#matsukawa issei x reader

[chimielie]

send flowers to my funeral

summary: Matsukawa x Reader. happy birthday FREAK

word count: 924

cw: no minors pls 🙏 suggestive content (scene starts immediately after mattsun and reader have finished having sex), no gendered terms or genitalia are mentioned but reader is pretty clearly. how do i put this delicately. getting fucked by him on the regular, fwb to lovers

a/n: my apologies for the incorrect characterization (mattsun and makki have a coffee table which is frankly unrealistic). also i insert a completely random rarepair headcanon with no context and then don’t expand at all

"My back hurts," you moan. "Get off me."

"One second," Issei says, his naked chest warm as his big body blankets you. "I'm tired."

"You're tired?" You can't even twist your neck up to look at him. You hope your tone betrays your incredulity.

"Well, I was the one doing all the work," he says, and you gasp indignantly.

"No, actually, get off of me!" You say. "All you have to do is," you back your hips up into his, where you're still connected. He groans, and you lose your train of thought for a split second. "You think those acrobatics are easy?"

"It was a mutual effort," he cedes. "Hey—"

"No," you say, aggravated. "I'm sore."

He shifts slightly, one thick forearm braced next to your head. You're bent over the arm of the couch, forehead almost touching the cushions. You say: "Okay, after I shower."

Showering together is one of those things you don't do, like kissing or staying the night. You'd put up emotional guards when you started doing whatever it is you and Issei do.

They hadn't worked, like, at all.

In the shower, you don't play music, just scrub yourself down and prod the red marks he'd left behind. On the hips, the chest, the ass. You never take long, afraid to use up his hot water or reveal something you don't mean to vis-à-vis the affinity for love songs you've developed.

After you've left the shower and the both of you drip water all over his covers, he puts the sheets in the laundry and pulls you back onto the couch, really on the couch this time, his feet up on the arm, his arms around you.

"It's my birthday today," he says suddenly, and you jolt. You hadn't known that. "My friends and I are gonna go for dinner. Come with?"

You stare at him with wide eyes.

"You should've told me, I would've been nicer to you," you say, still trying to wrap your head around the question he'd asked you.

"You're plenty nice to me," he laughs, "what are you talking about?"

"What are you talking about?" You parrot. "Do your friends even know about me?"

"'Course," you feel one shoulder move in a shrug beneath you. "I told them about the time you faxed nudes to the mortuary.”

You’d been particularly proud of that feat, right up until he’d called you and you’d heard it in his very voice that you wouldn’t be walking the next day.

“Wow, I had no idea that was what made me stand out,” you laugh. “I don’t have any plans tonight, anyway. How many others have you invited?”

“Oh, it’s just the guys from high school,” he shrugs. “Kawa and Iwa always have some other volleyball addict strapped to their backs, so there’ll probably be a couple more, but I don’t really like parties.”

Issei is the most low-maintenance guy you know. You admire his ability to go with the flow, to let life wash over him and appreciate the ride.

“No, I meant how many of the others,” you gesture to yourself, a tiny movement. “Like me?”

“You’re the only person who’ll be there that I’ve had sex with, if that’s what you mean,” there’s a little smile on his face, one that makes your heart skip a beat. “Crazy.”

“Didn’t you and Iwaizumi have a thing for a while?” You point out.

“Hooking up once in high school is not the same as having a thing,” he insists. His heartbeat is speeding up under your palm, you notice. Funny. “You and Iwaizumi, then. That’s it.”

“Huh.” You say, and then are quiet for a while. “Matsukawa, forgive me for asking—if this is weird—what are we?”

“I hate that you only call me Issei in bed,” he says.

“I called you that on the couch, like, an hour ago.”

“You know what I mean, don’t be difficult.”

“I am difficult,” you say. “I’m high-maintenance and I’m too much work for someone easygoing like you.”

“I like working on you,” he says, pinching your arm. “I like that you try to be low-maintenance ‘cause you think that’s what I want and you still take up half my day when you’re here and all my mind when you’re not.”

Your lips part, blown off-kilter by his sincerity.

“I think I’m trying to ask you to be official,” he finishes, “but I think I’m fucking it up.”

“You’re not,” you laugh, “don’t worry. I was just going to die if you asked me to come meet all your friends just as the one who faxed you nudes.”

“If you died, I’d do your funeral for free,” he promises. “Oh, shit! That’s what I forgot.”

He shoves you away rather unceremoniously and you struggle to catch your breath on the couch in the few seconds he’s gone.

Issei comes back, a cluster of flowers bundled in one hand, his hair sticking up on one side from lying on the couch. You’ve never seen something so handsome.

You sit up and kiss him before you think about it, his lips soft and warm and a little chapped under yours. For all the time you’ve spent with him, it has the same clumsy charm as any first kiss with someone new, the sparking romance as metal strikes against itself. His cheeks are hot under your hands when you pull away.

“It should’ve been me giving you a birthday gift,” you say softly. “Thank you, Issei.”

(The two of you are late to dinner.)

[lxnarphase]

mattsun is a big guy with big hands, and he tries so hard not to grab the headboard, he really does, because you both have just moved into your new home and it's just a temporary bed until the kingsize frame comes to replace this one

but you keep refusing to cum, telling him you wanted to make him cum first, teasing him with pretty whines and giggles of how cute he looks when he's frustrated. but issei is determined to fuck you into an orgasm.

his hands are death-gripping the headboard now, trying his best to ground himself so that he doesn't fill you up before he gets to feel you milking his cock with those soft, velvety walls.

just before he gets a chance to say anything, a loud crack fills the room, making both of you stop. "i-issei?! what happened? is-is the bed breaking," you asked, trying to sit up. you follow his eyes to see where he's staring and...

"uh...i didn't mean to," he says, his lips pursed. you gasped at the sight, eyes wide in shock. the headboard it...was splintering where he was holding it. and yeah, sure, it's a cheap headboard, but...

"o-oh."

"did...you just squeeze me because of that?"

"absolutely not, you broke my fucking headboard, mattsukawa!"

"oooh, you liked it. aww, lil' thing likes that I'm so strong?"

"you BROKE the head that I BOUGHT! temporary or not!"

[na0koz]

hq boys fav positions…

fem reader. suna, sakusa, ushijima, atsumu, kenma, tsukishima, mattsun

suna’s fav is cowgirl. he’s lazy but he can still tease you like he always does - e.g. jerking his hips up into you when you slow down, guide your hips with his biiiig slender hands. also easy clit access he loves to finish at the same time as you.

for sakusa im feeling doggy or prone bone. i am just feeling that from him. he loves to squeeze the fat around your hips and thighs while he pulls you back and forth on his dick. he also feels he reaches the deepest this way.

ushijima. mating press or missionary. he likes to see all of you while you guys have sex and it also makes you look extra small under him compared to his giant build. he’s never said it out loud but the size difference between you guys turns him onnnn.

atsumu is also a doggy lover. he lives to be balls deep inside you, especially in a position he can go faster and harder in. i think he’d also like to do it standing up, for example in the shower. atsumu and shower sex go hand in hand for me.

kenma likes when youre on his lap. he’s working while you cockwarm him before he finally caves into your begging and bends you over the desk or just fucks up into you in his chair. good thing it’s wipe clean fabric.

tsukishima also likes cowgirl/reverse cowgirl/anything where you do all the work. he’s lazy with it and finds it very tiring to fuck you while you lay back on the bed, so you can get yourself and him off by riding him.

mattsun doesn’t really have a favourite position in particular but he really enjoys fucking you in places that aren’t your bed. e.g. over a counter, the couch, in the car if he’s feeling particularly freaky. he just likes getting off with you.

