always annoyed you though?”

“Yeah. But this is different.”

She continues picking up the pots from the box, rotating them around and sliding them into their place. There’s about 20 little jars, only taking up a single shelf.

Issei lingers nearby, leaning on the doors of a fridge. His back radiates enough heat to make some condensation. “How do you mean?”

She stops for a second in contemplation; looking over her shoulder to peer at him again, turning thoughts over in her mind. She opens her mouth to say something, but closes it just as fast. 

In her hesitancy, Issei notices a touch of vulnerability in her eyes. It’s hidden deep behind her irises, but he knows her now. With a blink, it’s gone.

 Instead, she lets out a deep sigh, a bit of frustration and a drop of disappointment.

“I dunno. Never mind.”

“Hey, cmon.” Issei tries to probe her again, keep her talking, but she grows resolute in her decision. She quickly emits an energy that is impenetrable. He doesn’t have the tools yet to identify a crack.

He stands and waits for an opening, one that she doesn’t give. The condensation from the fridge starts to drip down his neck. 

He feels a buzz in his pocket, and sees a text. 

suna [9:57 pm]: ur gonna b late. get some salt while ur there, quit harassing women, and hurry up

He can’t help the small grunt of annoyance he lets out, resentment growing at everything around him. 

When he looks back up, she’s staring at him in a way he’s never seen. There’s not a lack of emotion, there’s too many to sort. He expects her to glance away, and she does.

The whirr of the fridges is louder than normal.

“I’ll uh… I’ll see you around,” Issei starts, feeling oddly small. He scuffs his shoe, hoping she’ll ask him to stay, or ask him a clarifying question, or anything other than this suffocating silence. When nothing comes, he pushes off the wall and starts down the aisle.

He really does try to leave, but sometimes he can’t help himself. He pauses, and she watches.

“For what it’s worth, I think it’s lame your friend ruined that bit. It was kinda fun having the mystery.”

She takes the peace treaty gratefully, but still doesn’t speak.

“If you want, we can agree to forget it? I’ll earn it fair and square?”

There’s a little chuckle, mostly to herself, before she replies.

“Are you even capable of forgetting that?”

He laughs, somewhat from relief that he had managed to salvage whatever he’d fucked up.

“Nah, probably not. I can try though.”

She dismisses that with a wave of her hand.

“Why bother. I’ll just… put bleach in Noya’s shampoo or something.”

He grins at her, easy and open. She doesn’t return it, but stands up a bit more casually. 

The unspoken words between them weigh heavy in the air, but it’s returned to a level that Issei can manage. They’re closer than he’d thought.

He realizes he’s been staring, trying and failing to place her perfume. Issei ducks his head quickly, before turning and walking out more intentionally.

Right before he reaches the door, he turns around one last time. To his surprise, he meets her eyes. 

“I- I hope the concert was good. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He can’t hear her from across the store, but sees her mouth ‘bye.’

By the time he gets to work, he’s distracted. Anytime a woman tries to flirt with him, all he can think of is the melody behind her eyes, and what was going through her head. 

Issei doesn’t make that many tips that night.

She’s hunched over her drawing table, various trashed doodles surrounding her. Her phone is plugged into the wall, just above 14%. It always dies faster when she’s on the phone.

“I don’t see what the big deal is?”

Seven’s voice is breathy over the speaker, she’s out in the cold. She fills in the background of her strip with haphazard crosses.

“So he’s a little dorky guy with a crush. Is he threatening?”

She lets out a half-there chuckle. “No. He likes batman band-aids.”

“So what’s the problem?”

Her pencil tip breaks from the pressure. 

“I-”

Instead of sharpening it, she fishes for another.

“I think he actually likes me. Like, not as a bit.”

Over the speaker, some rock radio comes over from Seven’s side. It’s loud enough that she can hear it. It makes her cringe.

“Is that so bad?”

The response takes so long that Seven has to ask if she’s there.

“Yeah. It is.”

She hangs up before she’s faced with the next probing question.

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taglist: closed.

@bakingcuriosity, @nobodybutnnoorr, @ciderscape, @lilchubbyyy, @soulfullystarry,

@interstellarz, @wakashudou , @myromanempiree, @notverymarley, @aozui,

@lllaw,, @cnnmairoll, @cosmiicdust, @reignsaway,

@wyrcan, @garfieldissocool, @soobin1437, @guitarstringed-scars, @adorerinn,

@thiisisntlovely, @miliondollagirl, @snail-squasher, @pocketful-ofdaisies, @cherrypieyourface,

@honeekyuu, @rivaiken,

@ineednanami, @akaashislovee, @kodzu-ken

@yoshit-he-dinosaur, @thyproblem, @cupidsblonde, @little-flower30, @asthmaticcchoeee

@lunasfics, @bakery-anon, @haikyuuluverrr, @chososcamgirl, @seroh

@introvertsince2003, @thechaosoflonging, @kameyyy, @riousluvs, @totallytatum

@animenaces-world, @layskettlecookedchips, @chaotic-neutral-ig, @jadeoru, @anniewings

[rintarousgirl]

dating matsukawa issei is like...

a/n: please enjoy the headcanons! off topic but i have like 60 followers rn and i just want to say thank you very much and please send in requests!! beware of the smut below the cut (all smut is post timeskip)

★ - before dating matsukawa, you'd been crushing on him. and you'd been crushing on him for a while. ever since your first year of high school you'd found yourself growing incredibly fond of the heavy-lidded boy in your mathematics class.

★ - three years later, halfway through your third year, you confess to him on Valentine's Day. he's amused by your confession, watching you stare at your feet as you hold out a small box of chocolates and pink letter with neat handwriting out to him.

★ - it's more surprising to you when he accepts, curious and teasing the shy girl who'd confessed to the closed off matsukawa issei.

★ - he's very comfortable with you right off the bat, and there's no special milestones for things. he sits with you at lunch, or well, he drags you over to his table and introduces you to his volleyball friends.

★ - he always has an arm around your shoulders or waist. he likes holding you close to his side, enjoying how small you felt next to how tall he was. you certainly weren't complaining.

★ - loves hugging you from behind, resting his chin on your head and his hands dangling off your shoulders. also a big ego boost for him about his height.

★ - loves lazy cuddling in his bed. holds you close as the two of you watch a movie at his house. you groan when he falls asleep, but he grumbles and says, "how can I help it when you're so soft?"

★ - holds your chin when you kiss, so you can't get embarrassed and pull away. of course, if you want to stop, he will, but he won't let you hide. not from him.

★ - carries your bags and books for you in the school hallway.

★ - you have a box in his closet with all your belongings for when you're over there. sweatshirts, underwear, etc...

★ - handholding is a must. he's a surprisingly affectionate guy for seemingly being so lazy.

★ - buys your favorite flavor of chapstick so he always tastes good for you when you kiss. it's small, but it's sweet and thoughtful.

★ - always is sharing clothes with you. sometimes he'll purposefully leave his sweatshirts at your house in hopes you'll show up to school the next day.

★ - always buys you your favorite chocolates before dates. he'll stop by the store and grab them, even if you guys are just going to a picnic in the park or something.

★ - loves swimming. he loves to drag you and the other third-years to go swimming with him. is constantly pushing you off the dock and then jumping in after to you and pretending he didn't.

★ - is always willing to give piggyback rides when your feet/legs hurt. volleyball has built up a lot of muscle for him, and lifting you is no harder than lifting his baby brother.

★ - petnames include "baby, sugar, and sweetheart." along with multiple silly nicknames based on your name.

★ - dating matsukawa issei feels like summer all over again, even in the deep frostbite of japan's winter season. he's warm and soft and cuddly. he feels like late mornings in bed, sheets tangled and the sun peering in through the windows. it feels like freshly washed linen and blooming gardens. matsukawa issei feels like a breath of fresh air.

★ - matsukawa pins your wrists above you as you fuck, watching you gasp and squirm and be completely unable to do something about it as he overstimulates you.

★ - matsukawa can't keep his mouth off you. he's kissing your lips, your breasts, sucking deep marks into your neck, biting at your hips.

★ - matsukawa pounds into you until the sheets beneath you both are soaked with your fluids and the only noise leaving you are soft little "ah-ah-ah"'s.

★ - matsukawa loves to brush your hair from you eyes and watch as they cloud over with lust and want.

★ - matsukawa can't help but smirk and grow a bit hard when he sees you in your bathing suit.

★ - he loves sweet dirty talk.

★ - "can't help but touch you when you look so pretty just for me, baby."

★ - doesn't let you hide your face. "c'mon baby, let me see your face when you cum."

★ - is obsessed with eating you out. he loves the way you taste, and feels intoxicated when he's between your thighs. matsukawa issei is totally pussy drunk off you.

