#seijoh four

[chrollogy]

sex with seijoh 4 where they leave matsukawa for last because of the monstrosity that sits between his legs, the other three boys are nice enough to prep and stretch you out before he finally takes you. they do their absolute best, whether it be making you cum on their fingers, tongue or cock but all it does is reduce you to a violent quivering mess—your body convulsing as your sopping cunt greedily swallows matsukawa’s tip, and he thinks it’s the hottest fucking sight ever. the way you take short, rapid breaths to steady yourself and hide the ecstasy consuming your whole being but the shaking of your thighs painfully gives it away. iwaizumi, hanamaki, and oikawa watches with a carnal glint in their lustful eyes as your face contorts in pure bliss. matsukawa has an arm rested behind his head, the other resting on your bare hip, a lazy smile plastered upon his handsome face as if you weren’t fighting for your sanity before him.

he bites his lip as your nails painfully dig into his naked chest, your own face mirroring his expression as you sink into him further—eyes threatening to roll back, pleasure pulling you further and further into the void called insanity. your body sways with every heavy breath taken, teetering on the boundaries of pain and pleasure. the man beneath you runs a free hand over your sweat-covered body, a way to somehow soothe you but deep down it was to keep him in check as well—his patience wearing thin at the way your velvety walls eagerly sucked him in. matsukawa felt so fucking good inside you, stretching you out like no man ever could, and kissing spots inside you that you didn’t know even existed. the funniest thing? he hasn’t even bottomed out yet.

[giustoart]

I couldn't resist. The best group of four in Haikyuu 🥰

[iwasdear]

I'm coming in with another thought about Matsukawa cus he lives in a penthouse in my brain and bro is not moving out any time soon

he did not truely grasp how big his meat was until he lost his virginity

sure he's not dumb he knew it was definitely something but not until he got a girl in bed did he realize his shtick was built different

and lemme say that did more than just inflate his ego, he was a changed man

And doesn't just slang it all willy nilly and expect his size to do all the work, he learned the motion of the ocean and was a certified sex god from that point forward‼

Not just cocky for cockys sake, he promises a good time and sure as hell lays it tf down too😼

On a similar note can I ask how you think all the seijoh 4 first times went? when? how? what do you think?

oh i definitely fuck with this thought, anon. he's not cocky just because he can be cocky, but it's because he knows he can be cocky. matsukawa isn't like those annoying mfs that are cocky because they think they're the shit. he is the shit. after that encounter where he lost his virginity, he became a god and nobody could stop him no more.

now, here is how i think seijoh 4z first time went ( with reader ) ★

oikawa had his first time at a party. since he's very popular, he gets invited to parties often. i feel like he def had no idea as to what the fuck to do, but i mean, you're not bound to knows when it's your first time, right? he was really excited about it, though, and spoiler: he came really fast! we understand, king. hormones are everywhere, there's a rush that's hard to ignore, its a first time sensation, how could he hold back? he had a round two after that because he reached his own high, but reader didn't even get to enjoy theirs, and let me tell you. his second orgasm hit him ten times harder. i know this messed up with his ego so he's been participating in every no nut november like a loser because he says it will help him last longer (it really doesn't).

mattsun had a pretty decent first time with a date, and it went absolutely amazing for both of them. the amount of stamina this guy has is insane. they met on a dating app, both of their profiles specifying that they didn't want anything serious, much rather looking for a quick hook-up. it was then when matsukawa realized his cock was in fact not your average dick. the fact that his huge buddy could make someone cry in pain fascinated him. my guy has morals so he held back so reader could adjust but god was his ego over the roof. ever since then, mattsun proudly carries a weapon between his legs.

makki had his first time in a damn club HANDS DOWN. unlike oikawa, who had the commodity of a (strangers) bed, hanamaki went at it in a bathroom. oh yeah. ngl i feel like he's a sucker for head, so they went with that first! he loved it, btw. lasted quite long but not too long, iykwim. then he proceeded to fuck reader on the sink. some clubs tend to have full body mirrors and my gut is telling this mf had a second round but this time full view on said mirror. the ones above the sink weren't it for him. out of the 4, i personally think makki is the most experienced. he knew what he was doing the moment they walked into that bathroom. if you're wondering, they waited for it to empty out and locked the doors and didn't let anyone in for a good two hours, teehee.

this one may be a little too biased because i love iwaizumi a little too much, and in my eyes, he's a gentleman. unlike the other 3, iwa had his first time with someone he was in a stablished relationship with at the time. it was actually quite romantic and beautiful and SIKE. hajime had his first time in the lockers. stressed from dealing with oikawa and his annoying fangirls, mattsun and makki holding him back from beating the shit out of his best friend, and just built up stress from other things. he was over it. the stablished relationship part is true. he asked reader to meet in the lockers a little earlier than the time practice usually ends because he heard from others (mattsun) that sex was a good stress reliever. by the way, iwaizumi was the last to lose his virginity. the gentleman part was also true because despite being someone who doesn't speak his mind outloud, my man still had the courage to confidently ask reader if they could do the deed right there and then. tbh i feel like he likes his privacy, and i mean, anyone could walk in any second, so they both went with the showers. great experience if you ask him, but he would NOT do it in an open space like that ever again.

© iwasdear | more thoughts are welcome!

[dira333]

Of Lovers and Friends - Ushijima x Reader

thank you @screamin-abt-haikyuu talking to you is inspiring

If you find a typo, I wrote this instead of going to bed. Goodnight.

“Just a Tonic Water, please,” You order, well aware of all the eyes on you.

“Are you sick?” Kindaichi asks, already pressing a hand against your forehead.

“Pregnant?” Kunimi’s next, though less serious.

“As if, you can’t get pregnant from RPG,” Makki points out, licking foam off his lip.

“You would know,” you tell him, a little peeved, as you push Kindaichi away.

“I’m fine. I just have a date later.”

Yahabi whistles, clearly impressed. God, you need to amp up your game. This is just sad.

“Who is it?” Kyoutani asks, forever your best friend. Or at least the one guy who’s seemingly the least interested in teasing you.

“I don’t know, my Mom set us up. She went to school with his Mom or something like that. I just know that he plays Volleyball and is about my age.”

“Could be anyone,” Watari mumbles into his Aperol Spritz.

“Could be Ushijima,” Mattsun jokes, causing Makki to choke on his beer, spluttering as he bellows out a laugh.

“Can you imagine? That would be hilarious!”

“Har har har,” you thank the waitress for your drink and lean back in your chair, “Can we change the topic? Does Makki have a job yet?”

“Uncalled for!” Makki points an accusing finger at you. “And no. But a little birdy told me that Kyoutani’s got a fangirl.”

Kyoutani blushes, glaring into his drink. The girl must mean something to him if he’s trying to pull himself together like this. You swerve to look at Kindaichi who’s managed to spill his diet coke - again.

“What about you? Did you call that girl we met at the coffee shop?”

“No,” he ducks his head. “I didn’t. I was… I didn’t want to make a fool out of myself.”

“Yeah, well, you did,” Makki lets his eyes wander as usual, “Tell you what. There’s a nice girl with her friends two tables over. We’ll get you her number but you have to call. Or at least send her some funny memes, okay?”

“Okay,” Kindaichi’s looking at you. Makki’s looking at you.

You groan and get up. “Next time you get someone else to get that number, okay? This is the last time.”

“Love you too, pumpkin!” Makki calls after you as you make your way over. These patterns have turned familiar.

-

You should have gotten a beer, you think two hours later as you wait, your legs twitching with anxiety. 

You’ve been painfully single for so long that you can’t help but feel you should have worn a dress or at least something more fancy than the jeans and top combo you’re sporting. But it’s comfy and it sets you at ease. And you’ve always been an advocate for being yourself on the first date. If they don’t like you like that, they won’t matter anyway.

So far that has brought you a lot of first dates and not a lot of second dates.

A deep voice calls out your name. You turn, your hands clutching the single purple carnation you had to bring - your mother’s idea. 

You spot the flower first, a tiny purple thing held in massive hands. He’s tall, impressively so. You let your eyes wander up as he walks over, the flickering street light casting long shadows over his face until he’s reached you and the soft warm glow of the restaurant behind you. 

Your heart skips a painful beat as he attempts a rather forced smile.

“Ushijima-kun,” you stutter, the confidence earned in twenty-something years shattered and replaced by the anxious brain of a teenager.

He offers you his hand, the one without the flower and you take it. His palm swallows yours, his grip warm and firm. If you can blend out the history your team has with his, that your friends have with him, you can give him a chance, right?

-

“Are you close with your mother?” He asks in the tense moment when the food’s already been ordered and the drinks aren’t served yet. It’s the worst possible question to ask, too, because no, you’re not close. Not since she went through with the divorce, unable to settle with a man ever since, as dissatisfied with them as she is with life, her business, you.

You don’t ramble often, but you do when you’re nervous. 

If he’s taken aback by the flood of words, of trauma seemingly long overcome, he does not show. He’s like a rock, sitting steadfast in the crashing river of your emotions, unmoving, sturdy.

When you’re finished, throat a little dry, he nods slowly. 

“My parents are divorced as well,” he says. You wonder if he’s told it often. 

“How was it for you?” You ask and the surprise in his eyes tells you that he hasn’t been asked this before. 

His tale is told more slowly. He hands out information bit by bit, always confirming that you’re still listening, still interested in what he has to say about this topic. You share a bottle of wine over his parent's divorce, the main dish just an accessory to the topic at hand. 

When his words run dry and the last drop of wine is poured into your glass, your mind a little fuzzy and his lips tinted a little blue, you are full and empty at the same time. All the anxiety has left you over dinner. 

Seijoh and your friends are far, far away but Ushijima - Wakatoshi, as he asks you to call him - is right there.

“Do you want to share dessert?” You ask and his eyes light up with a new emotion, one you haven’t seen before on him. It’s a little softer, makes him look a little younger, maybe.

“Do you like chocolate?” He asks, leaning forward a bit as if to share a secret.

“Who doesn’t?” You ask back and learn about his best friend.

-

“This was nice,” you say when he walks you to the train station, slowing his steps to be in tune with yours. The cold night air does wonders for your fuzzy brain but the chill is less pleasant. You shiver.

“Here.” A warm weight settles over your shoulders. His jacket drapes over your skin like it was made for this. It smells good, too. 

It’s not the first time you wonder if there will be a second date. But it’s the first time you really, really hope there is.

The train station appears much too soon. You want to prolong this evening, stay longer in this emotion that you cannot name. But you’re a realist at heart and you slip his jacket off before you become too used to its warmth.

“Keep it,” his large hand stops your movement, easily takes hold of yours. “You can give it back the next time.”

“Next time?” You ask, unable to keep that hopeful tone out of your voice. 

“I don’t have much free time,” Wakatoshi explains, “Could we meet again in a week? Same time, same place?”

You nod, much too eager to come off as nonchalant. It reminds you of Kindaichi, but you cannot bring yourself to care. You give him your number and feel your lips slip into a smile when he immediately texts you so that you have his as well.

Overhead your trains arrival is announced. You turn, still unwilling to part.

“Until Friday,” Wakatoshi says, one last wave. “Good night.”

- - -

You sleep well, better than you have in days.

It’s only when you wake up that you realize what this means.

You have a second date. The first in a long time. 

But as excited as you are for it, dread still settles in your stomach. How on earth will you explain this to your friends?

The answer is, you don’t.

When you meet up for beers and games on wednesday, Makki consolingly pats your shoulder. He seems to think your date went awful and you do nothing to correct him. You only feel a little guilty. It’s his fault for not even asking.

The others seem to already have forgotten. The news of Kindaichi getting a first date is more exciting and you let yourself get dragged into it, give him fashion advice - that goes ignored - and laugh with the others when Yahaba tries to fix his hair.

It’s only Friday afternoon that your nerves make themselves known.

Surely there’s nothing wrong in dressing similar again. Wakatoshi didn’t seem to mind and neither should you.

But you want to, you desperately want to… look a little better. You want him to look at you, unable to catch his breath, unable to form words, at least for a few seconds. Is that too much to ask for?

But you don’t own any Make-up, courtesy of rebelling against everything that makes you think of your mother. So you do the next best thing and call Mattsun.

“I’m not late,” he answers, immediately defensive. Right, you’re still on for drinks before the date. You can’t think about that now.

“I don’t care. Get your girlfriend on the phone, I need help.”

“What? Why?”

“Girls-stuff, you wouldn’t understand.” 

Miri agrees to join you for drinks. According to her she won’t need more than ten minutes in the bar bathroom to give you a little bit of an extra kick.

“You don’t want to look too different to what he’s seen the last time,” she reasons as you go over the few options of fancier clothes you have.

You're anxious the whole time, nurse one soda after the other. Even Kunimi notices.

“Second date?” Kyoutani asks. Makki’s eyes widen in surprise. You hate it.

“Maybe,” you grumble, getting up to pee once more. 

“What? You didn’t tell us the first one went well.”

“You didn’t ask,” you tell him as you make your escape to the bathroom. But this is Makki. He doesn’t let go of a topic.

“What’s his name?” He asks as soon as you’re back. “What team does he play for?”

“Let me get through this date first,” you huff, trying to sound more relaxed than you are. 

“He’s nice?” Kyoutani asks, able to put a threat and a question and a whole lot of worry in those few words. 

“Yeah,” you say, a little flustered just by the thought of him. The boys go silent around you. 

“Wow, you really like that guy,” Mattsun points out. 

“Shut up,” you grumble and empty your glass, calling for another. You don’t want to talk about it.