[teddybeartoji]

18+ mdni; gn!reader

thinking about playing truth or dare with seijoh 4 and then getting dared to kiss mattsun right there in front of them all mmmhmmm you know he would love that shit – there's a permanent smirk glued to his lips as you climb onto his lap, his hands tugging on the material of your shirt to pull you flush to him. he's so fucking cocky and it gets so messy so fast but it's not like any of the other boys are gonna tell you to stop either. their eyes are low and their pupils grow bigger with every passing second, their throats dry as they watch you swap saliva with the dark-haired man. they can hear everything over the soft music that's playing in the background and it's so hard not to focus on the way you're starting to grind back and forth on mattsun's lap.

your fingers play with the unruly hairs on his nape while his dig into your plush skin and as you're getting more and more into it, mattsun's ego blooms. his one hand moves to the back of your head to deepen the kiss even further and as he does so, his eyes flick open and he's met with the filthy gazes of his three best friends. he hums proudly into your mouth at the sight of a blushing makki, who's hand is resting suspiciously close to his lap, a seemingly spiraling iwaizumi, who's trying his best not to look at what's happening before him but is failing so miserably that it's almost funny, and an overly keen oikawa, who's sat there with his lip caught between his teeth. they're all red in the face and mattsun thinks it's adorable really, how worked up you always get the poor guys.

they all want a taste, they all want to feel but for the time being, this little show the both of you are putting on will have to suffice. mattsun tugs on the waistband of your jeans and iwaizumi has to force down a groan as his eyes land on your ass. the lewd thoughts flood his mind and he feels awful – you're one of his closest friends and this is how he thinks of you? how you even feel if you found out.. would you be mad? would you be disgusted?

while he's fighting with the demons in his head, makki and oikawa are doing just about the same. makki's zoned in on the way your chests keep rubbing together and he can't stop imagining about how good it'd feel to have you rubbing up against him like that. and oikawa's busy listening to the sounds. not a single gasp or mewl goes unnoticed in his ears as he tries to memorize them as best as he can with the intention of going home and humping his pillow to the heavenly melody that's your needy whines until he's crying tears of pleasure.

so when he hears you whisper into mattsun's mouth, his cock twitches in his slacks.

"are they still watching?"

you don't think they're overstepping, you don't think that the men you've grown so close with over the years are disgusting perverts for getting off on the sight of you making out with one of them – you want them to watch. you're the one that's getting off on it, you're the one with all the power. oikawa realizes that no matter how much mattsun wants to act like he's the one that's making this happen, he's probably rock hard, too. he's no better than his friends, he's just glad that he's the one that gets to actually kiss you. but there's a reason for that aswell – neither makki and iwaizumi wouldn't've been able to handle it and well oikawa himself...

his and mattsun's eyes meet once more across the dark room and he knows his playing right into your hand. of course, he's going to figure out what you're doing – that's exactly what you want. he's the next person to fall, he's the next you're going to pull in.

pulling your lips from mattsun's, you grin to yourself as you watch him chase after you for another second. but then you're craning your neck to glance at oikawa over your shoulder; you let your eyes drop to his crotch before flicking back up again, reveling in the way he turns another shade darker. he refuses to look away though – he's gladly stepping into the trap you've set for all of them, and so when you curl your finger at him, beckoning him closer like some siren, he's quick to spring up on his feet and make his way over, leaving makki and iwaizumi staring at his back in bewilderment.

still sat on mattsun's lap with his hands on your body, you lean back enough just to give oikawa the room to inch closer. you reach for his face and pull his lips down onto yours with mattsun right there, just a breath away. he's sweeter than your last kiss and you can't wait to let them all know how they taste later.

you can't wait to have them all. one by one.

[captain-hawks]

OVERRATED // matsukawa issei x f!reader

You’re convinced that getting fingered is overrated. Your roommate shows you otherwise, since you’ve clearly never been with someone who knows what they’re doing.

2.6k — 18+, roommates to lovers, fingering, mattsun and those goddamn hands

A woman sits in a dark booth in the back corner of a restaurant, lower lip tucked between her teeth, fingers digging into the edges of her seat as she tries not to make it obvious that the man beside her has his hand up her skirt. 

“There’s no way it feels that good for her,” you scoff, arms crossed, eyes narrowed as you stare judgmentally at the television screen. 

Matsukawa looks from you, to the movie, and back again. “Getting fingered?”

Your eyes flit over to where your roommate’s sitting on the opposite end of the couch, one brow raised as he lifts a can of soda to his lips.

The woman on the television screen moans.

(This isn’t porn, for the record.)

“Yeah? I mean this is like, false advertising.”

Matsukawa blinks. “I literally do not think I’ve ever met a girl who doesn’t enjoy being fingered.”

A sudden surge of heat licks at the back of your neck at his words, and you force your attention back to the screen. “And just how many girls have you—actually, you know what. Nevermind. Don’t answer that.”

He lets out a quiet huff of a laugh, and the two of you are silent for another five minutes or so before he speaks up again.

“So you’ve never had an orgasm just from being fingered then.”

Matsukawa says it bluntly, plainly, like he’s completely unbothered by the prospect of casually discussing sex with you on your couch on a Friday night. 

“Nope,” you shake your head, popping the ‘P’ for emphasis.

He’s not looking at you when he replies, “That’s a shame.”

—

Your phone lights up with a notification for a text message from Matsukawa on Sunday morning while you’re still in bed. You’re pretty sure he left the apartment early to get breakfast with Hanamaki, and he’s yet to return.

Mattsun: can you text makki and tell him you think getting fingered is overrated Mattsun: he doesn’t believe me >>: …. >>: so like >>: sometimes makki can just maybe not know things Mattsun: you spent twenty minutes last week telling both of us about your last date who couldn’t get it up Mattsun: in detail Mattsun: with a donut and >>: OKAY YEAH YEAH Mattsun: :)

Collapsing back against your pillows, you groan before opening your text thread with Hanamaki.

>>: getting fingered is overrated, makki Hanamaki: wow he wasn’t kidding  Hanamaki: wild >>: now can you make sure he brings me home a coffee Hanamaki: k Hanamaki: u act like he would ever forget something u asked for >>: what’s that supposed to mean Hanamaki: also though Hanamaki: when are u guys going to fuck

You drop your phone on the mattress, looking around the room as if Hanamaki himself is sitting in the corner snickering at you. 

>>: i’m sorry what >>: who >>: how did we get here Hanamaki: at least ask HIM to finger u  Hanamaki: because this shit is DEpressing >>: i’m blocking your number Hanamaki: u’ve seen his hands right >>: bye Hanamaki: cool i’ll email u xo

Groaning, you bury your face under the covers. 

—

“I had an idea. A really dumb idea, actually. It’s kind of Makki’s fault, but—“

Matsukawa looks up from where he’s pouring a glass of water, brows furrowing. 

“—and honestly just feel free to say no and forget this ever happened—“

He blinks, putting down the cup and leaning against the counter, crossing his arms as he waits for you to fumble through this never ending lead up to a question that’s been eating at the back of your mind all week. 