★ - he absolutely adores teasing you in public, watching you blush and bite your lip as your thighs rub together. you try so hard to maintain conversation with oikawa, iwaizumi, and hanamaki but you can't help the way you stutter and squirm as his hand brushes your clit, fingers touching you through your soaked panties.

★ - he loves it when you whine and cry for him.

★ "please," you gasp, reaching for him. he pins your hands above your head with one hand of his own, and your hips buck lightly. "i need you, issei."

★ - "shh, don't cry baby," he'll coo as he kisses your wet cheeks, "i'll touch you baby, i promise."

★ - he begs for just the tip after a stressful day at work, and he keeps his promise to go no further but you can't help the way you twitch and squirm. he'll hide his face in your neck, his hand firmly planted on your hip as he tries so hard not to bottom-out in you.

★ - laughs as your hands fumble with his belt, shaking and desperate for his cock.

★ - covers his mouth and hopes his groans are relatively quiet when you sneak under his desk while on a video call with his clients at the funeral home. tries his hardest to stay focused as you lick along his length and pop his tip into your mouth.

★ - loves semi-public sex. he'll fuck you in a closet at a family gathering, tease you under the table, grind against you behind the kitchen counter while everyone else is in the kitchen.

★ - has very high stamina and can easily go a handful of rounds. your pleasure always comes before his anyway.

[warlocksoup]

festering: i. matsukawa

she looks for comfort and reprieve in the soft skin of strangers, and finds it in matsukawa issei

spinoff of rot

back to the masterlist

pairing: matsukawa x f!reader

status: coming february 2025

warnings: angst, alcohol use, violence/blood, crimes, poverty, smoking, flawed characters, anger issues, mental health issues, bad mothers, hookups, internalized slut-shaming, unhealthy coping mechanisms, cheating (kind of), smoking, set in 2006 bc rot is set in 2006, overused tropes, general oocness

taglist: open, complete this form to be added

chapter one: bodies

chapter two: consumption

chapter three: punishment

© warlocksoup: do not copy or repost

[adumbratrapedme]

dating you for a bet | pt.2 Matsukawa Ending

check out for pt1 here! | Oikawa's ending

It had been weeks since that night—weeks of empty hallways, stolen glances, and a deafening silence where laughter once existed. Oikawa had tried to reach out, sending texts that remained unread and leaving voicemails that went unanswered. He knew he had shattered something fragile and irreplaceable, but he wasn’t willing to let it end like this. Not without trying.

But after days of chasing, he gave up—just for a while. Maybe if he gave you space, if he stopped pressing, you’d come back to him on your own. It was the hardest thing he had ever done, but he forced himself to wait.

That’s when he started noticing Matsukawa acting strangely.

At first, he didn’t think much of it. But then there were the quick glances at his phone, the way he answered texts with uncharacteristic urgency, his rare nervous stutters. Matsukawa, of all people, blushing at something on his screen? Oikawa wasn’t stupid. He knew those signs too well.

And then there was practice—Matsukawa suddenly in a rush to leave, making excuses, slipping away earlier than usual... weird...

One afternoon, he decided to stop waiting. He was going to fix things. He was going to get you back.

That’s when he saw you—in the library, sitting across from Issei. And you were smiling. Genuinely. The kind of smile he had spent months trying to put on your face, the kind that once belonged to him.

His fists clenched. He was about to march over, to interrupt, to reclaim what was his. But before he could take a step, a firm hand grabbed his shoulder.

“Don’t,” Iwaizumi’s voice was quiet but firm.

Oikawa turned, his frustration bubbling. “Iwa-chan, let go. I need to—”

“You need to let her be happy,” Iwaizumi cut him off, his sharp eyes unwavering. “It’s mattsun's turn now.”

Oikawa swallowed, something heavy settling in his chest. “What the hell are you talking about?”

Iwaizumi sighed. “Matsun liked her even before you did. He noticed her way before you ever did, but he didn’t do anything because he thought she liked you. And now that you screwed up, he finally has a chance to make her happy. And from the looks of it… he is.”

Oikawa turned back toward the library, watching as you laughed at something Matsukawa said. The way his friend looked at you, like you were the most precious thing in the world—he had never seen Matsukawa look at anyone like that before, damn, he doesn't even think he ever looked at you like that when you were still together...

His stomach twisted, his heart sinking deeper into the abyss of his own regret. This was different from losing a game. This was losing something he could never get back.

For the first time in his life, Oikawa Tooru realized there were some things that no amount of effort could fix. And it destroyed him.

[hanmaitani]

You Won't Remember This

PAIRING - Bodyguard!Matsukawa x Reckless!Reader WC - 4.7K GENRE - Angst, Suggestive CW - language. tracking app used. drinking, partying. grinding, unwanted groping. kinda implied size kink? almost dry humping?

PREV PART | MASTERLIST | NEXT PART

You hate him. Matsukawa that is. It wasn't that he was a terrible person or anything like that. He's not. He's perfect. The perfect fucking bodyguard. And you hate that.

In just two weeks of being your bodyguard, you've already tried to put him through the ringer. In just two weeks he'd already taken more of your shit than any previous bodyguard of yours had ever been able to handle.

You had disappeared on him, flirted with him, intentionally put yourself in harm's way. He'd dealt with you all but throwing yourself at him, trying to get him to break, to quit, something. You were trying to test his limits, you wanted a reaction.

The man didn't even crack. He took everything you gave him in stride, an eye roll and a grumble was all you got in response.

You hated him and hated how incredibly respectable he was too. He ignored all your taunting. He protected you in the most miniscule ways, mundane things that he did without a second thought.

He followed the damn sidewalk rule for god's sake. You would be trying to balance along the curb, teetering on the edge of danger and suddenly his hand was there, encompassing your hip and drawing you to walk on the inside of the sidewalk while he took the position closer to the street.

And his hands. His goddamn hands. You seemed to bump into them more often than the edges and corners of things that you usually ran into. He protected you from any possible marks or bruises he could.

The worst part was... it was like he did it all without even thinking. like protecting you was an instinct. You would look over to him every time he did something to protect you and he wouldn't even be paying you any mind. He'd be completely engaged in something else.

It frustrated you to no end.

Usually you would save the tactic of completely ditching your bodyguard for later, to be used as your last resort. You had defaulted to using it on day four with Matsukawa.

You'd slipped away in the middle of an event. Disappearing with the intent of meeting up with your friends at a nearby bar. You thought you'd been successful, that you had skillfully slipped his protection detail. And then you saw him, walking into your bar not even an hour after you'd disappeared from him.

He'd dragged you out by your arm as you protested. He'd downloaded a stupid tracker app to your phone. You'd rambled and ranted at him for an hour about how entirely unnecessary and violating that was... only to disappear from his watch again the very next day.

He'd found you then too. You had deleted the app but had forgotten to stop posting your outing on your social media. Or on your friend's social media. He made it his job to know all the spots you and your friends visited. Even without geotagged photos, he could figure it out from a few photos.

It was like he had been studying you like he'd have an exam or something. And he was quickly becoming an expert.

It took you nearly two weeks to finally lose him for more than two hours. And you fully intended to take advantage of that.

You had disappeared last night. Never made it home - never intended to really. Instead, you found yourself out on a long overdue binge with your friends. You hadn't been sober all day and had once again found yourself at a new bar with your friends after the sun had set.

It was crowded in the bar and you'd found your way to the dance floor long ago, pressed between your friends. You were laughing when the figure at the bar's entrance caught your eye.

You groaned as you saw Matsukawa dip through the open door, eyes scanning the crowd until they found his target. He locked his eyes on you, glaring as he watched you squeeze your way away from your friends and towards the bar.

He tried to make his way through the cramped bar quickly. People made way for him but not fast enough. You were leaning on the bar, downing your newest drink, when he finally reached you.

"Heyyy Matsukawa." You barely kept the giggle out of your words but you couldn't help the smirk on your lips as you took in his demeanor.

He was annoyed. His jaw was set stern as he looked down at you. Anger radiated off his muscled form. Really nice muscles. Your drunk brain let your eyes wander down the expanse of flesh on his crossed arms, exposed by his tight short-sleeved shirt.

"Where were you last night?" His voice drew your attention again and it sent a quick shock through your chest. He sounded like he was actually worried, like he cared about you and not just the job.

You faltered for a second before shaking it off with a laugh. You waved down the bartender for another drink, turning away from Matsukawa to lean on the bar - sure to press your elbows together for the bartender - as you replied. "Been out, busy, having fun." You sent him a sideways glance to watch his irritation grow, the response of your own system was giddy.

"Hey!" He snapped and snatched the drink from the bartender before it even got to you. You rolled your eyes and turned back to face him, annoyance taking over your expression. "Y/n, you know you're not supposed to leave without me or a replacement."

You scoffed and let your smirk grow in amusement. Oh righteous bodyguard. You nimbly snatched your drink back from him and stuck the straw in your mouth, speaking around it. "See, but you're no fun. Have a little fun, Mattsun."

