#matsukawa issei x reader

[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.

[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 2]

word count: 1756 || avg. reading time: 8 mins.

pairing: University AU!Matsukawa x chubby!Reader

genre: angst

warnings: bullying

[part 1]

The following days were miserable. Between dodging Matsukawa lurking outside your dorm and having to see him in most of your seminars and lectures it was hard to pretend that you didn’t care, much to the delight of the fellow students who apparently had nothing better to do or collectively lost their WiFi and were starved for entertainment. They threw glances between the two of you as if following a tennis match, although you were stubbornly pretending to follow the lesson while Issei just listlessly stared at his closed book.

He had tried to talk to you after lectures, during lunch, or when he ran into you at the convenience store but to no avail. You remained strong, frequently reminding yourself that everything from your first kiss to the first time sleeping together was solely done to win a bet. A bet! To him, you were nothing more than some easily manipulated, naive girl from a country he probably didn’t even know how to spell. The three crumpled notes from that day were still at the bottom of your trash can, unread, and now buried under more paper scraps, gum wrappers, and empty juice boxes. Your roommate hadn’t noticed or questioned why you didn’t leave in the evenings anymore to go on dates. Chances were that she had read about the whole thing online.

You were tired of it all. The initial burst of energy you felt, fueled by nothing but spite, had finally ebbed away and at this point, Christmas was drawing nearer and nearer and you ran on fumes. Having tried to deep dive into homework and assignments had left you fatigued and vulnerable, so it came to no surprise that a month after the break up you couldn’t take it anymore. You had figured that the other students would eventually move on to the next shiny thing but not so. A small group of boys and girls stood in front of the library with coffee cups steaming in their hands. You braced yourself inwardly. You just wanted to quickly return a book and then you’d be on your way again. When you approached them they interrupted their conversation to very obviously look you up and down as if judging your post-break-up fashion choices.

“I just knew there had to be a reason for him dating her.”, one of them said, deliberately loud enough for you to hear.

“Oh my god, I know right? I can’t believe she fell for it. I mean, what would someone like him ever see in someone like her.”, another piped up.

“Honestly kudos to him, I dunno if I could have gotten it up with her in bed.” They laughed.

You stopped on your way up the stairs. Matsukawa stood in front of you just coming out of the building, a tattered, well-annotated book in hand and his bag half-hearted slung over his shoulder.

The group of friends gasped quietly and hushed each other, waiting.

“Y/n…”, Issei said softly, then snapped at the others, “Don’t you have somewhere to be?!”

They laughed again but hurried inside.

“Y/-“

He couldn’t even finish the word. You had already turned around and walked away. And he would have let you get the space you needed if he didn’t see you cry. Readjusting his bag he slowly made his way down the steps and followed you, a couple of meters behind.

Whenever you missed your family he had tried to bring a bit of home to you with a traditional dish he knew you loved - that he usually messed up - or by watching a Disney movie in your native language while snuggling up on his bed under a blanket. But what had helped you most of all when you were upset was always a simple hug. And he never let go first. He made sure that you knew he would hold you as long as you needed. When you first told him you loved him he was wracked with guilt. He had since come to realize how messed up the whole thing was and tried to get out of it. He lied when his friends asked him if he had completed the bet but his roommate had only patted him on the back and accused him of being modest. And he, Issei, had forced a smile and accepted the money feeling like the most disgusting person in the world. The money still sat untouched in his sock drawer. He didn’t want to use it. He felt ashamed of himself but whenever he spent time with you he was weirdly glad that he agreed to the bet. Otherwise, who knows if he would have walked up to you as he had. Privately, to make himself feel better, he thought, of course he would have.

He would have noticed eventually how amazing you were.

He would have eventually seen how much you two had in common, that in all actuality you were his dream girl.

He would have. Eventually. Wouldn’t he?

Probably not, he had to admit. Ever since puberty hit him like a truck he walked around with a newfound level of confidence. This must have been what it was like for Oikawa back then - girls doing a double take and smiling when they saw him, little admiring love notes tucked quickly into his workbook when he wasn’t looking. All the attention slowly rose to his head and he became arrogant, leading to agreeing to a bet he would have punched his friends for in high school.

Hands in his pockets and breath forming little clouds in front of him, Issei’s heart broke all over again when he caught a small sound from you like a sniffle or a sob. As if on reflex his hand slid into the front of his bag to check for tissues, then remembered you probably wouldn’t accept them.

You finally came to a halt at a bench near your dorm. You spun around and stared at him icily through red puffy eyes.

“Stop following me. You know this is creepy, right?”

“I prefer to see it as romantic.”

You scoffed. “It’s only romantic if feelings are reciprocated.”