“Anyway,” Miri points out and you’ll forever be thankful for that, for her switching topics when you need it most, “Mattsun and I have decided to move together. We’re still debating about which apartment to move into, though.”

“Are you for real?” Makki’s always the first to put in his two cents, “Miri’s apartment is way better.”

Miri laughs. “Thank you Makki, I knew I could count on you.”

-

“There, done.” Miri steps away. You look at yourself in the mirror, the knots in your stomach slowly loosening. You don’t look like a clown, not like your mother either. 

“What did you do?” You ask, a little perplexed by how long your lashes suddenly are. 

“Mascara and some eyeliner. A little lipgloss too, you can reapply it when you’re at the restaurant.”

“Thank you.”

“Anytime. If you want, we can go shopping for some of this stuff. You don’t need much and I can show you how to do the little things you might want to do sometimes.”

“Ah,” you look away, embarrassed, “Let me get through this date first.”

Miri smiles, understanding visible in her eyes. 

“Go get him, tiger,” she tells you when you part ways.

- - -

Wakatoshi is already waiting for you. 

Warmth pools in your stomach when he stills at your sight, his eyes warm as they wander over your face. 

“You look beautiful,” he tells you and you have to look away, too flustered to face him for a second.

“Am I not beautiful all the time?” You joke, hoping against hope that he does not notice the way your voice breaks slightly.

“Of course,” Wakatoshi tells you immediately, not an ounce of insincerity in his voice. You have to swallow twice before you’re able to talk again.

“You’re very pretty too,” your voice is doing funny things. You offer your hand to shake, a little unsure of what greeting is correct. He takes your hand in his, not to shake it, but to hold it all the way to the table and you’re unable to look anyone in the eyes until you’re seated, your insides a fluttery mess.

-

“Can I see you again?” Wakatoshi asks when you reach the train station, his jacket a comforting weight on your shoulders, your hand resting in his.

You nod, unable to hide your eagerness. 

You can’t blame the buzzing of your mind on alcohol this time. He’s calmly explained that he can’t drink often with his strict diet, has to choose between dessert or a glass of wine most of the time. It didn’t feel right to drink when he wasn’t allowed to.

Somehow your conversations feel deeper, more meaningful without the alcohol coating them. You know he means it when he asks and he knows you mean it when you nod.

Overhead, your train is announced. You don’t let go of his hand.

“I could do a little walk,” you say, “What do you say?”

You kiss his cheek when you eventually part. His skin is soft and warm underneath your lips. It follows you into your dreams.

-

On Wednesday you get a text just as you head out to meet the boys for beers and games.

“I’ve got out of practice earlier. Do you want to go for a walk?”

You go back inside, put on the lipgloss Miri had lent you as you text him your confirmation. You think about kissing him and wipe it off again, unsure of what you want. In the end you put it into your pocket just in case.

“Can’t come today, I have another date,” you text the group chat. 

Makki’s the first to answer, per usual, but his use of emojis has your anxiety rising so you put your phone on silent. You’ll deal with this on Friday.

It’s not yet time for the Sakura blossoms, but the park is beautiful anyway.

Not that you can focus on much besides the feeling of your hand in his, the way his voice rumbles in his chest as he talks about practice and his plans to meet up with his old teammates. 

You like this, the calmness of it all. You like him, with his serious expression and his direct way of asking. You like how he never fails to ask how your day has been, how he’s interested in all aspects of your work, even the little ones that no one seems to care about.

You like him, a lot. And if the way he looks at you is any indication, he likes you too. 

It’s when you’re on your way back, the setting sun bringing forth a chill, that someone calls your name.

You turn, your hand still firmly in Wakatoshi’s grasp, only to spot Kyoutani. He’s frozen on a near path and you know with certainty that he’s recognized your date. Your heart beats painfully in your throat and you feel sick.

“Everything okay?” Wakatoshi asks at the same time the girl next to Kyoutani pulls her massive scarf down to look at you. She looks familiar, blond hair, brown eyes, petite figure. It’s only when she opens her mouth to ask Kyoutani what’s going on that you recongize her. She’d been Karasuno’s volleyball manager. Yachi something.

Kyoutani seems to realize that you’ve recognized her because his face turns dark. He shakes his head at Yachi, points into the distance and leads her away. 

You’re still frozen next to Wakatoshi, realization washing over you like the cold floods of the  Tamagawa. 

“Is everything okay?” He asks again, cradling your face in his hands to make you look at him. You blink to clear your mind, wish you could just lean into his touch and disappear forever.

“You know what school I went to, right?”

“Aoba Johsai, yes. You were a manager for their volleyball team.”

“Yes,” He must have realized the truth already, still he asks you to say it out loud. “I’m still friends with the team, like you are with yours. They are not… They’re not fans of you.”

“I understand.” Wakatoshi nods. His hands slip away from your face, you miss them immediately.

You didn’t plan for it to go like this. He’s got an uncanny ability to make you open yourself up. Being vulnerable feels less scary when it’s him. 

He takes your hand again, guides you around the park for another round as you tell him all there is to know about your poor attempts at dating. How it sucks to be “just one of the boys” sometimes. How it hurts that they don’t even ask anymore if you’ve got a second date. How scary it is to admit to them that you’re dating him.

You bite your tongue after those last words. You’ve been on two dates so far, this is your third. Is it too forward to call this “dating”? What if he’s not-

“I understand if you want to keep this a secret for longer,” he says. His voice is heavy in a way that tells you that there’s more to it. 

Two things can be true at the same time. Understanding it won’t mean that he’ll appreciate it.

“I will… I will try and talk to them,” you promise. And you will. Even if you could keep this a secret, you won’t if it hurts him. And you can tell that it hurts.

-

You wish you could kiss him goodbye. But you can tell that he’s distanced himself, put up a wall to protect his heart. 

“On Wednesday we usually meet up to drink beer and play games,” you explain, wringing your hands, “They should all be there right now. Well, except Kyoutani. I will... I will go and talk to them right now.”

He nods. Your voice breaks a little when you ask. “Are we still- Are we still on for Friday?”

“Of course,” his deep voice soothes your anxious heart a little. You take a step forward and hug him, stiff and awkward, before you move back.

“I really like you, Wakatoshi,” you say before you can take it back, swallow it down, hide it from the world. 

“I like you too.”

- - -

Makki is already buzzed when he opens the door.

It’s probably not the best time to talk about things like this, but you want to get this over with. If you talk about it now, the dust will settle by Friday. Or so you hope.

There’s an iPad on the coffee table, Iwaizumi and Oikawa grinning back at you. You accept a beer, almost drop it with how jumpy you are, your legs unable to stay still.

“So, how was your date?” Makki asks, cutting off one of Oikawa’s rants.

“Good,” you say and take another sip of beer, “We met Kyoutani at the park.”

“Oh?” Mattsun looks up from his phone. “So you met the girl he fancies?”

“Maybe,” you shrug, unwilling to give up his secret. He’s got his one fears to face. 

“What you mean, dear Mattsun,” Makki teases, “Is that Kyoutani met her boyfriend.”

Oikawa gasps dramatically. “No way?! You got a boyfriend? Who is it!”

“Ushijima,” you say, ripping the bandaid off in one swoop.

Makki cackles, spurned on by Oikawa’s apparent confusion.

“Good one,” Mattsun jokes as Iwaizumi snorts. The younger players don’t think the joke’s that funny. It’s Kunimi who bothers you the most, his perceptive eyes locked onto your face.

“Guys,” he cuts through the laughter, “She’s serious.”

And it would have turned out better, you suppose, without the beer. Because Oikawa gets more petulant when drunk and Makki’s jokes are a bit less funny and a lot more mean when he’s buzzed. The younger guys don’t really know how to mediate. That has always been your job, or Iwaizumi’s. But the distance does not work in your favor.

You leave half an hour after you’ve arrived, angry tears streaming down your face. 

It’s always the people closest to you that hurt you the most. They know what parts of you are the most sensible, and which parts of you are still bruised, still in the process of healing.

You press your phone to your ear.

Wakatoshi picks up right away.

“I talked to them,” you press out. Your voice is doing funny things again and you swallow back another wave of tears, less motivated by anger and more by hurt.

“Do you want to come over?” He asks and you don’t hesitate to agree.

It hurts to fight, to possibly lose good friends over something as stupid as old rivalries, but Wakatoshi is good at soothing over it, with warm hands and the gentle rumble of his voice as he holds you close.

-

You don’t meet up with the boys on Friday. No one has bothered to invite you.

You watch Wakatoshi practice instead, laughing about Kageyama who pesters you about how to better his form - you’re a licensed sports therapist after all - and teasing Hoshiumi who fake gags every time you throw Wakatoshi a kiss. 

You move your date to Wakatoshi’s apartment, cook dinner together - it turns out pretty decent - and talk through the night. When you wake up in his arms on Saturday morning you know that you want this to go on, that you want this to be a relationship that lives instead of dies, one that strengthens over time.

- - -

You’re a little surprised to find Mattsun and Makki at your work. 

It’s Wednesday and they should be working too, well, at least Mattsun should.

“Iwaizumi called us every day,” Mattsun admits eventually, “Apparently we’ve been dicks.”

“Yeah,” you tell him bluntly, noticing that Makki’s still stubbornly staring out of the window. “You were.”

“Oikawa’s still pissed,” Mattsun admits next, taking a seat in front of your desk. “But he’ll get around. Kunimi pointed out that it was a blind date. You didn’t actively pick him.”

“Even if-” You start but Mattsun just shakes his head. “It’s Oikawa. Logic does not pull.”

“I’m only apologizing-” Makki interrupts, huffs, and continues, “I’ll only apologize if you do too.” He glares at you. Mattsun’s looking too, though his eyes are softer.

Finally, you nod and get up, offering your hand for Makki to shake.

“I’m sorry I made fun of you. It’s not your fault that you got fired.”

He huffs again. You know that sound. He sounds like that when he’s trying not to cry. And you suppose you can’t fault him for that. Friends just know where it hurts the most.

But he shakes your hand, his grip a bit firmer than it needs to be.

“I’m sorry that I called you an ugly bitch that has no game.”

Suddenly you can’t help but laugh. It flows freely, from deep within, has you bending over the desk as you cackle. They laugh along, softly first before it breaks out of them too.

“All good?” Makki asks when you eventually calm down.

“All good,” you agree, looking over at Mattsun. He shrugs. “Don’t look at me, I’ve always been good.”

“Sure,” you joke, “But just so you know, I’ll bring Wakatoshi along tonight.”

Makki rolls his eyes. “Whatever. I’ll smoke him at Mario Kart.”

As it turns out, however, Wakatoshi smokes him.

Who knew he had it in him?

.

-.- Warsaw -.-

The front door closes with a soft click, alerting you.

“Shh!” You hiss at the boys before turning toward the door of the living room. 

“Hey honey, welcome home!”

“Hi,” Wakatoshi steps inside, spots the beer and your laptop screen and waves. “Beers and Games?”

“Yeah, but it’s not that important.” You get up to kiss him, ignoring Makki who’s trying to make a point of his importance. “You wanna go out to eat?”

“Can we stay in?” He asks, “There’s this new movie that Satori recommended.”

“Yeah, sure,” you nod. “Go shower. I’ll make some food.”

He smiles and leans in for another kiss, waving at the camera before he leaves for the bathroom.

“So he doesn’t know, huh?” Mattsun asks as you pick up your laptop and carry it to the kitchen.

“No, I want to tell him tonight. Thanks for not spoiling it guys.”

“Anytime,” Kindaichi pipes in. You bet he’s got no clue what you’re talking about. “What are you making?”

“Golabki,” you answer, “Cabbage roles. I’ve been obsessed with these lately.” 

You catch up while you cook, eager to hear more about Kindaichi’s budding relationship or Makki’s latest work adventure. Even Kyoutani contributes a lot today, proudly talking about how Yachi has won a prize for one of her designs.

At some point Wakatoshi appears, leaning into you as you work. He likes to be in the way when you facetime the team, thinks it’s funny that Makki has named him “the Log” or that he’s always blocking the drawer you need to get to the most.

“Move,” you tell him, pulling at his thighs. Behind him’s the cutlery you need to set the table.

“There’s a price for that,” he tells you quietly. You roll your eyes and move to kiss him. He shuffles slightly to the side, now blocking the cabinet that hides the plates.

-

It’s only after dinner, your laptop put away, the dishes done, that you find yourself back on the Couch, cuddled into him.

“Wakatoshi,” you address him, your hands shoved under his shirt. His eyes have closed but he’s still awake, you can tell by his breathing.

“Hmm?”

“Remember how we were talking about what we wanted to do on your next break?”

“Yes?” He opens one eye to squint at you. “Do you still want to go back to Japan?”

“I wouldn’t mind it,” you confess, “But we talked it through. It’s not feasible and I’ve got a better idea.”

That has him opening both his eyes. He can sense that something’s coming and you nestle further into him. 

You like to surprise him, for sure. You love how quiet he gets when you do something special for him, almost unsure if he deserves it. If this is really just for him. But that doesn’t mean you don’t get flustered by your feelings for him once in a while.

“I got us tickets to Paris,” you tell him quietly. “Tendō already knows.”

When he pulls you close he doesn’t have to say anything. You already know.

He misses his best friend just as much as you miss yours.

[cottonlemonade]

Wingman On Crutches

word count: 571 || avg. reading time: 2 mins.

pairing: Matsukawa x chubby!Reader (feat. Parts of Seijoh 4)

genre: fluff

warnings: some swearing

request: Menu B with strawberry milk, matcha pudding and a matcha roll. I slide right next to Mattsun || fluffy, jealous classmate crush Matsukawa, as manager

“Why is she talking to him?”, Issei huffed. Iwaizumi followed his eyes and suppressed a sigh when he saw Makki talking to you somewhere on the side of the court. You were placing towels and water bottles down in pairs so the players could easily grab them.