You made an exaggerated pout around your straw as you sucked down some of the drink. Mattsun's eyes lingered a second too long on the action but you were too drunk to even register the flicker of his eyes. You were too busy turning over your own words in your head.

You stepped away from the counter, quickly having to rebalance yourself. The bar top had made it easier to pretend like you were more sober than you truly were, but your vision was spinning and so was the room. "I have an idea." You giggled as you tossed the straw, choosing to tip your glass to your lips instead.

His answer was immediate, before you even got to share your idea. "No."

You pouted again but stepped towards him this time instead of away. You missed the way his muscles tensed as you wrapped your hand around one of his crossed arms, fingers unable to wrap completely around his wrist. You stepped back, trying to tug him with you by his wrist.

"You haven't even heard my idea yet, Mattsun." Your voice was whiny, thick with alcohol. You finished your drink quickly, dropping it on the counter as you stepped backwards towards the crowd.

His arm stretched across the space between the two of you, his body refusing to move with yours. "That look in your eyes, it means nothing good."

You wiped the pout off your face and brought your smirk back. "Just want you to come and dance with me Mattsun." The nickname kept rolling off your lips, something you'd only ever heard your brother and your driver call him. You missed how he had to force his eyes away from watching the way your lips formed the word.

He sighed, rolling his eyes at your incessant tugging, the slurred please leaving your glossy lips between giggles. "You can stay." It was your first sign of weakness from him. The first crack in his exterior. He gave in, just a little. "I'm not dancing with you."

You took it with a laugh, dropping his arm and leaving before he changed his mind. You migrated back to your friends easily, squeezing in between bodies to get there, only to press yourself directly against one of them as soon as you got there.

It was normal for you, to dance against your friends in a bar like this. Grinding against their bodies as the alcohol flooded your veins like blood. You might have been overdoing it this time, however, but the thought never truly crossed your mind.

Your eyes kept flicking over to Matsukawa as your pressed your body into your friends. He had migrated away from the bar and towards a wall, leaning against it, arms crossed again and jaw set in stone.

You noticed, every time you looked over to him, he never took his eyes off of you. He couldn't even if he wanted to. Your skirt was short, the sides cut out and replaced with buckles. It barely covered anything and rode up every time you moved. Your shirt didn't cover much more, your chest barely covered and your back mostly exposed.

He wasn't even close to the only one noticing. You caught the eyes of many around you. Your friends and strangers alike.

Your friends brought you an endless supply of drinks and he sincerely wanted them to stop, but he was choosing his battles wisely. His current battle was not walking over and ripping you away from everyone else to take you home.

You kept locking eyes with him, like you were now, while pressed against a man he didn't recognize.

The man behind you had his hands on your hips, just above the cut outs in your skirt, fingers lingering close to the buckles that held the front and back together. He traced the metal of them while you danced. You barely noticed.

You refused to look away from Matsukawa. Your eyes lingered on the flex of his muscles while he watched you grind your hips against the man behind you.

You stopped minding the man behind you, not even feeling his breath fanning against your neck as you watched Matsukawa's eyes rake up and down your form. They were watchin how your hips moved, but his willpower was too strong to give in to the temptation you gave him as you tried to beckon him over.

You'd almost completely forgotten about the man behind you until his fingers dipped into the cute of your skirt.

Matsukawa watched as your eyes widened, your concentration on him breaking as you tried to swat at the stranger's hands. He nearly growled when the man behind you pulled you closer instead of letting you go.

Matsukawa kicked off the wall immediately, quickly pushing through the crowd and beelined to where you were snapping at the man who still held you.

"I swear to god, take your hands off me." Your nails were scraping against his wrists. "Now."

Matsukawa just barely caught the man behind you laughing as the words slurred out of his lips. "Do you think I'm scared of a woman?" The man asked, just before you watched Matsukawa's hand grab the stranger's arm in an unforgiving grip.

You were quick to slink behind Matsukawa's frame, his body hiding yours as his grip bruised your assailant. "You should be scared of me."

Your mouth parted slightly, hating the fuzzy feeling that grew in your stomach at the way Matsukawa growled out the threat. Your eyes widened as you realized that a brief thought had crossed your mind. You shook your head free of it, the dizziness coming back as you tuned out the men in front of you.

When Matsukawa released the man and shooed him off, his intention was to turn and grab you , to take you home. But as he turned, you were already gone. He groaned as he caught sight of you through the crowd, now halfway across the room, tipping another glass against your lips as one of your friends encouraged you towards the stage.

You laughed as you climbed onto the stage and he glared, watching you lean towards the pianist playing. Your song request was heeded quickly, the man smiling as he cut his song short and picked up a new beat.

Matsukawa began pushing his way through the crowd again, but the crowd only got denser closer to the stage. Especially now, since there was something to watch.

Two of your friends joined you on stage, encouraging you to dance. Your hands were in your hair, clothes revealing more and more skin as you swung your hips on stage to the song.

Matsukawa took a deep irritated breath as he finally made it to the edge of the stage. It took everything in himself to pry his eyes off your hips, off the skin of the tops of your thighs. He swallowed the lump in your throat as he caught your eye.

You smirked, giggle on your lips as you beckoned him up with one finger - only to have him shake his head, denying you. You only shrugged and laughed as he worriedly glanced around at all the hungry eyes on you up there.

His eyes only rolled when you turned your back on him again, crawling your way onto the piano to lay down. You laughed as people in the crowd whooped and hollered, encouraging you. You threw a few flirty winks around the crowd before looking at Matsukawa again.

He looked so serious in the crowd, a stone against the pushing of the other guests, and you couldn't help but bite your lip. You kept your half-open eyes locked on him as you arched your back off the piano, taking pride in how his body seemed to straighten up more when his eyes flicked across your body.

The song was over much too quickly for your liking. Much too slowly for his. You were laughing nonetheless when your friends came off the stage with you. You giggled when Matsukawa reached you, taking your new glass out of your hands as your friends talked about heading to another bar. You were set to agree when Matsukawa cut you off.

"Actually, we're leaving early, we have something to get to." His words were said in a definitive tone, one that you didn't pick up right away through your drunken haze.

"What?" You shook your head, "no we don't-" you caught his pointed glance and groaned, "oh, okay fine." You sighed and turned back to your friends. "I'll call you guys later."

You were still giggly, despite your night cut short, as you said your goodbyes and pointed your steps towards the door. You tried to get there before Matsukawa did, your irritation in him growing. You weren't done partying but if he wanted you to leave your friends, you would do just that.

"Y/n, where are you going?" You rolled your eyes, steps stuttering as you traveled away from the bar, ignoring him. "Do not ignore me."

You cursed as you nearly fell, catching yourself on the wall. "Fuck off, Matsukawa." You called back, shrieking slightly when you realized that he was next to you.

"Take off your heels." He instructed, only for you to swat his hands away when he reached for you. He rolled his eyes when you tried to push away from him, falling only to be barely caught in time by him.

You wined as he lifted you easily into his arms, one tucking under your legs as the other wrapped around your waist. Your face flushed hot as you felt his muscles constrict around your form. "Wh-what are you doing!"

"I'm carrying you home." You pushed at his arms, trying to get out of his grip but he paid you no mind. It was easy for him to manhandle your body, tossing you over his shoulder as he started to walk, his large hand covering the back of your thighs easily to keep you in place.

Your eyes widened as you clamped your thighs together, afraid he'd be able to note the rush of heat that flooded your core, that it would embarrass you. "Put me down!" You protested as you slammed your hands against his back, watching the ground under you move as he carried you towards where you assumed his car was.

He sighed and you could feel his hair brush against the skin of your hip as he shook his head at you. "Would you quit beating me up!" You froze and whined when his hands roughly grabbed each of your upper thighs, unintentionally letting his fingers tuck themselves between them.

Your whole body felt hot by the time he dropped you down in the front seat of his car. Your brain was fuzzy, all-consumed by him as he shut your door and rounded to his own side.

Your next idea, you came to regret fairly quickly. If you'd have been sober, it would have stayed an idea. Instead, you acted on it.

Matsukawa leaned over you, dragging the seatbelt across your body to buckle you in. You unintentionally leaned closer to him. "Don't be mad at me Mattsun." You wore a pout on his lips but he refused to look at you as he started the car and began to drive. "Where are we going?" You giggled, leaning across the center console as you tried to drag your hand against his chest.

He was quick to grab your hand and push it back to your side of the car. "Stop." It was an order through clenched teeth. "I'm taking you home."

You giggled, smiling as you watched your hand find his bicep again. "You can take me to bed if you want." He sighed in response and glanced at you quickly. He took you in, glazed over eyes and bitten lips, gaze raking down his form as he drove you.

"God I cannot let your parents see you like this." You were giggling, hiccupping in between, as you tried to rub down his arm.

