#matsukawa issei one shot

[yanderecrazysie]

Shadow (Yandere Matsukawa)

Requested on my Wattpad.

I was surprised to get a request for Matsukawa, so I hope I did him justice. Another drabble.

Title: Shadow

Pairings: Matsukawa Issei x Reader

WARNINGS: Yandere themes, implied murder

Summary: The frequenter of the coffee shop you work at is a lot closer than you think.

shadow

/noun/

used in reference to proximity, ominous oppressiveness, or sadness and gloom:

The way you smiled politely at him when he paid for his coffee always melted his heart, even if his face remained stoic.

Everything you did seemed to make his heart flutter. From the way you bustled around the shop, cleaning, to the way you picked at your nails while waiting for someone to come to your register at the dead times of day.

The shop was a warm, cozy place, but that’s not why Matsukawa visited it so often. He settled himself into a booth seat with a clear view of the rest of the cafe for one reason and one reason only.

To see you.

Matsukawa set up his laptop in the corner booth, taking a sip from his white styrofoam cup. The coffee was good, he’d discovered that much on the day he met you, but maybe that’s because you’re the one who made it.

He remembered the day you two met like it was yesterday, although it had been many weeks since then.

He had come in for a simple coffee with old friends from high school. Oikawa had led the way through those glass doors, the tinkle of a bell alerting the servers inside to their presence. It was rush hour, so a line snaked its way nearly to the doors.

Oikawa was quick to flirt with the servers, but as soon as Matsukawa saw you, he suddenly wished his outgoing friend would shut his mouth for once. It was love at first sight, he was sure of that much. 

He was sure you’d fall for Oikawa’s irresistible charm, just as every other girl did, but you surprised him. When you heard his flirtatious lines, you smiled politely and turned him down. Iwaizumi wasn’t the most impressed one this time around.

Matsukawa would never- could never- approach you. He didn’t have the charm Oikawa did, even if you were more into tall, quiet, mysterious men. He didn’t have the confidence to be your boyfriend.

Maybe that’s why he always followed you to and from work. You were so oblivious to it, he couldn’t help it. It made him worry what else you were oblivious to, especially considering you walked home in the dark.

You occasionally took a shortcut through an alley, but this was the first time something went wrong. One of the homeless men warming his hands over a trash can fire made a pass at you, tried to grab your ass as you walked by.

You ran down the alley, tears running down your face. What was Matsukawa supposed to do?

Thank goodness you didn’t notice the splash of blood on the shirt of the man walking behind you.

[captain-hawks]

IS IT CASUAL NOW?

issei matsukawa x f!reader

Casually asking your werewolf roommate to put his scent on you to ward off creeps is...well. It's platonic, until it's not.

wc: 2k tags: 18+ only, werewolf!matsukawa, roommates to lovers speed run, dry humping, mattsun's big dick, werewolf scenting -> 2k event

“Matsukawa.”

Your roommate looks up from where he’s idly scrolling through his phone on the couch, eyes widening a fraction once he sees your outfit. 

Self-consciously, you tug at the hem of the short dress, steeling yourself to ask the question that’s been idling in your mind all afternoon. “I’m supposed to be going to The Black Crow tonight for my friend’s birthday—”

“My condolences,” he cuts in, face blanching slightly as he puts his phone down on the coffee table. 

Sighing, you nod. “Yeah, it wasn’t my first pick either. But anyway, I kind of wanted to ask you for a favor.”

He winces. “Please don’t tell me your friend is still trying to get you to hook her up with me.”

It’s embarrassing how relieved you were when he shot that down months ago—not that you’d ever tell him that. 

You shake your head, snorting. “No, definitely not. I just…I want to have a good time without having to deal with the weirdos that always hang around there. And one of the girls in my lit class the other day was talking about how nice it is to have a were boyfriend, because she’s always scented when she goes out now. Nobody bothers her.”

Matsukawa waits patiently for you to continue.

“SoIwasmaybewonderingifyou’dscentmebeforeIleave.”

He blinks.

“As a friend,” you add, for good measure, to punctuate your mortifying word vomit. 

He blinks again, lips parting.

Heart pounding with embarrassment, you turn on your heel and squeak out, “God, I knew that was going to be weird. Forget I said anything please and thanks. Bye!”

“Wait.”

You’re stopped by a hand loosely wrapping its way around your wrist, Matsukawa leaning forward off of the couch cushions. 

Soul three-quarters into its journey of leaving your body, you slowly turn to face him once more.

“I don’t mind. I just want to make sure you know what you’re asking for.” 

There’s something slightly odd that wavers in his voice when he says it, his throat bobbing as he swallows. 

“You just have to like, hold me for a little bit, right?”

He looks up at the ceiling before returning his gaze to you. “Yeah, uh. It’s not that. You’re a human, so it might not affect you in the same way. But it’s…scenting is very intimate for my kind. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable, if it ends up being too much.”

Crossing your arms, you furrow your brow. “We’ve been friends for like, eight years, Mattsun. We’ve hugged plenty of times. I’ll be fine.”

Scratching the back of his head, he nods, gesturing for you to come and sit next to him on the couch. “Just tell me if you want me to stop, okay?”

He puts an arm around you, his skin warm against your bare shoulders. Your heart knocks against your ribcage at his proximity, as it always has, but that’s a secret you’ll keep firmly locked behind your teeth. You asked Matsukawa to do this because you trust him, nothing more. 

Slowly, gentle notes of pine begin to settle over you, drifting and settling like delicate needles atop freshly fallen snow. 

It’s subtle, but something inside of you stirs all the same, rising like dust motes in a cracked window’s breeze.

Your skin prickles.

Your toes curl. 

Matsukawa leans in, his nose pressed to the side of your neck, and like a carefully twisting dial, the smell is amplified. A sweet, herbal scent dances across your nostrils, tickling the back of your throat—lavender. A field of purple flowers sways delicately in the wind, and you feel warm all over.

Your tongue rests heavily in your mouth.

“Is this okay?” he asks, lips moving against your neck as he speaks.

Your ribcage shudders beneath the weight of what’s blooming behind it, a trellis for the edges of your fragile heartstrings. 

You nod.

Matsukawa inhales and begins to drag his nose down the side of your neck, the day-old stubble on his cheeks tickling your skin as he rubs his face against it.

Lemon. The clean scent of lemon trickles in, buried beneath the pine and lavender. You want to tip your head back and part your lips, feel drops of sour juice sink onto your tongue. 

(You want Matsukawa to grasp your chin, to slip his thumb into your mouth and hold your tongue there as you inhale—)

Your fingers dig into the couch cushions.

You swallow. 

Matsukawa’s wavy black hair is soft against your face as he moves to the base of your throat. And it’s funny, because you know the eucalyptus scent of his shampoo like the back of your hand, can picture the brown bottle where it sits nestled between your shaving cream and body wash.

But right now, while you specifically remember the sight of his dripping wet hair this morning when he walked into the kitchen after showering, right now—

You can’t smell it at all.

Not over the all-consuming scents that permeate you from head to toe. 

“Oh,” you gasp, unable to hold back the noise that slips out of you, gut churning at the sensation as his lips skirt your collarbone.

He pauses, slowly going to pull away, and before you can think better of it, you thread your fingers in his hair.

“No, no,” you exhale, a little dazed. “It’s fine, it’s…keep going.”

He’s still for a moment.

“Please,” you add.

Matsukawa breathes out, his breath hot and damp against your sternum, and you roll your shoulders.

Pine and lavender and lemon and heat—

“I should move to your other side to get the rest—”

You shift, not waiting for him to finish his sentence as you start to throw a leg over his lap, your body acting before your mind can fully contemplate the action. Matsukawa grunts, and the room sways as strong hands grip your waist, pulling you fully into his lap in one swift movement. Your dress is rucked up enough to allow your thighs to spread wide, and you try not to think about the way your panties are now on clear display. 

Forehead falling against his, you’re both quiet, save for the sounds of your breathing.

“Okay?” he asks, voice a little rough.

“Yeah.”

Matsukawa leans back in, bringing his face to the other side of your neck that he’s yet to rub his scent on. It’s more difficult to mask how affected you are by this, now that you’re straddling his lap. Your mind floats untethered in a lush forest, and you unconsciously press closer.

Something rumbles in Matsukawa’s chest, and the hand that’s still curled around your hip flexes, thumb pressing into your hipbone. His free hand slides up to the back of your neck, fingers slipping through the hair at your nape. 

Lush lavender interspersed with pine needles.

Matsukawa’s face strays a haphazard path as he scents his way across all of the exposed skin he can reach, his breathing going a bit ragged. 

Lemons and tall trees and a soft forest floor.

You tilt your head to the side, and he buries his face in the tender juncture between your shoulder and neck.

“Matsukawa,” you exhale. 

Matsukawa shifts, and teeth graze your skin.

You’re on the verge of combusting. 

“Issei, please.”

It was an accident, the slip of his name. But Matsukawa just shudders beneath you, one hand cupping the side of your face. “I can stop, if you want.”

He misunderstood.

And you’ve slipped so deeply into the cradle of his lap, his erection now lies flush against your cotton panties.

“No,” you whisper. “No, I don’t want you to stop.”

“Why?” he rasps. 

Your lips move of their own volition, “It feels so good.”

He growls, but the sound is somehow soft. It goes right to the simmering heat between your legs all the same. “Yeah?”

You nod, inhaling slowly as you run a hand over your sternum, body arching into his. 