He swallowed hard. “… I deserved that.” Then he reached into his bag and retrieved a water bottle, walked a little closer, and held it out.

“Here, drink something. I can see you squinting like you do when you’re about to get a massive headache, come on.”

You had a retort ready to launch but your head was starting to pound from the crying so with a scowl you took it and gulped down a few sips.

“None of this makes what you did okay.”, you said, unwavering.

He nodded. “I know. - Can I hold you anyway? Just til you stop crying.”

His question made new tears well in your eyes and he closed the gap between you. Before he hugged you, he hesitated in case you would kick and scream if he did. When you only continued to cry he wrapped his arms around you. At first, it was like hugging a mannequin. Then he felt you shiver and sob harder and he squeezed you tighter.

This, the warmth of him, smell of him, soothing murmurs in your ear, made it all too easy to forget for a moment why he wasn’t yours anymore.

You subconsciously grabbed onto his jacket and he started slowly swaying from side to side. He missed you so damn much. His eyes began to sting.

And on reflex like he always had, he pressed his lips against your temple, then against your cheek, then your lips. You stiffened for a moment, then returned the kiss. With his heart swelling in his chest, he cupped your cheeks to wipe away the tears, but you were already pushing him away.

“No! You can’t just… this is not okay. You hurt me! You … you broke my heart! I feel embarrassed! And pathetic. And betrayed! Don't you understand?!”

His vision blurred and he lowered his head to stare at your shoes again to hide that he started crying as well. He just nodded at first, then took a shallow breath to calm down a little.

“I know.”, he said, his voice thick and raspy. He cleared his throat, “What I did was horrible. And immature. And there is no way I can take it back. But I do love you.”

“Tch.”

“So much. I don’t want to be without you.”

“Would you give me another chance?”, you asked suddenly.

He looked up. “What?”

“If you were in my shoes. If I did to you what you did to me. Could you just get over that? Imagine if someone way out of your league started flirting with you because they thought it was funny. Because they wanted to see if they could make you fall in love. For fun.”

“That’s not… I’m so so sorry, Y/n.”

“Stop saying that!”

“I don’t know what else to do! Please, tell me, I’ll do anything!”

“There is nothing you can do! I told you it’s over!”

“I refuse to believe that! Let me show you how much I love you! I know that some part of you still loves me, too. And I know you’ll forgive me eventually because you’re a much better person than I am.”

“I think you severely underestimate just how petty I can be and how much I love holding grudges.”, you retorted and the smallest smile twitched on his lips.

There was a pause in which his expression turned gentler again and he used the sleeve of his jacket to mop up the tears gathering on his chin. “Tell me what I can do.”

“Actually show me that you’re sorry? - And find better friends.”

“Done.”

“I’m serious.”

“So am I.”, he said firmly, “You’ll see.”

“Hm hm.”, you said doubtfully and held out the bottle to him, “Thanks for the water. I should get going.”

“Book club tonight, right?”, he asked. It was still set as a permanent reminder in his phone’s calendar so that he’d come to pick you up afterward to walk you to your dorm.

“Actually… I have a date.”

You waited for a moment before you dared to look at him again. His face had fallen and he seemed at a loss for words. When you brushed past him you half expected him to grab your hand again, to try to talk you out of it. But nothing. He stood exactly where you left him and so you went inside.

tags because I genuinely appreciate all your comments and reblogs: @samoankpoper21 @garouaddict @gojoscloset @multi-fandom-fanfic @crazyyanderefangirlfan

[part 3]

[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]

you can take me . . . HOT TO GO !

i. matsukawa + f!reader

ARE YOU DOWN ?

content . . . smau, tinder au, college au, everyone thank mitch for the brainrot of this idea, timeskipped characters warnings . . . MDNI, college party culture, no smut but allusions to and implications to sex/hooking up, suggestive as hell, crude humor taglist . . . open, send an ask

GO ALL THE WAY !

style guides . . . yn | mattsun mood boards . . . hot to go | yn | mattsun playlist . . . oh they're fucking

SEND A MESSAGE !

[ ❤ used for chapters with written parts ] introductions . . . arsonists and an idiot | go to hell mattsun one . . . swipe right! two . . . poetry three . . . poser four . . .  tequila  five . . . pending message. . . ❤

WHAT'S IT TAKE TO GET YOUR NUMBER ? WHAT'S IT TAKE TO BRING YOU HOME ?

[box-of-roses]

♡.﹀﹀Chapstick﹀﹀.♡

Characters: Tsukki, Kageyama, Hinata, Makki, Mattsun, Iwaizumi, Sakusa, Atsumu

Warnings: None that I can think of <3

Synopsis: What chapstick I think the different Haikyuu characters would use

Tsukki

Strawberry

Probably not one to just have chapstick on him at all times so he steals yours

When you first notice he’s been stealing your chapstick you can’t help but smile

Everytime you kiss it tastes like strawberries now because he’s started carrying his own supply of chapstick so you kiss him more often (not that he would admit that)

“Kei, have you seen my chapstick?” You ask as you start looking around the room. You were sure you left it in here. Not on the table, not on the couch…where could it have gone?