“Can you uh…could you maybe…”

Matsukawa moves a little closer to you, leaning in, as if his proximity is going to help encourage you to drag the rest of the words from where they’re clinging to the backs of your teeth. 

“CouldyoufingermeinaplatonicwaysoIcanfigureoutifI’mjustbrokenorsomething.”

You say it all in a single breath. 

Matsukawa chokes. 

“You think you’re the problem?” he asks, taken aback. 

“I mean, yeah? If it’s supposed to feel good, and it doesn’t for me, then maybe I—“

“Go put on something that makes you feel sexy,” he interrupts you calmly.

Your heart lurches in your chest. “What? Right now!?” you squeak. 

Matsukawa walks over to the kitchen sink, glancing back at you over his shoulder as he slowly presses down the pump on the foaming soap and thoroughly washes his hands. 

You’re not sure how or why that sight alone already leaves your throat dry. 

He nods. “Put on whatever makes you feel good. It doesn’t matter what it looks like. We’re not going anywhere. And then go in my bedroom, lay down in my bed, and text me when you’re ready.”

Fifteen minutes later, you find yourself on your stomach in Matsukawa’s bed, legs idly kicking in the air to expel the nervous energy simmering in your gut. 

And while it was borderline mortifying trying to pick out something “sexy” to wear before tiptoeing into his bedroom, you realize why he said it now as you hit send on a message that simply reads “Ready.”

Because now that you’re lying here in a short, pleated skirt that’s lived in the back of your closet for years, thigh high socks, a delicate, lacy bralette that you’ve yet to find a reason to wear, and a thong with a little pink bow nestled just above your ass—

Now that you’re wrapped up in the familiar scent of Matsukawa’s body wash in a way that’s far more intimate than stealing his clothes or falling asleep on his shoulder on the couch—

Now that you know he’s seconds away from seeing you like this in his bed, from slipping his fingers beneath your skirt—

Well, you can already feel it—the slick, sticky arousal soaking its way into your panties. 

“Wow,” Matsukawa murmurs as he walks in, striding over to the foot of the bed. “Nice socks.”

You go to roll over, suddenly feeling a little self-conscious, and he shakes his head. “No, stay like that.”

Turning back onto your stomach, you push your phone aside, hugging one of his pillows to your face—though you almost regret it when you subsequently end up burying your nose in the warm and admittedly dizzying scent of him once more. Meanwhile, you feel the mattress dip as he climbs atop it. 

“If at any point you want me to stop, let me know, okay?”

You nod, and he slowly starts to run his hands up the backs of your thighs, stopping just shy of the hem of your skirt. 

“Didn’t you wear this to that costume party at Oikawa’s a few years ago?”

The first and only time you wore it, given how its meager length leaves almost nothing to the imagination. 

“Yeah,” you laugh, though it’s a little weak, given the way he’s now rubbing soothing circles with his thumbs against the inside of your thighs. 

Unintentionally, you spread your legs somewhat for him at the sensation, toes curling. He chuckles quietly. 

Matsukawa’s fingers finally slide up your skirt, his large hands resting on either of your ass cheeks. You try to fight the sudden urge to arch your spine into his touch. 

“Is this still okay?”

You nod, and he squeezes. 

A moan slips out past your lips before you can stop it. 

“Oh,” you breathe out, fingers grasping his silky dark green sheets for purchase as he begins to massage the globes of your ass. 

“Does that feel good?” he asks. 

He squeezes a little harder, and there’s a euphoric release of tension that seeps through your muscles.

“So good,” you mumble, face pressed sideways against his pillow. Which you may or may not have drooled on. 

Cool air licks and settles against your backside as Matsukawa grasps your skirt and pushes it out of the way. Your thong tightens against your skin with tension for a moment, snapping back lightly once he lets it go.

Sliding his palm down the center of your ass, he brings his hand back to your thighs and stretches his fingers outward, effectively spreading your legs further. You inhale, toes pressing down into the mattress at the foot of the bed. 

“Oh, do you want me to take these off?” he pauses, idly toying with the string of your thong. 

And while it would certainly be easier, there’s something about the evidence of your arousal soaking into the material, something about the way the lace tugs against your skin—

You shake your head. 

“Good, the bow is cute.”

He runs a finger over the delicate piece of ribbon, and you’re thankful he can’t see the embarrassing way you swallow in response. 

“Is flattery a part of the process?” you ask. 

You can almost hear the grin on his face as he slowly feathers a finger against the wet spot on your panties and replies, “Is it not working?”

“You’re terrible,” you laugh, despite the shiver that runs through you. 

“Save your breath.”

You turn slightly to look back at him, brows furrowed. “For wha—“

Your words are cut off by the moan that crawls up your throat without warning as the pad of Matsukawa’s middle finger suddenly slides down the length of your creamy slit. 

It catches you off guard, how good that little bit of contact feels. How sensitive you are for him. How—

“Jesus fucking Christ, you’re wet,” he murmurs, one digit now circling around the rim of your puffy, fluttering entrance while another long finger draws through your folds once more. 

He’s hardly doing anything, and it already sounds obscene. 

Your chest burns, and your heart thunders in your chest as you find yourself arching your ass up off of the bed. The skirt flops back down over your backside in the process, and Matsukawa’s quick to push it back out of the way, his large hand pressing into the small of your back. 

The pillow case grows more damp against your cheek as you quietly pant against it. 

“Matsukawa,” you whine, hips pressing backward again as he ghosts a finger over your swollen clit before dragging two digits back through your folds. Your cunt aches. 

“You have to tell me if you don’t like how it feels, okay?”

He runs his thumb across your dripping hole. 

“Matsukawa,” you gasp again, one hand tightly grasping the top edge of the mattress. 

“Just tell me to stop, and I will,” he promises, slipping the tip of a finger into your entrance. Barely past the fingernail. 

“Issei, please,” you nearly sob, spreading your legs even further for him. “Don’t—don’t stop.”

He lets out a noisy, rough exhale. One that’s a stark contrast to his easy, syrupy tone. 

But you can hardly hear it as he slides his finger into your cunt, not stopping until he’s at the last knuckle. 

You can hardly hear it over the desperate, needy moan that he drags out of you on one finger alone. 

Matsukawa takes his time exploring your tight inner walls, alternating between pumping his finger in and out while you keen for him and keeping it lodged inside as he curls and strokes your wet channel. 

It’s never felt like this. 

Not with anyone. 

Not even with your own fingers. 

But this—

It feels like you’re burning from the inside out, like your nerves are on the verge of going up in flames. 

It’s just one long, deft finger sliding in and out of the eager, needy grip of your pussy. Your tight, soaking wet pussy that’s nowhere near full enough yet still pulsing and dripping with pleasure all the same. 

It’s just a single finger, and yet your voice is going hoarse from the moans tumbling from your lips, the repeated whimpers of Matsukawa’s name as your sticky arousal slides down the palm of his hand. 

“You’re so fucking wet,” he rasps, voice a little rougher than it was before. 

“I’m probably making a mess all over your bed,” you mutter against the pillow. 

“Good,” you swear you hear him breathe out before he asks, “Still overrated?” His free hand slides beneath the waistband of your thong,  wrapping around your hip bone. 

“It’s never, I’ve never—“ you gasp. 

“Because you sleep with guys who do it for themselves, who see it as a necessity to getting their dick inside of you,” Matsukawa replies in a calm tone that’s a stark contrast to the way you’re unravelling beneath him. “I just want you to feel good. This isn’t about me.”