“Then enjoy it,” he murmurs, both hands now on your hips.

He breathes hot and heavy against your shoulder, and you card your fingers through his black hair. Giving in to the urge, you tug, just a little. Just hard enough for him to—

“Hah—” he exhales, tongue sliding in a firm, broad stroke over the low neckline of your dress, skirting the swell of your breasts. 

Matsukawa rocks his hips upward, fingers pressing into your skin, and you gasp at the friction of his hard cock against your swollen clit. You belatedly realize just how wet your panties are, the material now soaked through with sticky arousal as it clings to your sopping folds. 

“You have no idea,” he grounds out. “How good you smell.”

“Me?” you ask, breathless. You thought scents were strictly a werewolf thing. 

He nods, dragging his nose from the hollow of your throat to the sensitive spot behind your earlobe. “Humans can't smell themselves, but wolves can.”

He inhales deeply.

“Salt water and oranges,” he groans.

Your chest flutters at this new information, and he nips at your earlobe.

“But when you’re—” He groans, rocking his cock against your clothed cunt again. “When you’re like this…”

In any other situation, you might be mortified over what he’s implying. But right now, all you can do is whimper as he places a hot, open-mouthed kiss over the corner of your jaw and tells you how you smell when you’re aroused with a gravel-rough voice that will fucking haunt you until you die, probably. 

“It gets sweeter…like a peach,” Matsukawa murmurs. “Drives me fuckin’ crazy.”

Oh.

Your cunt aches as you dry hump his erection, mouth watering at the sheer length of it. When you look down, the back of your neck heats up as you see the dark stain on his gray sweatpants, your slick arousal having soaked clear through your underwear.

He must see you looking, because one of his hands slides to the small of your back to urge you to keep going as he murmurs, “I don’t mind.”

You gasp when he presses up into you harder, and the zap of pleasure that ricochets in your chest and settles in your gut leaves you dizzy with need. Shiny precum pools on his abdomen, the head of his cock flushed red as it pokes out from the waistband of his pants. 

“Issei, can you—” your chest heaves as you try to get the words out. “Will you ki—”

Matsukawa doesn’t let you finish, one large hand cupping the back of your head as he brings his mouth crashing into yours. He swallows down your gasp of surprise, the moan of pleasure that leaves you at the feeling of his plush lips slotted against your own. 

His stubble caresses your chin as his tongue skirts the seam of your mouth, beckoning your lips to part. Matsukawa deepens the kiss, his other hand wholly palming your ass while you drag yourself up and down his length. It’s possessive, the way he’s touching you now. Your entire body shudders and trembles with pleasure, your raw nerves alight as your composure slips with each thrust.

Pine and lavender and lemon and Issei, Issei, Issei—

You don’t realize you’re crying out his name until you feel him cup your face and start to murmur your own, his pupils blown wide with lust as he watches you come in his lap. 

When you can finally breathe again, you look down to find thick ropes of cum all over his t-shirt as he tugs up the waistband of his pants to cover his spent cock. 

Pine.

Lavender.

Lemon.

Issei.

He blinks a few times, dragging a hand through his hair before he stares at you, dazed.

Your phone vibrates on the coffee table, and there’s a banging noise at the front door, followed by the distant shout of one of your friends yelling, “Let’s paaaaaarty!”

But what the fuck just happened—

You glance between the door and Matsukawa, and he gives you a lopsided smile. “Go.”

Sighing, you start to pull yourself out of his lap, but a firm grip on your hip stops you. Matsukawa takes your chin between his thumb and pointer finger, pressing a soft kiss to your lips before he adds, “We’ll talk about this later.”

[torubeth]

the clock seemed to be moving really slowly for some reason and you despised it. your phone was boring now. all you wanted to do was sleep and cuddle with your boyfriend. but it’s been two hours since he last talked to you.

“okay! just cover me and i’ll clear this shit!” he yelled into his headphones.

he promised that it would be his last game at least 30 times now and still he wasn’t quite done.

“baby, do you wanna cuddle ?” you asked, giving it one more shot. you weren’t even sure if he’d heard you over all the yelling and music from his game.

“sorry, did you say something ?” he removed his headphones to try to understand you better.

guess he didn’t hear it after all, “nothing, you can continue” you smiled at him and gestured toward the computer. softly sighing, you slowly pulled the blanket up to your chin.

“okay that’s my cue, y’all have fun” he switched off the system without a proper goodbye and rushed over to the bed and fell on top of you.

slowly shifting under the covers, he wrapped his big beefy arms around your waist to pull you closer to him and whispered “of course i wanna cuddle with you”

suna rintarou, matsukawa issei, tooru oikawa, miya atsumu, eren jaeger, gojo satoru (bro i srsly can’t think of anyone else fuck my brain but honestly literally anyone you like; and warning : it’s not proofread oh lord :)

[cottonlemonade]

First Date

word count: 1027 || avg. reading time: 4 mins.

pairing: University AU!Matsukawa x chubby!Reader

genre: suggestive fluff

warnings: mdni

request: watching Goosebumps with pumpkin-spice popcorn, dressed as a shark with Issei || fluffy-spicy, watching a scary movie with crush Matsukawa

Issei had it all planned out.

Ask the hottest, most drool-worthy girl in his year on a date - check.

Make the invite something that wasn‘t downright romantic at first glance - going to see a horror movie - check.

Be casual about it - uhm…

And whatever the cost, do not seem desperate. Yeah. That one definitely needed some work.

But none of that mattered anymore because he sat down next to you in the movie theater, joining the many many other couples with people giving each other discreet head nods about the one collective plan - play the protector for your date.

30 minutes into the movie it all started to go according to plan. Nothing super scary had happened yet but he felt you lean further towards him as time went on. The first truly scary scene had you bury your face in his shoulder and, ever the suave knight in shining armor, Issei smoothly wrapped his arm around you for comfort. He was so distracted by watching you squirrel away the popcorn that he missed the straw a few times as he tried to take a sip of lemonade and during the next jumpscare that had the whole movie theater scream in surprise (he was definitely the loudest and highest) the lid of his soda cup popped off and the ice-cold liquid poured all over your shirt and jeans.

Fumbling for his jacket pocket he produced a very squished, lint-covered tissue packet, pulled one sheet out, and began dabbing, realizing a moment later where his hand was and what it was doing. His movements didn’t stop, but just kind of slowed.

“I‘m so sorry.“, he whisper-yelled and you simply shook your head, excusing yourself to the bathroom.

Issei felt like an idiot, a sentiment not entirely foreign to him from his time in high school.

As the movie went on he kept bouncing his leg and checking his watch. When you hadn‘t returned three and a half minutes later he jumped up and went to look for you, ready to grovel.

His apology speech began the moment he pushed open the door to the ladies‘ room and was met with an indignant yell of a middle aged woman who just fixed her hair in the mirror.

Bowing over and over he let her pass and then spotted you, standing by the sink, your shirt very much in your hands and not on your body, running it under the faucet.

You just stared at him, the only sound in the otherwise empty bathroom being the running water that you turned off a moment later.

“I am so sorry.“, he repeated, “The lid was probably not…“ He trailed off. You had turned to him to show you were listening and he didn‘t know where to look anymore. The pouch of your tummy in obvious need of lovingly blown raspberries, your love handles that called out to him to be grabbed, or your breasts, very much shimmering with water and residual soda in a pretty lace-trimmed bra. He forced himself to look in your eyes, lost his train of thought, and then focused on a spot somewhere a little south of your left ear lobe - also, he possibly stopped breathing altogether.

“Don‘t strain yourself.“, you scoffed teasingly.

After another look he met your eyes again and continued, “As I was saying, the lid was clearly not properly … lidded on the cup and yeah, I may or may not have squeezed the cup a little but I didn‘t mean to douse you in lemonade.“

“It‘s okay.“, you chuckled and turned back to the sink to take another shot at the bright yellow stain on the white shirt.

He stepped closer, genuinely trying to find a way to help but his eyes were instantly drawn to your boobs again and to his absolute horror, he swallowed - audibly - at the sight.

“Yes, Issei?“, you asked sweetly, obviously greatly enjoying his reactions.

“In my defense, they started it. - Sorry, ahem I meant- Let me help.“ He reached for the top in your hand and his forearm grazed your tummy, turning him effectively to goo and resulting in the shirt being dropped to the floor.

You clicked your tongue and went to pick it up. But when you straightened, your eyes were focused on his pants. He looked down and saw the very visible outline straining against his thigh.

You raised a brow, “Are you…?“

“How could I not be when I first touch and then see the world‘s softest boobs.“, he muttered, almost accusingly but definitely distraught, to your cleavage.

You tilted your head to catch his eyes and he noticed a mischievous glint now sparkling in your look under the fluorescent lights.

Maybe, just maybe, if he asked really nicely, he could offer to kiss the remaining soda drops off your skin. He extended his metaphorical feelers, trying to suss out the mood in the movie theater ladies‘ room. Then Oikawa‘s number one rule he had once mentioned when giving him unprompted dating tips came to his mind: Don‘t be a creep.

Issei figured that his humble request could possibly be construed as “creepy“ under the wrong circumstances.

Well, this and any other fantasy that shot through his mind as his eyes once again became transfixed by various parts of your body.

“Okay, time‘s up.“, you grinned as you pulled the still rather wet shirt back over your head, the fabric sticking unfairly to every curve, divot, and bulge.