“Yeah, I have it right here. You really need to be more careful where you leave your things dummy.” He rolls his eyes and holds out the chapstick to you. You notice a sheen across his lips though and smile a little. 

“Did you use my chapstick?” 

“And if I did? What are you gonna do about it?” You laugh a little and lean into his face. 

“My lips are a little chapped if you don’t mind.” With that you kiss him and while he’s still in shock take your chapstick back. “You know if you wanted to use it you could’ve just asked.”

Kageyama

Milk Tea

He unlike some others on this list would keep chapstick on him

You’re the one who steals his chapstick

He gets the same flavor every time and goes to one specific store because it’s the only one that carries that flavor

“Tobi, take me with you!” You cling to him. He rolls his eyes and shrugs a bit to get you up and walking by yourself. 

“Sure, you can come with me. Maybe you can get some of your own chapstick while you’re at it.” He teases and gives you a smile. You shove him playfully.

“Then where would be my reason to kiss you?”

“Maybe you can just kiss your boyfriend?” He raises an eyebrow at you and opens the door to the store for you. 

“Nah! It’s more fun this way.” 

He gets jealous when you do in fact find a chapstick and stop kissing him when your lips get chapped

He 100% hides the chapstick so you have to come to him again

Hinata

Cake

Another one to steal your chapstick

It was a random one you had in your bag so you just gave it to him from your stash

Definitely only uses cake flavors now because it reminds him of you

Hinata looked around everywhere for the small tube of vanilla cake chapstick you had given him. He was upset that he couldn’t find it. Where was it? He looked everywhere before he gave up. He was sulking on the couch when you returned home. “Y/N, I’m sorry.” He sniffles.

You rush over to him and sit down in front of him. “Oh, Sho, what’s wrong?” You cup his face.

“I lost the chapstick you gave me.” You start laughing. 

“Is that it?” You smile and rummage through your bag before pulling out another chapstick. “I have more, you know.” You hand the chapstick to him. Birthday Cake. 

You noticed he liked the cake flavors so you kept a stash with you at all times incase he happened to lose another one

He found the chapstick he lost the next week, turns out he left it at practice

When you lose your chapstick though he’s there proudly offering the one you gave to him

Makki

Hot Coco

Got it on a whim

Now during Christmas time he stocks up because you told him you liked how his lips tasted once

This doesn’t mean he doesn’t like playing tricks on you though

Remember that trend where people were kissing their partners with lip plumper? Yeah he 100% did that to you

Makki smiled as his plan was coming together. You were going to come home any minute and he was the picture of a doting boyfriend. Sitting on the couch waiting patiently for you to return so you could give him a kiss. 

When you do finally walk through the door you smile and rush to your boyfriend. He’ll never get over how your face lights up when you see him. It’s probably one of his favorite things, that he can make you happy just by being there. You immediately go down to kiss him. After a few minutes though your lips start tingling. Your eyes narrow at him. “Makki. Did you put lip plumper on?”

“Are my kisses that electric to you honey?” He says with a shit eating grin on his face. Well, that answers that question. 

It’s okay though, you get back at him 

You two keep each other on your toes but there’s no denying that when you kiss him and taste hot coco you fall in love all over again

Iwaizumi

Mint

A traditional man

Not against changing flavors if you give it to him though

He always has one on him, a habit he picked up from Oikawa

Definitely teases you though when you first kissed him and recoiled because you weren’t expecting mint

You had finally worked up enough nerve to kiss Iwaizumi. You lean in slowly but once your lips touch you jump back. Your lips tingle and you’re not sure why. Iwaizumi starts laughing though. “My lips are so tingly!” You whisper-yell and put your hand over your mouth. It’s then that you notice the smell of mint. “Hajime! How could you,” you push him back a little. 

“Sorry my love! I didn’t know you would react like that!” This time though you’re prepared when he kisses you again. The tingling of the mint fades away quickly and it’s replaced by the warmth of his lips

As a result his kisses are cold and then warm

You learn to love the cold and find it refreshing, especially if he’s coming back from his morning run and you need a kiss to wake you up

Pair that with his mint toothpaste and you’ve got a recipe to wake you up and get ready for the day

Mattsun

Blueberry Poptart

He tries to find the weirdest flavors he can

He just also really likes the Blueberry Poptart flavor though so it’s the one he always comes back to

It’s a hard flavor to find but he thinks it’s worth it for the smile you make when you notice the flavor

Chapstick game with his collection

Mattsun thought with his collection of wacky flavors it would be fun to play the chapstick game. A good excuse to kiss you as much as he wanted to without any other reason. Of course you agreed so here the two of you were, sitting on your bed with chapstick splayed out on the blanket. 