And you’ve also never been fingered like this—face down, prone. With your pebbled nipples rubbing against your lace bralette and a too-short skirt rucked up around your waist. In a sopping wet thong that keeps rubbing against your clit every time Matsukawa nudges it out of the way, with thigh high socks that continue to slip down lower and lower as you writhe in pleasure against the mattress. 

You’ve never been fingered by Matsukawa Issei. Your roommate and your best friend who’s a little too handsome for his own good. Who you’ve had more wet dreams about than you can count. 

Matsukawa Issei and his stupidly long, dexterous fingers. Two of which are now stuffed in your tight hole, massaging your inner walls while you drool on his pillow like it’s his cock that’s stuffed inside of you instead. 

Matsukawa Issei, who’s somehow on the verge of making you forget every dick you’ve ever had inside of you by fucking you with his fingers and his fingers alone. 

“Don’t flatter me that much yet, not till I make you come,” he murmurs, stroking your throbbing clit. 

And oh—you fucking said that last bit out loud. 

Not that you can bring yourself to care when the coil of heat in your gut is wrapped so tight you can hardly breathe. Every muscle in your body tenses under the liquid pleasure that sears its way down your spine with a bite that has you trembling, sheets slipping beneath the feeble grasp of your shaking hands. 

You end up pushing yourself onto your knees as Matsukawa purposely slows his pace, like he’s not ready for you to come yet. Like he wants to edge you until the whole goddamn mattress is soaked.

“Issei,” you whimper in a small, breathless voice that you can hardly believe is your own. 

And suddenly you find yourself being tugged backwards into his lap, your legs spread, your back to his chest. You barely have time to marvel over the feeling of his hard cock pressing into your ass through his pants, not when his lips ghost against the shell of your ear before he rests his chin against your shoulder. 

Matsukawa slides his fingers back inside of you, and you moan at the angle, at the way his mouth ends up tucked into the crook of your neck when you roll your hips into his touch. His lips are hot against your skin as he traces the column of your neck, cunt squelching wetly while your pussy greedily takes in the stretch of his digits over and over. 

And then he presses a hot, open-mouthed kiss to your pulse point, biting and sucking at the sensitive spot while your cunt throbs, as you shake with a full-body shiver, as the damn of pleasure inside of you snaps and overflows with an orgasm that leaves tears in your eyes as you sob his name. 

Matsukawa tilts your chin and finds your mouth with his, claiming your lips in a messy, spit-soaked kiss as you ride out your climax. 

It’s only once you stop shuddering in pleasure that you remember how hard he felt beneath you, and you go to slip a hand between your bodies—

“It’s okay,” he exhales, sounding just as out of breath as you feel.

“You don’t want me to—“ You try not to sound as disappointed as you feel over his sudden rejection.

His eyes go a little wide. “No, no. No, it’s that. I just…uh…I already…”

You blink at him. “I didn’t think that was actually a thing that happens.”

Did he really just come in his—

Matsukawa rubs the back of his neck, biting his bottom lip. “It’s never happened to me before, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Oh?”

For some reason, you feel more than a little smug at these words.

“First time for everything I guess,” he grins.

“Overrated?” you ask coyly, warmth swelling in your chest.

Matsukawa shakes his head, lips brushing against yours when he leans in and murmurs against your mouth, “Definitely not.”

[fushiguruuzzzz]

SEMI-ANONYMOUS LOVER BOY .ᐟ | valentines special

read to the end to find out…

cw: crude language/humour, ignore timestamps

gen tags: @sh0ot1ngst4r @azinniyaa @kashee-h @fiannee @bubybubsters @lizbix @mayyhaps @adoresia @gumims @cinnamxnangel @aldebrana

[ktsumu]

18+ NSFT MDNI. POLY MATSUHANA. ALCOHOL.

“What do you mean you don’t like making out?”

Makki looks at you like you’ve betrayed him, on his side of the couch with his half-full beer can in hand. “That’s the best part!”

You shrug. “Dunno. Just never been with the right person, I guess.”

“That’s some bullshit. Guys don’t even know how to kiss a girl right? We used to hunt, you know—“

“Makki sucks at it, too,” Issei chimes, leaning against the other end of the couch with his own can half-empty. He nurses it in one hand, lazily plays with a curl in the other. “Can’t say shit.”

“What the fuck? I’m such a good kisser,”

“You—“

“Wait, why do you know how good or bad he is?” you ask, turning towards Issei on your left.

Over your head, he and Makki share a grin.

“Actually? Forget I asked.”

“Don’t be green, friends kiss all the time.”

“Yeah, sure.”

You slide your back down the couch, crossing your arms over your chest as you focus back on the movie playing on the TV. Your cheeks feel hot.

You’re aware of their legs craned out to rest on the coffee table, a set on either side of you. You’re watching them out of your line of view, but when Makki’s head cranes back over the couch to look at the man to your left, you lose track of them.

They’re bickering, you can tell. Issei keeps breathing out little laughs and Makki’s making obscene hand gestures, shaking the cushions when he tries to reach behind you and smack him.

It’s the fifth time the couch jerks that you groan, pushing yourself back upright to break them up.

“Can you not?” you groan. “I’m trying to finish the movie?”

“I’ll stop when he admits I’m not a shit kisser.”

“Too much tongue, babe.”

“I was drunk!”

You swallow. “You’re probably both good kissers, okay? Settle it at that.”

They quiet after that.

The room gets quiet, save for the wind coming through the window and the movie playing still. There’s a steady picking on fraying cushion behind you, no doubt from Makki’s antsy hand.

“You think we’re both good?” Issei prods.

“Sure. Whatever floats your guys’ boats.”

“You don’t sound convinced.”

“How would I know, Issei?”

The three of you— you’re close enough friends by now that silence is rarely awkward, but you’re not dumb. You know what hole you just dug.

Dig your grave and lie in it, or whatever.

“You wanna find out, then?” he asks, maybe a little quieter if you’re paying close attention.

Makki is hot against your other side, leaning ahead to see the both of you as good as he can. You slink back a little into the sofa— you’re in deep literally and metaphorically.

Issei slips his hand up your leg, watching your lips part the second he sets his eyes on yours. It stays on the backside, coming back up to skip over your ass, resting on your back.

His other hand is hot on the side of your face, tilting your chin up so you’re almost touching him.

“Can I show you something?”

You huff a quick breath, and nod even quicker.

Issei takes you whole, it doesn’t feel like just a kiss. It’s not just lips, even though it starts that way— it’s a graze of his teeth against your jaw before he steals your breath away that makes you slump down the couch, an exchange of power that gives your all to him.

He’s languid and slow, tongue taunting yours and his hand dauntingly large on your side. Makki’s slips beneath his and then under your sweater, nails scratching beneath your navel as they span over your skin.

You forget to breathe. He tastes like espresso and a good time. You lose track of whose hands are which. You don’t know anyone but them. You forget any other lips who have ever tasted yours.

When you reach up into his hair, knotting your knuckles in his curls, Makki takes the back of your neck and pulls you back. You’re looking at Issei, but he doesn’t look mad.

He’s smiling. You blink. You’re looking at Makki, now, and he’s smiling too.

“My turn?” He says it like a question. He might be saying it like he’s begging.

Makki moves so he’s just about on top of you, coming from above when you lean your head back to see him from below. He’s quicker than Issei, hard against your teeth and against your thigh, dizzying in how he pushes and pulls, rutting against you like he’s always wanted this.