“Because they’re friends.”, the ace observed, bouncing a volleyball off his friend’s head to get his attention back for training, “Come on, we gotta warm up.”

“If I would have twisted my ankle like that Victorian lady over there I could sit out practice and talk to y/n.”, Issei grumbled.

“Then why don’t you ask Makki to trade you his injuries for a curry bun?”, Iwaizumi asked, sarcastically.

“You‘re not funny.“

“Good, wasn‘t trying to be. - Get your ass over there so I can toss to you, come on. Don‘t make me pair up with Shittykawa.“

In view of his friend‘s nerves being on the line, Issei obliged and reluctantly turned his back to you to face Iwaizumi.

For a minute or two they threw the ball back and forth, then your distinct laugh rang through the gym and Issei all but pulled a muscle to turn around.

You were doubled over, both arms around your supremely squishy tummy as Makki continued to say something undoubtedly dumb.

“Quick, Iwa, spike the volleyball over there.“, he urged.

“Why?“

“To stop them!?“

“From… laughing?“

“YES! First it‘s laughing, then it‘s inside jokes, then it‘s hanging out just those two, then one day he’ll accidentally brush her hand while they reach for something together and boom! They’re married!“

“You really have to stop watching TV with your sister, dude.“

Before Iwaizumi could stop him, Issei called, “Yo, Makki! Hobble over here for a sec, will ya?“

Makki gave you a quick little bow, excusing himself and used his crutches to laboriously get to his friends.

“What‘s up? Want me to count or something?“

“What did you talk about with y/n?“

“What?“

“What did you say to make her laugh? You know she is off limits, dude. I called dibs like two years ago!“

Makki blinked.

“I know. I told her about that time we went to the movies and I almost wet my pants because of a jumpscare and you weren‘t even fazed by it.“

“You- you did?“

Makki nodded, “Yeah and how you helped your little brother with his school project the other week.“

“He failed that assignment.“, Matsukawa admitted quietly.

“Not the point. I was talking you up, dude! As if I‘d ever go behind your back.“ Makki used a crutch to hit his friend’s leg.

Issei rubbed his thigh and felt his eyes starting to sting.

“Bro…“

“I know, I know. I told her, you and I wanted to go to the store after practice for curry buns but I will conveniently remember that I have to get home to help my mom with dinner so you can be alone.“

Tears were definitely threatening to fall now and Issei put a hand on his friend‘s shoulder, “I love you.“

A volleyball hit Issei‘s head for a second time that afternoon and when he turned he saw Iwaizumi‘s face twitching with impatience.

Before he got back to the drills he lowered his voice and said, “Could you casually somehow slip in how intimidated all of you feel when we shower together after training?“

Makki squinted, then sighed.

“I‘ll… see what I can do.“

a/n: someone please come and collect this man.

This request is for 🫀anon. Thank you so much for this silly request! I hope it was what you imagined and thank you also for your kind words ^^ please enjoy 🌟

[waveoftheocean]

it's been nearly two years since i first drew this piece but i have finally managed to color it in a way that i'm satisfied with!!! 😤 (original ver here)

07.20.23 happy birthday oikawa <333

[raisunomii]

Iwaizumi Hajime eats a centipede on a dare yes he chops the pincers off first. Hanamaki dared him during a sleepover it was 1am. Hajime spent 3 hours in the backyard looking for a centipede under rocks Matsukawa found it. Oikawa held the flashlight. Iwaizumi eats it live it’s not that he wants to do this. He throws up afterward. It’s just that his friends are pricks who chant until he eats the centipede. He gargles with mouthwash not one not two but three times. Matsukawa laughs so hard he cries. Oikawa chokes.

[fangirlism-for-life]

All men do is lie

Bcs wtf is this?? And they cant use the 'it was team bonding' or 'it was for volleyball' bcs some of those aren't even in that context like they're genuinely hanging out

[syuga-s]

you're my home, so take me there

w.c. 7k pairing. time skip!hanamaki takahiro x fem!reader genre. filthy friends to lovers 👅 a/n. NSFW MDNI !!! if you can't tell who's my favorite boy in haikyuu then i don't know what to tell you, smut!, porn with a little plot, THEY LOVE EACH OTHER YOUR HONOR, mentions of wine, implied vacations with the seijoh four, fluff at times, not exactly cheating but you're going out with Kita in this onE AANNDDD, idk it's hot

The sultry evening air enveloped you in a warm, sticky embrace, heavy with the heady fragrance of tropical blooms. The moonlit terrace of the rented villa was the perfect setting for a relaxing night with your longtime friend, Makki. As you sat side by side, you could feel the stress and worries of your daily lives melting away under the gentle caress of the warm breeze.

The soft rustle of palm fronds provided a soothing soundtrack to your quiet conversation, punctuated only by the occasional chirping of crickets and distant laughter from neighboring villas. This was a moment to savor, a peaceful escape from the chaos of the outside world.

As the other guys drifted off to sleep, leaving only the two of you under the tranquil gaze of the moon, Makki's deep voice cut through the stillness. His eyes, bright with the reflected light, held a warmth that mirrored the balmy summer night. 

The gentle rustle of leaves and chirping of crickets provided a soothing soundtrack to his words. “I'm glad we came,” he said, his genuine smile spreading across his lips like a sunrise. "It's been too long since I've had the chance to spend time with you." A cool breeze carried the scent of the sea, adding to the serene atmosphere of the moment.

You smiled and nodded, trying to hide the disappointment of not being able to spend more time with your close friend Makki. 

"So, how are things going between you and Kita?" he asked, a mischievous glint dancing in his eyes.

As soon as he brought up Kita, your heart sank. You knew he couldn't resist prying into your love life, and you didn't know how much longer you could dodge the question without revealing the truth.

Your mind raced as you tried to come up with a response that wouldn't give away the complicated and confusing feelings you had for Kita. "Oh, um…" you began with a sigh, knowing that there was not an answer you could give without betraying your true emotions.

Makki, ever the persistent one, playfully nudged you with a gentle touch. His eyes sparkled with curiosity as he urged you to open up. "Come on, spill the details," he teased, his voice laced with genuine interest.

You hesitated, unsure of how to articulate the complex emotions swirling within you. Finally, you managed to utter, "We're... good." But there was a hint of vagueness in your admission.

Makki's smile faltered slightly. "Just good?" he prodded, sensing that there was more to the story.

You took a deep breath and tried to put your feelings into words. "Well, yeah," you began, the words tumbling out in a rush. "It's just that we've not had any real conversations about where things are headed."

Makki raised an eyebrow, his expression thoughtful. "So you haven't told him how you feel yet?" he surmised, his voice tinged with understanding.

A sense of vulnerability washed over you as you nodded.

"More like he hasn't told me what we are yet," you confessed, feeling exposed in front of Makki. "And I don't want to be the one to bring it up."

Makki's eyes flickered with a mix of sympathy and amusement as he regarded you, understanding the complexities of your situation. His gentle tone encouraged you to search deeper into your thoughts.

As Makki's suggestion of you being the one to bring up that conversation, hung in the air, you scoffed at the idea that Kita might be waiting for you to take the lead in defining your relationship. The notion seemed absurd and almost comical in the mid all of your uncertainty. However, beneath your dismissive facade, a seed of doubt took root, whispering about missed opportunities and the lot of possibilities.

"Maybe because I don't know if he truly likes me or if he just finds me physically attractive," you mumbled, the thought suddenly occurring to you. "He never shows any genuine interest in me beyond my body."

A scowl tugged at your lips as you pushed away memories of your most intimate moments together. "He could easily be with anyone else for all he cares," you added, the sting of your own rejection sharpening your words.

The silence between you and Makki was so heavy that it felt like he had fallen asleep. But then, in a sudden burst of candor, he spoke up.

"That sounds familiar," he admitted. Your brow furrowed in confusion. "Remember when I was dating that girl from Hawaii? What was her name again?" A chuckle escaped your lips as a vivid memory flooded your mind.

"Marie," you replied with a grin. "The one who adored everything French and pretended she could speak it." He joined in on your laughter.

"Yeah, Marie. She used to say things like, 'Oh Hiro I love your accent,' or, 'Can I have some of that chocolat cake please?'" He mimicked her exaggerated intonation, causing you to laugh even harder at the ridiculousness of it all.

As the moon peeked out from behind a cloud, its soft light illuminated his face and playful demeanor on the terrace. He shrugged off his shirt and the warm night air caressed his bare skin as he settled back into his shorts. You couldn't help but protest, your eyes flickering away from the alluring sight before you. 

With a smirk, he flexed his biceps and teased you while enjoying the playful banter. "Put a shirt on, Makki," you pleaded, trying to resist his teasing.

"What's wrong? Can't handle the view?" he quipped, the moonlight sparkled in his mischievous eyes. "Don't worry, I'll keep it PG-13," he reassured with a wave of his hand.

"Make yourself comfortable," he said, gesturing for you to relax next to him.

You couldn't help but roll your eyes in mock exasperation as his words washed over you, laced with subtle suggestions. His smooth voice and charming smile were like a siren's call, drawing you in despite your best efforts to resist.

"I'm just saying," he persisted, undeterred by your dismissive response. "If you're not interested, I'm sure there are plenty of others who would be."

Your cheeks flushed at the implication and you turned away, trying to regain your composure. But the memory of his touch lingered on your skin, making it hard to resist his advances.

As he urged you to stay with him, his words mingled with the gentle breeze that wrapped around both of you. The weight of his persuasion hung in the air, tempting you to give in to the desire that simmered just beneath the surface.

But as you stood on the brink of surrender, doubt wormed its way into your mind, casting shadows over your resolve. You hesitated, torn between the excitement of his closeness and the indecision of your own desires.

"Are you sure about this?" you asked, your voice trembling with doubt.

His reassuring tone mingled with the cool night air as he responded, "Of course. It's completely normal. Besides, you really don't need that shirt right now" 

In a single moment, he lured you into his web of persuasion and you felt yourself surrendering to his will. With a heavy sigh, you stripped away your clothes and sank onto a lounge chair beside him, gazing up at the endless expanse of stars above. 

The cool night air brushed against your bare skin, a reminder of the freedom that awaited beyond the constraints of societal expectations. "Was that so difficult?" he taunted playfully, his laughter mingling with the rustle of palm fronds in the breeze.

"Shut up," you grumbled half-heartedly, a shy smile tugging at your lips. 

His warm gaze enveloped you, a silent acknowledgment of your newfound liberation. Like a phoenix rising from its ashes, basking in the sensation of self-acceptance, shedding the weight of societal norms with each passing moment. 

"But really, why are you so afraid to show your body around me?" he prodded gently, genuine concern coloring his curious tone. 

"I'm not," you denied weakly, though your flushed cheeks gave away your true feelings. In this moment of raw intimacy, a whirl of conflicting emotions swirled within you. Yet amidst the chaos, a sense of calm washed over you like a soothing balm.

As you stood there illuminated by the moon's gentle glow, it dawned on you that the lines between friendship and something more had blurred beyond recognition. And in that brief moment of vulnerability, you found solace in his comforting presence—a reminder that home wasn't just a physical place but also a state of mind; a sense of belonging that surpassed all your limits.

"Are you finally going to gather the courage to tell him?" his voice pierced through the eerie stillness, echoing the burning question that tormented your soul.

"I-I guess I have no choice," you conceded, his words weighing on your heart like a leaden anchor.

"About time. I'm tired of watching you two dance around each other," he remarked, exasperation seeping into his tone.

"Thanks for the support," you deadpanned, shooting him an annoyed glance as a wry smile tugged at your lips.

"Anytime," he chuckled, his laughter bouncing in your ears as he flashed you a cheeky grin.

"But seriously, I'm genuinely happy for you," he added, his expression softening with sincere affection.

As the night went on, the headiness of the wine enveloped you in a warm haze, blurring the edges of your inhibitions. Each sip brought a sense of weightlessness and calm, washing away the burdens of the day like a gentle tide.

"How are you feeling now? More relaxed?" he asked, cutting through the fog of your thoughts with his sharp voice.

"Definitely more than just relaxed," you admitted with a soft smile playing on your lips.

"You know that this isn't going anywhere, right?" he declared with a mischievous glint in his eye as he swiftly removed your shirt, leaving it abandoned among the scattered remnants of your inhibitions.

"We can put that away later in your room," he suggested, tossing the garment aside without a care. "Perfect," he remarked with satisfaction, his hand resting on your thigh in a silent display of intimacy.

His words hung in the air like a guillotine, slicing through the thin veneer of your composure. The intensity of his gaze bore into you like hot coals, searing your soul with its relentless probing. A gnawing unease gripped at your resolve, threatening to unravel the carefully constructed walls around your heart.

"I won't talk to Shinsuke, I don't think I—" you circled back to the prior subject.

"Why not?" he persisted, his voice gentle yet insistent as he pushed for answers that you were not ready to give. You felt exposed, vulnerable under his unwavering scrutiny.

"I can't," you whispered, a tremor of fear laced with regret trembling in your voice.

His arm found its way to your shoulder, offering silent comfort and support during your turmoil. But even that was not enough to quell the rising tide of uncertainty within you.

Hours passed in a blur of laughter and confessions, but the weight of his unspoken question still lingered between you. As the night wore on and the wine bottle emptied, you found yourself shedding inhibitions and basking in the warmth of his presence.