You made one final attempt at drying off the now relatively clean shirt with a handful of paper towels, then turned to him.

“You coming?“

It was a truly unfortunate choice of words in his opinion.

“You go ahead, I have to uhm… take care of something.“

“This is still the ladies‘ room.“, you smirked.

“And unlike the men’s room, it smells like flowers! Now out, woman, I have things to do.“

With a loud cackle, you left the bathroom. Issei sighed and looked down at his problem, then jumped and shrieked a moment later when the door opened again and you poked your head inside, beaming at him with a wink, “Have fun~!“

art: @ppopporibb on Twitter

a/n: thank you to the anon for this request! I hope you had as much fun reading it as I had writing this silly idiot. 🌟

for requests see here

[cxvii666]

boyfriend txts w/ ten

FEATURING!

ATSUMU MIYA, takashiro hanumaki, eren yeager, issei matsukawa, KEIGO TAKAMI, kenma kozume, DENKI KAMINARI, yuji itadori, NATSUO TODOROKI, takuma ino, HANTA SERO, CONNIE SPRINGER, tetsuro kuroo, yuu nishinoya, + ur faves ofc

sorry guys suffering from severe writers block or not even writers blovk i cant finish anything i start writing like i only ever have yhe beginning of an idea LIKE AHHHGGGGG and then i write what i think is gonna be a good one shot and its only 800> my eye is FUCKING TWITCHING but YAH the incoming 'boyfriend texts' courtesy of my long distance situationship who lowk im still in love with 😵👎🏾‼️

[luvnami]

ai's kinktober 2024 ୭ ˚. ᵎᵎ

a collection of suggestive drabbles. get hard, get wet, and get filthy this coming october ɞ some pieces contain dc content, please read cw for each post carefully ɞ comment to be added to taglist (specify fandom) ɞ masterlist under the cut / ageless/mdni (18+), i will block

haikyuu ᵎᵎ

ɞ need a hand? | handjobs / suna rintarou, matsukawa issei, ushijima wakatoshi x fem! reader / drabbles ɞ he's your ex for a reason | creampie / suna rintarou x fem!reader / one-shot

ɞ gang leaders kita shinsuke (childhood friend and unrequited love) and ushijima wakatoshi (highschool sweetheart and fiance) butt heads in a bar when you're on date night. luckily, you're agreeable when ushijima wants teach his rival a lesson in fucking ɞ your boyfriend, hanamaki takahiro, invites you over for a movie night with his best friend. hanamaki convinces you that matsukawa's asleep, really, just trust him, so please just let him fuck you under the sheets, okay?

demon slayer ᵎᵎ

ɞ hey, chat? | streamer/under-desk blowjob / shinazugawa sanemi x fem!reader / one-shot

ɞ biker tomioka giyuu finds you stranded on the roadside when your car breaks down. thankfully, he lets you hitch a ride to the nearest motel. you know how to pay him back for his kindness, right?

jujutsu kaisen ᵎᵎ

ɞ fushiguro toji loves a quickie. when he realises he might love you more than that one morning, he takes it slow and tender for the first time ever ɞ nanami kento comes home and finds you asleep in your underwear. he takes one look at your bare skin and can't help himself. it's not his fault, he swears, so just let him use you till he's satisfied

[teamatsumu]

kinktober 2023 -> day 7

orgasm denial - matsukawa issei x reader

word count: 873

warnings: regular smut warnings, daddy kink mentioned, slight degradation, swearing

kinktober masterlist

You knew you deserved this. You had been teasing him all night after all. In some capacity, you were even looking forward to it. It had been a long time since you had acted out enough that it warranted a punishment from Issei. And now you realized that time had probably dulled things in your head. Because you had forgotten just how brutal Issei’s punishments could be. 

Two hours. It had been two hours of what felt like every emotion and sensation known to mankind coursing through your veins. You had been touched subtly, sweetly, like a ghost whispering against your skin, enough to make you shiver and get riled up, enough to make your nerves buzz in excitement. And you had also been touched roughly, hard, strong hands spanking and slapping at sensitive skin, nails scratching and fingers fucking so hard and fast into you that you had lost all semblance of sanity.

At this point, your vision was swimming. Partly from your tears, and partly from your head being pressed so hard into the mattress that it left you cross-eyed. Your ass was propped up in the air by his other hand, the one not holding your head down, but instead holding your hips up with a grip so bruising you were sure it would leave deep purple marks on you tomorrow morning. But fuck, you couldn’t bring yourself to care about the next morning. You could only focus on one thing, and that was your weeping pussy stretched out over your boyfriend’s huge cock, drilled into submission and with no signs of stopping.

“I-Issei-” You gasped when he hit a particularly deep spot, another tear escaping from your eye and running over the bridge of your nose, only to fall on the sheets under your head. “Issei, plea-”

“No.” Came the nonchalant reply.

Your face scrunched up in disappointment, fingers twisting around the sheets as you laid still, taking the pounding you were getting like a good girl. You wanted, no needed, to cum so bad, but you couldn’t. Not until Issei allowed you to. You knew what would happen if you came without his permission. If this was already messing you up so bad, you couldn’t even imagine what he would do to you if you came without his approval.

You let yourself cry and moan as Issei kept fucking you slow and hard into the mattress, trying not to focus on how fucking good he felt or how close to the edge you were. You sighed when he draped himself over your back, his bare body providing such a welcome feeling against your shot nerves. He hummed into your shoulder, laying a soft kiss on the skin, such a stark contrast to the absolute havoc he was wreaking below your pelvis. 

“Issei…” You tried again, clenching around him. You were so overstimulated, you just had to beg. You knew from experience that it wouldn’t be long until you couldn’t hold back anymore, not if Issei continued to shove his cock into you at the same pace. 

“Stop asking, baby.” Came his reply, voice raspy against your ear, his breath hitting your skin enough to make you shiver. He thrusted hard and held himself there for a few seconds, letting you appreciate how wonderfully he stretched you out. Your jaw went slack.

“You know you don’t deserve to cum.” He continued, the hand on your head now tangling in your hair, tugging just a bit. “Not after that show you put on in front of my friends. You think they couldn’t tell that you were just tryna rile me up? They’re not stupid, you know? And neither am I.”

“‘M sorry.” You whimpered, barely forming coherent thoughts, but feeling fresh tears prick your eyes regardless. “‘M sorry, daddy. I was just-”

“Being a brat? Wanting attention? Acting like a whore?” His words didn’t sting, in fact they turned you on more and made you tighten around him, and you heard his sharp intake of breath.

“You don’t get anything tonight, babygirl.” He concluded, one hand slipping between your body and the bed to pat at your clit, making you yelp. You were so sensitive, even the slightest touch sent you spiraling. “Tonight, you’re gonna let daddy use your whore body for himself, and if I feel like you deserve to cum after that-” He disengaged from your body and straightened, hands gripping your hips in preparation, “then maybe I will consider it.”

Then, he began fucking you in earnest, pounding your limp body into the bed, reveling in the sounds of your mumbled ‘thank you’s, grateful just at the thought that maybe he would let you cum. He couldn’t help the little smirk that spread on his face at the sound, the notion that even his consideration for letting you cum sent you into a mumbled mess of grateful words, his cock throbbing inside your tight little cunt.

He had trained you well.

Taglist:

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

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

[seoulmatez]

— 𝒸𝑜𝓏𝓎 𝒸𝓊𝒹𝒹𝓁𝑒𝓈 ౨ৎ

🦚 anon request: "making the house as cozy as possible before they come home" with matsukawa. you can request for my event here!

matsukawa issei x reader. 0.8k wc. ﾉ sfw ﾉ fluff ﾉ shirless mattsun. . . heh :3

Today has not been your day. Not by a long shot.

First, coffee splashed on your shirt before you even made it in the door to work—an accident that the owner of the unlidded beverage apologized profusely for. You think you could have brushed that off if it wasn’t followed so closely by an impromptu meeting that dragged on for an unreasonable amount of time. It left you racing to finish all the other tasks you were meant to complete today, tasks that should have been a breeze if your time had been budgeted accordingly—which it had been before that stupid meeting. 

By the time you’re finally able to clock out, the weight of eight stressful hours is heavy on your shoulders and makes your walk to the train feel twice as long as it really is. You find being squished between countless other bodies in the passenger car more unpleasant than you usually would but the upside is that you’re almost home—away from all of the bothersome inconveniences of the day, free to do as you please.

As you unlock the front door, thoughts of collapsing on your bed until you’re either too exhausted to stay awake any longer or your stomach growls in a noisy request for food are the only ones that swirl through your head. You’re quick to kick off your shoes and hastily hang up your bag when you cross the threshold into your apartment.

Your plan to make a beeline to your bed is put on hold after taking only a few steps in the direction of your room. You were so preoccupied with shedding the worst parts of your day at the door that you hadn’t taken notice of the oddities in the apartment—the scent of vanilla that only ever permeates the room when you take the time to light a candle, the unusual darkness you avoid coming home to by opening the curtains before you leave.

Your eyebrows pull together in a confused frown as you slowly approach the living room. The space that’s typically untouched when you return from work is anything but that. There are blankets messily strewn over the cushions of the couch and, despite the room being empty, the tv shines brightly in the otherwise dark area—one of many streaming service home tabs displayed on the large screen.

Before you can question any of the scene, a voice speaks up from beside you.