“So, do you want to go first?” You ask as you look at all the options. Mattsun smiles and nods. 

“Yeah, sure. Close your eyes though. No cheating.” He could care less about if you cheated or not. He just wanted to kiss you for hours. Hence why he brought out his full collection of 60 different flavors. You were going to be here for a while.

It was the chapstick you were wearing on your first date when he kissed you (That’s why he comes back to it) 

You two also definitely play the chapstick game again whenever either of you want to kiss each other without a good reason

Sakusa

Cherry

Another simple man

He just wants his lips to be hydrated

Enjoys your smile when you kiss him and realize it’s cherry though

There’s nothing sentimental about it you just like the taste of cherry chapstick

Your first kiss wasn’t anything spectacular. The both of you were nervous but weren’t sure why. The two of you had kissed other people before so why was it so nerve wracking this time? Sakusa is the one who gets his head together first and cups your face. He pulls down his mask and smiles softly at you. “Are you ready?”

You nod your head with a shaky smile. Both of you lean in and it’s a very nice kiss. It’s gentle and you’re not sure why you were so worried before. The both of you pull away with a smile. “That wasn’t so scary. We were just being silly. Also, the cherry is nice. I like it.” You say and lean back in for another. He lets out a small chuckle and leans back in too. 

Will only try a new chapstick if you’re the one wearing it

If he really wants to try it he’ll give you a quick kiss before standing back up and acting like nothing happened

Atsumu

Fanta

Another weird chapstick connoisseur 

He just really likes Fanta so he keeps some on him wherever he goes

He has at least 6 of them at a time; One in his gym bag, school bag, pants pocket, jacket pocket, one at home on the counter, and one on the bedside table

Also on that enjoys the shocked look on your face

He had only just started carrying around chapstick after he learned your lips could get sunburnt. Needless to say when you kissed him goodbye that morning Fanta was certainly not what you were expecting to taste. He just stands there smirking as you lick your lips confused. “Is that…Fanta? Do you have Fanta chapstick?” 

“Guilty as charged.” He says and leans against the door frame. “Want another one?” You roll your eyes but pull him into another kiss. 

“Not what I was expecting but it’s not bad.” 

Switches it up with other soda flavors

Loves surprising you but that doesn’t mean you can’t surprise him too

You find a Pepper chapstick and rewrap it so it looks like the Fanta one

Payback for all the times he’s pranked you

I hope you guys enjoyed! Once again an impulse post 💀 let me know if you want a part two with different characters!!! <3

masterlist

rules

[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.

[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

[zetsubo-billy]

𝚃𝙰𝚂𝚃𝙴

genre(s): ¿comedy?, nsfw but no smut, college!AU — all characters are 20-ish y/o

pairing(s): eventual hanamaki takahiro x reader, eventual matsukawa issei x reader, eventual hanamaki takahiro x matsukawa issei

summary: frustrated after an argument with your now-ex-fuck buddy, you find yourself asking your two best guy friends the forbidden question

content warnings: sex talk, that’s literally it, that’s the fic, reader has a few stray horny thoughts, one (1) joke about feminism, sexual tension, a lot of mentions of oral sex

word count: 2.2k

MINORS AND AGELESS/EMPTY BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT! DO! NOT! INTERACT!

“Okay, but, do you guys think girls taste weird?”

You have no idea why you say it. Usually, you let Mattsun and Makki have their lively discussions of recent sexcapades while you listen passively. Maybe you’ll laugh at them here and poke fun at them for something silly there, or just nod along. You never pipe up and tell them about your own experiences, no matter how many times they grill you about the guys they’ve seen you with, but the past week has made you reach your breaking point. You couldn’t stop yourself.

“What?”, Makki asks as his and Mattsun’s conversation reaches a sudden halt, tilting his head at you from where he sits on the other end of the creaky old sofa in their shared apartment. “Like, your pussies?”

Heat flashes up your neck and you quickly look away from him, busying yourself with fingering at the hem of the woolen blanket you bought him and his housemate as a housewarming gift. Your pussies. He means girls’ pussies in general, you’re sure. It’s not like you have several vaginas. But it still felt oddly targeted. Then again, you’re the only one in the apartment with that anatomy, so of course it’s a little bit targeted. He sure wasn’t talking to Mattsun, at least.