But when it was time to part ways, the promise of tomorrow weighed heavy on your mind.

Alone in the silence of your room, the moonlight casting eerie shadows on the walls, you shed all pretenses and allowed yourself to be consumed by thoughts of Makki.

A soft knock at the door shattered the stillness, sending a jolt of anticipation through your veins. "Who is it?" you called out, barely able to contain the excitement in your voice.

The voice that responded was deep and resonant, but it carried a hint of familiarity that sent a thrill through your body. It was Makki, using the nickname only he knew you by. You stood with bated breath, waiting for him to enter and shatter or fulfill all your hopes and fears. The anticipation hung heavy in the air as if time itself had slowed down in this moment of possibility. 

Every sound seemed amplified - the creak of the door opening, the rustle of fabric as he stepped inside, the thud of his weight on the floor. Your heart beat faster, unsure of what was about to happen, but unable to resist the pull towards him.

You clutched the soft, silky bedsheet to your chest, a rush of anticipation mingling with a hint of apprehension as you awaited his arrival. The room seemed to shrink in size, the walls closing in around you as the seconds stretched into eternity. Every creak and rustle of fabric seemed amplified, making your heart race even faster.

“Excuse me? Are you sleeping here too?” Your voice broke through the silence, pulling yourself from the depths of your own thoughts. You turned to see him standing beside the bed, tall and confident, his presence filling the room.

“Me? Of course, didn’t you know?” he replied casually, his words laced with an air of nonchalance that belied the tension crackling beside you.

"Know what?" you asked, your voice betraying a hint of confusion.

"That I'm staying here," he clarified, his tone matter-of-fact.

"Here, as in my room?" you repeated a note of disbelief creeping into your voice.

"Yes, why not?" he shrugged, as if the idea of sharing your space was the most natural thing in the world. Your mind reeled at the thought of him sleeping in your bed.

"Well, I thought maybe you would want your own bed," you mumbled, feeling suddenly awkward.

"What's wrong with sharing a bed?" he countered, his brow furrowing slightly in confusion. You bit your lip nervously, unsure how to respond.

"Nothing! Nothing is wrong with sharing a bed!" you hastily assured him, wishing you could erase the words the second they left your mouth. "But..."

“I was not aware of this. Should I go to the sofa?” you offered tentatively, trying to hide your inner turmoil. The prospect of his presence so close to yours sent a jolt of nervous energy coursing through your veins.

“The sofa? No!��Don’t worry, stay with me. It’s just me, Makki,” he reassured his words a soothing balm easing your worries.

“I sleep on this side, you sleep there on that side and we’ll have no problems,” he continued, his voice tinged with an underlying confidence that left no room for argument. You nodded, your mind still racing with conflicting thoughts.

“Sure…” you trailed off, trying to push away the nagging doubts in your mind.

It’s just that… what if things get awkward? What if I can’t sleep? What if… 

“Are you gonna sleep naked too?” you blurted out, the words tumbling from your lips before you could stop them. Your cheeks flushed with embarrassment as you realized how forward and vulnerable your question sounded. But Makki simply chuckled, his eyes sparkling mischievously.

"Huh?" he responded to your question, his eyebrow quirking up in curiosity.

"Naked. Are you going to sleep naked?" you repeated, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks at the boldness of your inquiry.

"Well yeah, how else am I supposed to sleep?" he replied nonchalantly, a hint of amusement in his voice.

You couldn't believe how casual he was being about this conversation. "Right, why did I even ask..." you muttered, scolding yourself for your lack of composure.

"Well, how else does one sleep? I'm not like you, I mean those," he gestured towards your bralette with a smirk, "must be uncomfortable and bad for your chest."

"Actually, they provide more support and can help prevent sagging," you countered, trying to justify your choice of undergarments.

"You have nice tits," he stated matter-of-factly as if it were a simple fact of life.

You felt a rush of heat flood your face at his comment. "Thanks?" you replied awkwardly.

"So... shall I take them off for you?" he asked mischievously, his eyes sparkling with playful intent.

"Yes. I mean... No! No. I'll do it myself," you stammered, flustered by his forwardness.

"Okay then," he said with a chuckle, leaning back against the pillows and watching as you quickly removed your bra and tossed it onto the nightstand.

"There, happy now?" you asked with a hint of defensiveness in your tone, trying to hide your embarrassment.

"Very. And now you're officially a 'bad girl'," he whispered back huskily, his deep voice sending shivers down your spine.

"I don't think so..." you mumbled under your breath, unsure of how to respond.

"Oh, but you are," he insisted with a smirk, his hand beginning to trail down your collarbones towards your chest.

"What do you mean?" you demanded, feeling a mix of indignation and excitement at his touch.

"You didn't tell me to stop, did you? In fact, you told me to continue and even took off your own clothes," he reminded you with a raised eyebrow and a playful grin.

"But... " you started to say, the heat of shame flooding your face once more.

"Don't tell me you want to put that back on?" he teased, leaning in closer until his warm breath tickled your ear.

"Not exactly. I mean..." you trailed off, unable to form a coherent response.

He chuckled at your flustered state but continued to trace gentle patterns on your skin with his fingertips, sending shivers of pleasure through you.

"What the hell are you doing?" you laughed nervously, turning slightly so that you could see him better.

"Nothing," he replied innocently, his eyes twinkling mischievousy. "But I was wondering..."

"Wondering what?" you challenged, trying to catch your breath as his hand moved lower towards your waist.

"Well, nothing really," he answered nonchalantly, his grin growing wider. "Just curious about something."

"About what?" you asked impatiently, feeling his fingers dance dangerously close to your most intimate area.

"Oh come on, you know what I'm talking about," he said teasingly, his eyes sparkling with amusement.

"Oh God, are you really going to do this now? Of all times?" you exclaimed with wide eyes and a nervous laugh.

"Hey, a man has to find some fun somehow," he shot back with a shrug before playfully tickling your sides and making you squirm beneath him.

"Stop!" you gasped between giggles, trying to push his hands away.

"You're very touchy, aren't you?" you remarked. He was clearly enjoying your reactions.

"We're just having fun, aren't we?" he added, his fingers now tracing featherlight patterns on your bare skin.

"Naked and touchy," you retorted with a playful pout, feeling the heat between your bodies growing more intense.

With one swift movement of his legs, he pulled the bedsheet down past your waist, leaving you fully exposed once again.

"I thought you said you weren't going to look," you pouted, feeling both embarrassed and aroused.

"Did I say that? No, I don't believe I did," he replied with a teasing glint in his eye.

"Well then," you challenged, feeling empowered by his gaze. "If you're going to look, I get to do whatever I want."

"Have fun with me then," he invited playfully, his hand moving higher towards your chest as he continued to explore every inch of your body with his eyes.

"Don't you have a girlfriend?" you asked suddenly, feeling a pang of guilt at the thought of being intimate with someone who was already in a relationship.

He shrugged nonchalantly.

"No, not really," he admitted with a sheepish grin. But as he spoke, his eyes darkened with an intense desire that sent shivers down your spine.

"But, I'm not opposed to the idea," he added, a sly smile tugging at the corners of his mouth as his hand trailed up your bare arm, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake.

"Interesting," you mused, trying to keep your composure and hide the effect his touch was having on you. But his gaze lingered on your exposed skin, making it hard for you to focus.

"So, are you going to show me the goods or not?" His voice was low and seductive, causing a fire to ignite within you.

"Show you 'the goods'? Are you twelve?" You couldn't resist teasing back, your own lips curling into a mischievous smile.

“Don’t you have someone waiting for you back home?” you asked boldly now, turning to face him and resting on your arm. You could see the hunger burning in his eyes and it only fueled your desire.

"Why would you think that?" His large smile mirrored yours, but there was an intensity behind it that betrayed his playful facade.

“Your face tells me you have a few chicks here and there.” Your words were like a challenge, daring him to be honest with you.

“My face? My face tells you all that?” he questioned, tilting his head in confusion. "Come on now, we've always been good friends. You can tell me the truth," you urged, his hands still wandering over your body without reservation.

"Oh well, you could say that." His own admission only seemed to excite you more.

“With all your open-mindedness and talk of threesomes all the way through college, I would've sworn you always had someone waiting for you back home.” The words slipped out before you could stop yourself. But instead of getting defensive, he only chuckled and drew closer to you.

“Threesomes? I do like them… but never in my life. And it’s been a while since I had a girlfriend actually.” His words were like a confession, and you couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction.

He pinched your waist once again, his touch sending sparks through your body. “Are you always thinking about me when you contemplate the idea of threesomes?,” he whispered, his lips brushing against your ear.

"What do you mean? It's normal for us to talk about that stuff, right?" You tried to play it cool, but inside your heart was racing with excitement and anticipation.

"Don't change the subject Makki, you're telling me there's no one at home... I call bullshit." You called out his bluff, your voice low and seductive as he continued to explore your body with his hands and lips.

“You know that’s not me. But I'd do whatever to make you laugh.” He confessed.

You tried to maintain your playful facade, but the intensity between the two of you was becoming too much to ignore.

“So, you’re not a player?” You asked, turning away from him now in an attempt to regain control of your emotions.

“Nope, not a player. Never have been.” His words were followed by the feeling of him pressing up behind you, his arms wrapping around your waist and pulling you closer to him.

You turned again to face him, unable to resist the pull towards him any longer. And all he could do was get closer to you, his lips crashing onto yours in an intense kiss that left you breathless. “Yeah, right,” you managed to say between kisses. "Thank god you didn’t lie to my face."

"Don't you dare call me a liar," he growled, his hands exploring every inch of your body in a way that made it hard for you to think straight. "Not today, especially after such a nice little moment together." 

His words were filled with both desire and warning, but you couldn't bring yourself to care as his touch sent waves of pleasure through your body.

"Don't tempt me," you whispered, your own hands running through his hair as you gave in completely to the intensity between the two of you.

His words were a low growl against your skin, sending shivers down your spine as you felt his hot breath near your neck. You could practically feel the intensity of his gaze as he spoke, warning you not to provoke him any further. But even as his grip tightened and he whispered soothingly in your ear, his fingertips still trailed dangerously along the curves of your body.

"Please," you pleaded, unable to hide the tremor in your voice.

His grasp tightened even more, causing a sharp pain to shoot through your waist. "Why would you call me a liar?" he demanded, his dark eyes piercing into yours.

Your back arched instinctively as he pressed closer, his whole body hovering over you like a predator ready to pounce. "It's so obvious, Makki," you retorted, fighting back the urge to give in to his teasing game.

"Oh really? Then tell me how," he challenged, a sly smirk pulling at the corners of his lips.

"It's written all over your face," you shot back with an eye roll.

"If I was lying, I wouldn't hesitate to take what I want from you," he breathed against your skin, making your heart race.

"W-What are you talking about?" you stammered, feeling a heat creeping up your cheeks.

"You know exactly what I mean," he whispered huskily, drawing a shuddering gasp from your lips as his mouth grazed along the sensitive skin of your neck.

"Are you complaining?" he asked with a hint of amusement in his voice.

"N-No," you admitted, struggling to keep yourself composed under his intense gaze.

"Good," he murmured before continuing. "Now, where were we?"

"I think you were telling me about all the girls you've had," you prompted, a teasing edge to your voice.

"Ah, yes," he chuckled, his fingers tracing lazy patterns along the dip of your waist.

"Well, there was this one girl, I met her like 14 years ago, she was gorgeous since then," he began, his tone wistful.

"She had these amazing curves," he continued, his hands skimming along the swell of your hips.

"And her ass," he groaned, his grip tightening. "Fuck, her ass," he repeated, this time with a hint of awe in his voice.

You asked. "What happened with her?"

"She told me she was falling in love with me and me being the ass I am, didn't know what to do and I never said anything back."

"She still acts as if nothing happened after she told me that but I've never stopped thinking about her and how we could be together right now if hadn't been so stupid back then."

"I don't want to sound arrogant, but I've never met another woman who compared to her. I know she has a boyfriend and everything, but for some reason, I keep on dreaming about her."

When he revealed that she had confessed her love to him and he had foolishly let her slip away, you couldn't help but wonder if he was talking about you.

"You never stopped thinking about her?" you asked softly, unable to hide the hope in your voice.

"Never," he replied, his fingers trailing along your body with such tenderness that it made your heart ache.

"I can't help but dream about what my life could be with her," he admitted, his voice laced with regret.

You couldn't stop yourself from leaning into him, wanting to soothe the pain in his words. "I don't think you're being arrogant at all," you whispered, feeling a sense of warmth and familiarity between the two of you.

He pulled back slightly to look into your eyes, searching for any sign of doubt or hesitation. But all he saw was sincerity and understanding shining back at him.

"Thank you," he said with a genuine smile before leaning in to capture your lips in a gentle kiss.

As his arms wrapped around you and pulled you closer, you knew that this intense moment was just the beginning of something even more powerful between the two of you.

He pulled you closer, his arms wrapping around your body and his lips hovering near your ear. 

Inhaling deeply, you felt your breath become ragged as his pant sent shivers down your spine. "Maybe you should have told her all that way sooner," you murmured.

Confused, he turned to look at you. "What do you mean?" 

"I mean, maybe she still thinks about you too, and wants you to tell her," you explained to him, trying to ease the worry in his eyes. 

"But, she has a boyfriend," he said as if you needed a reminder.

"He's not a ‘boyfriend’, Makki," you told him earnestly. 

"But haven't you two been together for a while?" 

"Kinda," you admitted, unsure of where this conversation was heading. "What does that have to do with anything?" 