“Damn, you beat me out here.” You don’t have to look to tell that it’s Matsukawa—who else would it be? Still, you turn to face him anyway and are met with his large figure. There’s a goofy yet endearing smile on his face like he’s been caught in the act. The rest of his appearance contrasts that of his face—curls damp enough that water continues to bead at the ends, sweatpants low enough that you’re allowed a peek of his v-line. He must have just gotten out of the shower.

“You set all this up?” It’s a silly question that you already know the answer to but you can’t help but gesture to the cozy environment he created.

“Surprised?” he asks, and the smile tugging at his lips turns from goofy to proud.

“A little,” you admit with a nod, but you smile too. He did all of this for you. “I honestly thought you’d be asleep when I strolled in.”

Mattsun huffs out a laugh through his nose before putting his hands—still warm from the shower—on your shoulders and leading you to the couch. He sits you down and takes his place next to you, adjusting the fluffy blankets as he speaks. “How could I sleep knowing you had such a shitty day?”

You didn’t expect that your complaining to Issei throughout the day would lead to such a sweet gesture. It almost makes you feel guilty. “It wasn’t that bad…”

“That’s not the impression all of your texts gave.”

If you went through your message log right now, you’d probably find that the man was right.

“Fine, it was pretty bad,” you concede. But you don’t want to dwell on the negatives, not when Mattsun went out of his way to make sure you came home to something that was sure to cheer you up. You lay your head on his shoulder with a content sigh. “It’s better now, though.”

He’s warm, like a human heater—all the comfort you need bundled up in one person. Your person.

“Good.” Issei gives you a squeeze that you’re sure is meant to be a hug and leans down to place a sloppy kiss on your forehead. “Movie pick is up to you. And I can cook you something if you’re hungry.”

While the offer itself is kind, you can’t help but pull away and level the man with a questioning look. You and he both know that his skills in the kitchen are less than average. 

Without you even uttering a word, Issei chuckles in understanding. “Takeout?”

You nod. “Takeout.”

thanks for reading! if u enjoyed, please consider reblogging or commenting ❤︎

[nectardaddy]

what's your favorite scary movie? | matsukawa issei

cw/notes: lots of sexual humor, language, they're watching scream idc (quotes in bold are taken directly from the og Scream), scream isn't that scary but let's just pretend it is, I was wheezing while writing this, thank you @mollyrolls (GO READ STOP THE CLOCK MOLLY IS COOKING), and "gothic frat boy mattsun" for the brainrot for this man, probably wildly ooc (borderline crack)

pairing: post timeskip!mattsun x fem!reader , written in second person (you, yours), previously established fwb/situationship

word count: 1.2k

It wasn't often you found yourself hunkered down in a mass of blankets on the couch, usually preferring to do so in the comfort of your own room. Cocooning yourself with your legs pulled up to your chest. It also wasn't common for you to watch a horror film - alone. A shot of adrenaline flowing through your veins at the thriller in front of you. Further setting the mood with lights shut off and a single candle lit on the coffee table. The television reflected off your face, deep reds, blues, and greens etching into features that were on edge. 

So deeply engrossed in the movie your brain shut out everything else, eyes transfixed on the screen as you pulled the blanket a bit closer to yourself. But the sharp twang of your phone ringing made you jerk, letting out a small yelp at the sound as it tore you away from the suspense the movie gave. "Fuck-"

Letting out a small breath, you dropped your shoulders in relief as your eyes slid to your phone. Screen lit up with the name "Issei <3" across it, you picked it up and took another small breath before accepting the call. Leaving the movie to still play in the background, you put the phone up to your ear.

"I'm in your walls." His voice shone through with a laugh before you even managed to say hello.

"Whatever happened to hello? How are you?" Questioning as your eyes flickered back the television screen, multitasking as you spoke to him. Exchanging pleasantries, talking about your day, and listening to him ramble on about work. Not realizing the sound of the movie was up high enough for him to hear, you heard him let out a cackle at the movie.

" Listen here you little bitch, you hang up on me again and I'll gut you like a fish, understand? "

"Damn- I wish you would gut me like a fish."

You rolled your eyes at his comment, a small smile pulling at your lips nonetheless. "Shut up, Issei." But you couldn't help but chuckle regardless, biting back a smirk even though you knew he couldn't see it. "That doesn't even make sense."

“I miss you.” An off kilter comment from him that made you pause, tearing your eyes away from the screen and looking down. A situationship at its finest, you and Matsukawa; talking and spending time with one another so much that others thought you were together - not putting a label on it from a fear of commitment. So his words made your heart jump to your throat, a sinking feeling settling in that was worse than the movie that played in the background.

“I miss you too.”

“ What do you want? - To see what your insides look like. ” 

You heard him stifle a laugh, “same.” Whatever ‘moment’ you had, if you really wanted to call it that, was completely dashed. Rolling your eyes at his crudeness that you had become all too accustomed to. It wasn't unusual for the man to make such remarks, to the point where you believed it was simply in his dna. It was in his nature to be a loveable, sarcastic moron.

“Don’t make me regret saying I miss you, dumbass.” Though you couldn’t help but laugh at the comment as well, but before he could respond he heard an audible crash sound from your television, followed by you taking in a sharp inhale of air. Mumbling a small ‘shit’ under your breath that you hoped he didn't hear - he most certainly did.

“You're scared aren't you?” Asking through a shit eating grin, one you could hear through the phone. You closed your eyes and groaned. “You want me to come over?”

“Watching this was not an in for you to come over.”

“It is now,” he chuckled. “So can I?”

A scream echoed off the walls and rang through the living room. You flinched at the sudden sound and gripped the blanket you had wrapped around yourself in temporary fear. The volume turned up all too loud, you didn’t hear the knock at the door of your apartment. But you most definitely heard the door swing open; whipping your head around and breath catching in your throat at the sound. Letting out a scream before covering your mouth in embarrassment once your eyes locked with familiar brown ones. 

"What's your favorite scary movie?” A grin pulling at his lips, a mischievous one filled with debauchery, before he howled in laughter; closing your door behind him. 

“I should have never let you come over, dickhead.” You felt your heart rate drop, being that it skyrocketed just seconds before, and you let out a sigh. 

“Aw, don’t say that. You love it when I come over.” His sly grin never left his lips as he sat next to you, plopping himself down on the couch and slinging his arm around you. You tried to fight the smile that desperately wanted to show itself, ultimately losing as you looked over to him and rolled your eyes. 

“Unfortunately, I do.” You heard him sigh exasperatedly, moving his other hand to his heart. “You’re the pain in my ass I don’t think I have the heart to get rid of.”

“Damn, you really know how to hurt a man’s feelings.”

“Shut up and watch the movie.”

The next hour was spent with your eyes glued to the screen, flinching and gasping every so often at cheap jump scares from the older slasher film. Matsukawa simply couldn’t help himself in reveling in this, holding you closer to him and giving your arm a squeeze after every jump, after every sharp inhale - to him, it really couldn’t get better than this. Joining you amidst your barrage of blankets sometime within him sitting down; his arm still over you and your head rested on his shoulder. Occasionally, his eyes would flicker down to you. Catching your own eyes, to which you quickly averted back to the screen, only for him to smile.  

“ There's always some stupid bullshit reason to kill your girlfriend. ”

“I would never kill you, by the way.”

His comment made you pause a moment, taken aback by the implications. Never knowing if he was truly serious, always toeing the line of frivolity with every word spoken, you simply brushed it off with a chuckle. “Oh wow, thanks, Issei, I was getting worried for a second.” Matching the energy he gave to you with a smile; to which he turned to you, looking over your features before humming. “Does that make me your girlfriend?” The question slipped from your lips before the thought registered in your mind. Internally kicking yourself for asking something so stupid, and outwardly looking down in mortification.

Another pause. One that lasted a bit too long, your heart sinking into your stomach from dread, thinking you said the wrong thing. Looking down at the fuzzy blanket you had draped around you and grasping it into a fist as unease consumed you. 

“Only if you promise not to become one of those girlfriends that leaves their boyfriend to die in horror movies.” 

You looked up at him once more, confusion written on your face that swiftly turned as you chuckled. A silly smile on his lips that was nothing but caring, a juxtaposition to his normal smirk. “Yeah, I guess I can do that.”

Honorable mentions that I couldn't fit in:

“ Number one: you can never have sex. ”

“Well I guess we're fucked.”