Issei tugs your leg over his, smoothing his hand up the inside of it, skipping over where you’re too sheepish to say you want it.

It rests on your stomach, fingertips dipping beneath your waistband as Makki groans so low it vibrates in your throat. They’re playing give and take with you, back and forth like magnets, closing in and giving you space again like a corset.

Issei’s hand cups your chest and Makki’s rests on your throat. You’re being swallowed whole, and all you want them to do is spit you up and do it all over again.

Then, the storm breaks, and when you come to, they’re starry-eyed and staring at you.

“What?” you gasp.

You turn your head back and forth, looking between them like you’re checking your blind spots. You still think somethings gonna come out of nowhere and hit you; bring you back to reality.

“Nothing,” Issei shrugs. But, he leans back. “Do you wanna stay overnight? Save you a drive in the dark.”

They surround you. They encapsulate you differently, like smoke and water. You’re hot and all too aware of the things you’d say yes to.

Makki’s fingers burn against your shoulder, dragging the collar of your top down your collarbone as you nod.

Issei grins, cheshire and warm. “Mm, good.”

[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]

[luvnami]

need a hand?

author's note ୭ ˚. ᵎᵎ written for suna rintarou, matsukawa issei, and ushijima wakatoshi. set in post-timeskip | kinktober 2024 mlist content warnings ₊˚⊹ handjobs, cumplay, cum eating, dom/sub dynamics, tit sucking, petnames, x fem! reader, ageless/minors dni (18+)

suna rintarou

your darling boyfriend adores your tits. never mind in public or private, suna stares when he gets the chance. he says you can’t blame him, at least not when you have a rack like that. 

“mm- f-fuck!”

the sound of slick skin on skin fills the room. your hand leisurely tugs at suna’s weeping dick, thumb swiping over his sensitive head. you smear his precum as his hips buck at the contact. 

“feels so good,” suna whines. “so fucking good. please, please, don’t stop.”

his legs are thrown across your lap in your shared bed. suna buries his face between your tits, groaning into your chest as you tighten your hand and pump his cock. his fingers dig into your soft flesh, thumb and index finger pinching your nipples. 

his hot breath fans over your left breast when he moans with his mouth open. suna latches onto your nipple, sucking and swirling his tongue as he thrusts shallowly into your hand. his mind is blank. all he wants is to cum on your fist as he sucks on your tits.

you let out a soft noise when suna’s teeth pull on your sensitive nub. his free hand works your right tit, palming you.

“gonna cum, baby?” you breathe.

suna looks up at you with glossy eyes and his cheeks pink. “please? please, wanna cum for you so bad, you feel so good.”

as if you could ever deny him. 

“ah! fuck! mmph! g’nna cum, please- s’close!”

you focus your touch near his head. suna’s mouth closes over your tit again, muffling his moans as his back arches and his toes curl. then he’s cumming all your hand as you work him through his orgasm. 

suna’s lower back feels like it's melting. his head is hazy, blood pumping through his veins as he comes down from his high. you smooth his hair back from his sweaty forehead.

“c’mon baby. one more?” you coo.

suna gasps when you smear his cum back onto his soft cock, using it as lube. the pleasure edges on the border of being too much when you run the pad of your finger over his sticky slit.

“can’t- please, not-”

“aw, baby. please? for me?”

you squeeze his balls and suna sees stars.

matsukawa issei

“shit!” 

matsukawa has been moaning ever since your soft, pretty hands wrapped themselves around his cock. his mouth is ajar, saliva collecting behind his tongue.

“what’s wrong, ‘sei?” you laugh from behind him. “something bothering you?”

you twist your hand over his sensitive, sticky head and he has to physically stop himself from arching his back into your touch. 

“yes, fuck. your hands feel so good,” he gasps. 

matsukawa doesn’t know which hentai you’re trying to recreate again, but that’s the last thing on his mind right now. all hail ero mangakas, honestly. 

your other hand caresses the plane of his chest, pinching his nipple teasingly as matsukawa swats you away. you giggle and rest your chin on his shoulder from behind.

“what? you don't like your nipples played with?” you tease.

“shut up,” he grumbles in reply. 

you pick up the speed as you work at matsukawa’s cock. it’s thick, with a thick vein running along the bottom side. he hisses when your hand grazes his sensitive head.

matsukawa’s head falls back onto your shoulder. he squeezes his eyes shut, letting out shaky breaths. his abs flex and clench as he melts into your touch. he loves it when you play with him like this. not to say that he can’t be the dominating one in bed, but matsukawa thinks it’s stupidly sexy when you take the lead sometimes, too. blame a man for thinking his hot girlfriend pushing him into bed and giving him a handjob is, well, hot. 

“fuck, i’m pretty close,” he pants.

you feel his cock twitch in your hand. your hand creeps up to cup over matsukawa’s mouth. his eyes blow open as his moans become muffled, breath hot against your palm. you hold his head against yours.

“yeah? are you? doesn’t that feel good, ‘sei’?” you whisper into his ear. “wanna cum for me?”

matsukawa cums harder than he ever has before. he lets out a deep groan, legs tensing and twitching as he cums, cums, and cums. some of it lands on his chest as you continue to stroke him, forcing out the last drops. 

“f-fuck,” he gasps when you remove your hand.

his body melts into yours. you kiss dark curls, praising him, and matsukawa thinks he might just bust another load there and then.

ushijima wakatoshi

ushijima’s the kind of guy who prioritises your pleasure before his. sure, joke around about how nice guys finish last, but it’s true. so when you suggest that you help him get off first, ushijima is reluctant. 

“there you go, toshi. that’s it. just relax for me.”

your breath tickles the shell of his ear and ushijima’s brain melts into nothing. your hand works his hard cock, his tip angry and red from the stimulation. 

some part of him feels awkward about giving up control, but god, does it feel good. you sit on his lap, knees on either side of his hips. ushijima’s hands cradle your ass as his breath comes laboured and heavy.

“does that feel good, toshi?”

ushijima’s always had trouble articulating his thoughts coherently. now’s no different, especially when his lips are swollen from kissing yours, and the only thought bouncing around inside of his sex-drunk head is cumming. 

he moans. it’s a low, drawn-out sound, almost sounding like a whine as ushijima buries his face in the crook of your neck. 

“aw, baby, you’re really cute like this,” you coo. 

his face is hot with embarrassment but his thighs twitch and his abs clench, hips thrusting shallowly in time with your hand. 

“wanna cum,” he groans. “please.”

your skin is soft against his. he’s had his fair experience of masturbating when you weren’t around because of work or family, but ushijima’s never liked doing it. he favours finishing with you, cunt butterflying around him and squeezing out his seed. 

you kiss ushijima’s temple. you speed up your pace, earning a strained groan from him. his hands come up to grope at your chest greedily as he grows closer and closer to finishing. 

“g-gonna, shit- cumming, cumming-” 

ushijima bites down on his lower lip as he spills himself all over your fist, his head tilted back slightly as white flashes across his eyes. all he feels is electric pleasure pulsing through his cock. 

he finally lets out a heavy sigh, muscles relaxing all at once. his ears pop as he drifts back to reality. 

“you came so much,” you laugh lightly, glancing down at the cum all over your hand.

as you lift your fingers to your mouth and lick it all off, there’s a glint in ushijima’s eyes. 

“now it’s your turn,” he breathes. 

you yelp as he puts his hand between your legs, touching nothing but wet slick.