He only stared straight ahead as he drove, but at the next light, as he stopped, he was quick to remove your hands from his body. He put your hands, and your upper body, completely back onto your side of the car again.

"Why are you so mad at me?" Your voice was quiet now, tears edging it as another pout set into your features.

He snapped, "are you fucking kidding me!?" He turned away from you again to face the road as he drove. "What you're doing is fucking dangerous. Why would you do it?" He growled out his irritation and you tilted your head in confusion, wondering why he was so worked up when none of your other bodyguards had ever cared like that before. "Do you know how many fucking people would kill to touch you?" He was still talking, lecturing, but you'd lost your focus on his words.

People would kill to touch you.

You were staring at the way his hands tightened around the steering wheel of the car. You didn't even notice how you bit your lip, his hands made the wheel seem small in your eyes, but really they were just so big. Everything about him was big, actually.

Your eyes flicked down slightly for a moment and you clenched your thighs a bit. You would put money on everything about him being big...

You moved your hand toward him again but he caught it before you could touch him. You took the chance to keep his hand in your grasp. He let you keep it, placating your apparent need to touch him as he tried to drive.

You turned is hand over in your grip, fingers tracing the lines along his large palm. You were entranced by it, tuning out his voice. Your hands moved on your own, pressing your palm against his to compare the size difference between the two.

"And what about you, Mattsun?" You glanced back up at him, missing how his head quickly jerked away from staring at you to face front again. He'd stopped talking to watch they way you fit your hand against his own. He cleared his throat roughly, waiting for you to clarify yourself. "Do you want to touch me?"

Matsukawa swore that his breathing stopped for a second, his eyes flicked momentarily to the way you looked up at him from across the car's center. His lips formed the word before he had the chance to stop it. "Yes."

It was an admission spoken like a guilty man. One he knew he'd never make to you if he wasn't sure that you wouldn't remember this night when you woke up in the morning.

However, at this moment, the confession made a smile grow on your lips, your hands dragging his down to rest on your bare thigh. "You can touch me if you want." You enticed, parting your legs and trying to pull his hand between them.

He was quick to pull it out of your grasp and place it back on the wheel, a safe place for him to have it. "Not like this." It was a mumble that you could barely make out and his lack of action confused you.

You were still trying to get his attention back when he pulled into a parking lot that you didn't recognize. The building was a little run down and you realized, as Matsukawa got out of the car, that this must have been where his apartment was.

"Look Mattsun, we're already at your place." You whined as he guided you into the elevator, pressing the third floor. You had attached your body to his arm, your words slurring more than they had been at the beginning of your drive. "You can just take me to bed, Mattsun. I want you to."

He was trying not to look at you, blatantly ignoring the way that you were staring up at him, begging him to touch you. He denied your request again, watched as the doors opened and guided you down the hall towards his apartment door.

"Do you not want me?" Your voice sounded small, insecurity creeping into your words as your steps faltered, watching him slip his key into his lock.

He sighed and his movements were blurry in your eyes and you suddenly found yourself pressed between him and the door. Your chin was gripped in his hand, forcing you to look him in the eyes. Your breath hitched, you hadn't been this close to him since the kiss you'd shared only two weeks prior.

"Let me make myself very clear." You swallowed hard as you focused on him, his face perfectly clear with how close he was, despite your otherwise blurry vision. "Are you listening?" You nodded the best you could in his grip.

"Don't mistake my inaction as a lack of desire." You blinked and missed the way his eyes flicked to your lips briefly. "I want you so badly it pains me, but I want you to want me." You opened your mouth to speak but he never gave you the chance. "I want you to want me, sober." You subconsciously flicked your eyes back and forth between the two of his.

"You're trashed right now, you'll forget all of this by tomorrow." He sighed, his grip on your chin loosening slightly but neither of you moved yet. "And the first time I touch you," he let his eyes drag down your body and you could feel yourself shrinking under his gaze, your skin heating up with the way he seemed to eat you alive with just his eyes, "I want you to remember it."

You tried and failed to suppress the whimper that crawled its way out of your throat. "I want you to remember every touch, every feeling, every word and sound that leaves my lips." His lips, you were staring at them now, less than an inch away from your own and dangerously enticing.

You could feel yourself leaning towards him, wanting to connect your lips, but the wall behind you fell away. You gasped as he caught you again, guiding you through the now open door and walking into his apartment.

"Mattsun." You whined his name, confidence restored as you tugged on his arm.

"You can have the room, I'll sleep on the couch." He was back to ignoring you, not even looking at you as he sat on the couch to take off his shoes.

Your hands were on his shoulders in an instant, pushing them back against the couch as you swung your leg over him, settling yourself onto his lap. His hands instinctively found your hips, pulling you into a safer position without even thinking first.

Your hands were busy, dragging your top higher up your frame. You smiled when you watched a blush creep up his cheeks at the sight of your body. He quickly turned his face away from you before your top was fully gone.

"Please Mattsun," you were whining, trying to grab his face so he would look at you again, "just touch me," you liked the way your body felt under his eyes, "look at me."

"You're drunk." He whispered it, like he was reminding himself. His cheeks were hot against the palms of your hands. He was struggling, biting back a groan when you ground your hips down onto him. He squeezed his eyes shut and his grip on your hips tightened, trying to keep you from doing it again. "You need to stop."

You huffed in annoyance and let go of his face, your hands coming to his and trying to drag them to where your skirt had ridden up. "Mattsun," your voice was so so whiny and slurring as you tried to grind against him, moaning in frustration at the lack of friction, "want you so bad."

He kept his hands firm against you as you tried to drag them but they only adjusted in their grip, fingers sliding by the buckles of your skirt. His breath hitched and you smiled as you felt him harden under you, his eyes zoning in on the exposed skin of your hips.

"God," it came out as a groan, a prayer to whoever was listening, for help. You'd spent the whole night without any panties under your too-short skirt. His chest rose and fell heavily as he became entranced by the way your hips twitched in his bruising grip, desperate to be able to drag across his own hips.

"You need to stop." His voice sounded dazed. He was dazed, straining to keep the last bit of his self-restraint.

You whined a bit, your nails digging painful but pretty crescent shapes into his biceps. "Want you in me, Mattsun." He squeezed his eyes shut again, his jaw and hands clenching as he tried to ignore the pleasure sparking through his body as you barely grazed against his bulge.

"You can have me, Mattsun. However you want me."

He let out a string of curses as he felt his pants get even tighter, dangerously close to cumming in his pants from just the way you panted and whined his name. "You know where I want you?"

You hummed, your eyes fluttering from your wanton movements, your lips smiling as he lets you think you've won.

"I want you riiight here."

You let out a squeak as his grip on your hips suddenly lifted you up from his lap, setting you onto the couch. Your eyes flew open and your vision cleared for a moment.

He was above you now, standing, a clear bulge in his pants and a heavy blush spread from cheeks down to neck, but he made no move for you. "As soon as we're both sober, we can do every dirty little thing you ever dreamed of." It was a promise he knew that he would have to break, but with the way you panted, chest heaving as you looked up at him with glossy eyes, he couldn't bear to deny you in a harsher way.

You looked up at him, tried to lock eyes with him, and he had to look away. He swore that he could see your heart breaking in your eyes.

"Mattsun," you started quietly, arms coming up to cover your chest defensively.

He didn't let you finish. Instead, he turned and walked towards his bathroom. The door closing was definitive, a barricade between him and you - the temptation he almost couldn't fight.

a/n bodyguard mattsun, have my heart and soul....

TAGLIST - OPEN @boosyboo9206 @faumpje

[chrysalind]

numeracy

pairing: hanamaki takahiro x reader x matsukawa issei wc: 2.7k tags: pre-relationship, fluff, light angst, angst w/ happy ending, polyam, jealousy, implied iwaoi

“Truth or dare?”

You grind the heel of your sandal into the already packed sand below your feet. The air in front of you, warmed by the bonfire, must be at least ten degrees hotter than the dark void of brisk summer night at your back.

Hanamaki knocks his knee against yours, as if to egg you on, and the heat in your cheeks only intensifies. You make a small note of correction: the difference in temperature must be closer to fifteen.

“Truth,” you reply, not even considering the alternative. A chorus of groans sound from the other students and you count eight pairs of eyes on you, sixteen in total. Most are half-lidded from drink, but Matsukawa’s, you note, as they lazily meet yours, are just always like that. The smirk he wears is foreboding.

“Have you ever—” he leans forward and you swallow. Others look on in bated breath.

“—been with more than one person at a time?”

You blink, confused by the openness of the question. “Like…sex?”

He shrugs and shadows move jauntily across his torso as he waves his hand. “Sex, relationships, whatever.”

He says it casually, like he’s asking you whether you prefer coffee or tea. Like the discussion of polyamory, is as simple and commonplace as saying you like both drinks, depending on your mood.