“ Number two: you can never drink or do drugs. ”

“Double fucked.”

banner by @/editsnocturne , divider by @/cold--carnage

[maybe-a-dinosaur]

oikawa tooru big fan of puzzles. thinking about how dedicated he is to his craft like he works so hard to be good at what he does he opens a puzzle and locks tf in. pieces scattered across the table his formula is corners first then all the edges he builds the frame then he starts at the bottom and works up. if any of the pieces come stuck together he breaks them apart immediately and mixes them in he does not take shortcuts he likes a challenge. they completely consume him like hyperfocus to the max once he starts he can’t stop glasses on hunched over the table puzzling away. he generally doesn’t keep them once he’s finished he lets it sit for a bit takes a picture for his records then disassembly begins with little to no fanfare he doesn’t really need people to know (unless it’s a BIG puzzle then it goes on his instagram story) it’s just something he does for him he can focus for a while it gives him a sense of accomplishment and he stretches really well afterward. his favorites are pictures of places like scenic shots of nature or cities and puzzles of famous artworks like monet or van gogh or hokusai but if a puzzle comes into his possession he’s doing it at some point no matter what the picture is.

hanamaki takahiro never finished puzzles. he likes them in theory and is super excited to start them but gets bored or distracted within an hour and walks away. he works on them intermittently for a week or so while they sit and collect dust and are inevitably put away before they get finished. his attention span just isn’t long enough anything more than 50 pieces isn’t getting done. the only ones he ever finishes are the 3d like moving puzzles with the ridged pieces the ones that hurt to look at they’re usually less pieces and he likes the texture and they’re stupid pictures he completes them and picks them up of the table then crumples them apart. he really likes the idea of puzzles just doesn’t usually like them in practice, they’re too time consuming need too much focus and he’s a busy man with too much other shit to get into.

matsukawa issei is not a fan of puzzles. like he’ll help put together a piece or two if someone else is working on one but will never go out of his way to assemble a puzzle like he doesn’t care they’re not his thing he’s bored already. however he is a big fan of brain teaser/fidget puzzles like wooden puzzle cubes and puzzle boxes and metal knot things. he knows how to solve a rubik’s cube can do it in under 2 minutes no biggie he doesn’t even own one himself he just goes “can i try” whenever he sees one and flies through it. he can even solve one with his eyes closed just looks at it for a minute shuts his eyes boom solved. all these give him something to do with his hands conventional puzzles are too much sitting still and looking he needs to fidget or straight up not move none of this half and half nonsense.

iwaizumi hajime completely impartial when it comes to puzzles. he’ll help oikawa on one if he’s asked to but never seeks puzzles out he gets the appeal they’re just not for him personally. he saw a comic book puzzle one time that was really cool but that’s the extent of his interest tbh. iwaizumi isn’t a huge fan of sit down activities that aren’t competitive (anti puzzle pro video game) but as nerdy as it sounds has always been a fan of reading . graphic novels real books even the newspaper something about it is engaging and relaxing enough at the same time for him to sit still for an extended period of time. middle aged married iwaoi on weekends tooru does a puzzle at the table while hajime sits on the couch and reads a book they’re both wearing glasses they take a break at 2pm to take a nap together and go on a walk then are back at it by 4.

[imoncloud7]

part 4;

prev. | m.list | next

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written portion at the end!!

"god fuckin' damnit." yn sighed as she put her phone down. she was currently in her last lecture of the day, contemplating how she got into this mess. and how all of her friends suddenly knew oikawa tooru. and how he found her twitter and followed it.

yn had met matsukawa issei in their last term during their first year of school, and while they were not too close, they did have one thing in common. they loved to go out. their drunk escapades slowly began to include mattsun's not-boyfriend-but-boyfriend makki, and they all slowly began to get a bit closer.

being that all of their friends were intertwined, it would be a matter of time before they all figured out what was going on between oikawa and yn. their hookups have surprisingly pre-dated all of yn's friendships in college, which have been difficult to come by. being from another country and also an introvert were really big roadblocks.

oikawa never seemed to care about that though. the first night they met, during their first term in their first year, he had approached her at some sort of welcome party an older student was throwing. yn had quickly figured out that he was a chronic flirter, but had enough alcohol in her system to go home with him. which ended up happening every weekend of the first year, and now second year as well. it was nice for yn to have physical contact, as that was hard to come by now having broken up with her ex and being that she had close to no friends in japan. it was a distraction, something that satisfied her needs with no feelings.

these days however, now that he knows more than just her first name and how to please her, it's too complicated. and wildly uncomfortable.

flashback: 1st term, 1st year

"smoking's not a good look on such a pretty face like yours" yn heard behind her on the balcony. the inside was stuffy and the music felt like it was eating her eardrums alive, so she had made her way outside for some peace and quiet. only for it to be disturbed.

"oh yeah? and who are you to have an opinion on that?" the girl looked over her shoulder to see who was behind her. she was met with a pair of chocolate brown eyes and windswept hair to match.

oikawa thinks his heart may have stopped when she turned to look at him. he had seen her inside and thought she was pretty, sure, but out here was a different story. the moonlight caused her e/c eyes to glow, and her hair seemed so much softer out here. his eyes widened a bit and he choked on his words a bit before responding.

"im oikawa. oikawa tooru. and sorry, truthfully i couldn't think of another way to approach you." he walked up towards the edge of the balcony, taking his place to her right. she took a long drag before offering it towards him wordlessly.

"no thanks, i'm an athlete i can't really do that stuff."

"but you're at a party, clearly intoxicated. i wonder what your coach would think of that." she shot back.

"touche. you never told me your name." he chuckled in his response.

"yn."

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notes:

the "smokings not a good look on you" line was actually used on me

i was at a club in singapore and an old man (maybe like 50-60 yrs old) literally started talking to me while i had a cig in my hand like go away u creep im 20

he texted me on whatsapp later abt that like mind ur business

idk why i gave him my number tbh i just wanted to see if hed buy me drinks

anyways i love matsukawa issei (whats new)

little flashback moment to when their whole affair started!!

either the next chapter or the next two chapters shi may go down

[captain-hawks]

IMAGINE BEING LOVED BY ME.

issei matsukawa x f!reader

Your co-star drops out the morning that you're meant to get started on your latest film. The hastily written name on the call sheet for his last-minute replacement simply reads: MATTSUN.

wc: 3.6k tags: 18+ only, pornstar!mattsun, pornstar!reader, brat!reader, brat!tamer mattsun, teasing, dom!mattsun vibes, fingering, finger sucking, masturbation, edging, unprotected p in v, creampie -> requested

“What happened to Iwaizumi?”

Glancing up from the latest copy of today’s script that was just handed to you, you point to where your co-star’s name is crossed out in black sharpie. Beside it, someone has hurriedly written ‘MATTSUN’. 

While the name vaguely rings a bell, you can’t quite put a face to it. You certainly haven’t shot anything with him before. 

The director, Oikawa, sighs. “Iwa-chan had some bad sushi last night, he’s been puking all morning.”

You can’t help the slight pout that works its way onto your lips. While it’s perhaps not wholly professional to have preferred co-stars in your line of work, Iwaizumi’s one of your favorite scene partners by far. 

As if reading your mind, Oikawa adds, “I know you love working that poor man into the palm of your hand.”

So you have a bit of a penchant for letting your bratty side come out in your roles. And with someone like Iwaizumi, whose brusque off-screen attitude collapses like a deck of cards the moment you offer him doe eyes and pouty lips for the cameras, it makes for a dynamic that you’ve become known for in your films. 

Which is why you nearly stumble when he adds, “But I’ll warn you that Mattsun is…a bit different.”

You raise a brow. “How so?”

Appearing from seemingly out of nowhere, his assistant, Hanamaki, peers from around his shoulder with several clipboards clutched in his hands, along with a tray of coffees. Eyes sparkling with something that borders on mischief, he grins, “Mattsun? Ahh…you’ll see.”

–

“Hey.”

A deep voice startles you from your thoughts, and you nearly drop your phone in the process. Unfortunately, you do actually lose your grip on the device when you suddenly find yourself face-to-face with what might be the most attractive man you’ve ever seen.

(And you’ve worked with Kuroo fucking Tetsurou, so that’s saying something.)

He’s tall, very tall, with black hair that has just enough product in it to style his waves while still looking inexplicably soft. His eyes are a deep, rich shade of brown, the playful amusement in them mirroring the slight upward curve of his lips. And while you’re not normally one to outright ogle when you’re working, as he bends down to pick up your phone, you can’t help but let your eyes briefly stray over the tattoos on his chest, the ink exposed by the several rogue buttons left forgotten at the top end of his black shirt. As he hands it to you, you inadvertently catch a glance at several more winding lines that make their way from beneath the rolled-up sleeves of his button down, crawling up his forearms. 

It’s not often that you find yourself speechless, and yet—

“Thank…you?” 

You haven’t the slightest fucking clue why you phrased it as a question.

He chuckles, and you pointedly try to ignore the way the low, rough sound goes right to your gut. Casually leaning against the brick wall beside you, he pulls a pack of cigarettes out of his well-fitting black slacks. 

“Do you mind if I smoke?” he asks.

You blink at him. “We’re outside, I think you can do whatever you want.”

He grins, offering you a lopsided smile that makes your breath catch in your throat for some reason. “I’m asking because we start filming in fifteen.”

Oh.

“Mattsun?” you inquire, trying to hide your surprise.

“Matsukawa Issei.” He sticks out a hand to shake yours. “I’ve seen some of your movies. I’m looking forward to working with you.”

There’s something about the way he says it, something in his tone that nestles its way down the back of your throat, brushing against the base of your spine before unfurling deep in your abdomen. 

It’s eighty degrees outside.

And you shiver.

Though you don’t entirely understand why.

–

“Alright, from the top, people! The viewing is in full swing, and the granddaughter of the deceased has just cornered the funeral director in a coat closet,” Hanamaki calls out. 

You’ve always found it easy to cry on-camera.

“It’s so hard being out there,” you hiccup, palms pressing into Matsukawa’s black button down. 

He pats you on the shoulder, a bit awkwardly, as the funeral director who was just unceremoniously dragged into a closet is meant to do. 

“It’s overwhelming seeing my family…” You rest your head against his chest, arms snaking around his stiff frame. “And my boyfriend was supposed to come with me…but then I found out he was cheating on me yesterday…”

Another fake sob.

“Maybe I should get someone for you…” Matsukawa says, carefully trying to pry you off of him.