"It has everything to do with it," he replied cryptically. 

"Remember when we were sitting on the terrace together?”—"the night you told me you were falling in love with me?" he recalled slowly. 

"Of course I do," you confirmed, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips.

"You took my hand without saying anything," you continued, remembering the sweet yet nerve-wracking moment. "And held it," he added quietly. "Then I took a deep breath and pulled away." 

"Did you still think I was just playing around back then?" 

"No, not really," you answered softly. "I always saw something different in you compared to other guys."

He chuckled teasingly. "Like how I was always carrying your things or getting in trouble just to make you laugh?” 

"Yeah, stuff like that," you replied with a fond smile.

"See? So if I grabbed you like this and was really the player you claim I am now, I would actually do it," he joked playfully. You couldn't help but laugh at his antics, rolling your eyes at his exaggerated approach.

You suddenly felt a gentle touch on your leg and looked down to see his hand gently caressing the skin of your thigh. Meeting his gaze, you saw the mischievous glint in his eyes as he watched the movement of his own hand. You were surprised by his boldness, but then again, it was just like him to playfully tease and flirt with you. 

Your hands explored each other's bodies beneath the sheets, tracing over familiar contours and discovering new territories. The playful teasing of earlier gave way to a desperate hunger, the years of unspoken desire finally reaching their boiling point.

Nothing had to be discarded as you were already stripped down to your bare skin. The cool air kissed your heated flesh, intensifying every touch. The air in the room felt charged, heavy with a tension that crackled between you and him. Your eyes locked on his, willing him to take this seriously.

He was not a player. He was a tease. And he was a man who clearly wanted you. His eyes roamed over your body, his desire evident in the way he licked his lips and ran a hand through his tousled hair.

"May I continue?" he asked, his voice low and seductive.

Your breath caught in your throat as you nodded, unable to resist the pull of his charisma.

"Good," he murmured, leaning closer until his lips were brushing against your ear. 

"Just relax," he whispered, his touch trailing along your hip before moving up to caress your cheek. "I've always enjoyed our late-night conversations," he said softly. "There's something about the stillness of the night that makes it easier to open up."

A soft blush rose on your cheeks as you met his gaze. "Yeah," you said quietly. "It's like we can be completely ourselves with no one else around."

He smiled warmly, his fingers tracing delicate patterns along your jawline. "And who are you when no one else is watching?" he asked, his voice filled with curiosity and longing.

In that moment, you felt yourself opening up to him. His touch awakened something inside of you, making you feel more alive than ever before. As if he had opened a door to a new world where there were no boundaries and nothing was forbidden.

You took a deep breath, feeling a surge of boldness coursing through your veins. "I'm the kind of person who would rather show you than tell you," you confessed, a shy smile tugging at the corner of your mouth.

"Then show me," he urged desire burning in his dark eyes.

You bit your lip, feeling a rush of nerves and excitement. This wasn't like you, being so forward and bold, but there was something about him that made you want to take risks.

Leaning in, you captured his lips in a passionate kiss that set your senses on fire.

"God, you're so hot," he moaned, his hands eagerly exploring every inch of your skin.

"Shut up," you laughed, the sound breathless and filled with joy.

The kiss was everything you had imagined and more – sweet yet searing hot, gentle yet full of raw passion. His lips moved against yours in a slow dance, each touch igniting a fire within you.

His hands were everywhere, teasing and caressing your body with feather-like touches that left you craving for more.

Your heart raced as your bodies pressed together, your desire for him growing with every passing moment. You needed to feel his hands on your skin, hear his voice whispering sweet nothings in your ear, and lose yourself in the blissful pleasure of being with him.

At this moment, there was nothing else in the world but the two of you. And you couldn't get enough.

With every touch, your skin ignited in flames, a desperate hunger for each other consuming you both. The years of unspoken desire finally reached their breaking point as you devoured each other beneath the sheets, exploring every inch of each other's bodies with a ferocity that left nothing untouched.

You were bare and vulnerable to the cool air that kissed your heated flesh. His hands roamed over your body, igniting a trail of electric sensations that pulsed through your veins.

"I was talking about you earlier," he confessed between kisses, his gaze intense and filled with longing.

"Me?" You feigned innocence, playing along.

"Yes, you," he confirmed with a soft smile.

"I've always thought you were stunning," he declared, his eyes lingering on the curve of your breasts.

"Even when we were younger," he added with a distant look in his eyes.

"And what are we waiting for?" You teased, a coy smile playing on your lips.

"For you to leave that guy who can't seem to make up his mind about you."

"And are you sure about this? About us?" You relented, a mischievous glint in your eye.

"Yes," he affirmed with determination.

"What's on your mind right now?" You asked him with a playful smile.

"How badly I want to fuck you," he growled, his voice low and husky.

"Is that a promise?"

"Absolutely," he vowed, his gaze burning with fiery intensity.

"Then prove it," you challenged with a wicked grin.

He rolled you onto your back, pressing his body against yours as he deepened the kiss. Your senses were overwhelmed by the intoxicating scent of his skin and the delicious taste of his lips.

His hand traveled lower, teasing and tantalizing every inch of your body until it found its way between your thighs. A gasp escaped your lips as his fingers traced over your slick folds, igniting a fire within you with every stroke.

As his fingers plunged inside you, he groaned against your mouth—a symphony of pleasure and longing that sent vibrations straight to your core. You arched your hips in response, silently begging for more.

And he didn't disappoint, moving his fingers faster and deeper until you were panting and desperate for release. But he didn't stop there. No, he pulled away, leaving you yearning for more.

"Did this just come to your mind because you're drunk and horny?" You taunted.

"No, I was never drunk," he replied with a smirk.

He grinned, his eyes filled with mischief and desire. You matched his gaze, your lips curling into a challenging smirk as you playfully questioned if he was still horny. With a low purr, he confirmed that he definitely was.

Unable to resist any longer, you reached between you and wrapped your hand around his hardened length. He shuddered at the touch, his breath hitching as you stroked him slowly from base to tip.

Moaning, he tore himself away from your kiss to trail hot open-mouthed kisses down your neck and collarbone. His lips worshipped every inch of bare skin with fervent devotion until they reached your breasts, his tongue flicking over your hardened nipples.

"More," you begged, desperate for more pleasure.

"Anything," he promised, trailing kisses lower. "Everything for you," he swore as he reached your navel, his tongue swirling teasingly around it.

"Makki..." you moaned out his name as the sensations became too much to bear. But instead of stopping, he continued on, determined to bring you to the brink of ecstasy.

"Shh," he soothed as he moved lower, his breath warm against your skin. "Let me take care of you."

"Please," you whimpered, trembling with anticipation.

"As you wish," he acquiesced before prodding into you with his talented tongue.

You cried out in pleasure, your hands gripping tightly onto his hair as he expertly brought you closer and closer to release. Each touch sent electricity through your body until finally, you were reaching the peak.

"Quiet baby," he warned before ramping up the speed and intensity of his movements. "Come for me."

You moaned in agreement, arching off the bed as waves of pleasure washed over you. "I can't take anymore," you pleaded, but instead of stopping, Makki only went faster, driving you to the edge of ecstasy.

He pulled his lips away from yours, his breath hot against your skin as he spoke. "Not yet," he growled, his deep voice echoing through the room. He shifted his body above you and returned to your lips with a different plan of attack.

As his tongue darted into your mouth, you could taste the faint hint of mint toothpaste and yourself on his mouth. It sent shivers down your spine and made your heart race.

"You taste so good," he moaned between kisses, his hands roaming over your body. His fingers found their way to your breast, tracing patterns on your skin that sent electricity coursing through you.

"Please," you cried out, struggling to catch your breath as he kissed a trail down your neck. "Hiro..."

But instead of stopping, he went faster, leaving a trail of goosebumps in his wake. "No, I'm not done yet," he whispered against your skin, his teeth nipping at your earlobe.

You clenched your teeth, trying to hold yourself together as he brought you to the edge once again. This time, he didn't stop. He held you there, suspended in a haze of pleasure and desire until you thought you might burst.

And just when you thought you couldn't take it any longer, he stopped. Your eyes fluttered open to see him looking down at you with a primal intensity in his eyes.

"What are you doing?" you asked, still lost in the fog of ecstasy.

"We're not finished," he replied firmly, his hand sliding down to cup your cheek. "You're mine, and I'm not done with you."

With a sense of urgency, he positioned himself between your legs and pushed forward, filling you completely in one smooth motion. The sensation was almost overwhelming – a mix of pleasure and pain that made every nerve ending in your body come alive.

He waited for a moment, allowing you to adjust to the exquisite sensation of being joined so intimately. And then, with a primal groan, he set a slow, languid pace.

Each thrust sent waves of pleasure through you, and you could see the desire burning in his eyes as he took you higher and higher. And then, as if he couldn't wait any longer, he picked up the pace – each movement more intense than the last.

"You feel so good," he grunted, his hips rocking against yours with a force that threatened to drive you over the edge. "So fucking perfect."

"Deeper," you begged, your voice filled with desperation. "I want all of you."

He chuckled darkly, his body trembling with exertion as he slammed into you over and over again. "Is that so?" he growled, his voice dripping with primal lust. "You want all of me?"

"Please," you gasped, struggling to keep up with his increasingly frantic pace. "Fuck me like I’m yours."

His touch was possessive and gentle all at once, sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body. You were completely lost in the moment – consumed by the heat and intensity of him.

He reached behind him and grabbed hold of the headboard, using it as leverage as he pounded into you with a relentless rhythm. It was all too much – too much sensation, too much light, too much desire.

It felt like he was reading your mind �� fulfilling every fantasy and dream you had ever had. If he kept this up, you would never want anything else. He owned you completely, and you wouldn't have it any other way.

He was going to take everything from you, and in return, he would give you everything you ever wanted. The anticipation bubbled inside you as his hands roamed over your body, igniting every nerve with fiery need.

"Yes!" you screamed, your voice bouncing off the walls of his bedroom.

"Please don't stop Hiro."

"Whatever you want, princess," he panted, his movements becoming more frenzied as desire consumed him.

"Fuck, I'm close," he warned, his rhythm faltering under the intensity of his passion.

In response, you arched your back and urged him on, your nails digging into his shoulders as waves of pleasure pulsed through your body.

"Come inside me," you pleaded, aching for the sensation of him filling you completely. "I want to feel your cum inside me."

With a guttural groan, he gave in to your request, releasing himself deep inside you as you cried out in ecstasy.

As he collapsed beside you, you wrapped your arms around him and breathed heavily against his chest, basking in the afterglow of your shared passion.

But then a sudden thought hit you and you whispered softly, "Hiro?"

His eyes met yours with tenderness and without hesitation, he declared, "God I'm in love with you."

A small smile tugged at the corners of your mouth as you playfully teased, "You're not my usual type."

With a laugh and a kiss on your forehead, he responded, "I'll make sure to change that."

"Round two?" you asked with a mischievous glint in your eye.

"Definitely," he agreed eagerly, already feeling the familiar stirrings of desire within him once again.

"I can't wait to see what else you have in store for me," you declared playfully.

"I'm going to fuck you so hard," he promised, his cock already growing hard once more.

"Promises, promises," you taunted with a playful smirk.

You couldn't help but laugh as you got off the bed and made your way to the bathroom. As you cleaned up, you couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction and happiness that radiated from within you. 

You knew that Makki would make the perfect partner for you. He was attentive, loving, and passionate – everything you could ever want in a man. 

As you walked back into the bedroom, you couldn't help but notice the way he was watching you. There was a look in his eyes that made your heart flutter – a mix of love, desire, and a hint of possession.

His voice dripped with confidence as his lips curved upwards, revealing a small dimple on his cheek. "Are you ready to get your world rocked again?" he teased, playfully raising an eyebrow.

You couldn't help but laugh and feel a shiver run down your spine at the thought of what your life with Makki would be from now on. You knew that he wasn't one to hold back, and you trusted him completely.

[ollyrewind]

merry chrismn

[ryokawa]

Seijoh 4

[sutaro-min]

[10:15 pm]

game over. game over. game over.

Matsukawa Issei stares, dead eyed, at the screen in front of him as a deep and guttural wave of despair sinks into his gut.

"idiot!" issei winces and pulls his headphones slightly away from his head as makki's voice blares out at full volume. "we could have won that round if you just listened to me!"

issei leans back and crosses his arms over his face. "that loss was all you man. I was the one actually being good at the game."

"no way you're delusional like that..." Issei stretches with a yawn, tuning out makki's usual post-game rant, when a pair of arms slide over his shoulders and gently wraps around his neck. he looks up to meet your eyes that peek out from behind his obnoxiously pink gaming chair.

"hey," you say and lean forward to rest your chin on his shoulder. "lost the game?"

"yeeaah, but maybe if I get a kiss I'll win the next round?" smirking, issei reaches up to draw his fingers through your hair. he settles his hand down on the back of your neck, and you roll your eyes as he gently pulls you closer to him. your lips are mere centimeters apart, and a gleeful issei closes his eyes to get his well deserved incentive.

"issei, is that a girl?!!?"

issei jerks his hand in surprise and accidentally knocks your heads together. "ow." you mutter. your hand goes up to feel the now tender red spot growing in the center of your forehead. in a huff you untangle issei's hand from your hair before moving toward his bed where all your study books have been strewn about.

an indignant issei, also rubbing his head, pulls his headphones back on.

"yes, makki, that was a girl." he rolls his eyes.

"no way. Matsukawa Issei actually has a REAL girl in his room?" Makki laughs. "the boys are gonna go crazy."

issei rolles his eyes. again.