But maybe his demeanour is so startling to you because you’re so sorely lacking in experience. After all, it was just last year that you’d finally grown comfortable being that close with one person, much less two. Yes, two is a good number for you; even, divisible, and simple enough.

“No,” you shake your head, grateful for an easy answer. “I’ve never even… I’ve never even dated more than one person at once.” You punctuate your answer with a laugh—a short giggle that you force out of nervousness more than anything. Thankfully, others—and Hanamaki, to your right—react in kind.

The game moves on when you call upon Oikawa, who theatrically accepts the dare of taking a moonlit dip in the ocean. As he runs off toward the nearby shore, Iwaizumi, who makes a big show of groaning and standing up, stalks off into the dark after him, mumbling something about making sure he doesn’t drown himself.

Their departure pauses the game and drunken chatter breaks out among the group almost immediately.

“You cold?” Hanamaki asks, long lashes casting shadows atop his cheeks. In the light of the fire, you can see two of the three freckles that sit on his left cheekbone, forming the base of what you’d previously observed to be an almost perfect equilateral triangle.

“A little,” you admit, feeling the cider slosh in its can as you make a show of rubbing your bare upper arm.

He shrugs off his zip-up sweater and drapes it over your shoulders, blanketing you in its warmth. You revel in the feeling—in this display of kindness, of affection—that had only grown more frequent between the two of you in the past few weeks. He leans back, as if to appraise you in this state, and a soft maritime breeze ruffles his bangs. One, you think, is more than enough for you. Especially if the one happens to be Hanamaki.

Oikawa returns in the next minute, dripping wet and glorious, wearing a teeth-chattering grin that doesn’t relent until he’s parked squarely in front of the fire. He had evidently neglected to take off his clothes before running into the surf and was now wearing a soaked pair of board shorts and Iwaizumi’s hoodie.

The other boy isn’t far behind him, a long-suffering scowl on his features as he takes his previous place. No one mentions that his clothes are also noticeably damp in many places, but a few giggle.

“Now,” Oikawa says, sweeping his gaze across the circle of their peers. He pushes back a lock of sopping wet hair, the action far more charming than could be replicated by anyone else. He zeroes in on a girl near the periphery of their group; a doe-eyed track athlete who you’d never seen out of athleisure.

“Sumire,” he singsongs, drawing out all three syllables of her name, and she leans back, playfully rolling her eyes. From the way she sways, you can tell that she’s had a good amount to drink, not unlike everyone else.

“Dare,” she puts forward with a grin and a wave of oooh’s ripple throughout your small group.

Oikawa makes a thoughtful noise, the fire in front of him dialing the mischievous light in his eyes up to a ten. “I dare you to kiss either Haruka or…” He scans the group once more, never pausing until—

“…Makki.”

Your mouth goes dry as you watch the two men share a smirk. Beside Sumire, Haruka tosses her hair and laughs before jokingly dodging a kiss from the taller girl.

“I guess Haruka won’t kiss me,” Sumire sighs dramatically before standing up. She strides across the circle, the drink making her swaying look more alluring than clumsy. Jealousy roils in you stomach, bitter and acerbic and it takes all your willpower to keep your hands unclenched.

It takes her all of four steps to reach the two of you, her flip-flops stopping just short of the edge of your shared towel. She crouches down in front of Hanamaki, who holds her stare with his own amused gaze. In your peripheral vision, you can see the others watching eagerly, their cheeks high with colour. Even Iwaizumi can’t feign disinterest. Matsukawa’s eyes meet yours and he dips his chin, the evening shadows masking his expression.

“You okay with this?” you hear Hanamaki say, just a fraction louder than a whisper. You turn to him, hope ballooning in your chest, but he isn’t looking at you.

He isn’t looking at you at all.

So it’s a mystery why you remain rooted in place, his sweater around your shoulders, and a desperate, ugly feeling in your chest that only digs its claws in deeper as she leans in.

He tilts his head to receive her and you watch—you all watch—as the kiss unfolds. It’s quick at first, just a brief peck on her lips that causes a laugh to bubble from her lips. She closes the distance again and the kiss morphs in nature; deepening into something less chaste. You freeze as she stumbles forward, her high ponytail fanning over to brush his cheek as he guides her into a straddle.

Nervous laughter sounds across the group and someone even whistles.

The jealousy within you is untenable now, bolstered by the white-hot humiliation that floods your system. You know that you hadn’t imagined the growing closeness between you—the late night texts, the flirty jokes, the invitation to come to this bonfire. So why are you being made to feel so stupid? Why did you have to be here at all?

The thought finally jars something within you, undoing the petrification that had previously taken hold of your limbs. You count three breaths, one inhale and one exhale each, before you uncross your legs to stand. Mumbling something about needing to use the bathroom, you stumble beyond the warm reach of the fire and into the cool night beyond.

Without the heat of the day, the grits of sand that find their way under your feet are damp and uncomfortably cold. You don’t let it deter you, however, as you make a beeline towards the lapping sounds of the shore. Salty air fills your lungs and you sniffle, trying to ignore the burn of moisture in your eyes as you make your way further towards the surf. Thankfully, there are few other groups tonight, scattered so far across the beach that it doesn’t take long for the din of drunken voices to be drowned out by the ocean.

You only stop once you reach a lifeguard tower, steadying your weight against the paint-chipped railing as you try to ground yourself. Your phone lets you know it’s almost midnight and you have half a mind to hike back to the parking lot and call a ride. After all, there’s nothing for you here.

“Hey.”

You whip your head around to face the sudden intrusion.

“It’s just—jeez, that’s fucking bright.” Matsukawa shields his eyes as you turn your phone’s flashlight on him.

“Matsukawa,” you say, putting your phone away.

“You can just call me Issei.” His tall figure, now shrouded in darkness, comes to sit next to you on the steps of the tower.

“I mean, we’ve known each other for…a year now?”

“Seven months,” you correct softly, pulling Hanamaki’s sweater tighter across your arms. “But o-okay…Issei.”

The silence between you stretches and settles, feeling almost comfortable as you sit together and look out at the dark horizon.

“You know it probably didn’t mean anything,” he says, as you slide onto the step above him.

You brush a damp layer of sand from your lower calf and consider feigning ignorance. In the end, you’re unable to shake it off.

“It didn’t look like that,” you say bitterly. “It seemed like he was having a lot of fun, actually.”

“Oh come on,” he says, his curls ruffling softly in the breeze, “you know what Makki’s like. He’s just down for anything.”

You sigh. You know this to be true, you just thought that maybe, just maybe, that something would change because something between you had changed. At least you thought it did.

“Trust me,” Matsukawa says, shoulder brushing against your hip as he leans back. “He likes you.”

“Really?” you breathe, catching the dark shine of his eyes when he turns to look at you.

“Yeah, I mean,” the wooden step creaks as he places his weight on it, “isn’t it obvious?” His gaze flickers down to your Cupid’s bow.

You swallow, suddenly wondering if he can see the stray smudge of tinted gloss on your upper chin.

“Issei,” you begin, your own voice sounding far away. “Do you think he thinks that I’m…”

He tilts his head. “That you’re…?”

“Pretty,” you utter, just above a whisper. You clear your throat. “Do you think he thinks I’m pretty?”

Matsukawa softens. “Of course he does,” he murmurs, shifting to sit on the step beside you.

“I know I do.”

“Really?” you blurt out, cheeks warm.

“Yes.” He gives you a sidelong glance. “I think you’re beautiful.”

Your next action, fuelled by the lingering buzz of liquor, is far clumsier than you’d like. You lean towards him and clumsily crush your lips against his—or at least where you think his lips are—only to miss and bump against his jaw. Thankfully, he only readjusts and smiles into your next kiss, his hand settling on your waist as he moves in closer.

His fingers ghost across your cheek and you draw in a stuttering breath, your mind spinning as he cages you against the worn steps. He plants a knee between your legs, nudging apart your thighs and if you were any less drunk, you think you’d feel a little bit of shame for being so pliant. However, even the thought of it is extinguished when he dips into the crook of your neck and drags his tongue across the hollow of your throat.

“I-Issei.” you squirm, your chest fluttering as he slips his hand up the hem of your shirt. He moves back up to kiss you, open-mouthed and languid as you continue to moan into his mouth.

It’s only a few seconds later when a cough sounds somewhere to your right and you yelp, scrambling backward as Issei looks up.

“Hey man,” he says to Hanamaki, still caging you beneath him.

“Oh my god,” is the only thing you’re able to utter. Your eyes dart between the two men, your chest tightening as the shock causes your limbs to lock in place.

“What’s up?” Hanamaki asks, sounding entirely calm. Amused, even.

Matsukawa’s eyes land on your shocked expression and it takes three whole seconds for him to back off of you.

“You know,” he replies, winking at you before turning away, “just hanging out.”