Tears roll down your cheeks, and you let your eyes go a little big, lips falling into a pout that would have someone like Iwaizumi dry humping you in seconds as you whine, “I’m just so lonely.”

You’ve been doing this long enough to know exactly how your desperate, pleading face looks right now on-camera, lit with soft spotlight-like light overhead. 

You lean your lower half into him, hips brushing together.

Now, he should offer you a sharp intake of breath in return, a man torn between his duty and the traitorous arousal coursing through him. He should take a step back as you press into him further, eyes going a little wide as you run a hand over the gratuitously low neckline of your dress—

Despite the fact that Oikawa had taken you aside to warn you that Mattsun has a tendency to improvise, your reaction is still wholly authentic when he flips the script on you entirely.

Between one breath and the next, you find your back pressed against the wall behind you, Matsukawa’s palm laid flat beside your head as he leans in, lips curled into a smirk.

“So you thought you’d pull me in here,” he murmurs, one long, slender finger hooking itself in the strap of your dress. “And what? Suck my dick?”

You’d reassured Oikawa several times before you were ushered out of the makeup chair that you were fine with improvisation. In fact, given how bland the scripts had been for some of your more recent films, you welcomed the challenge.

But when you go to respond to Matsukawa, you find that all you can do is wordlessly part your lips.

“I—”

He tilts his head to the side, a rogue curl falling across his eyebrow, his eyes searching yours for a moment until he seems to have found whatever it is that he’s looking for.

“Or maybe you’re just bored. Maybe you thought you’d come in here and show me your pretty tits. Then you’d sit back down out there in one of those chairs and giggle to yourself knowing I’m too fucking hard to come back out.”

Well, yes. That’s what the script calls for. 

He cups your chin. “But I have a better idea.”

Despite the fact that you’ve never worked with him, it’s clearly a testament to Oikawa’s trust in Mattsun, because he’s yet to call cut. The cameras continue to roll. 

“If that’s okay with you,” he adds in a quiet murmur, and you instinctively know that he’s asking you, not your character. 

Well, fuck it. Fine.

“Okay,” you nod, adding in another sniffle for good measure.

“Good girl,” he rasps, and fuck if you aren’t half tempted to go off-script yourself, drop to your knees, and add a blowjob scene for good measure.

Before you can say anything else, your body spins, and Matsukawa presses both of your hands against the wall that you’re now facing, his chest flush with your back. He brings his hips to your ass, and you have to bite your bottom lip as your eyes go wide at the feeling of just how large his cock is. 

You squeeze your thighs together, feeling a little dizzy at the thought of him fucking you with—

Why are you thinking about that right now? How the fuck is he affecting you this much?

“Normally,” he exhales, breath hot against the shell of your ear, “I send brats home when they’re being disruptive to the service.”

He drags his mouth down the side of your neck and continues against the soft curve where your shoulder begins, “But you’ve caught my attention.”

In what may very well be the most amateur reaction you’ve had to a co-star in years, you find your heart thudding in your chest over what certainly was not meant to be a double entendre. 

“S-someone’s going to notice I’ve been gone for too long,” you whimper, finally regaining your footing with an improvised line of your own.

Matsukawa chuckles, pressing a hot, open-mouthed kiss to the nape of your neck as he rucks up the skirt of your dress and runs two curled knuckles over your clothed cunt. 

“Maybe you should have behaved in the first place, then.”

For a scene like this, shot in a tight space with dim lighting, Matsukawa could get away with just slipping a large hand into your panties while you put on a show and act like he’s fingering you. It’s not like the cameras are set up for a close up of his long digits sliding their way into your cunt.

But Matsukawa must be one of those actors who likes to draw out authentic reactions, because his chest rumbles softly in amusement at the surprised, real moan that tumbles from your lips when he slides his fingers through your slick folds. Warm embarrassment prickles down your spine when you realize how soaked your panties are.

Matsukawa, of course, notices as well. 

“Don’t think I’ve ever seen a girl get this wet while she’s crying,” he observes, voice even.

You push out a few more tears, putting back on the wobbly voice of a grieving granddaughter. “You’ve just been so nice to me today.”

Matsukawa’s lips graze your ear again, and he slips two fingers into your sopping wet pussy as he whispers, “I’m not nice, sweetheart.”

The sound that heaves from your chest as he nips at your earlobe and plunges in knuckle-deep is so embarrassingly desperate, you know that your soul is going to leave your body when you inevitably have to watch the playback of this scene at some point. But for now, all you can do is curl your fingers against the peeling wallpaper inside of the closet as you beg your legs not to give out beneath you while you rock into his touch.

You don’t even realize how loud you’ve started moaning until Matsukawa claps a hand over your mouth.

“It’s like you want to get caught,” he chastises.

And then suddenly, without warning, the pleasure that’s rapidly building up inside of you is snuffed out like a match as he takes his hand away. 

“What—” you turn to him, dazed, not quite acting anymore. 

His eyes glimmer as he lifts the two fingers coated in your sticky arousal and places them in his mouth, licking them clean. 

Did he just fucking edge—

“Maybe now you’ll behave.”

He goes to leave the closet before you, but not before casting a look back in your direction. The cameras aren’t on his face from this angle, so the smirk that he gives is for you and you alone. 

–

You’re a professional.

You’ve shot plenty of scenes in plenty of films that have been purposefully sexually frustrating.

You’ve even gone entire productions without actually coming.

But this?

This is fucking torture.

There are several filler scenes that follow the fuckery in the closet, ones with the rest of the grieving family where the most you’re meant to do is have a few subtle, flirtatious interactions with the funeral director.

Which would be fine, truly, in any other situation.

But you’re so pent up right now, you’re on the verge of really lighting up Oikawa’s whole script and just adding a masturbation scene right here on this stupid piano bench. He’s written more ridiculous scenes himself, for fuck’s sake. 

And the problem is that Matsukawa seems very much aware of exactly what he’s doing to you, his stupidly handsome expression turning almost teasing every time you lock eyes with him. 

“Not used to not getting your way, princess?” a deep, rough voice startles you, and the piano keys let out a grating sound as your hand twitches. 

You look up to find Matsukawa looming over you, and—did he fucking unbutton his shirt even more?

He catches you staring at the tattoo on his chest, and he grins, curling a finger under your chin and tilting your head to meet his eyes instead. “I’ll let you look if you behave.”

Your toes curl painfully tight.

–

The feeling of relief that courses through you when you walk onto the set for the final scene is all encompassing. If nothing else, regardless of what happens, you’re now this much closer to going home and stuffing a vibrator between your legs. 

You’re splayed out on the large leather couch in the funeral director’s office when Matsukawa walks in. His eyes widen (as they’re scripted to) when he sees your cunt on full display, two fingers already stuffed inside. 

It feels so good, you want to sob.

Now as per Oikawa’s story, he’s supposed to start palming himself through his pants as he watches you. Then you’ll climb into his lap and tell him how badly you’ve been waiting all day for him to fuck you. He’ll try to tell you it’s not a good idea, but then he’ll eventually give in when you start whining and grinding on his erection.

Matsukawa’s clearly not done improvising today, though, because instead, he walks up beside you and says, “Stop.”

Though you’re not quite sure where he’s going with this, you roll with it, and the pout that leaves your face isn’t difficult to make—given that you’re actually frustrated that he interrupted your pleasure once again.

He huffs in amusement, running his tongue along his lower lip before he leans down and murmurs in a low tone, “That’s not going to work on me, pretty girl.”

When he straightens back up, he speaks more clearly as he adds, “Since you decided to be such a nuisance today, you’ll come when I say you can.”

“You can’t stop me,” you retort instantly.

He bites his lip, smiling. “Then I won’t fuck you.”

Your empty cunt spasms around nothing.

Rather than having you climb into his lap, Matsukawa ends up on top of you, fingers deftly tugging down the straps of your dress to let your tits spill out. His mouth is searing hot when he begins to mouth at them, teeth grazing your nipples, tongue lapping at your supple, sensitive skin.

You know somewhere off-camera, Oikawa is gleefully eating up the absolutely unhinged moans that are tumbling from your lips.

Then, Matsukawa makes his way down your body, wasting no time in rucking up your dress past your hips as he slides down your panties—he holds your gaze all the while, pressing a kiss to your ankle when he finally slips them off. The black lace disappears in the pocket of his slacks.

With a camera now repositioned for a close-up shot, you know that he’s going to go all-out with his mouth between your legs. But you’re still not prepared for the full-body shiver that runs through you, the way your spine arches up off of the cushion when he begins to lap at your cunt with fervor. You unconsciously bury your fingers in your hair as he stuffs his tongue into your aching, wet hole, tears of pleasure streaming down your face as you desperately rock your hips into his plush, saliva-soaked touch.

And then he stops.

You cry out in protest, in frustration.

“Not yet,” he tells you, kissing your inner thigh, your hip bone, your belly button, before he eventually reaches your neck.

His position finds one of his legs slotted between your own, and though it’s  purely for selfish reasons rather than aesthetic ones, you start dry humping his thigh. A fresh wave of pleasure rocks through you, heightened by the thought of the sticky, damp mess you’re leaving behind on his pants.

He clamps his fingers down on your right hip, holding you still.

“Cute,” he mutters in your ear, so only you can hear him. “Does that move normally work on Iwaizumi?”

With his other hand he cups one of your breasts, dragging the pad of his thumb over your peaked nipple. 

“I guess that shouldn’t surprise me,” he continues. “He does tend to roll right over for brats, considering he’s fucking Oikawa.”