"so who is it?" issei could just imagine makki leaning forward in his chair, eagerly waiting for the chance to embarrass issei in their "seijoh boys" group chat. issei refuses give makki that satisfaction.

he grins. "your sister."

makki goes dead silent.

"hello? you there makki?"

through his headphones, issei hears makki breathing in and letting a steady breath out. "yeah right issei. be serious--who is it?"

"mm, i'm pretty serious about this." issei glances over toward where you are by his bed, putting your textbooks back into your backpack. he furrows his brows and frowns when you stand up to swing your backpack over your shoulder.

"just because you go to the same university as my baby sister does NOT give you the authority to be making jokes like this--"

"hold on man, I gotta deafen for a sec."

"wait what? come on, just give me some serious answe--."

issei clicks the deafen button on his chatting client, effectively shutting up his best friend, and swivels his chair around to fully face you.

"what did makki say?" you ask. issei stands up and walks toward you.

"he didn't believe me when I told him his sister was here." he shrugs.

you hit him gently on his shoulder. "don't tease my brother like that. he was always more weakhearted between the two of us."

Issei spreads his hands out in front of him. "hey, I was only telling him the truth." you shake your head, laughing.

issei tilts his head to one side, then pulls you into his chest. "you leaving?"

you sigh and push your face closer into his shirt. "yeah I should head out before it gets even later. I have an early class tomorrow so..."

issei sighs, resting his chin on your head, when he suddenly pushes back and looks down at you--mischief twinkling in his eyes. He quickly slides his hands into yours, and pulls you back toward his desk. Issei sits down in his chair and nestles your legs in-between his own. due his sheer abundance of height, even sitting the two of you are still almost eye level. "how about this:"

you raise a brow.

"if I win this next game," he continues, "we have a sleepover."

you let out a full laugh this time. "oh man, you are funny huh?"

"hey," issei wines "I'm serious!"

you smile, and your eyes catch on a stray hair that rests against issei's forehead. you reach to brush it back, but issei grabs your hand before you can and intertwines his fingers with yours. "hm? whaddya say?"

you look at him. his eyes give the barest hints of "puppy dog" while still maintaining that cool "I don't care what you decide" smirk. but what melts your reserve is the slight tinge of pink that not-so-subtly creeps up his ears.

"fine," you give an exaggerated sigh, "i'll stay, but only if you win the next round."

issei grins and swivels around toward his setup. He un-deafens in the chatting client and pulls his headphones on again. "hey man you there? I'm back."

"Finally! where have you been?" makki exclaims in neglect. "I've been waiting for the past, like, 15 minutes now."

"sorry man, had to talk to my girl for a sec." issei quickly clicks around the screen to get his character ready, "down for one more round?"

"you know I am, but hold up for sec because 'your girl'?? c'mon man don't bs and just tell me who you have over. i am your best friend you can trust me!”

issei wordlessly turns his mic up to you in response, his eyes never leaving his screen. you lean forward closer to the mic. "issei wasn't lying," you say.

makki falls silent again.

"ready to start the game?" issei's mouse hovers over the Start Game button.

"_____???? WHAT. ARE. YOU. DOING?" Makki shouts. "I'M BOOKING A TICKET TO TOKYO RIGHT NOW AND YOU BETTER BE--"

"okaay, starting!" issei gleams as he once again effectively shuts up his best friend, or (also more accurately) shuts up your brother, and clicks Start Game.

[ an: oop that was longer than i thought it would be so i did not read this through again. just brain rot]

[giustoart]

Haikyuu and The Office mashup ft. Seijoh third years.

[iwasdear]

i've been having this thought about the seijoh 4 stuck in my head for fucking ever and i thought i'd share it.

yall know that one game where iwaizumi clearly slaps makki's butt? im sure they all do that. all the seijoh 3rd years goof around like that. but imagine being one of their s/o's and having to deal with that...

i'll use iwaizumi as an example. you're iwa's partner that decided to visit the team at a practice game. first one to notice you is makki, who simply makes a gesture to mattsun about you being there. they smirk at each other and then they go for oikawa and it on. iwaizumi doesn't notice you're there, actually, until the other three haunt his ass down. i'm talking about smacking his butt, pulling his shirt up to reveal his abs, they're complete menaces. thats when iwaizumi realizes that his lovely s/o is there. and they dont just do actions like that, they go to the point where they will quite literally call iwaizumi theirs and that you have no chance because they saw him first pls im so sick.

and when iwa decides to fuck you in the locker rooms in front of them and they enjoy the show with hungry eyes yes yes YES. one of them has definitely let the other three watch him have sex with his partner and nobody can change my mind.

[dira333]

The World’s most (un)serious Game of Chicken - Hanamaki x Reader

Hanamaki has never been serious a day in his life. Lots of crack and luff and Seijoh Golden Four.

Warning: Over 6k words. My hand slipped.

Kindergarten - 5 years old

Yasuda, known for her large forehead and rich parents, points her finger at her newest enemy. 

“Hanamaki is ugly,” she declares. “No one can touch him or they are ugly too!”

You’re pretty sure she’s just envious of the fact that his mother gave him a Squishmallow to bring along, and it’s a rare one too.

The other kids draw away. Hanamaki’s looking a little confused, but he’s not crying. You’re pretty sure you’d cry. 

Yasuda grins. It’s an ugly thing, that grin, and it makes you want to punch her in the face. But then you’d get sent in time-out again.

Besides, your mother told you to “kill them with kindness” this morning, whatever that means.

Before you can rethink your strategy, you take a step forward. 

Yasuda’s eyes widen at your challenge.

But it’s too late. You’re throwing yourself at Hanamaki who’s luckily catching you. He smells like bubblegum.

“Now I’m ugly too!” You declare before turning around with fire in your veins, your determined eyes catching Yasuda’s. You can see the fear in them.

“Run!”

-

“Hey,” Hanamaki waits outside, Squishmallow in his hands.

“Hey,” you say, wiping the snot from your nose and into your skirt. You hate that you cry all the time, especially in front of the teacher who just scolded you. It’s not your fault Yasuda tripped when you ran after her.

“Thank you,” he says, voice earnest, “For that. You know.”

You sniff and shrug at the same time. “It’s nothing. I don’t like Yasuda. She’s nasty.”

He grins wide, revealing a missing tooth.

“Me too.” He offers the Squishmallow to you. “Friends?”

“You can’t buy me,” you tell him, the sentence grown-up and unfamiliar in your mouth. You heard it last week on Mom’s TV show. But you take the Squishmallow anyway. “Thanks.”

“Takahiro,” a breathless voice calls out. You both turn to his mother rushing down the street. She stops, catches her breath, and smiles down at you.

“Aww, did you give her your Squishmallow? Is she your friend?”

The two of you share a look. Kindergarten is hell already, you can’t have rumors like that going around.

“Nah!” You declare loudly, “Boys are nasty. This is blackmail.”

And before she can say anything, you rush back inside, determined to hide until they’re both gone.

-

Elementary school - 6 years old

The boy is tall, with dark curls hiding his tired-looking eyes.

“Yes?” You ask, annoyed that he’s blocking the sunlight streaming in.

“This is Hanamaki’s place.”

“So?” You push the lollipop in your mouth to the other side. “What’s it to you?”

“Hanamaki said I could sit with him at lunch.”

You sniff, clearly unimpressed.

And as if he’d heard it, Hanamaki appears in the doorway.

“Matsukawa, you made it.” He grins, clapping a hand on the boy’s shoulder as he slides into his seat. “What’d you get for lunch?” Hanamaki asks you without skipping a beat, already lifting the lid of your Bento Box. “Sausages, nice. Do you want to switch? I’ve got egg rolls.”

“Is this your friend?” Matsukawa asks, obvious interest sneaking into his voice.

Hanamki snorts. “No? She’s my mortal enemy.”

“Yeah,” you agree immediately. “Watch out for the rice. It’s laced with cy-cy-”

“Cyanide,” Matsukawa offers, pulling a chair closer. “I want the rice then. I’m offering tomatoes.”

- 

Elementary school - 9 years old

“So, what did Yamagata want?” Hanamaki asks when you join them.

“He asked me out on a date.” You pick a tomato from Matsukawa’s Bento and chew on it as if you don’t care about it at all.

Hanamaki’s eyes are wide and round as he takes you in, his mouth open yet he seems to be speechless. Which is a first.

“You okay?” Matsukawa asks and for a second you’re not sure who he’s taking to, you or Hanamaki. 

“That means you’re grown up,” Hanamaki whispers finally. “Like, a grown-up grown-up. Did you say yes?”

“No?” You ask back. “Yamagata is disgusting. He eats his snot.”

“You do that too,” Matsukawa points out.

“I stopped last year,” you point out, chopsticks raised for emphasis. “But if you think Yamagata is such a catch, you can date him if you want, huh?”

“No thank you,” Matsukawa waves his hands, “I’m waiting for Yoshida-chan.”

Yoshida-chan, your very lovely though also very old teacher, lifts her head from where she’d been reading at the desk and smiles in your direction, clearly not clued in on the joke.

You all smile and wave back, snickering quietly when she turns back to her book.

“But if you want to date,” Matsukawa points out, an eggroll perfectly placed between his chopsticks as he points, “You two can just date each other.”

“Yuck!” You both spit out at the same time and Matsukawa rolls his eyes.

-

Elementary school - 12 years old

You’re not the only girl waiting outside the gym. 

Both Hanamaki and Matsukawa have started playing Volleyball and you’re seriously considering taking it up next year as well. They make you train with them anyway in their free time and it sucks to either have to wait for them or go home alone. Baseball is only half as fun without them there.

“You think he’s going to say yes?” One of the girls in a group near you asks her friends. She’s pretty and you think she might be from one of the top classes. 

“Of Course! Hanamaki would be dumb to say no.”

You turn a little at the mention of his name but it’s too late to do anything about it anyway when the doors open and the boys step out. 

“Hanamaki, hi!” Pretty Girl all but dances over to where he’s walking toward you, stopping him in his tracks.

Matsukawa immediately realizes what’s about to go down, you can tell by the face he makes, but he doesn’t walk off, just stands there, stiff as a board, looming over Pretty Girl’s face.

“Uh, could you… walk away?” She asks and you hide your snicker behind your hand. 

“Why?”

“Because… I was… uh… going to ask… Hanamaki… something?”

“So?”

“Hanamaki?” She’s determined, you have to admit that, turning back to him, “Could we talk in private for a second?”

To your surprise, both of the boys turn to where you’re waiting, looking at you as if waiting for a clue. It’s annoying as hell.

“What?” You ask, pointedly raising your hand to check your nails as if there’s anything to check but the dirt hiding under them. “I don’t have anywhere else to be.”

-

Matsukawa waits next to you, quiet like a stone. 

You want to know what she’s saying. Not that you don’t know what she’s saying, but you want to know what words she’s using. Hanamaki still can’t help but snicker every time someone mentions the L-Word like a little kid.

You don’t have to wait long.

Her face tells you everything you need to know as she slips into the group of her friends. 

Hanamaki looks like nothing happened at all and you turn to leave with him, satisfied in a way you can’t properly explain.

“Is she-” A voice raises as you move and the three of you turn back again. It’s not Pretty Girl but one of her equally pretty friends. “Is she your girlfriend?” She nods in your direction.

You pull a face before Hanamaki can react.

“Ew. I’m his cousin.”

-

Matsukawa lives one street down from Hanamaki and you live one street further down, right at the river.

Today, he doesn’t stop at his place like he usually does, kicking a pebble down the street as if to tell you to keep walking.

“What did she say?” You ask eventually when the silence gets too loud.

“She told me I’m pretty.”

You snort. 

“What?” He asks, laughter audible in his voice. “I’m pretty.”

“In your dreams,” you tell him and he’s full-on laughing now, both of you howling out a “He’s ugly!” as if Yasuda’s torment happened days ago instead of years.

Eventually, he kicks the pebble over to you to keep going and you follow suit, still snickering.

“I’d never have said yes,” he tells you, halfway caught between a snicker and something else, “Her lips looked like she put glitter glue on.”

“That’s lipgloss,” you explain, “It probably tastes like fruit.”

“I like fruit,” he says earnestly. “Do you have lipgloss like that?”

“No,” you lie and you don’t know why but your heart beats fast like a humminbird.

“Shame,” he sighs and you’re not sure if he means it. “Tell me when that changes.”

-

Junior High - 13 years old

“Your name’s going to be Makki,” Oikawa declares with the air of someone who rarely gets told off. “And your name’s going to be Mattsun.” 

You push your lollipop to the side and narrow your eyes at him.

“Why?”

“Because it sounds cooler.”

“Shittykawa,” you offer, “Sounds way cooler.”

Iwaizumi next to him snickers and Oikawa turns to him with a pout. 

“Iwa-chan!” He whines. 

“Iwa-chan!” You repeat after him, expertly copying his whiny tone. Everyone laughs.

“You’re friends?” Oikawa asks just minutes later, still pondering on what nickname to give you. He points at you, then Mattsun, then Makki.

You roll your eyes.

“Mortal enemies,” you declare. “We’re bound until we kill each other. This is just our latest reanimation.”

“Oh, cool, like in that anime?” Oikawa asks immediately, eyes glowing.

You snort. Hanamaki leans over you, pushing your head into his sweaty armpit. You fight to get him off. Mattsun changes the topic.

-

“Hey,” Iwaizumi asks right as you part after class, “Do you want to become a manager?” 

You blink, surprised that he asked you. He’s pretty shy around girls even if you don’t act like one most of the time. 