“Can I—?” Hanamaki asks, motioning towards you and Matsukawa stands up.

“Yeah, for sure.”

You watch as Matsukawa jaunts off the last step of the tower, steps softened by the sand as he walks away. Swallowing, you stare down at the ground, your pulse thundering in your ears as Hanamaki approaches you.

“Hey,” he says softly, wood creaking with his weight as he takes a seat beside you. “Can we talk?”

An agonizing mix of embarrassment and anger causes your throat to stick.

“Sorry about before, I just…” He reclines, planting an elbow between you. “It was just a stupid dare.”

“Didn’t look that way to me,” you snark before cringing at your own hypocritical nature.

“I know,” he mumbles. “But I promise that I don’t like Sumire like that. And I know that it was fucked up for me to kiss her like that in front of you, especially when—”

You glance up at him.

“—especially when I know how you feel about me.”

Blood rushes to your cheeks and you snap your gaze away again. You hear the water recede across the shore.

“Do you like Mattsun?” he asks as you watch a small wave lap across the sand.

“What?” Because that wasn’t the question you were expecting.

“Mattsun,” he reiterates, a half-smile playing at his lips. “Do you like him?”

“I—” you knit your brow, brain scrambling to piece together an appropriate response. You try not to think of your neck, still sensitive from the light drag of his teeth across your pulse point. “N-not in the way that I… I mean, I don’t really know him as well as—”

“It’s okay,” Hanamaki continues, entirely unperturbed. “I know he likes you.”

“Oh.” You twist your fingers into the sleeve of his sweater.

“I like you too,” he adds and you blink. “I like you a lot.”

“I-is that so?” you reply, stunned. You’ve thought about this moment in a dozen different ways, cycling through different settings, details, and ways he could finally, finally say something, but never in a million years could you have predicted this.

“I think we should spend more time together,” he suggests with an easy smile. Not so far in the distance, you spot Matsukawa near the shore. “All three of us, I mean.”

He takes your hand in his, rubbing his thumb into the soft flesh of your palm.

“Would you like that?”

The gears turn slowly in your head, the situation still feeling hard to grasp as all the point are laid out in front of you.

You bite the inside of your cheek. “Can I think about it?”

“Of course,” he says breezily, before pulling you to your feet. “Take all the time you need.”

As if sensing the timing of the conclusion of your conversation, Matsukawa makes his way back toward you.

“We should really get back though.” Hanamaki says, as he leads you down the tower. “Before Iwaizumi thinks we all ran drunk into the sea and calls the coast guard.”

He keeps his hand in yours as you make your way back up the beach and Matsukawa falls in step beside you. You look up when his knuckles brush against the side of your arm and he gives you a knowing smirk.

Two is a good number for you, you think as you tentatively return his smile.

But three?

Three might be even better.

[cottonlemonade]

Dating You For A Bet [Part 2]

word count: 1756 || avg. reading time: 8 mins.

pairing: University AU!Matsukawa x chubby!Reader

genre: angst

warnings: bullying

[part 1]

The following days were miserable. Between dodging Matsukawa lurking outside your dorm and having to see him in most of your seminars and lectures it was hard to pretend that you didn’t care, much to the delight of the fellow students who apparently had nothing better to do or collectively lost their WiFi and were starved for entertainment. They threw glances between the two of you as if following a tennis match, although you were stubbornly pretending to follow the lesson while Issei just listlessly stared at his closed book.

He had tried to talk to you after lectures, during lunch, or when he ran into you at the convenience store but to no avail. You remained strong, frequently reminding yourself that everything from your first kiss to the first time sleeping together was solely done to win a bet. A bet! To him, you were nothing more than some easily manipulated, naive girl from a country he probably didn’t even know how to spell. The three crumpled notes from that day were still at the bottom of your trash can, unread, and now buried under more paper scraps, gum wrappers, and empty juice boxes. Your roommate hadn’t noticed or questioned why you didn’t leave in the evenings anymore to go on dates. Chances were that she had read about the whole thing online.

You were tired of it all. The initial burst of energy you felt, fueled by nothing but spite, had finally ebbed away and at this point, Christmas was drawing nearer and nearer and you ran on fumes. Having tried to deep dive into homework and assignments had left you fatigued and vulnerable, so it came to no surprise that a month after the break up you couldn’t take it anymore. You had figured that the other students would eventually move on to the next shiny thing but not so. A small group of boys and girls stood in front of the library with coffee cups steaming in their hands. You braced yourself inwardly. You just wanted to quickly return a book and then you’d be on your way again. When you approached them they interrupted their conversation to very obviously look you up and down as if judging your post-break-up fashion choices.

“I just knew there had to be a reason for him dating her.”, one of them said, deliberately loud enough for you to hear.

“Oh my god, I know right? I can’t believe she fell for it. I mean, what would someone like him ever see in someone like her.”, another piped up.

“Honestly kudos to him, I dunno if I could have gotten it up with her in bed.” They laughed.

You stopped on your way up the stairs. Matsukawa stood in front of you just coming out of the building, a tattered, well-annotated book in hand and his bag half-hearted slung over his shoulder.

The group of friends gasped quietly and hushed each other, waiting.

“Y/n…”, Issei said softly, then snapped at the others, “Don’t you have somewhere to be?!”

They laughed again but hurried inside.

“Y/-“

He couldn’t even finish the word. You had already turned around and walked away. And he would have let you get the space you needed if he didn’t see you cry. Readjusting his bag he slowly made his way down the steps and followed you, a couple of meters behind.

Whenever you missed your family he had tried to bring a bit of home to you with a traditional dish he knew you loved - that he usually messed up - or by watching a Disney movie in your native language while snuggling up on his bed under a blanket. But what had helped you most of all when you were upset was always a simple hug. And he never let go first. He made sure that you knew he would hold you as long as you needed. When you first told him you loved him he was wracked with guilt. He had since come to realize how messed up the whole thing was and tried to get out of it. He lied when his friends asked him if he had completed the bet but his roommate had only patted him on the back and accused him of being modest. And he, Issei, had forced a smile and accepted the money feeling like the most disgusting person in the world. The money still sat untouched in his sock drawer. He didn’t want to use it. He felt ashamed of himself but whenever he spent time with you he was weirdly glad that he agreed to the bet. Otherwise, who knows if he would have walked up to you as he had. Privately, to make himself feel better, he thought, of course he would have.

He would have noticed eventually how amazing you were.

He would have eventually seen how much you two had in common, that in all actuality you were his dream girl.

He would have. Eventually. Wouldn’t he?

Probably not, he had to admit. Ever since puberty hit him like a truck he walked around with a newfound level of confidence. This must have been what it was like for Oikawa back then - girls doing a double take and smiling when they saw him, little admiring love notes tucked quickly into his workbook when he wasn’t looking. All the attention slowly rose to his head and he became arrogant, leading to agreeing to a bet he would have punched his friends for in high school.

Hands in his pockets and breath forming little clouds in front of him, Issei’s heart broke all over again when he caught a small sound from you like a sniffle or a sob. As if on reflex his hand slid into the front of his bag to check for tissues, then remembered you probably wouldn’t accept them.

You finally came to a halt at a bench near your dorm. You spun around and stared at him icily through red puffy eyes.

“Stop following me. You know this is creepy, right?”

“I prefer to see it as romantic.”

You scoffed. “It’s only romantic if feelings are reciprocated.”

He swallowed hard. “… I deserved that.” Then he reached into his bag and retrieved a water bottle, walked a little closer, and held it out.

“Here, drink something. I can see you squinting like you do when you’re about to get a massive headache, come on.”

You had a retort ready to launch but your head was starting to pound from the crying so with a scowl you took it and gulped down a few sips.

“None of this makes what you did okay.”, you said, unwavering.

He nodded. “I know. - Can I hold you anyway? Just til you stop crying.”

His question made new tears well in your eyes and he closed the gap between you. Before he hugged you, he hesitated in case you would kick and scream if he did. When you only continued to cry he wrapped his arms around you. At first, it was like hugging a mannequin. Then he felt you shiver and sob harder and he squeezed you tighter.

This, the warmth of him, smell of him, soothing murmurs in your ear, made it all too easy to forget for a moment why he wasn’t yours anymore.

You subconsciously grabbed onto his jacket and he started slowly swaying from side to side. He missed you so damn much. His eyes began to sting.

And on reflex like he always had, he pressed his lips against your temple, then against your cheek, then your lips. You stiffened for a moment, then returned the kiss. With his heart swelling in his chest, he cupped your cheeks to wipe away the tears, but you were already pushing him away.

“No! You can’t just… this is not okay. You hurt me! You … you broke my heart! I feel embarrassed! And pathetic. And betrayed! Don't you understand?!”

His vision blurred and he lowered his head to stare at your shoes again to hide that he started crying as well. He just nodded at first, then took a shallow breath to calm down a little.