[sfznyxio]

-ˋˏ WILDEST FANTASIES ˎˊ

SYNOPSIS. you are irresistible and a source of temptation, especially in his imagination.

CHARACTERS. oikawa tooru, hanamaki takahiro, matsukawa issei, iwaizumi hajime

CONTENT. f!reader. canon-compliant, post-timeskip (2021). smut. 1.8k wc. rewrite of wildest fantasies at my old nsfw blue lock group blog @/bllk-after-dark, moved to haikyuu for an age-appropriate cast. reader is in a relationship with all except makki. seijoh 4 imagine how they would fuck reader. other warnings vary for each section and will be listed there instead because uh, it’s a lot.

VERA. sorry, the power of horny took over. i never read the manga, so i went with the seijoh 4 as the scenarios suit them the most. i struggled with makki and mattsun, so they may seem ooc. i guess I'm celebrating kinktober with this fic lol.

𝄞༉‧₊˚. OIKAWA TOORU

breeding kink, creampie, edging, fingering, jealousy (toward a teammate and kageyama), marking

mine is written on your skin with invisible ink. oikawa fumes at a player from his team talking to you, seemingly enjoying his company when he sees you laughing. he doesn’t experience rage often, but it can get worse when the infamous “king of the court” from the opponent team strikes up a conversation with you.

“what’s with the silent treatment, tooru?” the drive to the hotel is tense, and he treats you like a ghost. he also feels similar, for different reasons. when the two of you arrive at your room, he pins you down on the door with arms above your head and cunt on his knee. lust clouds his eyes as his tongue battles against yours and teeth nips at your throat, leaving a trail of bruises in its wake. 

“craving attention from him, out of all people when i’m here? i’m hurt.” you gasp at the friction of his knee on your cunt. his fingers slip inside, pumping them agonizingly slow as punishment. “think he can fuck you like this? hah, want everyone and that brat to know you’re mine.”

to prolong this type of behavior, you decide to instill delicious images in his head. “oh, how are you gonna show me off then? you’ve already done the hickeys. but what about a ring on my finger? or your cum out of me? or perhaps, a baby in me?”

oikawa pulls his fingers out when you’re nearing an orgasm. the impulse to buy a ring with his salary and propose you live, fuck you in the locker rooms to mark you with his cum, and knock you up so that guy can mind his damn business. he spends the entire night ramming his cock in you to make sure it takes.

“there you are! i had to ask one of your teammates where you were, but he’s so nice that i lost track.” oikawa is back at the court, dazed from his daydreaming. you didn’t notice him blanking out as you’re busy geeking out about his plays. “watching a match live was so exciting! i finally got to see your sets up close. one of the guys from the other team was your underclassman, right? i think he’s good too!”

he shuts you up with a kiss, and the audience reacts in a domino effect. the cameras pan to the two of you; his fans freak out that he is actually taken, and his teammates — as well as him — are in pure disbelief. you wonder why he did that. he looks proud of himself so you say nothing. “there. now the whole world knows.”

𝄞༉‧₊˚. HANAMAKI TAKAHIRO

begging, mutual masturbation, nipple play, phone sex, thoughts of oral sex (f!receiving), toxic relationships (with reader’s ex)

relief washes over him hearing that you broke up with ex over the phone. hanamaki never liked them to begin with, nor does he understand what you see in them. being the good friend he is, he remains civil, painfully. though it’s not as painful as suppressing his sinful thoughts about you squirming under touch, however.

“hey, makki. can you do me a favor?” he loves your voice. you saying his name is his greatest weakness. though it’ll be better to have you moan it in his ears when he rails you into a begging mess. now he feels guilty for harboring these feelings as he promised to only play as the ‘good friend’. but promises break eventually. “can you make me forget about them?”

the lines of friendship blur into indescribable tension. you express your frustration over lack of spice in your sex life, rambling about how badly you want to be fucked on someone’s mouth. the cries of your breasts and clit aching to be touched makes his cock to strain in his pants. sex isn’t a topic you confide in with your friends, but it does not matter now. you called him to forget after all.

“to tell you the truth, you’re driving me crazy,” he sighs with his head on the board while he pumps his length. labored breaths and whimpers are heard on your end. “what if i tell you i’m jerking off to you now, wishing i was inside that pretty pussy of yours? and what about you, wishing my mouth is there too and on your pretty tits to claim what has been mine in the first place?”

“i’m yours, always yours!” your whines turn into squeals, which has him cum on his hand. his body slumps over the edge of his bed, catching his breath alongside you. if you’re here, he would leave more proof that you are forever his with your ex nonexistent in your world. yet it’s all white noise. the entire time he has been spacing out, so you were waiting for an eternity for him to say something.

“hello? earth to makki?” hanamaki realizes the dried stickiness on his hand from his cum. he has been mindlessly jacking off to your voice. “i asked if you could do me a favor but i’d rather stop by your place to cool off. is it okay if i come over?”

“yeah. see you.” you thank him before hanging up. hanamaki tosses his phone away, contemplating what he has done. never, ever will he do this again and vows to not speak on it. all he can do is to maintain his role to comfort you through your breakup. he will do whatever it takes to prove he is indeed the better choice. there will be the day where you’re his for the taking.

𝄞༉‧₊˚. MATSUKAWA ISSEI

body worship, lap dance, lingerie, riding, sex toys (vibrator), strip tease, voyeurism

speechless is his reaction to you clad in lace lingerie. matsukawa develops a strong urge to impale you on his cock that is strained in his pants, just like how his arms are at the sides of his seat. for now he can only ogle at your body, a temptation for him to give into his desires, along with your alluring expressions.

the lingerie surprise tips him over the edge. he follows your fingers trail from your breasts to your clit, agonized by the drag of one of them along the lips back and forth. he grips his seat so hard he could feel the bones of his hands break. oh how he wants you so badly, but being the menace you are, you insist to stay patient until the end of your performance.

“not yet. keep your eyes on me.” you lift his chain to face you, with your mouth ghosting over his. how can he also enjoy the sight when you are torturing him with the sway of your hips, the flex of your thighs, and the bra straps hanging off your shoulders? and when you grind on his bulge with a vibrator in you which is your source of pleasure instead?

he finds himself matching your rhythm with an arm around your waist and the other cradling your head, kissing you as if his life depends on it. as clothes fly left and right, he yanks out your vibrator coated with your slick and finally plunges you onto him, having you seated for his show. how the tables have turned. now you’re the one being tortured, pounded with quick upward thrusts from him.

“now for the grand finale.” despite your protests to slow down, he wants to relish your body which is contorting in pleasure through the mirrors. a multitude of thrusts later, he reaches his climax and feels you clench, making sure you didn’t miss a single drop. it’s a shame that time goes by fast, because he sure wants to see your body arch for him over and over again.

“you know, it’s rude to stare without saying anything.” loud noises flood his ears. matsukawa is at the mall with you to help you buy new clothes to spice up your wardrobe. though when you mean by ‘spice up’, he does not expect to see you in lace lingerie at the fitting rooms. “so, uh… what do you think?”

matsukawa thinks that you may have a hidden agenda to seduce him, or just trying out the lingerie for fun. he marvels at how it suits your body, making you nervous. an idea pops into his head and whispers into the shell of your ear. “hm, not sure. why don’t you buy and put it on tonight for me so i can see it better?”