“Didn’t think about that,” you tell him honestly, “I was going to try out for the girl's team first.”

“Oh, sure.” He starts to stutter, turning away. “Good luck.”

Makki looks after him, mouthing an exaggerated “Good luck” your way. 

You roll your eyes.

-

“Do you think I should become a manager?” You ask as soon as Mattsun is out of sight.

Makki kicks a pebble over to you and you kick it back.

“I dunno, we didn’t have a manager in Elementary School,” he remembers. “Isn’t that job kinda boring?”

“Sure, but we could be in the same team, kinda.”

He nods slowly. Then, he grins. “You would have to wipe away my sweat.”

“Ugh, no!” You whine. “Gross!”

“Fetch me my water bottle, manager-chan!” He orders in the most conceited voice he can muster. “Hush hush, we have a game to win.”

“You’re impossible,” you tell him, pushing him off when he leans into you with all his weight. “You can get your own water bottles, loser.”

It’s only when his door comes into sight that he sobers up again, turning back to you.

“What do you think of Oikawa and Iwaizumi?” Makki asks, voice suddenly serious. It’s the first time he’s ever asked you something like that. You doubt he would have cared if you didn’t like Mattsun back then. Or would he?

“They’re okay,” you declare. “Oikawa is a little conceited if you ask me, but I guess Iwaizumi keeps him in check. Iwaizumi could be cool if we get him a little out of his shell, maybe? He’s so serious.”

Makki nods slowly. 

“And lookwise?”

You furrow your brows. “Don’t ask me something like that, you know I don’t have any taste. We’ll see if the girls like them when it’s time, right? They liked you too and you look horrendous.”

“He’s ugly,” he crows softly and you roll your eyes, try to trip him and fail spectacularly.

-

Junior High - 14 years old

“I don’t want to be the referee again,” you declare pointedly when you join the boys at the riverbank, golden sunlight streaming over the area that has probably seen more Volleyball training sessions than your school gym. But who’s counting?

“Fine,” Oikawa huffs, yet again the one who decides everything. You roll your eyes behind his back. “You can be libero.”

“Oh yes, I’m saving your asses. Again.” You drawl out, smacking Makki’s butt as you pass by. He wiggles it again for good measure and Iwaizumi’s face turns red.

-

Half an hour later a group of boys joins you at the riverbank. You don’t know their faces, but Oikawa greets them eagerly. Not like friends, but friendly acquaintances.

“Who’s girlfriend is that?” One of them asks, pointing at you. 

You scowl, but Makki’s faster than you.

“This, my esteemed gentleman, is my bodyguard,” he declares loudly. “It’s her job to keep me from getting killed, which is rather unfortunate.”

“Most of his death threats come from her,” Mattsun adds dryly. “Watch out, she bites.”

-

“Hey,” Makki’s leaning against the doorway of your bedroom, staring out your window at the riverbank below. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” you groan into your pillow, wishing he’d leave. It’s one thing getting your period in a friendly mixed match. It’s another thing if you bleed through your pants so spectacularly one of the boys on the other team has to puke at the sight.

“You can leave,” you tell him when he’s still not moving minutes later.

But when you hear his footsteps, they come closer. Before you can look up and glare at him, he drops, his body almost crushing yours.

You yelp, but he’s too heavy, too much arms and legs and everything else and trying to fight him off turns into a tickle-fight instead. He begs for mercy minutes later, claiming he’ll pee on your bed if you don’t set him free.

“You suck,” you tell him as you stretch out next to him, looking up at the ceiling of your bedroom, all the glow-in-the-dark stars that you claim you will take down soon.

“You suck more,” he answers softly, falling silent for a while. It’s comfortable, being like this, just Makki and you, and no one else to judge it.

“You wanna go back out and kick their asses?” Makki asks eventually and you nod, slipping off your bed before he can push you off.

-

Junior High - 15 years old

“Interesting,” Mattsun watches Oikawa’s fanclub with the most bored look on his face, “Collective loss of good judgment. That’s rare.”

“Ah, there are still some good ones left,” you tell him, “Ishikawa from my Volleyball Club has a crush on you, by the way.”

“Oh?” Mattsun asks, turning. “Which one?”

“First year, pinch server, the one with the pixie cut.”

He ponders that for a moment before he shakes his head. “I don’t like short hair on girls.”

You roll your eyes. “You’re superficial.”

“What do you like?” Mattsun asks, a weird kind of grin on his face. And you know all his grins by now, or so you thought. “In boys, I mean?”

You furrow your brows. “How would I know? There’s no boy I like.”

Mattsun scoffs disbelievingly.

“What?” You ask, hackles rising.

A warm arm slings itself around your hips and a head lands heavy on your shoulder. 

“What are you talking about?” Makki asks, smacking his bubblegum into your ear.

“What kind of boys she’s into,” Mattsun points out. 

“Oh, I wanna hear that,” Oikawa fights himself free from his groupies and shuffles over, pulling Iwaizumi with him. “Because I have a feeling they have to be tall, good looking and into Volleyball.”

You roll your eyes, unsure if the heartbeat you feel in your chest is your own or Makki’s from how closely he’s pressed against you. It’s annoying, and you hate annoying things.

“Actually,” you tell them as pointedly as you can, “I like them small. Tiny, even. Really ugly too, because that adds character. It’s best if they’re practically disfigured.”

“But they have to be into Volleyball?” Iwaizumi asks, a small smile dancing over his lips. 

You shrug, almost managing to push Makki’s head off your shoulders. 

“Hobbies are Hobbies. He could be into knitting for all I care.”

“Ah well, that’s good to know,” Makki sings, “Because I saw a guy exactly like that. I could set you guys up.”

“You would do that?” You mock gasp, pressing your hands against your chest. “For your mortal enemy?”

“Anything for you,” he declares, pressing a fake tear from his eyes while the rest of the group turns away, no longer interested.

-

“By the way,” Makki tells you as he follows you down the road, Mattsun’s house growing smaller and smaller behind you, “Itoh-chan asked me out today.”

“Oh?” You look over. “When did that happen?”

“Ah, while you and Mattsun were discussing what kind of boys you like,” he grins cheekily.

“You mean while I was telling him that Ishikawa has a crush on him?”

“She does? What a shame, she’d really be his type if she had longer hair.”

“What do you guys have with hair?” You ask, a little exasperated. You don’t really expect him to pull on yours, but you’re not surprised when he does it either.

Makki stops in front of his house but he’s not going inside and you’re not leaving either.

“Don’t you wanna know what I told her?” He asks and his voice dares you to say yes.

“Not really. I’m gonna find out eventually.”

“I said no,” he shrugs, “Because she was talking about kissing me and I didn’t want to have my first kiss with someone who chews bubblegum like a horse.”

You roll your eyes.

“You’re superficial.”

“Maybe.”

Silence.

“Do you wanna practice?” You ask.

He looks at you, no sign of a joke in his eyes when he speaks.

“With or without lipgloss?” You realize that he knew what you meant when you asked, just like he’s always known what you thought before you said it out loud.

“What do you think?” You ask, moving one leg first and then the other. He falls into step next to you.

“What flavors are you offering?”

“Uh, I have one that’s supposed to be cherry flavored, but it tastes more like bubblegum.”

“I like bubblegum.”

“I know.”

His lips are dry and a little chapped, his hands clammy as they hold yours.

Kissing isn’t all that it’s made out to be, you decide unanimously a few minutes later and head down to the riverbank with a Volleyball instead.

-

High school - 16 years old

“Hey, we’re staying behind after training,” Makki tells you in between Classes, “Oikawa has this idea he wants to try out. Are you coming over to watch?”

“Sure,” you tell him, “Can’t have you walk home alone. You’d end up in Tokyo or something worse in the end.”

“What would I do without you?” He asks, exaggerating his theatrics as he dips back out of the classroom.

“Boyfriend?” The girl next to you asks curiously.

“Mortal enemy,” you declare and she furrows her brows and falls silent.

-

“Hey, we have training today,” you pull a lollipop from your jacket and pop it into your mouth, pulling a second one out when Mattsun stretches out his hand, asking wordlessly for one.

“Are you waiting for me?”

“What time are you going to be out?” Makki asks only half-listening as he copies Mattsun’s notes from the lesson. History is his weakest subject.

You calculate and name it and he nods.

“Yeah, sure, we can stay in the library until then and do our homework, right?” He turns to Mattsun who rolls his eyes.

“You don’t have to wait around if you don’t want to,” you tell him and Mattsun’s eyes roll even harder. 

You can’t help but snicker at it, knocking one last time against Makki’s desk when the bell rings, calling you back to your own Class.

“Alright, see you later guys.”

“Girlfriend?” One of the guys to their left asks, leaning over. “She’s pretty.”

“Mortal enemy,” Makki declares proudly, finally looking up from his notes. “I’d be careful. She bites.”

-

“No, no, this goes here,” you pull his hand from the paper before he can put the wrong number in yet again. “We’re not talking about the Edo period yet!”

“How do I know?” Makki grumbles, kicking his feet in the air behind him. “This shit sucks.”

“You wanna do something else?” You ask, not in the least bit minding a break. “Mattsun’s not coming over for another hour.”

“If ever,” Makki mumbles lowly and you look to the side just in time to watch insecurity flash over his face.

“You think he’s going to ditch you for a girlfriend?”

“Isn’t that how it always goes?” He asks, writing the wrong date in the space in front of him. You don’t care to correct him.

“We wouldn’t be like that,” you point out, not quite sure in what way you mean it.

“No,” he agrees easily. “We wouldn’t.”

“Mattsun’s not like that,” you assure him, putting your hand over his. “Shittykawa maybe, but not Mattsun.”

He stills for a second, eyes flickering over to yours. You can tell that he’s thinking about something, but you’re not yet sure what it is.

“Wanna try again?” He asks, voice low and quiet, his eyes flickering to your lips.

Not much history is studied that afternoon.

-

High school - 17 years old

It’s one of those rare days when you’re not coming home with Makki and Mattsun, dragging your tired body from the train station down the road.

You’ve cried more than enough already, yet your tears water again when Makki’s house comes into sight.

If only you hadn’t dropped that ball at that moment, had been a little faster that one time…

You know your mom’s waiting at home, food not quite ready yet, waiting to hear about the game.

But you can’t… you can’t…

The key is where it always is, hidden beneath the little wooden Tanuki at the front door.

The way up the stairs is so familiar you could do it in your sleep.

You slip into his bed and pull the covers over your head, smelling bubblegum and deodorant and a faint hint of sweat. It smells like Makki and you close your eyes, wishing you could shut out the tears just as easily as the light.

“Hey…” a warm hand on your shoulder wakes you. “You okay?”

You shake your head and he nods, slipping into bed with you. 

“Do you want to continue Volleyball after High School?” Makki asks, arms slung around you. He’s like a monkey like that and you often wonder how he sleeps during training weeks. Does he sling himself around Mattsun or a pillow, does he dream of you or not?

“Not really, you?”

“Mhm, no. Winning is fun, but all that training would suck ass…”

You agree quietly, just a little noise in the back of your throat.

“So if you’re not going to continue playing anyway, it’s not that big of a deal, right?” He asks, “Just another blip in your life.”

“It’s not just another blip.”

“Remember how you bled so much you made a random guy puke?”

“Makki!” You howl, even louder when he bites into your shoulder.

But the pain soon subsides, turns into laughter that you can’t hold back.

“His face,” you remember, “He looked like he was going to pass out.”

“He’s ugly,” Makki howls and you press his hand, understanding finally why he keeps bringing up that joke.

Sometimes it’s best to laugh at your demons. They might not get smaller that way, but at least you have something to laugh at.

-

High school - 18 years

“Hanamaki-kun, I wanted to ask for your second button, oh…” The bright-eyed first-year stops in her tracks. The button is already missing.

She blushes a scarlet red, stuttering as she excuses herself.

“I don’t believe you,” Mattsun huffs, “You didn’t just wake up today, missing that button.”

“But I did,” Makki claims, “I swear, I’d never lie to you.”

“You always lie to me.”

“Name one time I lied to you.”

“When you told me your natural hair color was purple but it faded out over the summer.”

“Well, that’s on you, Mattsun. I can’t help you if you believe that of all things.”

“What did he believe this time?” You ask, walking over.

“Purple hair,” Makki points at his head. You scoff at Mattsun.

“I was six years old, okay?” He defends himself. “By the way, did you notice that Makki’s button is missing?” He points and you look. 

“Nice,” you high-five Makki, “Who did you give it to.”

“I didn’t. Lost it at night. Some nightmare gremlin must have cut it off.”

“For real? Probably your mother who wants to curse you to stay home forever.”

“No, Mummy wouldn’t do such a thing.” He leans into you, trying to make you sway under his weight. It hasn’t worked in years but he keeps trying.

“How many buttons did you get?” Mattsun asks. “I saw Yamagata confessing to you in the hallway earlier.”

You pull a face.

“I don’t care if he’s no longer eating his snot, I’m not accepting a confession from him.”

“Why’s that?” Mattsun’s voice is saccharine sweet now and you narrow your eyes at him. You know what he wants to hear, but you’ve always been one to deny the things others want from you. Makki’s weight on you isn’t helping.

“If I say I don’t like someone, I’m not changing my mind on that.” You declare. Makki’s snickering above you, probably because he’s close to finally making you sway. You bite his bicep but he’s not moving away. 

Mattsun rolls his eyes so hard it looks like he’s passing out.

-

College - 20 years

Your legs are flung over Makki’s and you’re so close to beating him when the door opens.