You choke. 

He readjusts, placing his knees on the outside of your legs, hand releasing your hip to stroke your throbbing, swollen clit at a maddeningly slow pace. Abandoning your breast, he cups the side of your face, thumb tugging down your bottom lip.

“I think I’m letting you off too easy right now,” he says quietly. “But this scene is supposed to cut in ten minutes, so we’d better give them a podium finish.”

You’ve been doing this for years.

You’ve had a lot of sex.

But the moment that Matsukawa’s fat cock bottoms out inside of your tight, dripping cunt, as he lifts up your left thigh to wrap it around his waist to fuck you even deeper, as he pins your wrists above your head and finally brings his lips crashing down onto yours—

—it’s never been like this. 

Matsukawa kisses you hard, and he fucks you even harder, the couch creaking in protest with each rough snap of his hips. The room is filled with the sounds of slapping flesh and the lewd, filthy squelch of your cunt. Arousal drips from your folds, coating the leather surface of the cushions and sliding down your ass. You moan, voice breaking into a sob as your cunt grips his thick cock while he relentlessly stuffs it back inside of you. 

At one point, he releases your hands, fingers cupping the back of your head as he licks his way into your mouth. You card your fingers through his hair, the locks just as soft as you’d imagined, and you tug. Matsukawa groans, and it dissolves into a chuckle as you pull even harder. His lust-blown pupils find yours as he takes your bottom lip between his teeth and bites down.

You whine, and he grins, kissing the pain away as he continues to pump his cock into your tight, sopping wet channel. 

And because your hands are now free, you take advantage of the opportunity to take off his shirt. In your eagerness, you end up popping off half of the remaining buttons, and he laughs under his breath, helping you the rest of the way before tossing it to the floor. 

You’re certain that he feels the way your cunt clenches as you drink in the full sight of the colorful tattoos that adorn his chest and arms. 

“Mattsun,” you accidentally breathe out.

Whatever, they can fucking edit that out with an ADR moan. 

His eyes flash, and he brushes his lips against yours and murmurs, “Issei.”

You blink at him, chest heaving, and before you can think better of it, you thread your fingers into the hair at the back of his head and pull his ear to your mouth.

“Issei.”

Matsukawa groans. He slams his cock so deep inside of you, stars prickle at the backs of your eyes. The coil of pleasure deep in your gut twists and trembles, your muscles tensing further with each and every stroke. 

“Come for me,” Matsukawa says, staring down at your fucked out, cock drunk face. 

He doesn’t look any better.

A stubborn part of you almost wants to come up with some pointless retort, just for the sake of being a—

“Quit being a brat and come all over my cock.”

Pleasure explodes inside of you, white-hot and searing through your veins from head to toe. Your cunt spasms, your body shakes, and Matsukawa’s mouth crashes back into yours as he kisses you hard and swallows down your breathless moans. 

When you come down from your climax, Matsukawa’s cock is still heavy and thick, lodged in the grip of your slick hole. And because you just can’t help yourself, you turn your head to the side, where one of his hands sits flat against the cushion. You take his pointer and middle fingers into your mouth, tongue swirling around the digits as you make eye contact with him while you suck on them. 

Matsukawa’s lips part.

You abandon his hand after a moment, arching up to bring your lips to his ear once more to whisper only to him, “Aren’t you going to fill me up, Issei?”

It’s fruitless to try and hide the second, toe-curling orgasm that Matsukawa drags out of you solely from the feeling of his fat cock pulsing against your slick walls, filling your cunt to the brim with thick, hot ropes of cum that seem to never end. 

It’s quiet on the set for a few moments after the two of you come apart, cum dripping all over the couch as it slides off of Matsukawa’s cock and drips out of your pussy in thick, sticky globs. 

Hanamaki offers both of you robes, and Oikawa hurries over, eyes shining with excitement as he says, “Please tell me you’ll work together again, I have the perfect script coming up.”

Matsukawa cocks his head to the side as he looks at you with a half-smile, waiting. 

It’s up to you.

You turn to Oikawa and nod.

[no1frogfan]

Impending, part 1

Matsukawa Issei x afab reader

Word count: ~1.1k

Tags & warnings: a bit of drinking, eventual smut (in the next part)

Note: Oops, this was supposed to be 500 words of porn without plot but now it’s going to be a multi-part porn with feelings. I’m the only one who didn’t see that coming. Here you go mica :* @princesskazuya

part 2

“Thought I’d find you down here. Mom and dad want you to make an appearance before grandma has to leave.”

Hiro grunts, eyes glued to the television where Princess Peach is gaining on Wario.

“Oh. Hey Issei.”

Unlike Hiro, he greets you in response, sidelong glance lingering for just a moment before returning to the tv.

You make your way down the rest of the basement stairs to flop onto the ratty old couch behind them, beer swishing at the movement. The boys lay side-by-side, splayed out on their stomachs on the carpeted floor. They’re both so tall now that they barely fit between the couch and the tv all stretched out like this. It makes it hard not to think about the last time you saw them together. They used to be the same height as you and so scrawny, bony limbs poking out of baggy t-shirts and gym shorts. You could’ve taken them both in a fight, easy — and more than once you did.

But if you thought Hiro’s grown … Somehow Issei got even taller than your brother. Bigger too.

In the lead now, Princess Peach rounds the bend for the last lap. Wario is slowly closing in after an unlucky shell shot sent him tumbling off a cliff.

You tuck one leg under the other and sip your beer. Their bottles sit forgotten on the table as they jostle for the lead. What’s happening on screen is not much different from what’s in front of you as they try to knock the controller out of the other’s hands, shit-talking and shoving each other aggressively.

By the time they’ve reached the last quarter of the track, they’re just full-on wrestling. You hurriedly pull your other leg up out of harm’s way and snatch up their beers so they don’t get knocked off the table. The other racers pass by as they grapple in earnest — Hiro’s laid out on top trying to put Issei in a headlock but Issei hunches over, arms bulging as he grabs Hiro’s thigh and flips him onto his back with a thud.

You just roll your eyes.

They’ve always been like this — rowdy and obnoxious. You’d think more boys would make things more chaotic, but their other friends somehow kept them in line when they all hung out together. When it was just the two of them, they were a way bigger pain in the ass.

“Takahiro, get up here!” A muffled yell comes from upstairs.

“Dad’s calling for you.”

When they don’t stop fighting, you kick Hiro hard in the ass. “Hey!”

“Ow! What the fuck?” Hiro kicks back, missing you by a mile.

“Dad’s calling for you,” you repeat.

“Ugh,” he grumbles and pushes himself up off the floor, still catching his breath. He grabs his half-finished beer out of your hand and flips you off before heading upstairs. “Don’t touch my game.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll make sure to win for you,” you call after him.

“I said don’t touch it!”

“No promises!”

When you turn back, Issei is already holding up Hiro’s controller, one thick eyebrow raised and a wicked grin on his face. You mirror his grin.

A whiff of something clean and citrusy tickles your nose when you lean forward. It freezes you in place for a split second before your brain kicks back into gear, trading his beer for the controller and settling back comfortably cross-legged.

“Ready to get wrecked?”

It used to be so easy to rile them up. Issei just chuckles at your taunt now. Sitting up, he pulls down the shirt that’s ridden up his stomach in the tussle, covering the churn of muscle underneath. His shoulder brushes against your knee as he leans back against the couch. His hair has gotten longer, resting in easy waves atop his head. From this angle, the light catches the sheen of sweat on the back of his neck where a few curls lay plastered against his nape. This close, you can smell the salty tang of sweat sneaking through the cologne.

“You remember how to play?” The bass of his voice rumbles through you. That’s new too.

You startle when he twists around to look up at you through hooded eyes.

It’s cool down in the basement, perfect for escaping the heat of the afternoon, but you’re out of the frying pan and into the fire it seems because he’s practically laying his sweaty torso in your lap, one elbow draped over your thigh, his heavy bicep propped on you…

“Yeah, I remember.” Your voice comes out like a purr instead of a sting and he smirks.

You straighten up, shoving his arm off you. “Just hurry up.”

His eyes dart down to your chest with a hum and he scrutinizes you one last time before turning around. Thankfully, he doesn’t say anything else before he starts the race.

Hiro clomps back downstairs just as you cross the finish line. You’d eked out a win, barely. Mostly because you got lucky with the items. Without a word, Hiro plucks the controller out of your hands and resumes his earlier position on his stomach. Issei makes no move to join him. Instead, he plants a palm on your knee to push himself up off the floor and sinks down next to you on the couch.

You keep your eyes trained on the tv, not on him, and not on his hands. Not on his long fingers or the size of his palms.

Your senses become distinctly attuned to his proximity and the itch of his leg hair against your skin with every slight shift. You swipe through your phone wondering if it’s a distraction for him too.

“Anything catch your interest?”

A breathy murmur against your neck makes you jolt. The last race has already ended and they’re waiting for the next to start. When you turn, he’s only a hair’s breadth away, expression hesitant but goading.

Hiro yawns and you’re suddenly reminded of where you are.

You push Issei off and spring to your feet.

“I’m going to grab another beer.”

Matsukawa lets out a low groan as you scurry toward the stairs.

“What?” Makki twists around to look at him, then follows Mattsun’s line of sight up the steps until his eyeline hits the back of your thighs. “Gross, dude. Stop that.”

“No.”

“Fuck you.”