“I know.”, he said, his voice thick and raspy. He cleared his throat, “What I did was horrible. And immature. And there is no way I can take it back. But I do love you.”

“Tch.”

“So much. I don’t want to be without you.”

“Would you give me another chance?”, you asked suddenly.

He looked up. “What?”

“If you were in my shoes. If I did to you what you did to me. Could you just get over that? Imagine if someone way out of your league started flirting with you because they thought it was funny. Because they wanted to see if they could make you fall in love. For fun.”

“That’s not… I’m so so sorry, Y/n.”

“Stop saying that!”

“I don’t know what else to do! Please, tell me, I’ll do anything!”

“There is nothing you can do! I told you it’s over!”

“I refuse to believe that! Let me show you how much I love you! I know that some part of you still loves me, too. And I know you’ll forgive me eventually because you’re a much better person than I am.”

“I think you severely underestimate just how petty I can be and how much I love holding grudges.”, you retorted and the smallest smile twitched on his lips.

There was a pause in which his expression turned gentler again and he used the sleeve of his jacket to mop up the tears gathering on his chin. “Tell me what I can do.”

“Actually show me that you’re sorry? - And find better friends.”

“Done.”

“I’m serious.”

“So am I.”, he said firmly, “You’ll see.”

“Hm hm.”, you said doubtfully and held out the bottle to him, “Thanks for the water. I should get going.”

“Book club tonight, right?”, he asked. It was still set as a permanent reminder in his phone’s calendar so that he’d come to pick you up afterward to walk you to your dorm.

“Actually… I have a date.”

You waited for a moment before you dared to look at him again. His face had fallen and he seemed at a loss for words. When you brushed past him you half expected him to grab your hand again, to try to talk you out of it. But nothing. He stood exactly where you left him and so you went inside.

tags because I genuinely appreciate all your comments and reblogs: @samoankpoper21 @garouaddict @gojoscloset @multi-fandom-fanfic @crazyyanderefangirlfan

[part 3]

[bluemotifofsleep]

Shield My Heart

knight! iwaizumi x princess! reader

-it was his duty to love her, and even if it wasn’t, he’d do it anyway. iwaizumi’s devotion came as easy as breathing.

read part one first :)

part two: a locked cage, and a sinking ship.

~

it’s hard to be a princess, and not be grateful.

it’s hard, but you do it anyway.

it’s not like you aren’t grateful for your life, you know you are much more privileged than most. you have a warm bed with as many pillows and blankets your heart could disire. you have warm meals waiting for you every morning when the sun rises, and every evening when the sun sets. people wait on you hand and foot, people bow to you, people sugar their words and widen their smiles and praise you fraudulently, just to be on your good side.

you have a castle at your fingertips, you have a whole kingdom. you understand that you are privileged, and you’re grateful for it, really.

but sometimes, you wish you were born someone else.

and you know, if you asked any girl in the kingdom, they would switch places with you in a heartbeat. which is maybe why you always have this festering, gnawing guilt that never seems to go away. it itches at the inside of your brain like a sickness and infects your mind until all of your thoughts are tainted with it.

you know what people think being a princess is like. you’ve heard the whispers biting at your heels, the distain and jealousy that follows you around like a second skin. people cant help but resent you, when you appear to have everything they’ve ever wanted.

in reality, being a princess is not what it seems.

being a princess is having eyes on you at all times. expectations that grow so much bigger than you, sometimes you feel they will swallow you whole. it’s having the weight of a crown bear on your neck without ever putting it on. being a princess is devoting your life to appearances, to other people’s opinions. being a princess is being something that everyone thinks you are.

your duty, is being anyone but yourself.

and you know, that it’s selfish.

to have dreams outside of the castle is traitorous to your kingdom, it’s treasonous to imagine yourself as anything but a good, well behaved, charming princess. a good daughter to the King, a beacon of hope for the less-fortunate, a spokesperson of the people.

but sometimes selfishness claws its way into your mind and won’t let go. it finds its way into every thought until all you can think of is “what if”. what if you weren’t a princess? what would your life be like, what would your days be packed with instead of trying on pretty dresses that you really could care less about, learning proper table manners, and swallowing your own tongue until it feels like you might choke on it.

sometimes, you wonder if your unhappiness is coming from inside you like rot. sometimes you dread that it’s not your life that’s the problem, but it’s you.

maybe you’re a bad seed. maybe no matter where you were planted, you would shrivel and rot just the same.

if you had a different life, would you still be selfish, too?

you wish you could grow roots and stable yourself, reach them outside the castle walls and finally breath. finally be free of this glorious title, that you resent, and you never asked for.

~

iwaizumi hajime hasn’t been sleeping well.

it’s a fact that has been pointed out by many, not that it needed to be. of course, oikawa just can’t keep his damn mouth shut sometimes, so iwaizumi must suffer anyways.

“you know, a little beauty sleep never hurts! your eye bags are making me feel tired.”

“your hair looks especially spiky today. long night?”

whatever that means.

unlike his polished brunette counterpart, fluffing his well-kept hair every morning and whispering devotedly of smooth skin and the absence of frown lines, iwaizumi doesn’t care much for how he looks. he’s never really put much thought into his appearance, because it doesn’t matter. it’s not important to his job. and therefore, not important to him.

no, his “eye bags that are dark enough to scare unsuspecting women away” and “spiky hair that resembles a morningstar more than a hairstyle” are only a problem to oikawa, not iwaizumi.

it’s what’s been keeping him awake, that is the real problem. every time iwaizumi has managed to fall asleep lately, his dreams are all the same.

he’s on a ship. a large, old ship that creeks under the weight of the massive waves crashing against its ribs. at first glance, there appears to be no one around. no one in the crows nest, no one at the helm steering. he is lost at sea, a steel knight glimmering like a star amongst the entire solar system, with no one but himself to keep him afloat.

there’s a storm on the horizon. a crackling, monstrous thing with clouds that look like jaws ready to swallow him whole, and the boat is headed with utmost certainty straight into its mouth. he has a distinct urge to run, a bubble of panic in his chest subdued by a wave of insanity.

you can’t run from a sinking ship.

when it happens, it happens the same every time. the boat lurches, tips on the edge of oblivion slowly as if taunting him, making sure he has time to process what he can’t change. then, with a crash and the unforgiving grip of the icy cold water, he sinks.

iwaizumi has never swam before.

there is no method to his panic, he flails and kicks and tries to reach the surface he can’t see, but he fails.

he’s drowning.

except, there’s a beacon of light, a saving grace to his drowning. there’s a hand. a soft, delicate hand that he somehow feels he is familiar with, but he can’t place it. he reaches out and grabs the hand, and it is shockingly warm against the biting cold of the sea, and then he sees you.

it’s your hand that he holds to keep himself from sinking further. you are his beacon of light, on this rocking ship he sails on. you are his saviour, the only thing keeping him from sinking into his own mind and never coming out.

you are both sinking.

as much as he wills it, his hand won’t let go of yours. he drags the both of you, down, down, down, into somewhere he doesn’t know there is an end to. his hand feels like stone against yours, it feels as if he’s been holding you for weeks without letting go, the muscles tensed and unwilling to release.

you both sink, and he screams soundlessly with bubbles pouring out of his mouth, and you smile at him sadly.

if he could, he’d cut off his own hand to free you.

just as the dream starts getting darker, as his suffocating panic makes it seem like he’s actually drowning, waking himself up, he hears you.

you whisper his name to him and it mysteriously travels through the thick water to his ears, maybe straight into his heart.

“hajime,”

your face is the picture of elegance, even at a time like this, and it’s so like you it hurts him. even when you’re drowning, you are the perfect princess.

“you need to let me go.”

~

he wakes with a gasp, as he has for the fourth time this week.

his room is bathed in moonlight, showering his bed and himself in a deep blue that sickeningly reminds him of his dream. waves clawing at his skin, your soft, tender hand trapped in his, screaming and bubbles and your words in his head, you need to let me go, you need to let me go, you need to let me go-

he breathes in a deep breath, holds it for five seconds, and then slowly lets it out through his nose.

his clammy skin sticks to his sheets, and he’s panting from the amount of adrenaline one gets from drowning, his body trying to fight something that’s not real.

it’s not real. even when he reminds himself, he feels this enormous guilt destroying him from the inside out.

he couldn’t let you go.

even in his hypothetical dream world, where neither of you even exist, he still couldn’t let you go.

~

you’ve had a shitty day.

it was your least favourite schedule of the week. you started with table etiquette training in the dining room, going over things you’ve heard thousands of times before. so many times, you imagine a blade on the inside of your skull drawing the words into your skin. “this knife here and this spoon here”, “fold your napkin as so”, “don’t let your silverware scrape against the plate dear that’s awful-“

you’re currently trying not to let your head fall with three books balanced on you, an “etiquette officer” as you’d so fondly named them (only in the privacy of your own mind, of course) to your right telling you all the things you’re doing wrong.

because that’s what being a princess is all about; all the things you’re doing wrong.

the only thing getting you through this for the millionth time is that in today’s particular schedule, you have some free time to yourself at the end of your training. a rare occurrence that whenever it happens, you seize the opportunity with both hands and don’t let go.

you know exactly what you’re going to do with you’re free time.