“Suck on that!” You yell as you swerve over the finish line, hitting his shoulder with your fist.

“Gladly,” he jokes, already choosing the next road as you look up.

“Oh, hi!” You wave at the guy standing in the doorway. “Are you looking for Mattsun? He’s in his room.”

“He said there’s a party going on tonight?” The guy asks. You try to place him, but your brain is failing you. He doesn’t look like he went to Seijoh, but Makki’s always been better at remembering faces. 

“Yeah, for sure.” Makki declares. “Just a little later. You’re early. You can get yourself something to drink from the kitchen.”

“Cool.” He nods, walking over. He’s back in minutes, leaning over the backrest to watch, sipping whatever concoction he’s poured himself. “You two a thing?”

You don’t look up, too focused on beating Makki. You hate the rainbow road.

“Roommates,” Makki explains, his leg twitching under yours.

“Mortal enemies,” you declare, sticking out your tongue as you drift and push Makki off the road.

“Cool.” Couch-Guy leans in even further. “I’m Terushima by the way.”

-

Terushima finds you in the kitchen hours later. His eyes are glassy as he smiles at you and you wonder how many drinks he’s had.

You wouldn’t call yourself sober either, but you’d been so obsessed with beating Makki that you’re way behind on the others, 

“What do you think?” Terushima flutters his eyelashes at you. “You and me? I could show you a good time.”

You swallow down a snort. He looks like he’s barely able to stand.

“Tell you what.” You point at your room down the hall. “Go lie down, I’m gonna be with you in a minute.”

“Awesome.”

You watch him stumble down the hall, how the door closes after him with a click. Seconds later Makki is leaning into you. He smells like bubblegum and the most disgusting brand of Tequila you’ve ever tasted.

“What are you doing?” He asks, snagging one side of the sandwich you’d been preparing. 

“I sent the baby to bed.”

He snorts and you can feel his chin graze our shoulder as he peers over into the living room.

You steal a quick glance yourself. Some girl is trying her best in flirting with Mattsun who’s deep in an explanation about something that probably no one’s interested in.

The others are either drinking, singing, or snoring on the Couch and the floor.

Makki’s lips ghost over your bare shoulder.

“You’re sleeping in my room?” He asks, voice quiet as if anyone but you could hear him.

“Where else? My bed is already occupied.”

He pinches your hip, but he doesn’t move away, leaning heavy and warm against your back. You can feel his heartbeat like that, sluggish and slow and so well-known your heart beats in sync.

-

Work - 22 years

You’re sitting on Makki’s lap, or rather, in between his legs, playing on your phone as you wait for your stop.

There’s an older woman across from you who’s giving you the stink eye, but you don’t really care. It’s late, you’re both tired, and she can suck it.

“What do you want for dinner?” Makki asks, his head resting on top of yours.

“Rice.”

“We had rice yesterday.”

“Ramen?”

“Ugh.”

“You don’t have to cook if you don’t want to.”

He falls quiet.

You let him, knowing damn well that he’s going to say it when he’s ready for it.

He pulls you up at your stop, links his hand with yours as you walk out.

It’s so not him, you’re almost worried. At least until he stops right at the corner, pulling a coin out of his pocket.

There’s a gumball machine there, one that sells cheap jewelry next to the cheap sweats.

He puts the coin in, twists and pulls a little ball out, presenting it to you.

“You shouldn’t have,” you tease, pulling the ball apart. It’s a ring, the metal bendable to fit every size. The design is even worse, a gaudy heart, but you don’t care, pull his hand up and slip it on his finger.

“Will you marry me?” You whisper as dramatically as you can and something flickers over his face, gone and away before you can catch it. He laughs, softly, and leans forward to kiss your temple.

“Oh, aren’t you a sweet couple?”

You turn, surprised to see an older lady standing behind you, squinting up at you in the fading daylight.

“Actually,” Makki starts. You can’t help but finish.

“We’re siblings.” You tell her. “Separated at birth. We just found out.”

Her eyes widen.

“What lovely news!” She chokes out, clearly confused.

You nod and bow and move away, pulling Makki with you as you rush down the stairs, suddenly no longer tired.

-

“They cut my hours,” he tells you later. 

You’re stretched out on his bed, trying to convince yourself to get up again and do his workout routine with him. But the bed is comfy and you’re tired.

“How much?” You ask.

“Might not be able to pay rent this month.”

“I’ll cover it,” you offer. His mouth pulls into a thin line.

“Seriously,” you pull yourself up until you’re sitting. “I’ll cover it. You pay for my food all the time anyway. I could move in here with you and we open up my room for someone else. It’s no big deal.”

He still looks… unsure. Insecure. Like he’s not sure what to say or what to feel.

“I’m your bodyguard,” you remind him, “Remember? How am I supposed to protect you when you sleep in a different room anyway?”

-

Mattsun looks like he wants to say something. Scratch that. He looks like he wants to say a lot.

“Another roommate?” He asks. 

“Yeah.” You nod. “You know, it makes sense, I should have thought about it sooner. As his bodyguard-”

“Mortal enemy.”

“And mortal enemy, thank you, Makki,” you pat his hand like one would do with a child. “It’s my job to protect him. I have neglected that for far too long. I’m moving into his room. Going to keep an eye on him at all times.”

Mattsun sighs.

“You can’t just say it? That you’re a couple?”

Makki gasps. You fake gag.

“We’re like siblings, Mattsun!” Makki claims. “Please keep your incestuous tendencies to yourself.”

“Ship someone else, will you?” You ask and he groans, pinches his nose, and shakes his head.

“Whatever. I’m not… You’re going to be the death of me. You can go and find us a third roommate for all I care… By the way, Makki, are we still on for Friday?”

-

Work - 24 years

“I think Ishikawa still has a crush on him,” you whisper into Makki’s ear. You have no interest whatsoever in the movie playing and neither does he, if the hand rubbing messages into your thigh is any indication.

“She still has that pixie cut,” he reminds you.

“Yeah, but it suits her now.” You point out and he shakes his head from side to side as if he’s thinking about it.

“Could you guys stop talking?” Mattsun growls from where he’s sitting. Ishikawa is sitting close enough that her hair must be tickling his nose. If only he’d put his arm around her.

“Excuse me, but we’re having a serious discussion,” Makki claims, picking a piece of popcorn and throwing it in the air. “Catch.” 

It misses your mouth by a mile, landing somewhere behind you on the floor. 

“Shit, again.” He picks another piece.

By the time the bowl is empty, Ishikawa and Mattsun are gone. You blink. The floor is covered in popcorn pieces and the movie has been over for quite some time if the flickering ad is telling you anything.

Makki picks up his phone from the table and squints at it.

“Mattsun took Ishikawa out for drinks.”

“Score.” You push him off the Couch. “Now come on, let’s get the vacuum.”

“Why do I have to?” He moans but gets up from the floor. “By the way, your hair looks pretty today.”

“What?” You look up from your own phone, your mind still halfway stuck in that email you just received.

“I said your hair looks shitty. What are you reading?”

“Apparently I got a promotion. Look.” You hand him your phone, pouring over the text together. 

“Wow, shit, you’re going to earn so much more money,” he says, pulling you closer with his free hand. “How do you wanna celebrate?”

“I dunno, you decide.” You blink up at him. “I could treat you to that fancy hot pot place you mentioned last time.”

“Nah,” he shakes his head. “That’s stupid. What do you wanna do?”

“Well, it’s my money and I’m your bodyguard and I need to make sure you’re well-fed. So I guess Hot Pot it is.”

“You sure about that?” He follows you down the hallway to the closet where you keep the vacuum cleaner.

“Absolutely. What else would I do with my money? Buy you a diamond ring? Wait, do you want a diamond ring?”

“Please,” he huffs, “I only take Platin, you should know my style.”

-

Work - 26 years

“Oooh, look.” Makki pulls at Mattsun’s sleeve, dragging him to the left. “What do you think?”

Mattsun blinks. In front of him, behind thick glass, is a tray full of rings. Engagement rings.

“What do I think about what?”

“The rings, doofus. You’ve been dating Ishikawa for what, two years now?”

“1 year and eight months, okay. I’m nowhere near sure I’m going to marry her.”

“Still,” Makki pulls him through the door. “It’s good to do research. Thorough research.”

Mattsun rolls his eyes, digging his elbow into his friend's shoulder and navigating him to the left. 

“Silver is less expensive.”

“Oi, since when are you a cheapskate?”

“Since gold turned expensive.”

They spend twenty minutes pouring over the options.

Mattsun has to admit, there are some pieces there that he wants to take a picture of, but he doesn’t, because it would be weird.

He watches his friend from the side, the way he takes in each ring.

It’s hard to tell what he’s thinking, if this is a joke or serious.

-

“So, when are you going to ask her?” He asks when they step outside again.

“Who?”

“You know who.”

“What am I asking?”

“If they marry you.”

“Why would I ask that?”

Mattsun groans in exasperation.

“Do you seriously find this funny? After all those years? Do you never just want to tell her that you love her or that she’s pretty or tell some weird dude that hits on her that she’s yours?”

“Oh, is that what you say to Ishikawa?” Makki asks, hands pushed into the pockets of his jacket.

“Yeah,” Mattsun says, “That’s what I tell her. Every day, if possible. Because it’s something she needs to hear. Because it’s true.”

Makki falters. He rubs the tip of his shoe over the asphalt under him, searching for a pebble to kick around.

“I don’t think she’d want to hear it. She’s not like… She’s not like Ishikawa, in that way. If she was, she’d tell me. She would have told me, you know.”

Mattsun sighs.

“Sorry. It’s your thing how you do it. If you’re both happy with it, continue being weird. It’s just hard to understand sometimes. But love you guys, you know that, right?”

“Yeah, you sap, I do.” Makki grins back at him. 

His eyes fall to the watch above them and they widen.

“Shit, I’m late for work.”

-

“Hey,” Makki’s back way too early.

“Hey,” he mumbles, slipping into the chair next to you. “When did you get home?”

“An hour ago. Got all the Argentinian stuff for the match next month. Are you okay?”

“Yeah.” He closes his eyes and leans back in his chair, away from you, yet his hands reach out. You take his left and press it.

“You sure?” You ask.

He nods.

Silence falls over you. It’s hard to continue typing with only your left hand, but you’re not willing to let go of his.

Eventually, he opens his eyes again.

“I got fired today.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Yeah.”

Another beat of Silence.

“You wanna take a holiday?” You ask, closing your notebook for a moment to look at him. “We could drive to the beach for a weekend.”

“I wanted to buy you a ring.”

“Mhm,” you reach out and rub your thumb over his cheek. “Already bought me one. How many rings do you think I need?”

“How many fingers do you have?”

You wait for him to continue, but he falls silent again.

“Did you want to keep working there?” You ask. He shakes his head. “So if you didn’t want to keep working there, it’s not that big of a deal, right?” You ask, hoping he remembers a similar conversation when the roles were reversed. “Just another blip in your life.”

“It’s not just another blip.” He says and you can see some light returning to his eyes.

“Mhm,�� you say, “Remember when Yasuda called you ugly in kindergarten?”

“Yeah,” he chuckles.

“I always thought you were very pretty.” He stills, his eyes flickering over your face.

“Really?”

“Really. Also, I love you.”

He grins. “I knew it. Called it when you tried to pee on me in elementary school.”

“I’m your bodyguard,” you remind him, “Your mortal enemy. Now, do you wanna go to the beach for the weekend or do you wanna stay in bed all day and play Mario Kart?”

Makki takes his sweet time to decide.

“Can we do both?” He asks eventually. “Play Mario Kart at the Beach?”

“So demanding,” you joke, leaning forward to kiss him.

-

There’s a ring packed in your things when you leave the city for the weekend. 

It’s not Platin and not silver either, bought at the gumball machine with a few coins. 

It will do for now.

“I could be your Navigator,” Makki offers as he looks up routes on his phone. “How much are you paying per hour?”

“Ah, not enough to be able to afford you,” you joke easily. “But I am looking for a housewife.”

“No way,” he gasps, eyes widening. “That’s exactly the job I was looking for. I make a fantastic sandwich.”

“Hired,” you offer him your hand. He takes it.

Tagging: @darthferbert @alienaiver @marti-mp4 @lemurzsquad @ @sachirobabe

my Kofi if you want to tip me

[cottonlemonade]

500 yen

warnings: Seijoh 4

“Over there by the benches, 12 o’clock.”

“Oh, pretty.”, Makki said.

Issei emptied his water bottle in deep gulps. “I’m going in.” He slapped his cheeks with both hands and rolled his shoulders, then looked at his friends expectantly. “Say something encouraging.”

Makki inspected his hands. “Not a chance.”

“Nope, but I can slap you, too, if that helps.”, Iwaizumi offered.

“Thanks, I think I’ll pass.” Issei’s shoulders dropped.

“Of course it’ll be fine, Mattsun. You got this.”, Oikawa assured him.

Once his friend left he added, “500 yen, he gets rejected.”

“Yup.”

“I don’t know.”, Makki interjected, trying to observe the situation covertly while Iwaizumi and Oikawa just blatantly stared, arms crossed, “She might be into it. I mean, tall protective boyfriend is something girls like, right?”

The other two looked at him.

“Yeah I know, I don’t believe it either.”

“I can tell from here that she’s out of his league.”, the captain noted, tilting his head and letting his eyes wander over your curvy figure.

Then Makki grabbed his shoulder and Oikawa’s jaw dropped.

“No way she is giving him her real number.”

“I think she might be. Look at that blush.”

Iwaizumi grinned, never having doubted his friend.