[lenaariewrld]

dream girl

matsukawa issei ending・ᡣ𐭩

The breeze was cool against your warmed skin, dancing past you, caressing the blades of grass as it went and tickling your legs. It was mostly quiet, birds and bugs chirping and singing in the trees or around you. You weren’t sure when you’d laid down, your back relaxing against the soft blanket, but it felt peaceful. And it felt right when Mattsun laid next to you, his arms folded behind his head.

Your skin buzzed with electricity, a steady thrumming current under the surface as your nerves picked up every millimeter where his skin touched yours. His shoulders against yours, his thigh brushing against your hip, his shoe tapping against your calf on occasion. But it didn’t make you feel on edge. No, instead you felt… safe.

You and Mattsun stared up at the sky in retrospective silence, letting the peace of nature be undisturbed except for your breaths and the music that was barely audible from Mattsun’s phone. The sun had set low, barely any light in the sky and allowing the velvety curtain of nighttime to bleed into the sky. Stars sparkled into your vision the longer you looked, brightly dotting the violet canvas stretched above you. A quiet sigh of content leaves you. This was right. This was nice. It’s reassuring to just have this time, these beats of silence where you can just soak in everything and let the world pass by.

Soon enough, the fireworks began to zip into the sky. Whistles and whoops signalled different ones as they shot up outside of your vision, exploding into a flurry of colors and shapes. You and Mattsun dramatically ‘ooh’ and ‘aah’ at each one, giggling at the stupid gasps the other lets out. You feel your cheeks grow warm, and they hurt just a little bit from how hard you find yourself smiling, glancing between the sky and the man lying beside you. His dark eyes seem to reflect every color of the fireworks, glued to them like he was trying to map it all in his mind.

When it all ends, you both remain on the blanket for another minute or two. The wind was tinged with the faint smell of gunpowder and ash, making your nostrils burn if you breathed too deeply.

“Mm, I almost forgot,” With a grunt, Mattsun sits up. He stretches his back and you watch as he turns to pull his bag onto his lap, sitting yourself up as well. You chuckle as he digs around in the bag.

“More surprises?”

He tosses you a playfully stern look, finally taking out whatever he’d been looking for. He places a small paper lantern, folded flatly for the time being, between the both of you. “A bunch of students release these after the fireworks show,” He says quietly, his voice small. Your eyes remain on his face, even as he looks at the lantern or around at the mostly empty field you two find yourselves in. You can’t see as well in this low lighting as you’d like, but you can tell he was blushing, the dark flush to his cheeks obvious to you.

“It’s this… tradition we have,” He adds, turning the lantern around in his hands, finding a blank spot. “We write our names on the inside before we light it and send it out, and it’s supposed to help grant wishes or bring good luck to whoever’s name is in the lantern.” He finally lifts his eyes to look at you, and you’re sure that your face must look about as brightly red as his does the way you feel butterflies erupting in your intestines, flurrying around your stomach like crazy. “I thought it would be a good idea for you to write your name down,” He holds out the lantern to you.

A moment passed between the both of you.

Hesitantly, you reach out, your fingers curling around the delicate paper and holding it closer to yourself. Mattsun had always been sweet. He was weird and his tone was sometimes too serious to tell if he was joking, but it added charm, and he never failed to make it clear that he meant no ill will towards you. He cut off any worries before your brain even had the chance to sprout them. He was good at reading you.

Somehow, in all the time you’d spent with Mattsun, he’d figured out a way to decipher your alphabet, memorized every line on every page of your being, and surmised how to handle you. Like he’d known you for years, and it was just so natural for the two of you to mesh. You blink slowly, your thumb caressing the lantern. “We should write yours too..” You say in a whisper, your voice barely carrying above the wind. Mattsun remains quiet, his teeth dragging against his bottom lip.

“Okay,”

“I know the tradition here..” You add, taking the pen he digs out and allows you to take. You begin by writing his name, careful to make your writing extra pretty for no reason than because you wanted to. “And I think we both deserve some good luck,” You smile, and catch his gaze, the way his grin is crooked on his face and his eyes are staring at you lazily, taking in your aura and your presence as easily as breathing.

You finish writing your names and cap the pen, holding it in your mouth as you unfold the lantern. It wasn’t much bigger than a loaf of bread when it was all said and done, with a small hole at the top, the bottom fitted with a loop of wire to hold the lantern’s flame perfectly in the middle. “Here,” You let him take the lantern to hold it. You feel metaphorical sparks when his fingers brush against your own, a glow seeming to grow in the air that separates you two. It’s bright and almost suffocating, but it wasn’t tense. It wasn’t bad.

Mattsun wordlessly pulls out a lighter and finds the wick for the lantern. A soft yellow flickering grows from inside the paper, and soon enough the tiny lantern is lifting out of the man’s hand, floating up and away from the two of you.

You watch it slink away into the night.

Your lips part in shock as you spot more lanterns, all varying in shape, size, and color, starting to rise into the sky, peeking out from trees or other spots in the field, or drifting from even further along. Carried by the wind to join the others. A feeling rises in your chest, a contentness you’d only felt in small blips or pieces. Times when you looked back and found a pocket of time where you felt truly happy and in your place. Mattsun leans over to bump his shoulder against yours. “What’s rattlin’ in that head?” He asked, the silly phrasing making you laugh softly. Airy.

“I think I like you,” You admit, feeling no hesitation or worry about admitting it. It felt like saying any other fact about yourself, like sharing what your favorite fruits were, or that you preferred one kind of dessert over another. Or that you, for all intents and purposes, had developed a crush on the man.

Mattsun smiles again, his teeth poking from beneath his lips. “I knew already,” His tone is as light as yours, “You were kind of obvious,” He adds. A raucous laugh rips from him when you shove his shoulder hard enough to knock him on his side, giggling all the while as you throw out a noncommittal ‘shut up’. He rolls onto his side, his laughter only growing. He takes a deep breath a second later and reaches out to grab your hand, pulling you towards him. You grunt from the unexpected movement, falling onto his chest.

“I like you too,” He whispers, one of his arms snaking around your waist and keeping you pressed to him. You relax and fold your arms above his chest, your chin on your hands. “So much,” He adds, reaching out to brush some hair behind your ear.

“I know,” As all you say, your tone teasing but nonetheless incredibly soft. It was all you needed in that moment, just to hear him say he’d known and felt it too. You hum as he chuckles, and the both of you fall silent again. This time, you let him stare up at the sky, closing your eyes and pressing your cheek against his chest. You feel his heartbeat underneath your palms, and hear it in your ears. A steady, assured rhythm that seems to calm at the same time you do, urging you to relax further into him. This was where you needed to be…

| three years later...

———

previous | masterlist

extras:

y/n and mattsun spent the most time out of all the aoba johsai guys together bc they got along so easily (but all of them were close)

mattsun entirely lied abt what the others were up to so it could just be him and y/n

taglist: closed

[tkuro0]

— MAIN MASTERLIST

HAIKYUU!!

SMAU/SMAU HYBRID

up all night: matsukawa issei x f!reader

everything is romantic: kuroo tetsurou x f!reader (coming soon!)

WRITTEN

nostalgia: hanamaki takahiro x reader ; one-shot

shampoo bottles: miya atsumu x reader ; 1/2 part one-shot

red corolla: miya atsumu ; 2/2 part one-shot

FOR MORE ; Ao3

FOR OTHERS ; 777

Copyright © 2024 tkuro0.tumblr.com

[luvnami]

hq masterlist

aoba johsai

ɞ midnight confession | hanamaki takahiro x gn!reader / fluff / one-shot ɞ love is a multifaceted thing | hanamaki takahiro x gn!reader / fluff / one-shot ɞ sundays are for fuckin' | matsukawa issei x afab!reader / smut / one-shot ɞ playstation controller | hanamaki takahiro x matsukawa issei x fem!reader / smut / one-shot

fukurodani

ɞ ...

inarizaki

ɞ ri-chan! 🍒 | miya atsumu x reader / fluff / multichapter / completed ɞ love's a receipe | miya atsumu x reader / angst to fluff / one-shot ɞ ask me again | suna rintarou x reader / fluff / one-shot ɞ seven stages of grief | suna rintarou x reader / fluff / drabble ɞ your baby chestnut | suna rintarou x reader / fluff / drabble ɞ the proper care of foxes | inarizaki x reader / fluff / angst / multichapter / wip ɞ some mistakes were meant to be made | kita shinsuke x reader / fluff / drabble ɞ gamer bf | suna rintarou x reader / fluff / drabble

itachiyama

ɞ ...

karasuno

ɞ in the club | sugawara koushi x reader / fluff / suggestive / drabble

nekoma

ɞ ...

shiratorizawa

ɞ Sun | ushijima wakatoshi x afab!reader / fluff to angst / multichapter / completed ɞ your name is written on my heart | ushijima wakatoshi x reader / fluff / angst / smut / thoughts and drabbles / wip ɞ one more, baby | ushijima wakatoshi x tendou satori x fem!reader / smut / one-shot

multi

ɞ how the haikyuu boys fart | crack / headcanons ɞ haikyuu captains and their funny er stories | crack / headcanons ɞ how the haikyuu 2021 olympics team reacts to you asking them to sign a photo of themselves from high school | crack / headcanons

msby black jackals

ɞ ...

schweiden adlers

ɞ not a glory hole! | ushijima wakatoshi x reader / neighbour!au / romcom / multichapter / wip

misc.

ɞ ...