Makki and Mattsun’s intense eyes seem to burn holes into your being as they both stare at you. Makki, expectantly, and Mattsun, curiously. Your mind spins as you try to focus on how to answer. “Well… yeah”, you mumble, embarrassed. You shift in your seat, pulling your knees closer to yourself.

Absolute silence fills the boys’ living room for a few seconds. You’re just about to wave your question away and say that you were just kidding, it doesn’t matter what they think and wow that was a stupid question, when Mattsun speaks up.

“Not really”, he says in his deep voice. He sits in between you and Makki, the (sometimes) calm between two storms, in the middle of the couch. One of his arms is stretched out along the back of the sofa, behind you, while he scratches lightly at the back of his neck with his other hand as if in thought. “I mean, there’s not really another taste like it. But it’s not weird, no.”

“Yeah, no other taste like it”, Makki agrees, leaning over the armrest on his end of the sofa. “I love it. It’s not weird, it’s just… purely her. I think it’s hot as fuck that everyone tastes different.”

A heat starts to boil deep in your gut at the same time as it blossoms in your cheeks. You hope they don’t notice. “R-really?”, you ask, and you internally curse yourself for stuttering.

“Yeah, really”, the strawberry blonde continues. If you look at him, you know he’ll be grinning teasingly. “Why’re you asking?”

Dread starts to mix in with the warmth in your stomach, and you shift again as you pull the blanket closer to yourself. It’s not at all cold in their apartment anymore, though. Now you only have the blanket for comfort, like a toddler who’s grown too old to have a pacifier but doesn’t want to throw it away.

“Oh, uh, no reason”, you mumble, hoping they’ll let it go.

They, of course, don't.

“Really?”, Mattsun pipes up, and you can hear the smirk that’s plastered across his stupidly handsome face as he speaks. “No reason at all that you suddenly decided to talk to us about sex after we’ve been trying to get you to open up since high school?”

Curse him and his attentiveness.

“Mhm”, you force yourself to answer. The blanket isn’t comforting anymore but suffocating, the warmth of the wool combined with your flushed embarrassment — and let’s be honest, a little bit of arousal — and the way Mattsun and Makki are looking at you makes it too hot in the living room. You tug the blanket off, throwing it at Makki. “No reason, let’s forget about it.”

Makki’s volleyball reflexes allow him to easily catch the blanket in his hands. He balls it up and shoves it in between the sofa cushions. “No reason, huh? You sure about that?”, he asks, and this time you do look at him. And, what do you know, he is grinning just as stupidly just as you thought. “Not even a little bit of a reason?”

You shift in your seat, looking away from him again, but you don’t answer.

Cold, long fingers brush against the hot back of your burning neck and you shiver almost violently in your seat as you snap your head around to look at Mattsun. He’s looking at you with his deep brown eyes, and just the way he looks at you makes you shiver again. He wets his lips with his tongue before speaking up, still gently caressing the back of your neck with his fingers. “Don’t tell me that guy you go out with tells you he won’t eat your pussy ‘cause he doesn’t like the taste.”

You swallow thickly and avoid his gaze, shaking your head. “No reason, is what I said. Let’s just forget about this whole—”

“Uuuugh, god!”, Makki cuts you off exasperatedly, making you jump slightly in your seat. “I fucking hate guys like that! They act like they’re saints for fingering their girlfriends for, like, three minutes before they fuck, but then they still expect to get sucked off every night!”, he continues, letting his head fall back against the sofa. “Fucking assholes. They’re the reason we still need feminism.”

Despite yourself, and despite the odd conversation, you can’t help but giggle at his last sentence. He’s… not exactly wrong. “I’d argue the reason we still need feminism is because of the patriarchy”, you tease, and watch as color drains from his face. “But I guess you’re right, too”, you finish as Mattsun’s gentle touch at the back of your neck moves to your hair, playing with a few loose strands. “And there are so many guys like that. Hell, I’ve never been with a guy who wasn’t like that.”

And then you remember that they’re not your girlfriends ranting about sleazy men but your childhood guy friends.

This is the first time in a long time that the three of you have managed to fit all of your schedules together since you started at different universities, different majors, different after class activities and different weekend jobs to pay the rent. They still live together, and presumably see each other every day, while you live with two girls you met in your first year in college. You swallow thickly, embarrassment eating away at you again as you, once again, pull your knees closer to yourself and shrink away from Mattsun’s hand in your corner of the sofa. “Umm, forget I said that.”

“No way I can forget that”, Makki quickly answers, and there’s a tone in his voice that you’ve never heard before.

Before you really know what’s happening, he’s flying up from his seat and kneeling on the floor in front of you while Mattsun follows you into the corner of the sofa to be able to start tracing shapes over the back of your neck again. Makki’s hands are gentle and warm as they land on the tops of your bare knees, resting there. “You’re telling me, the god of pussy-eating—”, Mattsun snorts at that and the strawberry blonde sends him a glare, “— that you’ve never been eaten out?”