𝄞༉‧₊˚. IWAIZUMI HAJIME

aftercare, consent, insecurities, loss of virginity, missionary, petnames (baby), praise

sorry is your automatic reply when iwaizumi hints at wanting sex. you’re a virgin, so thoughts of being unable to satisfy someone experienced are rooted into your head. on the contrary, it’s a massive turn on. since it is your first time, he wants to make it extra special. he’s more excited than he should be so he tries to tone it down to not scare you.

you stare at him like a lost puppy as your partner reaches for your face. he smirks at how entranced you are when his fingers glide to your chin and then over your lips. he kisses you hard that you’re out of breath and pushes you to the bed. you begin to breathe normally again as he takes off his shirt, making his heart flutter, knowing that his body is for your eyes only.

“you can keep going,” you tell him when he checks up on you. with the slight encouragement of his hand drawing circles on your skin, you take off your shirt as well so he can explore more of your body. the two of you eventually strip yourselves bare while devouring each other with tongue and spit.

“squeeze if you want to stop.” your hand is intertwined with his, getting ready to signal for the sake of your safety. he penetrates you slowly, cock buried to the hilt inside, blabbering about how you’re taking him so well and swearing he’ll cum sooner than expected. the pitch of your moans is rising higher and higher. you hate how your sounds it seems by crashing your lips on his, but it tells him that he has done his job right.

“shit, baby. you’re absolutely perfect for me. how is this possible— agh,” iwaizumi hisses as he spills inside you. you’re now exhausted, sensitive from the caresses on your curves and kisses on your hands. this is what he would like to happen, however the next time he blinks, you’re lying beside him fully clothed.

“haji? you’re not saying anything.” you avert your gaze from his. you’re ashamed of literally pushing him away, believing that he’ll take offense judging from his silence. “i didn’t mean to do that. it happened so fast that i freaked out. can we start over and… start a little bit slower?”

“sure. let’s take things a little bit slower.” iwaizumi kisses your forehead to reassure you that you haven’t done anything wrong. somehow you’ve become bold, initiating the kiss and sneaking your hands under his shirt unconsciously. you retract from the sudden move, but he gestures to you to keep going. he’s so weak for you; he’ll do anything to make you happy.

[teamatsumu]

all eyes on you. (seijoh 4 x reader)

warnings: pure smut, not even an iota of plot, swearing, fem!reader, voyeurism, fingering, masturbation, implied group sex, slight degradation

word count: 1k

tags: @keiva1000 @kindnessspreads @msbyomimi @sleepyxxhead

“H-Hajime,” Your voice trembles and breaks, body arched and wound up tight. Your nails dig into his forearms enough to leave marks, but you’re not sure he minds, considering his fingers only speed up inside you and he moans deliciously in your ear.

Iwaizumi has your back against his chest, and your legs hooked over his. He spreads his legs, simultaneously spreading yours, his unoccupied arm wrapped tight around your waist to hold you in place and keep you nice and open for the three pairs of hungry eyes that are trained on your naked, sweaty body.

“Touch her clit,” Hanamaki whispers, his hand working over his own exposed cock. He is leaning back on the couch before you, looking more bored than anything, but his eyes are sizzling with heat, unblinking, and his hand on his cock is urgent. Your breath stutters, and you’re not sure if it’s because of his words or because Iwaizumi chooses that moment to curl his fingers inside you.

“Don’t tell me how to please my girlfriend.” Iwaizumi grunts back, free hand reaching up to cup at your breast almost possessively. Nevertheless, his fingers slide out of you with a wet squelch and reach up to toy at your engorged clit. Your legs jerk and you gasp at the change in sensations.

“Don’t get snarky, Iwa-chan.” Oikawa’s voice does not match the playfulness of his words. It is husky and low, and he too is playing with his erection. The head is deep pink and weeping with precum, proudly showing just how aroused he is. How can he not be? With the show Iwaizumi is using you to put on.

“She loves it so much, see? Look how pretty she looks.” Oikawa continues, voice turning softer now, more teasing. It almost doesn’t feel like a compliment. Like he is demeaning you, but it only turns you on even more. You can’t believe this is something you enjoy, the jeering way he was talking about you. Iwaizumi never did that. You whine, eyebrows creasing.

“She likes that.” Matsukawa somehow sounds just as sharp and teasing as Oikawa. He has been quiet this whole time, only watching. He hadn’t even undressed, choosing to instead stick his hand in his pants and slowly stroke over himself. Deep down, you longed to see his cock too, knowing because of the jokes the boys made over the years that he was more than well endowed. But you are too shy to voice your desire. You are already doing something you couldn’t have imagined in a million years.

“You assholes are lucky you’re even watching this.” Iwaizumi quipped. “Don’t be ungrateful.”

He keeps his fingers moving on your clit, unwinding his other arm from around you to fill up your empty hole again. You gasp and arch again, one arm reaching back to grip tight on his hair while the other continues clawing at his skin.

“Tell me how you feel, baby.” He coos, knowing you are getting closer.

“Tell us how you feel.” Oikawa interjects, grinning when Iwaizumi shoots him a glare. His hand speeds up, anticipating your release and wanting to reach his high at the same time.

“I-” You weep, tears escaping your eyes to coat your cheeks instead. “I- Hajime!”

“Sshh, I’ve got you.” Hajime kisses the skin just below your ear, a spot that he knows is sensitive. “You’re doing so good, baby. God, you’re so fucking beautiful. Everyone’s looking at you. You’re so sexy.”

“You are, Y/N-chan.” Oikawa speaks again. “Can’t believe I’ve never seen you like this before. Been missing out.”

“Wish it was me,” Hanamaki chimed in. “Wonder what your pretty pussy would feel like on my cock.”

“Watch it.” Iwaizumi warned, but you moaned loudly, clamping down hard on his fingers. Matsukawa snickered.

“You’ve got a whore on your hands, Iwa.” He commented. “She fucking loves the thought of it. Isn’t that right?”

He leans forward, hand moving faster and faster inside his jeans. His words shock you, he is so crass. But it sends a current zipping down your torso, settling like heat in the pit of your stomach. Iwaizumi rubbed hard against your clit, curling his fingers against your spot.

“You want their cocks?” Iwaizumi groans into the shell of your ear, picking up on how aroused you are getting. “You little slut. You’re not satisfied by just me. You’re not even satisfied by them watching. You need them to fuck you.”

You wail as you come, body winding tight as electricity runs up your spine and clutches tight at your lungs. You try to close your legs, to stop Hajime’s hands as they continue to abuse your sloppy pussy. He doesn’t let you, though. His legs hold yours in place as he watches your body writhe. There are groans and curses, as one man after another cums after you, reaching their limit at the sight of your undulating torso, your curled toes, your jaw slacked and your tears still flowing.

Iwaizumi finally pulls his fingers out, running his drenched hand over your sensitive cunt. You jump and whine, trying to push him away, but your weakened limbs are no match for him. He brings his hand down, spanking your pussy and making you yelp.

“Behave,” Iwaizumi nibbles at your earlobe. “Be nice. We have guests.”

Your eyes finally find your audience, their flushed cheeks and hazy eyes. You immediately notice the white that coats their cocks, their hands, some traveling up their bare fronts. You flush at the sight, and you feel something in your core stir again.

Iwaizumi pats your thigh, closing his legs and encouraging you to move. He manhandles you to face him, bringing your focus down to his still rock hard cock. Your breath hitches at the little smirk on his face.