“alright, that’s all for today, princess.” the title sounds mocking when pared with the indifferent and slightly peeved sounding voice of your instructor. somehow she always finds a way to make it seem like you’ve failed, and you wonder how she manages it so spectacularly.

you (with elegance and poise, of course) jump out of your seat and try your best to not look like you’re running for the exit of the dining room, but you probably fail at that, too.

there’s one thing that’s been keeping you going all day. a certain gruff, brunette, knight-shaped thing.

when you make it down through large glass doors and into the courtyard, you instantly spot him sparring with another knight, oikawa tooru, your eyes magnetized to the metal of his armour.

“princess!” it’s not your brunette knight that calls to you, but rather a lanky boy with soft pink hair.

hanamaki takahiro, with matsukawa issei bringing up the rear.

you can’t say you’re extremely familiar with most of the knights on the kings guard, the exception being iwaizumi of course and the few others who were assigned your personal guards. your lives were too different to cross paths enough for familiarity, your days filled with things so different from each other they probably aren’t even comparable at all.

of course, you always be sure to learn their names, treating them with the same respect you would any other resident of the castle. you wouldn’t let yourself be like those other snooty royals, thinking themselves above chatter with common folk who don’t know the difference between a salad fork and a regular one.

in fact, you might have more respect for them because they don’t, you envy them a bit for it.

“all done with princess duties for today?” it’s matsukawa’s lazy drawl that reaches you now, his large frame looming over you and blocking part of the sun from reaching you, and yet, you don’t feel intimidated.

you feel at ease with the knights most out of everyone in the castle. for some reason, you feel like they expect the least from you. and maybe it should offend you, but all it does is lift an imaginary weight from your shoulders. with them, you can almost pretend you aren’t who you are.

“yes, all done with princess duties. ive come to collect iwaizumi from his knight duties.”

“good, he looks like he’s on his last legs fighting off oikawa over there.” hanamaki says, and you suddenly feel worry spike your stomach.

“has something happened?” you can’t help the desperate tone of your voice, and try to peer around hanamakis shoulder to see if you can notice any injuries on your knight.

“nah, oikawa said something about him not sleeping well though. figured he can use a break before he runs himself into the ground.” and all at one you feel relieved, and guilty for not noticing he was having problems sooner.

the problem with iwaizumi is he’s just so damn stoic all the time. the true image of a perfect knight, an unshakable force. it’s hard to tell when he’s suffering, because he never shows it outwardly. he keeps a solid wall of sureness on for everyone else’s benefit and doesn’t let it crumble for his own.

sometimes you wish you could take a couple of bricks down though, and peek through.

suddenly, the object of your thoughts is walking up behind the two knights you’re speaking to, with oikawa at his side. instantly you see what hanamaki was talking about.

he’s panting heavily from his training, clearly physically spent, but there’s something else you notice. there’s a deep exhaustion in the set of his face, his eyebrows tented over his eyes that have dark circles underneath. he looks troubled. on anyone else it might look like worry, but the way he masks his face into almost neutrality, you can’t be sure.

“you two aren’t bothering her, are you?”

he’s now flanking your side, and you realize that he’s not really speaking to hanamaki or matsukawa, he’s speaking to you, a questioning and probing look on his face.

“you have so little faith in us, it hurts.” matsukawa fakes a pained expression, his voice sounding unbothered despite his words.

“we were just telling her to take your tired ass out of here before oikawa beats you and we all have to listen to him brag for the next three weeks.” oikawa squawks behind hanamaki at his words, and you hear something like “sore looser” and “i would never”.

the display of familiarity makes you smile. at least here, the infectious greed of the castle doesn’t reach. there is no need for fake smiles and even faker words between comrades fighting for the same purpose. there’s no hierarchy among the knights, just simple companionship that ties them together like brothers.

you envy them immensely.

“i beat him, so you don’t have to worry about it.” and you hear more grumbles from oikawa.

iwaizumi suddenly turns fully to you, blocking your view of the other knights with his stupidly broad shoulders.

“where to, princess?” and he smiles at you, but not the kind of smile you see frequently in the castle. instead of the glint of unnaturally white teeth and squinted, condescending eyes, his smile is something that brightens his whole face. it’s something easy, something genuine and happy and it makes you feel like you’ve just put on your favourite sweater, his infectious warmth spreading over you like melted honey.

iwaizumi has always had that affect on you. he’s just so secure in himself, so sure of his protection over you that you can’t help but be calmed by his presence. it’s a welcome security that you don’t get much of these days, something that eases over your worries like soothing water on a roaring flame. something that you indulge in greedily, even though you know you shouldn’t.

“do you even have to ask?”

~

you had few places on the castle grounds that you truly felt at peace in, places where you didn’t feel the lingering gaze of spectators on you peeling back your skin and poking around at your insides. most of the castle felt like a forest to you, with predators stalking through the trees where you couldn’t see them. people who expected greatness from you at all times, so you could never let your guard down.

located behind the castle, is a quaint stone building with stalls staggered along the side of it. a large, green paddock juts out from the stalls, where the horses are let out occasionally to graze; the stables. one place where you could truly feel at ease in.

the stable hands hardly raise a brow at your and iwaizumi’s presence. ever since you were a little girl and the king introduced you to your first pony, it was hard to keep you away from the place. any second of free time you were granted was most definitely spent around the horses, if not on horseback.

you can never tell if iwaizumi minds you dragging him here all the time. he always just says “lead the way” with that calming look on his face and follows you on the familiar trek like a shepherd protecting a lamb. giving you a leg up onto your horse and then mounting his own.

there’s a long trail that circles the back of the castle, mostly used to exercise the horses to keep them fit while they werent transporting goods or being used by the knights. the trail cuts through a small, lush forest that pushes back against the town boarder, where a large stone fence separates you from your people.

you never understood why there was a fence in the first place when you were younger. every time you’d asked your father you’d be left even more confused than before.

“because, child.” he’d have you sat on his knee, sitting atop a throne that would one day be yours. “if you never stop giving, people never stop taking.”

the words had puzzled you then. what was your duty, if not to give?

now, as your age gave you knowledge you didn’t necessarily want, you understand his words. you understand, but you’ll never agree.

~

the trail is quiet at this time of day, the sun shining through splits in the trees and decorating the path in glimmering strips.

normally you and iwaizumi don’t talk much during your trail rides, and you enjoy the reprieve of the constant conversation you have during your time at the castle. with your knight, you don’t have to sweeten your presence with words. you don’t have to make yourself tolerable by striking up hallow conversations and smiling fakely.

right now though, there’s a question burning a hole through your throat and threatening to jump out of your mouth. with anyone else, you’d keep it to yourself. you’d swallow your thoughts down into the pit of your stomach where they’d make a knot that you wouldn’t be able to untie. keeping up appearances is more important than silly questions.

with him though, it’s different. his presence tugs at your mind like no one else. pulls the thoughts from you before you even know you’ve had them. you want to spill yourself to him, make yourself easy to read and drop your facade like a mask at a masquerade party.

and so, you do.

“iwaizumi, do you ever wonder about what you would do if you weren’t a knight?” the question sounds silly coming out of your mouth, and the pessimist inside you half expects him to tell you to “stop thinking so much, princess”, but he doesn’t.

instead, he tilts his head back slightly, humming to let you know he’s thinking up and answer for you. you look up too, wanting to see what he’s looking at. wanting to see the world through his eyes, maybe even wanting to sink into his mind and let his thoughts carry you away.

all you see is the sky. a brilliant blue with clouds partially obscured by the tips of the trees lining the path. you wonder what he sees it as. does that cloud also look like a crown to him? does it also strike nausea into his stomach and make him want to gallop away on his horse?

definitely not. your shoulders sink back down from where they’d hiked up to your ears at the thought. your knight is strong, and level headed, you can’t ever see him running away from anything.

when you tear your eyes away from the sky and look to iwaizumi, you’re startled to find he’s already looking at you.

the look on his face is something that strikes you as unique to him only. something that makes you think of being a little girl again, sneaking off to the gardens and making your young knight find you among the greenery. it makes you think of the word goodnight whispered to you almost every evening, it makes you think of the smell of pine and a soft breeze and fresh linen, and it makes you think “what if” for the millionth time.

“no, princess.”

it’s a look of understanding, of looking at you and not through you, something that fills you with melancholy and hope and the bitter taste of freedom you can’t have, you will never have.

“i was meant to be your knight.”

~