You feel suddenly cornered, as if they caught you doing something bad, as if they’re about to scold you. “Uh… well… not exactly…”, you mumble, eyes flitting between Makki and Mattsun before settling on your own nails as you start to slightly pick at your cuticles, nervous. “No, I have, I just… never came from it. Max says I take too long and… that he doesn’t… like how my, uh… how I taste.”

When you look up again, Makki looks just about ready to murder your now-ex fling, and you feel the way Mattsun tenses up beside you as he momentarily stops playing with your hair.

“Tell me, how much do I need to pay you to let me kick his ass?”, Makki grumbles, hands balling into fists where they still rest on your knees.

You smile sheepishly. “Well, um, nothing. I broke it off with him this morning after we got into a really bad argument. It started out about oral, actually, but then it just sort of… spiraled… and then I told him to fuck off.”

Makki’s jaw drops while Mattsun heaves a humored sigh. “So that’s why you got into this conversation from the start”, the taller one states, his fingers tickling you behind the ear. You shiver and try to shy away from his touch, but he doesn’t let you.

Again, you’re reminded of the heat in their apartment. You’re only wearing a pair of sweatshorts, old and ratty and something you wouldn’t be caught dead in around any other creature of the male species but Makki and Mattsun, and one of their soft t-shirts with a worn print that you stole several years ago — none of you remember which one of them it originally belonged to since they usually swap t-shirts back and forth, and they stopped pestering you about giving it back a long time ago.

“Well… yes?”, you find yourself saying.

Makki’s hands unclench and grip your bare knees gently, drawing your attention back to him from Mattsun. He’s grinning up at you, and there’s a darkness in his eyes that makes your stomach flip. “So… you want us to give you an oral orgasm?”

Your jaw drops as you stare at him, wide-eyed. Admittedly, you had considered the both of them in that light, several times, over the years. Just look at them! Over six feet tall the both of them, athletic, fast and with nice features. It should be illegal to be so physically gifted. Horny teenage curiosity and more recent dry spells had led you to long nights with your hand between your thighs, imagining how one of their hands would feel in its place; or better yet both of their hands.

Their fingers are thicker, longer, than yours, so they would undoubtedly reach deeper. Stretch you wider. But how would they go about it? Would they be soft and careful? Hard and rough? Would they be different from each other?

Of course the two would be different. But how different? Would one of them be fast, the other slow? Or would it be the softness-contra-roughness that differs, rather than the pace? And let’s not get started on the question of their size. You’ve seen them lounge about in sweatpants sometimes, it doesn’t happen often, and every time you have to force your eyes up to their faces. You know it’s a stupid assumption, but they have big hands. And large shoe sizes. It’s only fair to assume that—

Mattsun’s large hand lands across the back of your neck, squeezing lightly to get your attention. It’s such a simple gesture, yet you feel like you melt into the palm of his hand. “Hiro asked you a question, sweetheart”, he mumbles right into your ear. He’s so close you can feel his breath against the side of your face. “I think he’d like an answer.”

Only then do you realize that you got lost in your own thoughts for several moments. How long? You don’t know, but you don’t dare to dwell on it. You swallow thickly, raising your gaze from where you’d zoned out while looking at Makki’s hands on your knees until you meet his eyes. He’s smirking that usual cocky smirk of his, but his eyes are swimming with something you’ve never seen in him before. His hands are warm on your knees, and you shiver in your seat as Mattsun squeezes gently at the back of your neck. They’ve literally got you cornered on their shitty old couch.

“U-um, could you repeat the question?”, you stutter out, hating the way your voice wavers and sounds so airy.

But Makki grins, squeezing your knees in his hands. “Sure thing, babe”, he says teasingly. “I asked if you wanted me and Issei to eat your pussy until you cum.”

Oh. Right. That.

Your jaw drops again and this time around, they both laugh. Not meanly, not at your expense. They just laugh lowly, and you feel like the sound makes your entire being vibrate.

“I— umm, I mean, I, hah…”, you stammer, trying to get out a complete sentence.

“Only if you want to. And it doesn’t have to be both of us, you can take your pick. Promise we won’t be mad”, Makki continues, squeezing your knees gently. “Right, Issei?”

Mattsun huffs in agreement, his palm still heavy and warm and comforting against the back of your neck. “Right”, he echoes his friend’s statement. “If you're not comfortable, neither of us want it. Don’t pressure yourself.”

Makki nods along, and starts talking about something that you only half-hear because your mind is reeling. They don’t want to pressure you. They’re waiting for your word. But the way they pose it, it’s like they expect you to say no. It’s like they’ve already given up, even though you haven’t even answered yet. Or, well, technically you have, but that embarrassing stutter of a reply you gave just a moment ago doesn’t count. Not really.