“C’mon, baby. Take care of me. And if these idiots wanna keep watching, they’re welcome to.”

No one moves from the couch, straightening to eye the show you will put on next.

[nectardaddy]

I LOVE THE PUCK OUTTA YOU. . . texts between hockey player! mattsun and his adorable partner

warnings/notes : suggestive, blood + fighting (it's hockey so…), crude/sexual humor, one singular joke about boobs but the rest in gender neutral, all pictures are men from the nhl and not random ass people I swear, yes I know I I used the wrong your please don't stone me I am too lazy to fix it, for you @kameyyy <3

gen taglist (open, form is here)

@phoenix-eclipses @wyrcan @yogurtkags @bakery-anon @crypt-0rchid

@hyunteru @kameyyy @nekozaki @angelichwv @a-girl-cant-decide-on-a-name 

@localgaytrainwreck @standcom @bokutoko @loveyislost @shortcakebaby 

@wakashudou @jadebat7 @cherrysurf @softpia @thesmithslvr17

[lxnarphase]

out of all the big dick havers who tell you 'you can take it, baby,' matsukawa issei is NOT one of them

no, he's telling you 'aww, you can't take all of it, you're too tiny,' and 'mm, 's gonna break you, hun'

he's so so mean to you, but its only because he likes that it makes you mad, that it pisses you off and just makes you try even harder to get halfway on his cock without his help, determined to prove him wrong and wipe his stupid sleazy grin off his face

[cxvii666]

no context situationship txts w/ ten:

FEATURING!

HANTA SERO, suguru geto, natsuo todoroki, rintarou suna, keigo takami, eren yeager, tomura shigaraki, jean kirstein, hitoshi shinsou, testurou kuroo, katsuki bakugou, issei matsukawa, toge inumaki + ur favs ofc

[solvisun]

012125. cw | none. just fluff. 731 wc. notes | i got my first strike YEY 🧑‍🦲🔫 @phantasmaebg nighty night zzz

matsukawa issei isn’t the type to openly gush over people, though that’s not the same to say that he doesn’t. you know this. because he’s always gushing about you in his own way, the only form you’ve learned by heart, one you’ve come to fully adore.

when he spotted you across the room, he swore his chest tightened in a way he’d never admit out loud. still, his affection screams — in the spaces that reach you to understand without fail, how honest his eyes are, an open journal of sorts.

you were curled up on the couch, sinking deep into your phone in your hands, your messy hair thrown into a half-lopsided bun, only the upper parts alongside your bangs, sweatpants slung low on your hips, stomach looking so delicate & slightly revealed under your sleeveless top, and headphones perched lazily over your ears.

you look half-asleep, groggy. the sunlight filtering through the windows renders your tired eyes to look more dreamy. your whole skin glowing, lashes glimmer like specks of jewels. you yawn, looking soft and untouched and undone.

something about you like this—so completely yourself—has his heart diving over itself. he has no idea how you managed to look so utterly captivating without trying. his heartbeat races when you stood up, unaware of his presence. and you head to the kitchen, probably going to make something really delicious—like always.

he watches you in quiet reverence, lips pulling a slow grin, nothing but adoration in his gaze.

his arms crossed over his chest, letting the sight of you etch itself into his memory. you’re too caught up in whatever quiet ritual you’ve set out to do in the kitchen, and he finds himself enamored by the way you move—relaxed, deliberate, but so distinctly you.

he always think he loved you most in moments like these, where there was no effort, no pretense, just you being you.

you stopped in front of the counter, reaching for something on the shelf, and the hem of your sleeveless top lifted just slightly. that little sliver of skin caught the light in the gentlest way, and matsukawa felt his restraint falter.

before he knew it, he was behind you, large hands sliding around your waist with the familiarity of someone who’d done it a hundred times before.

you stiffen slightly at first, but then you easily settle yourself, the familiar warmth of his palms sending a shiver of comfort through you. “issei,” you murmur, your voice soft and tinged with sleep, “when’d you get here?”

he tugs the side of your headphones down as you turn to look at him.

“just now,” his voice low and husky, lips curling into a smirk you can’t see. “you looked too good on your own, had to come ruin it.”

you huff, chuckling, your body leaning instinctively into his as his arms loop around your waist, pulling you flush against him. “i haven’t even washed my face yet,” you mutter, reaching up to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

“doesn’t matter. you’re cute when you’re half-dead, y’know?”

you rolled your eyes, but before you could reply, he leaned in, resting his forehead to the back of your head, then he lowers himself, lips coming to plant tender kisses on your temple, a gentle nibble on your ear, and a shuddering warm peck to your nape.

this makes your cheeks flush, but you shake your head, focusing instead on the task at hand. “if you’re gonna keep distracting me, at least help me cook something,” you say, trying to sound stern but failing—quite horribly, actually— because he pulls you impossibly closer, practically snuggling against you so shamelessly.

“come take a nap with me instead.”

“issei.”

“please. i just wanna—” he inhales, a long, deep breath, and exhales, you feel his chest against your back rise and fall in result, “you’re the only thing i wanna see all day.”

and just like that, any lingering grogginess thawed away, like popsicles melting from the beautiful warmth of everything. like his touch, especially his touch, along the undertones of intensity laced by his words. you turn slightly in his arms, your hand reaching up to playfully flick his forehead, though your smile betrays so many parts of you.

“you’re impossible.”

“yeah? impossible for you, miss.” he quipped back, smiling tenfold.

you wouldn’t have it any other way.

[captain-hawks]

"issei?"

matsukawa looks away from the television and down into his lap, where you're currently half asleep with your head pillowed on his right thigh.

his flannel shirt rests over you like a blanket, and you tiredly curl your fingers against the soft, dark green material, enjoying the way the scent of his cologne lingers on it.

you blink up at your roommate, at his dark, tousled curls, at the fond way he's smiling down at you as he waits for you to continue.

"i'm going to miss stealing your shirts and falling asleep on you and drooling on your pants."

you laugh as you say it, but there's a twinge in your heart that's been aching for days.

his brows furrow, his handsome features twisting in confusion. "what, am i dying or something?"

"well, no, but..." you trail off, and he waits.

"but..."

"your ex stopped by last week."

he makes a face. "she did."

your chest hurts.

you've been roommates with matsukawa for three years, since he moved into the second bedroom in your apartment when your roommate left for grad school. he couldn't afford the place he'd been renting with his ex on a single income, so it worked in your favor and his.

and while you were good friends before, since high school, you've grown inexplicably closer since.

closer in a way that makes your next words stick to the back of your throat and the valley of your tongue like solidified honey.

"and now that she's moved back to miyagi, well...i know the whole reason she broke up with you was because she was leaving. and i'm sure now she wants to get back toge—"

"that's not why we broke up," he interrupts you.

"it's not?"

"i broke up with her."

this time, you're the one with a face that's twisting in confusion.

"she did show up here the other day because she wanted to get back together. i don't even know how she got this address. but i've been ignoring all of her texts and calls for weeks."

oh.

"but i told her i don't want to get back together."

what?

"why?" you breathe out, heart thudding oddly in your chest.

matsukawa looks up at the ceiling for a moment, breathing in through his nose slowly, like he's thinking about his next words carefully.

when he glances back down at you, there's an expression on his face that you can't quite read, one that leaves you feeling dizzy and warm.

"i guess i realized that maybe i don't really like thinking about you stealing some other guy's shirts and falling asleep in some other guy's lap."