Just as Makki leans back slightly, about to get up from the floor as his hands lift from your knees, your hands dart out to grab his wrists. His eyebrows shoot up as you firmly place his hands high up on your thighs, but he still grins.

“Well, self-proclaimed god of pussy-eating”, you start off teasingly, and he rolls his eyes at you as Mattsun chuckles beside you. Makki’s eye roll is cut short as you suggestively spread your legs slightly, his gaze zeroing in on where your pussy hides beneath your bottoms. “Do your worst.”

[sachirobabe]

Haikyuu characters and random texts

ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅ ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅ ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅ ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅ ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅ ᡣ𐭩 •｡

Characters: Oikawa Tooru, Matsukawa Issei, Sawamura Daichi, Tsukishima Kei, Kuroo Tetsurou, Miya Atsumu

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[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

[cottonlemonade]

Dating You For A Bet [Part 1]

word count: 1767 || avg. reading time: 8 mins.

pairing: university AU!Matsukawa x chubby!Reader

genre: angst

warnings: some swearing

It was becoming increasingly harder to ignore the barely hidden stares and whispers surrounding you. You looked up to check if maybe you were just imagining things but the hastily averted eyes and hush of voices solidified your suspicion that you were once again the talk of the town. It happened many times before that you, the chubby foreigner with the mediocre grades but big opinions during seminars, were subject to gossip and after a year of studying in Tokyo, you were somewhat used to it. The gossip died down a few months after your arrival only to spike exponentially when the handsome middle blocker of the varsity volleyball team came up to you one day during lunch and with a disarming smirk that belonged on the pages of scandalous romance novels simply sat down across from you, asking if you enjoyed the miso soup that was hardly touched and by now stone cold on your tray. Oblivious to any kind of possible flirting you just shrugged and went back to your phone when a long finger tapped gently on your knuckles to get your attention. Matsukawa tilted his head a little and asked if you’d like to study with him later in the library and you agreed and it all just developed from there. He did have to spell it out for you that he was interested since you just assumed that he was being nice like most guys you talked to but you quickly came into the dessert-like luxury of being acknowledged as his girlfriend, fingers entwined, him pulling your legs over his lap when you lounged on a bench on the university grounds, talking about anything and nothing for six glorious, sunny months. You were in fact waiting for him right now, keeping your backpack on the seat next to you just in case someone dared to plop down. Giggles and pointing now joined the stares and whispers and frowning a little you pulled out your phone to text your boyfriend how long he’d be.

“Sorry! Sorry. Hey, I said sorry, now shoo~“ Your tall glass of water of a man shuffled through the row of seats a minute later and a little out of breath from running over from another building got comfortable and produced his laptop from his messenger bag. “Thank you, beautiful.”, he panted when you brought the straw of your iced coffee to his lips.

“What’s up?”, he asked when you didn’t lean in as usual for a kiss. Following your gaze he looked around the lecture hall. Some people quickly turned the other way again while others just blatantly continued their gawking.

“What’s going on?”

“No idea but I feel like it has something to do with me.”, you said quietly. Slouching further down in your chair you added, “Maybe some stupid rumor again in the class forum. Like last time when they thought I only have one pair of pants because most of my jeans just have the same cut.”

“Well, better check it out so I can vehemently defend my girl against any and all evil doings that are being evil done.”, he said chivalrously and grabbed his phone from his jacket pocket. But after a bit of typing you saw all color drain from his face. His usually relaxed half hooded eyes widened in shock and he quickly locked the screen.

“Babe.”, you gave a nervous chuckle, “What is it?”

“Nothing.”

You raised a brow. “You do realize that I also have access to that site and can check myself.”

Slowly, very very slowly he handed you his phone and with a few swipes it unlocked.

Sure enough the community forum of your year was open and a set of screenshots from a group chat was pinned to the very top.

You recognized one of the profile pictures. It was Issei’s old one before he changed it to a photo of you and him kissing at a lake.

Your boyfriend meanwhile sat silently next to you, staring at his hands.

Three minutes passed in which the air around became thick with tension.

You swallowed the impossibly large lump that had formed in your throat while you read, then stared ahead at the many other students now obviously waiting for you to react.

But you were not about to give them the satisfaction. You tossed the phone back into your … into Matsukawa’s lap and having no patience to put your things away, just grabbed tablet, notepad, pen and phone awkwardly in one hand, your backpack in the other and got up.

“Please let me out.”, you said calmly.

“Y/n, I-“

“I said, let me out.”

Matsukawa stood up to let you pass, so did the other people in your row. You felt your eyes burn but you willed yourself not to cry or breathe until you left this room.

Stoically, you walked up the few steps towards the double doors when you heard shuffling behind you and a hand grabbed your wrist. You didn’t have to turn around to know it was him.

“Princess, please-“

You yanked yourself free and reached for the handle.

“Mr Matsukawa, Miss L/N.”, the voice of the professor who had finally arrived stopped you in your tracks, “May I remind you that in order to pass my class you need an 80% attendance rate? Especially you, Mr Matsukawa, if you leave now I’m going to have to fail you.”

Grim satisfaction filled your head when you pushed open the door to leave him behind.

He should stay like a good boy. He should have the decency to give you a head start to go to his dorm so you could collect every single thing you ever left there and you began to wonder if you’d need one or two trash bags for all the crap he kept in your room.

But much to your surprise the door behind you didn’t close as quickly as you thought. Familiar footsteps caught up to you.

“Y/n, it’s not what you think.”

Your heart began to sting and twist; the tears, no longer under your control, streamed down your plump cheeks when you spun around.

“Alright.”, you began, letting out a quivering breath to steady your voice, “Tell me. Explain to me why you obviously making a bet with your jerky friends about getting me into bed is not what I think. Oh, and make sure you use small words for the foreigner. Go on. Make me laugh.”

“Gorgeous-“

“Don’t call me that.”

He flinched. He looked small, kneading his hands like that, head ducked between his shoulders and staring at your shoes.

“Y/n…”, he said but then fell silent.

“That’s what I thought. Don’t talk to me. Don’t call me. Don’t come near me ever again.”

You turned on your heel and not caring about the highly entertained grin some passersby threw your way you hurried out of the building.

Issei looked after you for a long while, then he returned to the lecture hall.

You lay on your bed, arm over your eyes and heating pillow on your tummy. Ever since this morning you hadn’t been able to eat anything and were now paying the price for trying to keep down an old milk bread bun you had found squashed at the bottom of your backpack. Without all of Matsukawa’s stuff cluttering your side of the room it felt a lot emptier. All the plushies from the arcade he’d won for you, his spare Pyjamas (kept hidden under your bed) for when your roommate was out of town, a bouquet of flowers, impulsively picked from someone’s front yard that you had pressed and framed, a tattered old jersey from his high school team he left for you as a makeshift pillowcase so you could breathe him in if he couldn’t be with you - all of that was stuffed into a bulging black trash bag by the door. It genuinely surprised you that your phone had stayed silent all day. In the very back of your mind, a small unwelcome part of you had hoped that he’d try to talk to you despite your warnings. That he would try to explain himself and get you back but then again it had all just been a game to him, right?

The rustling of paper had you sit up. A folded note slipped under your door. You got up to investigate. The handwriting, almost illegible chicken scratches, and almost illegible, was unmistakable. Fighting the urge to read it, you simply crumpled it up and threw it away, proud of yourself. But when you turned to go back to bed, another note appeared.

It looked identical to the first.

“What the…”, you muttered, and as you balled up this new message you called through the door, “Go away!”

But a third note, the same as the first two, swished towards your feet.

You had enough and pulled the door open.

Crouching before you, a stack of paper in his arms, was Matsukawa, arm outstretched with yet another note, ready to deploy apparently.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

“I-“

“Didn’t I tell you that I don’t want to see you again?”

“Well…”

“Well what?”

“Technically you didn’t see me. U-until… now.” You glared at him and he quietly added, “Loophole.” in a weak attempt to lighten the mood.

“Are you seriously trying to be cute right now?”

“No! Not at all, I- uhm, did you read the message?”

“Take a wild guess.”

“Okay, give me five minutes to explain. Please!”

“What’s there to explain? Your dumb friend offered you a dumb bet and your dumb ass accepted it. With zero hesitation, might I add.”

“Yes, but-“

“Did you get the money?”

“What?”

“You heard me, did you get the money?”

“I… yes.”

“Did you feel guilty for getting the money?”

“Babe- I mean, y/n”, he quickly swerved after seeing you seething with rage at the nickname, “the money didn’t matter! I was hopelessly in love with you the moment you pushed Makki into the pool.”

He shuffled half a step closer to you and took a whole one back again when you frowned.

“That party was in July. We started dating in the spring. So for the first half of our relationship you were just pretending?”

“N-no! That’s not what I - no!”

“Take your shit and get out of my sight!”

“Listen to me, I won’t let you go! You’re the best thing that ever happened to me! I know I don’t deserve you but please don’t leave me! I love you, y/n!”

“Goodbye!”

And after chucking the trash bag into his face you slammed the door shut.

art: I wasn’t able to find out who the OG artist was. If you know, please lemme know and I’ll add

[part 2]